#its got so many hands and six fingers on each of em | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

phykios · 3 years

Text

this one is dedicated to mi amor mari @perseannabeth, who is a beautiful bird and a wonderful friend and i am v v vvvvv grateful to have crossed the airwaves with her :”)

Today Was A Fairytale [read on ao3] T, modern royalty, fun at disneyland!

She stares at him.

He stares back. “What?”

“Really?”

“What?”

“You really think this is going to be enough?” Annabeth points at her head, the blue Yankees cap squishing her curls.

“Of course! It’s the Clark Kent effect.” As if to underline his point, Percy slips on his fake hipster glasses, except that stupid grin of his is too bright not to draw attention.

“That’s not a real thing.”

“Sure it is. Studies show that glasses are actually good enough to alter your appearance if someone doesn’t know you well.”

“Then why didn’t you bring a pair of glasses for me?”

“Because your hair is definitely the prettiest thing about you,” he says, automatically tugging an unruly curl which peeks out from under the brim, a gesture so practiced she almost doesn’t register it--until he blinks, dropping his hand, blushing lightly. “I mean--the most noticeable thing. You know. A hat should be fine.”

He looks away. Heat rises to her face, too. Because it’s so hot out, obviously.

“Anyway,” he mumbles, “um. No--no one’s going to give you a second look if your hair is hidden.”

Chewing her lip, Annabeth can’t help but worry. Percy’s face is extremely well-known, possibly more than hers, and they’ve both spent the better part of three weeks with their faces plastered all over the media on their diplomatic trip. This is probably a really, really bad idea. Then, a thought occurs to her. “How about,” she says, perking up, “you give me your glasses, and I’ll give you mine.” From her backpack, she fishes out a pair of sunglasses, big and nondescript. He’ll practically be wearing a superhero mask with these.

Percy smiles again, and Annabeth thinks she might fly. “Perfect.”

Which is how Her Royal Highness Anna Elisabeth Ingrid Irene of Sweden and His Serene Highness Perseus Alexandros Ioannis of Thera play hooky from their day of boring meetings, insufferable dignitaries, and stuffy security guards, to go see the eighth wonder of the world: Disneyland Resort in California.

And how Annabeth eats her words as they make it past the security gate unchecked. “Eh?” He beams, nudging her with his elbow. “Eh?”

Rolling her eyes, she shoves him back. “Shut up.”

***

[description: a tiktok video which depicts a line at Disneyland. the op, a black girl with braids, covers her mouth and looking into the camera, turning the camera to focus on the two people behind her. one is a tall boy with black hair and sunglasses, and the other is a blonde girl with a yankees hat and glasses. both are white. video text reads: “p sure the people behind me are prince percy and princess annabeth??? um?????”. background audio is a dubstep remix of the fight theme from undertale. end ID]

***

Maybe it’s a little weird, on account of her being actual royalty and all, but Annabeth has always been interested in princesses, both as a matter of historical record (history is awesome) and in the general sense. Like millions of other people, she, too, was raised on Disney movies and tales of princesses and true love, and she was just as captivated as the rest of them. She and Percy used to watch the Disney catalogue whenever their families held state visits for each other, staying up into the small hours of the morning, sharing some popcorn and singing along.

Luckily for Annabeth, her favorite princess is holding a meet and greet at the Royal Hall.

“Excuse me,” Percy says, approaching Princess Ariel. Well, her cast member, anyway. “Could I get a photo for my friend?”

“Of course!” she trills, her blue eyes sparkling. “It would be my pleasure.” Holding her hand out, perfectly poised and graceful in a way that would impress even Annabeth’s stodgy etiquette instructor, she smiles, warm and welcoming, pivoting to bring Annabeth in for one of those weird, semi-awkward half-hugs. “What’s your name?”

“Anna,” says Annabeth. Hey, it’s not untrue. She’s a little leery of using any of her names, but Anna is common enough. Annabeth? Not so much. Even with her glasses and hat disguise, a little paranoia is justified, she thinks.

“It’s so wonderful to meet you, Anna,” she says, cheerful, with all the grace and charm of someone who doesn’t spend hours saying the same thing over and over again to excitable, temperamental children. What a trooper, she thinks.

“Don’t you recognize a fellow princess when you see one, your highness?” Percy says, grinning that stupid, smarmy grin of his.

Annabeth glares. Oh, he thinks he’s so damn clever.

“Oh, of course,” says Ariel, smoothly. “How could I have thought otherwise? Your highness.” And she curtsies to Annabeth, a short dip, her hand placed delicately against her chest. “Perhaps I can introduce you to my friend Anna, princess of Arendelle?”

Still smirking, Percy takes some more pictures, trapping Annabeth into smiling for the camera. She can’t be glaring daggers in her pictures, nor can there be video evidence of her kicking him--no matter how much she wants to.

And she definitely doesn’t miss the way Ariel not-so-subtly checks Percy out, eyeing him up and down.

“You fucking asshole,” she hisses as they leave the photo area, swatting him lightly, and he giggles.

“Sorry, sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

“Ugh, I hate you so much.”

It’s hard to stay mad at him, though she definitely tries as they enter back out into the park proper, giving him just the barest hint of a cold shoulder.

“Aw, come on,” Percy says. “I was just teasing.”

“You shouldn’t go around tempting fate like that,” Annabeth says. “Do you want to cause another international incident?”

Percy winces, no doubt remembering the Gateway Arch incident of 2008.

“If someone recognizes us, we don’t have Zoe or any of her team to protect us,” Annabeth goes on. “Not that I think anyone here would try to hurt us, but…” But it’s a little nerve-wracking, being on her own like this. She hasn’t been alone like this for a really long time.

Wincing, Percy rubs the back of his head. “I guess I forgot you’re a little higher profile than me. Sorry.”

She doesn’t like to think about it, but it’s true. Percy, by his nature as the younger son of a largely defunct royal house, doesn’t have quite the same number of… issues… that someone like Annabeth might have.

Deflating, she uncrosses her arms. “It’s okay.”

“I should have asked you first.”

“It’s really okay,” she says. “No harm no foul.”

“Do you want to get out of here?” he asks, entirely serious. “I can call someone up.”

She knows just how long they’ve planned this, how many favors he’s called in and policies he’s sidestepped. Backing out now would just be a waste of a day. She shakes her head. “It’s fine,” she says. “I’m just… feeling a little exposed, I guess. But, I don’t want to ruin all our plans. Let’s keep going.” She grabs his hand, squeezing a little.

“...Okay,” Percy says. “But say the word, and we’ll call it a day. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good.” Like he doesn’t have any other expression today, he smiles at her again.

It hits her, suddenly. He’s so much taller than she remembers. Once upon a time she used to be taller than him; now, he’s basically a whole head above her.

It’s annoying. But also… not.

Spying something over her shoulder, his eyes light up, and he practically gasps. “Cinderella!” he points with his free hand, like a five-year old. “Come on!” And he takes off to one of the park corners, dragging Annabeth along with him.

He has to wait in line behind a pair of twin girls, six or seven years old by the looks of it, in identical Cinderella dresses for a photo, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, and when it’s finally his turn, he nearly trips over himself to go up and ask for a photo.

Cinderella agrees, and now Annabeth is relegated to the job of cameraperson. Percy slides in next to the princess, his hand on her waist, but, ever the respectful gentleman, loosely held, so the cast member can slide out of his grasp without any difficulty at all.

Taking a few shots, it does look kind of strange to have Cinderella’s beautiful, shining face, and Percy’s enormous sunglasses blocking his. “Take off your glasses?” she says, lowering her phone for a second.

Dutifully, Percy slips them off, smiling again for the camera.

Cinderella’s smile doesn’t falter, a credit to her professionalism, but Annabeth can see her eyes widen, just a touch.

Annabeth snaps off a few more photos, “Got ‘em!” and Percy once again gushes over the princess, thanking her for her time. Grabbing Annabeth’s hand again, he practically skips off, leading them in the direction of a nearby candy shop.

***

me: IM SHAKING GUESS WHO I JUST TOOK A PICTURE WITH????

sis: prince percy?

me: HOW TF DID YOU KNOW

sis: its on twitter already

***

They’re walking along, Annabeth slurping up a Dole whip, when she suddenly stops in her tracks, outside of one of the many, many gift shops. “Wait up a second.”

“Hm?” Percy says, around the giant lollipop in his mouth.

“I want to get some Mickey ears.”

Very quickly they get lost in the sea of Disney merchandise, walking the labyrinth of Star Wars and Marvel and Pixar goods. There’s a surprising amount of black for the so-called happiest place on Earth, but things do brighten up when Annabeth finally turns a corner and finds the enormous selection of Mickey ears. It’s a wash of sparkles, flowers, bows, and occasionally characters, for children and adults alike. Annabeth eyes a pair designed like Baby Yoda, eyes wide and ears adorably huge, before she fingers a pair of white Mickey ears that have a bridal veil attached to them, contemplating its counterpart, the black ears for the groom, each ear emblazoned with a sparkling silver “Happily Ever After.”

She looks around. Where did Percy wander off to, anyway?

Well, wherever he is, hopefully he hasn’t gotten mobbed by a horde of excitable fangirls. Given that she can’t hear any screaming--well, any unusual, non-Disneyland-relevant screaming--that’s probably a good sign.

Running her fingers over the ear selections, she finally picks out a pair of silver sequined earrings with a shiny gold bow, a tiny, rhinestone Cinderella’s castle placed delicately in the middle.

Yeah. This one.

Percy finds her as she is paying for her ears, a pair of his own already on his head, red balloons inside of plastic circles. The sunglasses, she notes with a tinge of nervousness, are tucked in his shirt, and not on his face, protecting his identity. “Oh, check mine out--they light up!” he says, giddy, pressing the button on the side, not that she can tell in the brightly lit shop.

“That’s not why I was looking.”

Walking out of the store, ears firmly in her possession, she looks around again. Percy’s face is out there for the world to see, and no one is giving them a hard time.

And her hat is really sweaty.

Ah, fuck it.

She removes the Yankees cap, shaking out her sweaty curls, sliding the ears on in its place.

And the glasses, for good measure.

“Cinderella?” Percy asks.

“I thought you’d approve.”

Outside the shop, next to a corn dog cart, Percy pulls her aside, out of the way of a whole classroom’s worth of children, holding up a plastic plag. “So, confession.”

“Percy…” He didn’t. “We said no gifts!” They had agreed to it that morning!

“Well, see,” he says, fumbling around in the bag, pulling out a black t-shirt. “I saw this, and I thought--I thought you might like it.”

He unfolds it, and Annabeth frowns at the shirt design.

It’s… a drawing of a man in a purple mask against a solid black background, glaring at the viewer. Circling him, in distressed, white-grey military font, are the words “BARON ZEMO,” and the logo for the show he must star in, Marvel’s The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. She doesn’t really watch superhero shows, though, and she’s pretty sure Percy doesn’t, either. Maybe he’s started this one and he really likes it? “Thanks,” she says, confusion coloring her voice despite her best efforts.

But he doesn’t look too disappointed. “I was looking through their pride merch, and they didn’t have any stuff with the ace flag, which totally sucks, but then I thought that maybe you might like something a little more subtle? So, yeah.” He shakes it. “Ace pride!”

Oh. Oh, this boy.

She remembers, so vividly, visiting his father’s summer home on Kalymnos, a few years ago, the summer she turned nineteen, waking up to a banging in the kitchen, noisy pots and pans making a real racket. Granted, it had been one in the afternoon, and Annabeth probably should have been awake sooner, but she had stumbled out of the guest room into the kitchen, rubbing sleep out of her eyes, to the sight of Percy wrestling with the standmixer, making bright, neon purple frosting. The night before, sometime around three or four AM, that weird, liminal hour where the shadow of night just starts to recede, the sky a sweet, soft, dusky blue, she had come out as demisexual to her best friend, saying the words aloud for the first time ever. Loopy from lack of sleep, the moment had passed without much fanfare.

But Percy, dark-circled and still yawning, had woken up early to make her a chocolate cake. By the time she had woken up, he had baked the cake, chilled it, and made two out of the three frosting colors, a beautiful, moist, dark chocolate cake which ended up being frosted with a marbled mix of purple, black, and white, all folding into each other into a kind of colorless, grey sugar.

Here, now, in Disneyland, she throws herself at him, wrapping his arms around his neck. His arms automatically come up to circle her, hugging her tight.

She had been worried it had been some kind of defense mechanism. A young girl with an alarmingly high profile, Annabeth had been the subject of intense scrutiny with regards to any romantic entanglements, with critics, tabloid reporters, and fans alike attempting to invent gossip-worthy relationships with every boy she ever talked to--most usually Percy. They did grow up in the public eye together, attending all kinds of events and functions together over the last fifteen or so years. And they did tweet at each other. Like, a lot. They even had their own portmanteau hashtag. But no relationship ever materialized.

She thought maybe she was just being stubborn, unwilling to play the media game. But it hadn’t been stubbornness. It wasn’t about shyness or inexperience. It was real, and it was her.

And Percy hadn’t even blinked.

“I love it,” she murmurs. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he says, swaying her from side to side, just a little. “It was my pleasure.”

***

What’s happening: #percabeth (Entertainment • trending)

@kndrck__ STREAM CHROMATICA: um @TheraUS @SwedenRoyals i think i found your sick royals? #percabeth #disneyland

@wasabiviking: omg werent they supposed to be at some hospital opening today #percabeth

@ChampionSno brando he/him: LMAOOO NOT #PERCABETH PLAYING HOOKY LIKE IT’S ROMAN HOLIDAY

***

“Holy shit,” Percy moans, his mouth full of food. “Oh my God. Dear God in Heaven.”

Annabeth kicks his ankle under the table. “Don’t be rude.”

He swallows, eyes fluttering. “Oh my God, Annabeth. Holy shit. This is the best damn sandwich I’ve ever had in my entire life.”

“A monte cristo?”

“A deep-fried monte cristo! In sweet batter!” Taking another bite, he moans again, just this side of indecent. “Oh my God I love Americans. They are absolute culinary geniuses.”

“Better than Bistrot Chez Rémy?” They had both been to Disneyland Paris, separately, sadly, and Percy had recommended the restaurant to her with great enthusiasm for her upcoming trip. As usual, he was spot on with his food recs.

He nods, eyes closed in rapture. “By a mile.”

“You’ll have to learn to make your own when we get back home, then.”

He jolts, straightening up, cheeks full of food. Roughly, he swallows. “You’re right! I need to take notes.” And he takes out his phone, hurriedly typing down whatever scent and flavor notes he must be able to discern. “This is definitely challah…”

Plucking another piece of chicken with her fork out of her jambalaya, Annabeth lets her attention wander a little, content to watch the passengers on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride as they float on beside them, down in the artificially constructed bayou river.

Truth be told, she’s kind of tired. They’ve been walking around all day, and even with the brief reprieve of rides, her shoes really aren’t the kind that deal well with huge amounts of walking. She can already tell that she’s going to crash, and crash hard, whenever they get back to their hotel. You know, if their security detail doesn’t eviscerate them first.

When Percy had first presented his idea to her, she had agreed without hesitation. They had had a long, dense schedule of public appearances planned for their excursions to the states, and the days had begun to seriously wear them out. Together, they had worked out the kinks, coming up with contingencies, negotiating things to do, all over Discord so no one else would get wind of what they were doing. Prior to this trip, she hadn’t seen him in… probably almost a year. She knows his father had been keeping him close to home for whatever reason, and Annabeth had had a handful of official functions to deal with. Their paths just never managed to cross, up until now.

She hadn’t realized how much she had missed him.

It’s lonely, growing up in the public eye. It’s cliche, but it’s true. And while Annabeth is afforded a metric ton of various intersecting privileges, she thinks she’d probably give it up in a heartbeat. It kind of sucks being a living, breathing tourist attraction.

Growing up, she had her cousin Magnus, and a handful of other assorted children to play with, but she would never say that she had a best friend, or even a good friend, until she’d met Percy. Her mother and his father, famous for their mutual dislike, had put aside their differences to host some kind of charitable dinner for the disgustingly wealthy, and had trotted out their respective children in all their finery. Annabeth, being all of twelve years old, hadn’t really grasped the gravity of the event, and had gotten into an itty bitty little food fight with the then-unknown Prince Perseus, the result of an extramarital affair whom his father had so graciously decided to acknowledge and adopt.

After that night, they became fast friends, and she decided that, if she ever left the royal life, she’d make sure to take Percy with her. He’s one of the few things that makes her life bearable.

She thinks about it, sometimes. Renouncing her title. It wouldn’t exactly be hard. There was Magnus, just in line behind her. And it’s not like her family held any executive power anyway. They’re just fancy, historically interesting celebrities.

Would Percy give up his, she wonders?

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

He looks at her oddly over their dessert, two vanilla-bourbon creme brulees. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she says. “Just tired. Long day.”

“You want to call it a night?”

She frowns. “What’s left?”

“Well, we did Space Mountain, Rise of the Resistance, Haunted Mansion, Pirates of the Caribbean, a few others,” he counts off his fingers, “saw the princesses, got Mickey ears, ate at Blue Bayou… I guess all that’s left is walking around the pier, if you want.”

“Sounds like you two had a full day.”

As one, they almost leap out of their seats, Annabeth choking on her spit. “Jesus, Zoe,” Percy pants, his hand over his chest. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Oh?” says Zoe Nightshade, the head of their security detail, who had just apparently materialized out of thin air. “Funny. I could say the same about you, sir.”

Coughing, Annabeth eventually manages to get her air back. “Hey, Zoe,” she wheezes. “How was your day?”

“Eventful. Let me tell you about it in the car.”

Annabeth glances at Percy, who’s looking a little bit like a deer in headlights. Honestly, she’s surprised they even made it this far without one of their own tracking them down. Still, it looks like their game is up.

...Or is it?

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees a large tour group, approaching on the horizon.

“Sure,” Annabeth says, getting up. Luckily, they’ve already paid, so they can just head out; they don’t need to wait for another big group of people to cross their paths. “Will you let us go to the bathroom, first?”

Zoe squints. She’s always been able to see through Annabeth’s bullshit. But Annabeth has her best, Percy-patented baby seal eyes on, perfectly innocent. Surely, Zoe wouldn’t deny them a physical need such as relieving themselves?

After a moment, she nods. “Make it quick, if you please.”

“Of course,” Annabeth says, looking over at Percy, hoping he gets the message. He stands up, slow and stiff, eyes darting between the two of them. “We’ll be right back.”

They wander through tables and chairs towards the bathroom, her eyes always on the tour group as it just starts to pass by. Reaching out, Annabeth grabs Percy’s hand, and with a turn that would make her track coach proud, sprints out of the restaurant, using the throng of people as cover.

She thinks she hears Zoe yelling behind them, but maybe it’s just her own laughter. “Come on!” she shrieks, breathless, as Percy’s long legs keep pace with her. “To California Adventure!”

***

darthbingus said: the monarchy are fucking parasites but percabeth is pretty cute i guess :/

ladyofsandwiches reblogged and said: it’s obviously a publicity thing lmao, also prince Percy is gay???

eowynning reblogged and said: he’s dating rachel dare, right? he can’t be gay

ladyofsandwiches reblogged and said: That was a publicity thing too obvs, and Annabeth hasn’t ever been linked to a guy. The king of thera is hardline greek orthodox, there’s no way he’d let his son come out publicly. They’re both gay and pretending to date because homophobia

lardoftheprks reblogged and said: people can be bi and ace and pan and all sorts of things you know

batgirlcock reblogged and said: can you animals leave them alone fr

***

Zoe only spots them after the ferris wheel starts moving. Sprinting over to them, they’re still a full forty feet off the ground by the time she reaches the operator. “Sorry!” she yells down to her, hands cupping her mouth. “We’ll be down in ten minutes!”

“Ananbeth!” he chokes, giggles still escaping him.

“What?” she laughs.

“We’re in enough trouble as it is!”

“Exactly,” she says, settling back on the ride. “You’ll probably be grounded for life.”

“Me?” he squawks, playfully offended. “What about you?”

She scoffs. “Please. I’ll just pin it all on you.”

Leaning back, he pouts, arms crossed. “Wow. I plan this amazing day, violate a few embassorial rules, and probably put both of our countries on a massive red alert, and this is the thanks I get?”

“I helped plan it, too.” But he does have a point. “Thank you,” she says. “I had a lot of fun today.”

He turns his head to her, a grin stretching across his face. “Me too.”

His voice is so soft, so fond. They share a look, a moment, no words between them, only the silence of a true, deep companionship. They don’t need to say anything else, because they already know what the other would say.

As one, they break away, looking back out into the California evening.

They don’t talk much as the ferris wheel climbs higher and higher. Honestly, Annabeth is kind of impressed with how well he’s handling himself--she knows heights are a bit of a weakness of his. He grabs the edges of their gondola every once in a while as it drops a few feet, knuckles white and face a little green, but he manages to keep his dinner down, even as the ferris wheel grinds to a halt, Percy and Annabeth at the top of the world. The swing back and forth a little, hot faces against the cool evening breeze.

And they stay there.

And stay there.

And… stay there.

Annabeth checks her watch. How long have they been up here?

Percy taps his feet, a little too frantic just to be ADHD.

Finally, there’s a burst of noise from below them, garbled and static. “Uh, yes, excuse me--” the voice says, amplified through a megaphone. “Yeah, um, it appears we are having some… uh, technical difficulties with the Pixar Pal-A-Round. Please remain calm, as we have our best technicians on it, and we are working on evacuating the ride in a calm and efficient manner.” Then the voice cuts out.

Annabeth glances towards Percy. He has his hands in his lap, fists clenching and unclenching, over and over again. “Uh… you okay?”

“Hm? Oh, sure,” Percy says, “just fine. Peachy keen.” He squeezes his eyes shut, slowly blowing out his breath through his mouth.

“Hey.” She reaches over, and takes one of his hands in hers, lacing their fingers together. After a long day of holding hands, somehow it still manages to surprise her, how well they fit together, how her skin tingles as she rubs her thumb against his finger. “It’s gonna be fine. We’re gonna be just fine. They’re going to get us off this ride, and then we’ll fly home and be grounded for life.”

“I thought,” he wheezes, “you’d blame it all on me?”

“As if you could come up with a plan as genius as hiding from our guard in It's A Small World.”

He nods, shakily. “Right. All you. Definitely not my idea. Everyone knows I’d have looped back to Pirates of the Caribbean.”

“Definitely.” She squeezes his hand, scooting a little closer. “Just breathe with me a little, okay?”

They breathe together, slowly and evenly. At some point, Percy takes her hand in both of his, running his thumbs over her palm, tracing her lifelines like a map. His hands are big, and warm, and it seems to calm him down a little, so she doesn’t mind all that much.

Twilight darkens, stars twinkling against the grey, dusky sky, and still they are holding hands. Eventually, Percy relaxes, slumping against his seat.

“You good?”

He nods. He still doesn’t let go. “Yeah. Just…” he sighs, stretching his arms up, taking Annabeth’s hand with him. “Not super looking forward to the dressing down I’m going to get.”

She winces. Annabeth’s dad is a little more flexible than Percy’s when it comes to breaches of protocol. The king of Thera is somewhat famous for his paranoia. “I hope it was worth it.”

He whips his head to her, eyes wide. “Of course it was worth it!” he says, as though the opposite were even fathomable. “You kidding? This was the best day of my life.”

“Better than your sixteenth?” His father had officially acknowledged him that day. Annabeth had spotted him in a deserted hallway with his mother, the two of them fighting off a few happy tears. She knows just how special that day was for him.

“Not even close.” Squeezing her hand, he smiles again, that smile she knows almost better than her own by now. That smile she grew up with, a quiet oasis in a whirlwind of ancient tradition and modern media coverage. That smile is safety, familiarity. That smile was there to greet her when her mother chose to leave her family, when her uncle died without heirs, thrusting the position of heiress on her, whenever she had a rotten day or a bad grade or a lonely night, just on the other end of a phone, or down the hall, or in the kitchen.

Whatever happens, she knows, Percy will be her best friend. Her anchor.

Her…

She swallows. “Thank you,” she says again. “I needed this.” A day without an agenda. A day just for them.

His eyes are dark, and soft, like the water beneath them. One hundred and fifty feet in the air in a broken ferris wheel, there’s nowhere safer she can be. “Me too.”

So she’s not really surprised at herself when she says, “I’d really like to kiss you now.”

Eyes widening, just a hair, he opens his mouth, momentarily speechless. “You--are you sure?”

She nods, maybe a little too enthusiastically.

“Cool. Uh, me too.”

“Cool.”

Neither of them move.

“So, do--do you want to--”

Annabeth leans in, her other hand cupping his cheek, and kisses him.

His lips are soft. His mouth tastes like vanilla and bourbon. They are trapped in a metal box, one hundred and fifty feet off the ground, about to get the punishment of their lives when they get down, and it is absolutely, utterly perfect.

And when Annabeth pulls back, there are fireworks.

Quite literally.

Percy’s face glows with pink and green and purple, and a little fire in his eyes that’s all him. The pops of the fireworks, loud and brassy, and muted, completely overshadowed by the pounding of her heart in her chest.

They rest their heads against each other, breathing each other’s air, quiet and intimate, the calm before the storm that is surely coming. But that’s fine. Let it come, she thinks. She’ll be safe with Percy.

When the park technicians eventually get the ferris wheel moving again, Percy and Annabeth disembark from the gondola like nothing’s even gone wrong, waving to the crowd of people, fans, and reporters alike, who have swarmed the pier, phones and cameras held aloft in a constellation of light, before being quickly hurried away by Zoe and her crew, ushered to the end of the pier where Annabeth’s embassy’s car is waiting.

Percy doesn’t let go of her hand once.

***

KALYMNOS, GREECE--Prince Percy has arrived on the island for his family’s annual summer retreat, bringing his girlfriend, Princess Annabeth of Sweden, with him for the fifth year in a row, and the third as his official partner. Lifelong friends, the couple were most recently seen at Disneyland Tokyo, continuing something of a tradition for the two royals where they visit Disneyland parks across the globe. Our sources inside the castle are hinting that the family is planning something big this year. Could we see a proposal by the end of summer? Be sure to subscribe for more updates!

#pjo fic #percabeth #percabeth fic #my fic #au #perseannabeth #the rivalry ends here #will i ever stop writing modern royalty aus? no 💖#also look mari i even used a taylor swift song

138 notes · View notes

well-its-not-human-anymore · 3 years

Note

Okokok here this: april, reader and casey try to prank the boys. How does it go. With who does it fails/success, what was the prank, do they get caught? Do the boys get revenge, and if so, how?

Also, splinter sees it all unfolds, does he just gets himself a snack and watch, or does he tries to subtly join in without getting caught? (We all know hes got a playful side cmon)

Bonus: they try to prank vern too, maybe the boys join in to prank him? What do they do? Does he retaliate?

Okay so I admit I let my brain go nuts on this one, so it's a little long but I was cackling the entire time I was writing it.

TMNT Headcanons

Prank Wars

Leonardo

In your complete and utter defence, Leo had 100% started this

And also in your defence, you did tell him not to

Twice

But he tricked you into watching a horror movie and ended up dying your hair green

This meant war

You'd even wrapped up April and Casey into it

Their problems were your problems

Which meant that April was the one who convinced Splinter not to say anything to his sons

He was perfectly happy to oblige

Casey was just there to help set things up

And you liked the way his mind worked

The objective wasn't to go unnoticed, there would be no point in doing it and having no proof

You were doing this to prove that you could

Leo had emphasized that he couldn't be distracted

That you were to obvious and clumsy to prank him without him noticing

Challenge fucking accepted

And that's how you ended up at the kitchen table eating lunch with April and Casey when the boys were coming back from meditating with Splinter

April kept having to shove food in her mouth to hide her laughter

Casey just decided to wear sunglasses

And you kept overpowering the urge to smirk

"Hey guys, good to see you. Y/n have you seen my katanas?"

With the obstruction of water in your mouth you just nodded at him, pointing to the other room

He sauntered off, none the wiser to your victorious grin

When he came back in only a moment later his expression had done a complete 180

Leo made direct eye contact with you and you held that stare like a wolf cornered in its den

"does someone want to explain why my katanas are encased in blueberry jello?"

You raised your hand like a child in class

"hate to break it to you, but it's actually berry blue you uncultured bitch"

Raphael

Ohhhh you were so undeniably dead

A whole other level of six feet under

It wasn't a surprise that April and Casey had backed out on this one

It also wasn't a surprise that Splinter had offered to stand up for you if things went sideways

Donnie even gave you a sheet of paper with a list of hiding spots before hand

All of this went completely unnoticed by Raph, the target of your latest scheme.

And that was fine, you had only one objective here-

Make it out alive

But it was amazing what 1 person could do with some extra cash and internet access

So that's what led you to your current position.

Cross legged on the bench, watching the large red terrapin get ready for his first set, that in itself wasn't unusual, you always watched him lift just in case you needed to run and grab someone if something went wrong

Raph was none the wiser to your plan

At least that's what you thought

Your book was in your lap and you were calmly scanning your pages, somewhat comprehending the words but keeping a very close eye on the turtle across from you

"Hey y/n?"

You peeked over the edge of your book to meet his eyes

And your heart sank to your stomach

"Yeah Raph?"

He smirked at you, taking a lumbering step forward

"You ever seen that episode of the Office where Jim fills Dwight's phone with nickels so when he takes 'em out Dwight punches himself in the face?"

Shit shit shit shit shit shit-

"Uh... No, can't say that I have, why do you ask?"

That damn smile got even wider and all of your muscles tensed, you were ready to bolt

"I'm giving you a fifteen second headstart. Starting right now."

You flew to your feet and sprinted out of the weight room

"DONNIE WE GOTTA CODE RED!"

Your lungs were ready to burst by the time you made it to your decided hiding spot. Heavy footsteps went right underneath you and you held your breath, you wouldn't dare move.

You didn't come down until hours later when Splinter came and coaxed to you out of hiding

But deep down you knew you'd started something you couldn't finish.

Vern Fenwick

You didn't even have to convince the guys to partake in this

You didn't even get the chance to tell them what you were planning

They were already brainstorming

None of you let a word of it slip to April, she would've shut you down faster than you could blink

A complete buzz kill

But fake blood was relatively cheap and all of Vern's flooring was tile (meaning extremely easy to clean and bleach)

Donnie had really been the mastermind behind the execution, none of you had any idea how he'd rigged the apartment plumbing

But he'd assured you it would only affect Vern's suite and no one else's so you didn't concern yourself with it further

And after the fact you had to wonder what exactly the former cameraman was planning on the date he'd been in the middle of

All you knew was that you got a very frantic call from the falcon himself yelling about blood coming out of his tap and the sink wouldn't shut off and it was everywhere and what the fuck was happening?

You all knew that Splinter thought it was hilarious, he'd never been particularly fond of Vern

But he did make his sons assist in the clean up and bleaching of the victims apartment floor

You went too and offered moral support

Vern had hit on you one too many times, so there was no way you'd feel bad about this

Michaelangelo

As far as pranking went, you and Mikey were partners in crime

He always had great ideas and you always came up with the best ways to execute those ideas without getting caught

But when you separated those two chaos was guaranteed

You weren't entirely sure how you had been pitted against each other but you weren't entirely mad about it

You couldn't say the same for anyone else though, the others had been on edge all week.

Pranking Mikey was a challenge, he knew how you worked and vice versa

You'd been brainstorming with April for weeks now, maybe a new perspective would help

That's what the two of you told yourselves anyways

Much to your dismay, Mikey and Casey had been plotting against you as well, the traitor.

And perhaps even more unfortunate was the fact that both of your pranks somehow overlapped and backfired on the rest of the family

Because Mikey and Casey may have replaced the family tea set with a edible sugar replica that looked identical to the original

So that when you were asked to make tea for Splinter and Leo it would dissolve the second you poured the hot tea

But they didn't tell anyone else so Leo was left with an impromptu anxiety attack when he made his own tea before sitting down to meditate and it melted into sugary leaf water

And you and April had planned the 'cutting off your finger in the kitchen' with the knife, fake finger, and fake blood

Which in theory should've worked because Mikey was in the kitchen the most, that was his territory

However once you'd started your plan you couldn't stop it

so when you 'cut your finger off' and screamed for Mikey you didn't have time to yell "wait it's a prank!" before Donnie caught a glimpse of the scene and fainted

In your defence you didn't know the purple turtle could move that fast

And to Mikey's relief he was going to throw that cutting board out anyways

Splinter explicitly banned the two of you from pranking each other after that incident

Donatello

Per your own common sense you had come to the conclusion that pranking the families resident genius was a horribly stupid idea

So for once, you'd practiced some self control and refrained from any pranks involving Donnie

Now that's not to say that the turtle vowed from aiming any pranks towards you

He had morals but messing with you walked the line separating adorable from batshit crazy

And he was all for it

April advised against it severely and even Splinter seemed to think it wasn't the best idea, but that was a lesson his son had to learn on his own

On the flip side, the second Casey heard about Donnie's plan he was all for it

So when you came over for dinner they both had to hide their excited smiles as Casey passed you your spaghetti

He knew it was your favorite

Everyone else was oblivious, which looking back on it was a very bad thing

April had her suspicions that Donnie was pulling something this evening, but she couldn't put her finger on it

That wasn't until you swirled a mouthful of noodles around your fork and shoved it into your mouth, you were starving

Here lies your predicament-

You swallowed thickly and blinked like you were in pain, your hand went to your throat and you reached for your water, ending up chugging almost the entire bottle.

Your eyes met Donnie's in a serious type of concern

"Is there hot sauce in this?"

April choked on her breadstick and quickly covered her mouth

Casey hadn't picked up on it yet

"Awh yeah- how'd you figure it out so quickly?"

You erupted in a coughing fit that sent April rushing to your side before you could tumble to the floor

"You fucking assholes! Y/N has a capsaicin allergy! Casey go start the car we need to get them to the hospital!"

On the bright side you were fine after you were rushed to the ER

But you didn't speak to Donnie or Casey for two weeks following the accident

You eventually forgave them for it and they haven't targeted you since

Sorry if it got a little dark at the end, but I felt like it was more realistic. Also that has actually happened to me but it was a nut allergy (and that's how I found out I was allergic to cashews) But I feel like the ending was a good example of how pranking someone can go horribly wrong, you should always consider the possibilities before doing something that could cause harm to a person. (Unless they really really deserve it)

I really enjoyed writing this one and I hope you guys like it as much as I do! 😁🧡👍

-Mars 🌠

#tmnt x reader #tmnt raphael #tmnt leonardo #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt vern #prankwars #tmnt headcanons #tmnt bayverse #bayverse donatello #writing requests

149 notes · View notes

bipercabeth · 4 years

Note

“your hands are shaking” + percabeth !!! 🥺 (ofc I went for the hands)

started this with the intention of writing a lil drabble between roommates ch 9 and 10, but it got away from me. here’s 1.4k of soft idiots and hands

Percy comes home from the last swim practice before states and promptly throws himself onto the couch, tossing an arm over Annabeth’s thighs and pressing his face into the cushion next to them, his skin and breath contrasting the pervasive cold their radiator fights against. Today was the last intense day, so she knows he's hurting even before he hooks his hand under her leg to pull himself closer and groans with the effort. Annabeth sets the notes she scooped up upon his entry down on the coffee table and combs a hand through his damp hair with a frown.

"Did you walk all the way here with wet hair? Perce, it's freezing out."

"Can you let a guy die in peace?"

"We both know it's my life's purpose to make sure you never know peace, so I'm gonna need you to answer the question."

"You know the answer."

She thunks him gently on the back of his cold head but soothes his responding whine by scratching her nails along his scalp. He purrs, a low throaty sound she feels through the couch and his grip on her. Her playlist plays through the TV, a soft instrumental meant to help her focus on school. Instead it zeroes her in on Percy's profile, the edges of him that soften in the light of their apartment and her company. Soft black curls drape over his eyes, and she pushes it back to find them closed in contentment. A finger traces the line of his jaw of its own volition, soft and feather-light against the hard edge. She trails it down his crooked nose, which was broken one too many times to heal straight, and rides the bump over the dusting of freckles. Her fingertip only just traces his lips before he presses the barest of kisses to it, nearly shocking her into recoiling. Of all the sideways attempts at kissing him to express her feelings, he has never once made that move. It's just a whisper against her pointer finger, not her collarbone or cheek or wherever else she's laid her lips on him in a moment of courage, but it's significant all the same.

Instead of telling him that, she says, "If you get sick five days before states because you walked outside with wet hair in February, I'm actually gonna kill you.”

Percy ignores her threat. "Just wanted to get home to you."

"Well that's...incredibly hard to be mad at you over."

"It is, isn't it?" The corner of his mouth lifts just so, hinting at the dimple she knows will press into his cheek at a moment's notice.

"I take it back. I'm mad." She lifts his arm off her legs and attempts to scoot away, but he catches her around her legs again. She lets herself be manhandled, knowing her smile will betray her posturing the moment he looks up at her.

He pulls her closer than last time, now laying his head on her thigh, his cheek smushed against her sweatpants. "How's studying going?"

Annabeth's gaze flickers to the pile of books on the coffee table. "It's...going, I guess."

"You feeling okay?"

"Yeah, just..." She exhales and looks back to Percy, the most peaceful thing in the living room. "Midterms, ya know?"

"Like last time?"

There's an undercurrent of concern to his voice, one Annabeth is used to hearing but can never quite comprehend being directed her way. "No, not like last time. A good, normal amount of exam stress and existential dread." Her hand returns to his hair, which warms under her touch. "Is that why you hurried home?"

He looks up at her then, earnest despite the long day. "I just wanted to spend some time with you before our week explodes. You not going crazy is an added bonus though." His eyes undermine his tone as they search Annabeth's face, checking for eyebags and other signs of stress. Seemingly satisfied with his findings, he tucks his cheek back against her leg.

Resigning herself to being done with school work for the night, Annabeth nudges Percy and asks him to fish for the remote between the cushions. They're mid season six on New Girl, and she's hoping to finish before the week is up. Percy finds the remote and bends awkwardly to pass it to her behind his head.

"Percy, your hands are shaking," she says, taking the remote and his hand into her own.

"Practice was brutal today," he sighs. "Coach gave us this arm exercise where you do this between each stroke"—he flexes his hand before making a fist and opening it again—"for some reason. Threw us off for the beginning of practice, but it made us work harder in the end. That was probably the point, but right now it just sucks."

"Sit up."

"Annabeth, I can't ask you to—"

"You're not asking for anything. I'm telling you to sit up."

Percy heaves himself out of Annabeth's lap and rests against the back of the couch, turning to jelly in his attempt to protest. Paying him no mind, Annabeth throws her legs over his like a seatbelt and takes his far arm into her hands.

"Forearms bad?" she asks.

"It's all bad."

Annabeth rolls her eyes and flips his palm to the ceiling, feeling a slight tremor from the angle once more. She presses her thumbs from his knuckles to his wrist, the soft flesh of his palms malleable beneath her touch. They're the slightest bit clammy too, she notes with a small smile. They weren’t before her legs were in his lap.

Before long she moves to his forearms, anchoring his palm on her knee while she digs into the muscle and pushes out the lactic acid. Just as she reaches his elbow, she realizes she forgot to do anything with the TV.

"You can turn on whatever you like. I'm just gonna focus."

His voice is close. "I like watching you focus." Annabeth doesn't remember scooting almost entirely into his lap, though she's been leaning in the higher she travels up his arm. Doesn't mean she's ready to look up—with her tongue poking out in concentration, no less—and find his face inches away from hers.

Percy clears his throat and offers her his upper arm in the form of an escape. Annabeth takes it, sinking her fingers into his bicep and working out the stiffness.

It's a nice arm. Two of them, actually—he has two very nice arms. Objectively. From an artist's standpoint. It's no wonder Rachel used to use him as a model for anatomy studies in her drawing classes. He has good anatomy. Solid. Streamlined. A true swimmer's build, all broad shoulders and tapered torso.

Annabeth gives the swell of his shoulder one last squeeze and switches arms, scooting away slightly to make room for his wingspan. She starts the same way as last time: with his palm face up in hers. Her hands have memorized this route by now, so she lets her mind wander as she sets about his forearm.

"How's practice been? Besides the obvious, I mean."

"Do we include Sloan being a dick in the obvious?"

She can't help the way her fingers dig in. "No. You tell me about that. Always."

He sets his free hand on her shin for a moment, putting out a bit of her fire. "Nothing serious. Just stupid comments, usually under his breath. He's not going to try anything with Coach watching him the way he has been."

Annabeth focuses her frustration into her work, ignoring Percy's wince. "You promise you'd tell me if it was bad?"

"Do I have a black eye?"

She makes a show of looking. "Nope."

"Then he didn't say anything bad."

Annabeth finishes his arm and frowns. "That just means you didn't get hit." She picks up both of his hands and checks his knuckles. The skin is unbroken and unbruised, and he didn't wince at all when she worked his palms. In a lapse of restraint, she presses her lips there. "Keep 'em that way, okay?"

He chuckles, and she watches his Adam's apple move. "Yes ma'am. You done?"

She releases him with a flourish. "All done. Nothing to do now but wait."

Percy looks at her, his eyes dark. "I know the feeling."

#and they were roommates #drabbles #NOT RLY BUT THAT'S THE TAG #my fic #my percabeth #alyssa tag #ridiculous amoung of alyssa seeking missiles in this #xoxo cannot wait for u to perish #useralyssa

384 notes · View notes

study-coffee-chicago · 4 years

Text

Small (A Halstead brothers + Halstead sister imagine)

Grab your snacks because this is a long one.

Warning: graphic depictions of violence.

Being short and able to fit into small spaces had its perks...but you didn't think it would come in handy in such a dire situation as this. Your mind wandered back to who knows how many hours ago, reminding you of how you got in the situation and what the current situation entailed. Needless to say, you were currently in hell.

***

"Sev? What are you doing here?" you asked as you opened the front door to reveal Kelly Severide holding a six-pack of beer.

"Heard your brother just worked a really tough case. He here?" Kelly asked.

"He's in the shower. Voight gave him the day off after the case yesterday. But, c'mon in."

You stepped out of the way and allowed Kelly to enter, and closed the door. You went back over to the kitchen where you were pouring yourself a bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee. After all, it was only nine in the morning.

"Want anything?" you asked Kelly.

"I'm good, thanks. But if you could put these in the fridge that'd be great."

"Only if I can have one," you joked, grabbing the beer and putting it on a shelf in the fridge.

"If your brother wasn't here, I probably would let you."

"Kelly?" Jay asked walking out of the bathroom in a pair of jeans, still without a shirt on as it was in his hand.

"My eyes!" you yelled, quickly covering them with your hand.

"Do you ever leave the bathroom with a shirt on? Or do you just put it on once you're out?" Kelly laughed.

"It's my house. I can do what I want."

"Well, put the damn shirt on. You're scarring the poor kid."

"Fine, fine, okay." He slipped the shirt over his head. "You're good now."

You uncovered your eyes and took a sip of your coffee. You were about to swallow when Jay decided it wasn't too early to mess with you. "Not like she hasn't seen dudes shirtless before. She really wants to see that one kid from her political science class shirtless."

"Excuse you?" you exclaimed after you had spit your coffee back into your mug, causing Kelly to look at you with a disgusted look on his face. "I do not!"

"You're not exactly quiet when you talk on the phone with Emma, Y/N," Jay smirked.

"You see this, Kelly? This is the shit I have to put up with every day."

Kelly decided to smack Jay upside the head. "Ow! What the hell was that for?"

"Be nice to your sister!" Kelly laughed. "Or else I'll tell her that I caught you and Hailey making out in your truck on my way out of Molly's the other night!"

"I knew it! I knew you guys were in love with each other! Kelly, I need you to put that statement in writing because Will now owes me fifty bucks."

"Wait, you guys made bets on my love life?" Jay asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"So, he is in love with her!" Kelly yelled, giving you a high five.

"Okay, enough about me," Jay started, effectively putting an end to that conversation. "What are you even doing here?" he asked, turning to Kelly.

"I heard about your case last night and I figured you could use some company. I brought beer."

"Great. Once I finish my coffee, we can break into that. You catch the Bears game the other day?"

And, now that they were talking about the glorified game of catch that was football, you took that as your cue to leave.

***

A reminder popped up on your phone at 11 am sharp. Tell Jay that low oil light came on in car it read.

You walked out into the living room only to hear Kelly say, "I'm tellin' you man, girls love that shit."

You assumed that shit was some sex thing...so you didn't want to know in the slightest. You cleared your throat, and Jay turned to you with wide-eyes.

"Uh, Y/N, how much of that did you happen to hear?"

"All I heard was him saying girls love that shit. Thank God I didn't hear more. But, my low oil light came on, so can change it?"

"The light or the oil?" Jay asked, taking another sip of his beer.

You squinted your eyes at him. "The oil. I'm stupid when it comes to cars, but I'm not that stupid."

"I'll do it in an hour."

"I have a class at three."

Jay groaned. "Seriously? Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"Because it just came on yesterday?" Jay raised an eyebrow. "Okay, fine it came on three days ago. But in my defense, you haven't been home during the day and it's hard to change the oil in the dark."

"I can do it in the dark," Kelly pointed out.

"I can do it in the dark," Jay mocked. "Of course you can, because you're a firefighter. I don't suppose you know how to fire a sniper do you?"

"Dude, I'm a firefighter, not a cop!"

"Listen, I don't care who changes it faster or who can do it in the dark. Jay, just please change my oil."

"Uh, fine," Jay groaned, standing up from the couch.

"No, I can do it," Kelly offered.

"You sure?" Jay asked.

"As long as you buy me lunch."

"I knew there was a catch. But, sure. Me and Y/N will go pick up lunch and we'll bring some to Will too and we'll be back before she has to leave for her class at three." He turned to you. "Sound good?"

"When have I ever passed up the opportunity for free food?"

"Never?" Jay guessed.

"Exactly," you answered, grabbing your car keys off the hook and tossing them to Kelly.

If you knew what was about to happen, you would have definitely stayed home.

***

"So, care to elaborate on you and Hailey?" you asked Jay as you were on your way to Chicago Med to drop off some food from Mama Garcia's to Will.

"If you give me that fifty bucks Will's gonna pay you, then I might just enlighten you."

"Nah, I'll just have Kelly tell me everything he knows instead. Or I can ask Ruzek--"

You were cut off by the sound of sirens behind you. "What the hell? I wasn't even speeding," Jay muttered.

"For once in your life," you shot back.

"Shut it."

Jay rolled the truck to a stop and you shot a look behind you. No one had gotten out of the car yet.

"They're probably just running my plates," Jay answered, seeing as you looked confused. "Some cops are weird and run 'em before they get out of the car. I made the mistake of doing that once when I was a rookie and the suspect fled."

"Oooh, did you get in trouble? I hope you got yelled at!"

Jay looked behind him at the cops who stepped out of the car. At first, he thought they might have been plain-clothed officers, but why would plain-clothed officers be driving a squad car? Then, he looked closer and it was as if he was transported back to four years ago.

"Y/N--"

"I was kidding, I don't care if you got yelled at or--"

"Y/N!" Jay yelled. "I need you to get down now, and call 911. Tell them my name and tell them to ping your phone."

"Jay, what's going on?" You slid off your seat and curled up into a ball on the floor, pulling out your phone.

"Just do it, dammit!"

Jay reached for his gun that he kept hidden in the glove compartment as your fingers flew across your phone.

You heard the tell-tale sound of a window being broken and looked up the see Jay covering his face, gun still in hand. Jay tried to push open the door, but before he could, the door was ripped open and he was dragged out of the car. "Detective Halstead. So, we meet again," you heard a deep voice say.

"Hello, 911 what's your emergency?"

"Detective Jay Halstead, intelligence. Ping this phone," was all you could manage to get out.

"You hear that?" another voice asked. "Sounded like a girl and it came from his truck."

"I'm alone!" Jay yelled. "I just came to pick up some food is all!" he protested. In a normal situation, he would've tried to fight back. But, this wasn't a normal situation. He needed them to take him wherever it was they wanted him and he needed them to do it fast so that they didn't find you.

"I don't know about that, Detective. Where's the fire from the last time I saw you? You never go down without a fight. Are you protecting someone, is that it?" He paused and nodded to his associate. "Check his car."

"You son of a-- Ahhhhh!" Jay writhed as a taser struck his stomach.

"Jay!" You jumped up at the sound of your brother's cries of pain. He never showed weakness, so this was bad.

"Take her!" the man who was holding Jay yelled.

You jumped out of the car and started running, but they were too fast and caught up to you within five steps.

"Let me go! Let me go!" you yelled as you struggled and kicked your legs out as you were picked up off the ground.

You saw Jay trying to fight his captor as well, but it was no use because as soon as he got tased again and showed weakness for a second time, they tied his hands behind his back. "Y/N, stop fighting," Jay gritted out. "It'll-- only get-- worse."

"Let go of me you fucking asshole!" you yelled, swinging your arms, hoping that you got him in the nose.

"Derek, I think this bitch needs a little lesson in obedience," the one who was holding you said.

"I'll do that in a second." He pulled out a syringe.

"Don't!" you yelled as you watched what he was doing. But it was too late, the syringe full of sedatives had already been plunged into your older brother's shoulder, ending all your hopes of escape.

"Now for you," he walked over, twirling a knife in his hands. He handed it to his associate, who held it against your throat.

"You scream or move, you die."

***

Jay woke up to a pain in his shoulder. All he could think was Not again. Not fucking Derek Keyes again.

But then, he heard your screams of pain coming from the other room and that immediately snapped him out of his groggy state. He had to get out of here. He could be tortured like an animal, after all, he'd already been through it once, but there was no way in hell he was going to sit back and allow it to happen to you.

He tugged on the ropes securing him to the pipe and tried to jam his shoulder into it to make it loose. It moved slightly and he knew that if he had time, he could get out of it.

You would no longer laugh at the story of Jay going through taser certification or laugh at how much he bitched about having to be recertified each year. Because God, taking a taser to the stomach hurt like hell. And, what made it even worse was that you were chained to the ceiling, so because of your short stature, you couldn't even put a toe on the ground. So now, when you were tased or hit, despite trying to double over, you would just swing back and forth, like a tormented and tortured rag doll.

"J-Jay!" you yelled as you were tased in the stomach and swung back once more.

"He won't put himself through this again, sweetheart. After all, he knows what's it's like. He'll just let you take one for the team this time."

"Liar," you gasped out.

"I have a better idea. How about we play a little game, just you and me." He fiddled with your bra strap that was falling down your left shoulder. They had ripped your shirt off before they had begun tasing you. You were just thankful they had let you keep your jeans on. "Don't you want to know what the game is?"

"No--" you were cut off by being tased in the shoulder, causing you to scream out.

"Not the answer I was looking for. Let's try this again, shall we? Do you want to know what the game is?"

"Y-Yes."

"See now that wasn't so hard." Keyes put his hands on your shoulders to stop you from swinging. "The game is simple. I give you a choice between two clothing items. You choose the one you want to take off and then...well, you'll see what happens from there. Now, here's your choice: bra or jeans?"

"Wh-what?" you stuttered.

"Did I stutter, bitch? Make your decision, bra or jeans?"

"Jeans," you gasped. At least you had underwear underneath. And, if he took off your bra and tased you there, well, you did not want to know how that felt.

He pulled out a knife and you instinctively tried to sway back away from him. Keyes chuckled. "Don't worry. This won't come near your face...yet."

Then, you heard the ripping of denim as your jeans were quite literally cut off of your body.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you the rest of the game," Keyes smirked. "Wherever I take clothes of off, you take a taser hit to." Without even giving you time to process what he had said, he stuck the taser into your left leg, causing a burning and writhing sensation to go up your entire body.

"Mercy! Mercy!" you yelled out. Honestly, at this point, you wished you would just pass out.

"One last choice," Keyes started, twirling the knife between his fingers. "I can continue having all my fun with you or I can get your brother and--"

"Jay. Take Jay," you gritted your teeth and said without thinking of the repercussions of your actions.

"What you want, you get."

Keyes unchained your hands and you all but fell into his arms to avoid falling on the cold, hard concrete. He tugged your arm, pulling you up and you could've sworn if he pulled any harder, that your shoulder would have popped out of its socket. He then dragged you over to a large steel door, put in a code, and pushed it open, causing it to scrape against the floor.

That's when you heard him. Jay.

"Let her go you fucking animals!"

"Oh, we're letting her go alright," Keyes chuckled sinisterly as he got closer and closer to the light of the small flickering lightbulb that was hanging from the ceiling, giving the space you and Jay were currently being held an eerie glow. "But the deal was her for you."

***

You didn't know how much time had passed. You tried to keep your mind off of Jay's screams from the torture chamber by translating all your thoughts into Spanish. That only helped for the first few though, because they all had to do with pain.

Me duele. Me duele. Me duele.

I hurt. I hurt. I hurt.

Pain. Pain. Pain.

You were currently tied to a pole about six inches away from the rectangular-looking pipe that Jay had been tied to before Keyes took him. Everything Jay had taught you about survival had gone out the window. Not that you thought it mattered. All he had taught you to really do was how to break zip ties if your wrists and ankles were zip-tied together and if you needed to hit someone, hit their nose with the heel of your hand and then run as fast as possible while their vision was blurry.

Your shoulders ached from holding your weight for so long and the bleeding on your stomach had slowed to a trickle after all those taser hits. Your thigh was still numb from the worst taser hit of them all, but you were slowly regaining feeling in it.

You heard moaning coming from the left of you and turned your head to see a shirtless Jay being dragged back over to you. His face was already bruising and there was blood dripping down his torso. As he got closer, you couldn't even bear to look at him. You were the one who caused this. You were the one who made him go through all this pain. If you would've just taken what Keyes was giving you, Jay wouldn't be hurting as much--if not more--than you were.

They tied Jay to the pipe once more and then Keyes crouched down to your height. You resisted the urge to spit in his face. "I hope he forgives you." He began to caress your face, causing you to grit your teeth to keep from crying out, in fear or disgust, you weren't sure which. "Because I sure as hell wouldn't, sweetheart."

"Get your-- hands-- off her," Jay heavily panted next to you.

"Nobody asked you!" The echo of the slap Jay had just received from Keyes could be heard throughout the entire basement, causing you to flinch backward, hitting your head on the pole.

"Ah, fuck," you muttered through gritted teeth.

"Now, I'm gonna go make a few phone calls, eat some food, maybe have some friends over." At the mention of friends, your eyes widened, hoping that didn't mean what you thought it did. "Oh, don't worry, sweetheart. It's not what you think...yet."

Then, he left and you scooted around the pole so you could be closer to your brother. "I'm a monster," you whispered.

"What?" Jay turned his head to look at you, trying to maneuver his shoulders under the pipe to loosen it once more.

"He said you or me, that I had to choose and I told him to take you. I'm sorry. I should've just let him--"

"No, what you did was the right thing. I'll be fine. I was worried about you the whole time you were in there." Only then did he get a good look at you and saw that you were only in your bra and underwear. "Oh, God. He didn't-- I can't forgive myself if he--"

"Jay, he didn't do that." You shivered, despite being covered in a layer of nervous sweat.

And, Jay being a detective and all, didn't miss that. "Can you move any closer to me?"

You tugged on the rope, using whatever slack it had left in it to slowly drag yourself closer to Jay. Somehow, you got yourself close enough to Jay that you were leaning against him. You felt the warmth of his chest and remembered when Jay had told the doctor one time that his temperature always ran a little high, that that was normal for him. And God, right now you were really thankfully for those extra point three degrees he had on you.

"You're warm," you mumbled.

"You're getting blood in your hair."

"But it's warm." You closed your eyes.

"No, no, no, no, no." Jay moved his shoulder, making your head move up and down.

"Stop it. Trying to take a nap before he comes back."

"No, no we are not doing that. You do not close your eyes on me, Y/N Halstead. Do you understand me?"

You blinked and opened your eyes. "Fine. But everything hurts."

"I know. I know it does, kid. But we're gonna get out of here, okay?" Jay craned his neck to look above him. Then, he looked you up and down. "Think you could fit through that air vent?"

***

"You've reached Jay. Leave a message and I'll get back to you. At the tone please record your message, when you have finished recording--"

"Dammit, Halstead. It's been two hours!" Severide grumbled to himself as he sat on the couch in your house. Then, he scrolled through the phone to find your contact.

He waited for a few rings. "Hey, it's Y/N. I can't come to the phone right now. But pro tip, send me a text and maybe I'll answer that. Bye! At the tone please record your--"

He slammed his finger down on the end call button and went to call the third Halstead in a row, Will.

"Kelly?" Will asked as he answered his phone in the doctor's lounge. "Not to sound rude or anything, but why are you calling me?"

"Have you seen Jay or Y/N?"

"Can't say I have, why?"

"They went out to grab lunch and said they'd drop some off to you and it's been two hours. I don't know, maybe something happened to them."

"Yeah, I'll call Voight. Maybe Jay got called in and Y/N's just at the district. I'll let you know what I find out."

"Thanks, man."

Will ended the call and scrolled through his contacts until he found Hank Voight's phone number.

"Voight," the gravely-voiced sergeant answered.

"Hank, it's Will Halstead. Any chance you've seen my brother or sister lately?"

"No. I gave Halstead the day off and I haven't seen Y/N. Why? Is everything alright?"

"It's just that Kelly Severide just called me and he said that Jay and Y/N were out grabbing food and it's been two hours and neither of them is answering their phones."

"Okay, I'll look into it and get back to you. Don't worry about it. They probably just have no service because of a downed line."

"Yeah," Will agreed, trying to be optimistic. "Thanks."

"No problem, doc."

Voight ended the call and walked out of his office and into the bullpen. It was a slow day in Intelligence and hell, Ruzek hadn't even shown up yet.

"Is Ruzek gonna show up or is he playing hookey today?" Voight asked, annoyed.

"I think he's just hungover," Kevin answered. "If we got a case though, I'll pick him up on the way there and wake his ass up."

"Hank." Voight turned to look at the stairs, seeing none other than Trudy Platt. "You all need to listen to this."

She pressed play on an iPad and your voice came through the speaker. "Detective Jay Halstead, intelligence. Ping this phone."

"That's Y/N's voice," Kevin said.

"Trudy, when was this call placed?" Voight asked.

"About an hour and a half ago."

"Okay. Atwater, go pick up Ruzek. Burgess, ping Y/N's phone. Upton, me and you are gonna go suit up and then go find Jay and Y/N's last known."

"Copy that," Hailey answered.

***

"No sign of them, Sarge," Hailey said as she walked around Jay's truck, which showed clear signs of forced entry.

"This is 5021 squad," Voight spoke into his radio, "I need you to roll the crime lab on our current location and notify all units, an officer and a civilian have been abducted."

"Should we call Will?" Hailey asked.

"No. Not until we get more information. We don't need him to know that both of his siblings have been kidnapped. Because, if he's anything like Jay, which there's a 99% chance he is, he'll do something reckless. And we can't have that, not with this case."

"Kim, do you have any pod footage from our location?" Hailey asked.

"I do, but it's not facing that way. Wait, I got something. It looks like there was a squad car...and Jay's truck is out of frame. Dammit!"

"Kim track that patrol car number, see if it was reported missing or stolen."

"Copy."

There was typing on Kim's end before she came back on the radio. "Patrol car was reported stolen from the police garage this morning. According to the GPS, it says it's at the bottom of the Chicago River."

"So, whoever did this ripped the GPS out. Great."

"Hank," Trudy's voice came over the radio.

"What do you have for me, Trudy?"

"You need to get back to the district. There's a package for you and it's got a DVD and a flip phone in it. Some kid dropped it off, said it was important that this be viewed by you and Intelligence."

***

"Anybody else getting deja vu from this? Or is it just me?" Adam asked as he popped the DVD into the computer as everyone else crowded around to get a view of the screen.

"If this is what I think it is, then it is not good," Voight agreed.

"Someone care to enlighten me?" Hailey asked.

"About four years ago, there was this dealer, Derek Keyes. We had a buy going down in Midway and he killed his own brother and took Jay. Sent us a DVD and a flip phone," Adam answered.

"We watched Jay get tortured like an animal," Kevin said.

"And then Keyes called," Adam continued. "He said he wanted all our CI files and to send a lone female officer. We made fake files and sent Erin Lindsay, but they didn't have him. So, Erin had to go back with them, and somehow, I have no idea how those two did it, but they fought off Keyes and his associates and got out of there alive."

"Let's get this over with," Voight said.

They all held their breath as the video booted up. When Adam did press play, they were met with you hanging from the ceiling and being tased. They could hear Jay's screams in the background telling them to let you go.

"J-Jay. Take Jay," you panted and were taken down and dragged out.

Then, the video switched to Jay being tased. Hailey thought she was going to be sick. They had her partner, the man she had finally shared her feelings with and she'd be damned if they took him away from her.

The phone rang and Voight flipped it open and put it on speaker. "Hello?"

"Sergeant Voight, so we meet again," Derek Keyes' voice came through the phone. "I wish it were under better circumstances."

"What do you want, Keyes? We both know how this goes."

"I know what you want," Keyes started, smirking on the other end of the call. "You want your detective and his precious little sister who just so happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I've gotta say, Jay is quite the martyr this time around. Not like his sister gave him much of a choice, but he did it willingly. Didn't even fight back when he got back in there, all he said was not to hurt her more than I already have."

"She's just a kid, Keyes!" Adam yelled. "Let her go!"

Adam was like another older brother to you, but he was the fun brother. He always said that if you went to a party and needed a place to crash after without telling your brothers, he was your guy. He was also the one who, whenever you had to be stuck at the district for whatever reason, would sneak you a few dollars if you didn't have cash on you and you'd get Oreos from the vending machine.

"Oh, but that wouldn't be much fun for me now, would it?" Keyes chuckled.

"What do want?" Voight sneered.

"All of the drugs from the evidence locker. Meet me tonight at ten pm and you'll get your precious detective and his kid sister back. Send a lone, female officer. I'll send you the address."

Then, the line went dead.

"Okay, so we just go and check out all the drugs from evidence and throw them in a bag and do the meet. Simple," Adam stated.

"Are you out of your mind?" Voight asked, stepping closer to Adam. "Most of those drugs are laced, and there no way I am sending that much out onto the streets!"

"It's not just Jay this time! They have Y/N!"

"He's right, Sarge," Kevin backed up his best friend. "If it were just Jay, we might be able to get out of it without getting the drugs to Keyes. But, Y/N's got no way to defend herself in there, not with guys two times her size. You saw how she looked in that video and how she cried out for Jay. He'll do anything for her, Sarge. That's usually a good thing, but it might not be in this case."

They all knew what Kevin was getting at: If it was a choice between you or Jay dying, Jay would take the bullet in a heartbeat.

"Alright," Voight nodded. "I'll go sign out the drugs. Kim, get a wire on Hailey. Atwater and Ruzek, scope out the place and find the best spot to watch the drop."

***

"Jay, I swear to God if you break your damn shoulder--"

"I will not break my shoulder, Y/N." Jay gritted his teeth as he shoved his shoulder into the pipe.

"All I'm saying is that Will is gonna have to poke you with a needle if that happens."

"Listen, we're gonna get poked and prodded anyway." There was a soft clang as one end of the pipe came loose and popped off its bearings.

Jay quickly got his hands out of the rope and moved over to untie you.

"Oh, Thank God." Jay pulled the rope off your wrists, to see blood trickling down them.

"What the hell did you do?" Jay asked. His wrists weren't bloody, just raw, so he didn't know how yours had gotten that bad without you saying something.

"When they were hurting you, I just kept tugging on them. But it didn't work. They just got tighter."

"Yeah, because with the type of knot they tied you up with, the more you tug, the tighter it gets. Can you feel your leg yet?"

"How did you know it was numb?"

"I'm a detective. I notice things and you kept pinching your leg."

"It's better, I guess."

"Try and stand up, walk a few steps, and then we are getting out of here."

"How? You're gonna boost me up to that air vent where we have no idea where it ends and then I'm gonna go outside, pray that it's not snowing, and try and fight this guy off. Not to mention, I am literally just in my bra and underwear!"

"Listen, you probably won't have to go very far before someone who's concerned comes up to you and you ask to use their phone and you call Will, who will call Voight. If Will doesn't pick up, call 911. And, it's Chicago. People have seen weirder things than this."

You started walking around, making sure you could feel your leg. And you could feel it alright. You could feel it aching from your knee up to your hip, but you had to get out of here. You didn't know how much more of that you could take. And, you felt nauseous...but you couldn't tell Jay that or else he'd make you sit down and your escape plan would be dead in the water.

"Ready?" Jay asked.

"As I'll ever be," you answered, walking closer to him.

"You'll be okay, kid. We're gonna be okay."

You nodded, holding back tears, and then took a deep breath. Jay grunted in pain as he took your foot in his hand and boosted you up so that you could reach the open vent. Once you got your hands tightly wrapped around the entrance, Jay pushed so that your body was completely inside. You couldn't imagine the amount of pain he was in as he was having to irritate all of the wounds on his stomach and shoulders to get you up there.

You began your crawl through the dark and hoped that you didn't see a snake or a different type of reptile or rodent. Because, if you did and Keyes didn't kill Jay, you sure as hell would.

You crawled through the dark for what to you felt like hours, but in reality, it had only been three minutes, until you saw a speck of light ahead of you. You went as fast as your injured body would allow you to go, knowing that the outside world and freedom were getting closer and closer with every struggling step.

"Fuck," you muttered. You could see outside through the vent, but there was just one problem. You'd have to kick out the metal filter in order to jump outside.

You stifled a scream as you pulled your legs back, crunching them up to your chest which rubbed against the wounds on your stomach and kicked forward. You heard a creaking noise, taking that as a good sign, you kicked the filter seven more times with all the strength you had left and heard it hit the soft snow below.

You poked your head out, for once thankful that you were being held in a basement so that you were at ground level and wouldn't have to jump from four stories high.

But it was cold, oh so cold, and your lack of clothing didn't help matters.

Then, you heard Jay scream.

Hearing that kicked your adrenaline into high gear and you slipped out of the air vent and onto the ground, your feet making footprints in the snow. But, it was as if you couldn't even feel your feet on the verge of being frostbitten as you ran across the yard, further and further away from that place, closer and closer to safety.

But then, you came to a fence, which made your heart stop. You couldn't remember the last time you had climbed a fence! Yes, it paid to be small so you could fit in an air vent, but it did not help you the slightest bit when trying to jump a fence.

You gripped the metal and slid your foot into one of the rectangles, hauling yourself up as fast as you could.

But, you weren't fast enough.

You were ripped off the fence so fast that it made your head spin, the dizziness causing bile to rise in your throat.

"Let me go!" you yelled, kicking and screaming, hoping that your foot would make contact with any part of Derek Keyes' body that would cause him pain.

"Oh, where's the fun in that?"

"Please--" You couldn't finish your sentence before Keyes had slapped you across the face and then pressed a piece of duck tape on your mouth, effectively shutting you up.

"Much better. Now I can enjoy my peace and quiet."

You huffed and tried to scream through the duck tape, but it was no use. You tried to lick the duck tape like Jay had taught you, but you had been without water for so long that the tape wouldn't lose its stickiness no matter how hard or long you tried. Salty tears rolled down your face, wasting whatever water your probably dehydrated body had left.

You were once again dragged into the basement, meeting Jay, who was on the floor writhing in pain from the taser hit he had just received, chains on his wrists and ankles.

"Look who finally decided to turn back up, detective," Derek said, as he chained you to the pole. You knew that you'd probably need a tetanus shot from the rust getting into your cut-up wrists...if you ever go out of here that is.

"Op! Op!" you tried to yell stop through your duck tape, but that was the best you could do.

"Let her go, Keyes," Jay panted. "You want me, you have me. Now," he paused to take in some much-needed air, "just let her go."

"That was going to be the plan before I caught her trying to escape. I was going to take her and exchange her for the drugs and then maybe your people would find you in time. But, seeing as she is the escapee and you're just the accomplice, I think that she should get a longer prison sentence. That's how it works, isn't it detective?"

You whimpered, but Jay said nothing. A kick to his side made him remember who was in charge. "Yeah, yeah, that's how-- that's how it works."

"Precisely my point." He nodded at one of his associates who pulled out a syringe. Instinctively, Jay flinched. "Aw, is the big, bad detective afraid of a little needle?" Then, he plunged the needle into Jay's shoulder once more.

Jay tried to stay awake by focusing on you, silently telling you that it would be okay, but soon his eyes closed, the drugs taking over his system.

"Get him in the van, go do the deal," he told the guy who had just put sedatives in your brother's system. "As for you, sweetheart, it's time for another game."

***

"Hailey, van pulling up on your six," Ruzek said into his radio.

"Copy," Hailey answered. Seeing as she was unarmed, this needed to go smoothly. Not just for her, but for you and Jay.

As the van pulled up, Hailey's heart beat faster and faster. One slip up and she, Jay, and you would all easily be dead.

"Lone female officer," Keyes' associate said as he pulled up to Hailey. "Voight knows how to listen. You got what we asked for?"

"Sure do," Hailey answered, popping the trunk and pulling out the bag full of drugs. "All the drugs from 21st's evidence locker." She unzipped the bag, showing it to the men. "Now, give me my people, and then you can have 'em."

"That's not how this works. The drugs and then you get them back."

Hailey hesitated, but then she heard Voight's voice in her earpiece. "Do it, Upton. We have them surrounded."

She handed over the bag and he inspected it. "Get him out!" he yelled to the person in the back with Jay.

The door was opened and Jay was shoved out of the van, smashing his face into the gravel as the van sped off.

"Take 'em," Voight said.

"Sarge, Y/N's not here!" Hailey yelled. "It's only Jay and I need an ambo here! Now!"

"They- They got her, Hailey. Escape-- caught-- still there," Jay gasped as Hailey helped him sit up and wiped some blood from his face.

"Jay says Y/N's still there!" Hailey said and then the ambulance came up next to them.

Hailey undid the knots that were holding Jay's wrists and ankles together. They had switched out the chains for rope as soon as they were far away enough from Keyes' place that they knew that Jay wouldn't escape.

"Hailey, I counted- I counted the turns. They didn't give me enough and I woke- I woke up as soon as the van started."

"Sarge, I need you here, now! I think we got something, but I'm gonna need some help."

"Copy," Voight answered.

"Can you stand up, sir?" the paramedic asked Jay.

"Yeah, yeah I can do that." Hailey took his hand and helped him stand up and sit in the back of the ambulance.

"Jesus, man," Adam said as he saw Jay's current state. "You look like hell."

"Not the time," Voight admonished. "Hailey, what do you got?"

"Jay said he counted the turns. So if we can somehow get him in the car, I think he might be able to tell us where to go by backtracking."

"Halstead, you good to go?"

"Yeah," Jay answered, slowly standing up.

"Sergeant," the paramedic turned to Voight, "we really need to get him to Chicago Med."

"Listen to me, his sister is missing and probably being tortured right now. He is the only person who knows where to go because those other two sons of bitches who brought him here ain't talking. So, if you take him to the hospital and his sister dies, her death is on you. But if it makes you feel any better, one of you can ride with us," Voight sneered.

The paramedic reached behind her, pulling out a medical bag. "Take this. Use the hydrogen peroxide to clean the cuts. Use the bandages and gauze to cover them up, but remember to clean all of them." She looked at his stomach. "This one needs stitches, so I'm gonna need to keep him here--"

"No! We can just pack it, can't we?" Hailey asked.

"I mean, you could. It'd only work for a max of two hours."

"Well, we better work fast then," Voight said. "Hailey, help him to the car."

***

Keyes roughly grabbed your face in his hand. You were once again chained up and hanging from the ceiling by your wrists. The minute you stopped swinging, you did what you should've done hours ago. Jay wasn't here to save you and this wasn't going to get any easier. You were saving yourself in this one.

You spat in his face, resulting in you getting a slap across your face and then getting tased in the shoulder.

"I'm getting bored of this," Keyes said, faking a yawn.

He turned around and you used that moment to gather up all your strength and swing backward, using the momentum to carry you forward and kicking your legs out, successfully hitting him in the back, making him fall to the ground with a thud. You wiggled in the chains, ignoring the pain in your bloody wrists screaming out for you to stop. But, who were you kidding? They weren't going to budge.

"Tough girl, huh?" Keyes snarled as he stood up, pulling an orange lighter from his pocket. He flicked it open, flames slithering out. "Good thing I like tough girls. And, I also have another game."

You spit at him again, but he was too far away for it to reach him. "Go to hell!"

"I was going to tell you the rules, but since you wanna be so feisty, you can figure it out as we go."

He moved closer to you and reached up to your arms. You screamed out as the flames licked up your left arm, testing your restraints once more and trying with all your might to swing to the right, away from Keyes and his lighter. As you screamed, Keyes counted.

Then, he went to the other arm and did the same thing, counting to the same number and pulling the lighter away. But, since you kept screaming, he kept counting.

He then moved the lighter around your stomach for six seconds, and you screamed for another two. "You know what this means? Eight seconds the next place I light up. If you shut your goddamn mouth, I wouldn't have to do this."

"Fuck you!" You felt a wave of nausea again and this time, you knew you weren't going to be able to keep it down. "I'm gonna- I'm gonna--" And then you puked right down yourself. If you didn't already feel humiliated and at the mercy of Keyes, you sure did now. Chained up, covered in your own vomit, and just waiting to be burned once more.

This was how you were going to die. At this point, you just needed to accept it. Maybe if you shut up, you'd be able to die in a little less pain than you were currently in.

Keyes laughed at how helpless you were and moved his lighter to your collarbone. "No, no, please! Please just kill me! Please!" you pleaded.

"Where's the fun in that?"

Then, he held the lighter to your collarbone. You screamed and tried to get away from the lighter, but you were losing energy and through the pain, you remembered what Keyes said: If you shut your goddamn mouth, I wouldn't have to do this. So, you screamed for two seconds and bit your tongue as hard as you could to keep from yelling out once again, making more seconds get added to your burns.

"You're learning. That's good," Keyes said as he played with the lighter, making the flames go in between his fingers.

"I'll be quiet I promise!"

"Two more seconds." He moved the lighter to your thigh and was about to flick it to make fire spit out when he was loudly interrupted.

"Derek! We gotta go! They found us!"

Keyes threw the open lighter to the ground. "Looks like you'll actually get your death wish."

Then, he bolted out the door as you watched the flames moving across the concrete, quickly starting to burn the pile of rope that sat next to the wall, only making the fire accelerate.

***

"Turn left!" Jay yelled to Voight.

"Is that smoke?" Hailey asked.

Jay saw the black smoke. "That means a house is burning! Call CFD!" he yelled, his Rangers training and all the things he saw in Afghanistan paying off once again.

"This is 5021 Squad, requesting CFD-- Jay, is this close to where you were?"

Jay's face paled, realizing what Voight was insinuating. "Oh my God."

"This is 5021 Squad," Voight started again, "Requesting CFD and Rescue Squad. We have a house fire and possible victim inside in an unknown condition. Offenders assumed to be fleeing, patrol be advised."

***

Your eyelids felt heavy as you felt the flames licking the wall next to you, dangerously close.

Please let me pass out from smoke inhalation. Please let me pass out from smoke inhalation, you thought to yourself. After all, if you were going to end up being burned alive, you'd prefer to be unconscious when it occurred; it'd hurt less.

You thought that you might actually get your way for once today, two days? You didn't know how long you had been here. Your eyelids fluttered closed and you thought you were alive, but then you heard someone calling out to you.

Severide?

The first person you thought you'd hear from or see when you got to heaven, you assumed was going to be your mom, but apparently, that had changed.

"Want Mom," you mumbled, hoping she'd appear out of thin air. Because, you were in heaven and that's what angels do, right?

"Fire Department, call out!"

Why was Severide dead and why was he saying to call out? You were dead so why did you need saving?

"Fire Department, call out!" another voice yelled.

Wait, was that Cruz?

Holy shit, you weren't dead...not yet at least.

"In here," you tried to be as loud as you could, using the last energy you had, but it was just your normal talking voice. So, with all the strength you had left, you tried to clang the chains connected to your wrists and the ceiling together, hoping they'd make enough sound so that they could find you.

"Cruz, get the bolt cutters and cut these chains off her!" you heard Kelly yell. "I'll catch her and then we'll get outta here!"

The smoke hurt your eyes and you were so, so tired.

You felt yourself falling and your eyes shot open in fear. You tried to move out of the hold, but everything hurt...especially the newly added burns from Keyes which were especially tender.

"Y/N, relax. It's just me, it's Kelly."

"Kelly," you muttered, closing your eyes and slipping into an unconscious state.

"I need a medic!" Kelly yelled as he carried you out of the burning house and towards the second ambulance.

Jay was sitting in the first one, getting the cut on his stomach looked at. "Y/N!"

He moved to try and stand to get over to you, but he was pushed back down. "You can see her at the hospital," the paramedic told him. "I can't have you ripping the cut more than it is."

"Jay, she's in good hands," Hailey said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Please, just tell me she's alive." He made eye contact with Kelly who looked at Sylvie. She nodded.

"She's alive, Jay."

***

"Dr. Marcel, trauma victim is two minutes out!" Maggie yelled to Crockett who was standing at a computer, finishing some charts.

"I'll help," Will volunteered.

"Good, know anything else about the victim?"

"Kidnapping victim." Maggie paused, listening to the radio. "Will, you can't treat this patient."

"What do you mean I can't treat this patient?" he asked, taking a step closer to Maggie.

"Will, it's Y/N."

"What?"

"I don't need a wheelchair, Hailey! I can walk!" Jay yelled as he entered the ED, to be met with a shock-faced Will.

"Give it to me," Marcel said as Sylvie rolled you in on the stretcher, still unconscious.

"Y/N Halstead, 20-year-old female, kidnapping victim. Diminished breath sounds, most likely from smoke inhalation. First-degree burns on her stomach, shoulder, and collarbone, needs stitches in her right wrist and a tetanus shot. No broken bones that we could find, but it wouldn't hurt to check. Bruising on a lot of her body, but it looks superficial. Go through concussion protocol as well. There's a big bump on her head," Sylvie answered.

"Thanks, Brett."

"Trauma three!"

Will just stood, staring at you being pushed into the trauma room. Then, he flicked his eyes up at Jay. You were here because of Jay.

"She's gonna be okay, right Will?" Jay asked, walking closer to his older brother.

Will said nothing.

"Will!" Jay yelled once more.

Will's eyes darkened and he looked down at Jay. "She's here because of you!" If Jay had a shirt on, Will would've grabbed him by his collar. "You could've gotten her out of there and you didn't!"

"I tried! We tried to escape and they caught her. They took me instead of her to go back--"

"They took you back instead of her? God, did you even try to fight back, or did you just let them take her back and torture her?"

"Are kidding me right now? You don't think I tried? Look at me! I fucking tried but they chained me to a fucking wall, Will! There wasn't much I could do from there!"

"Okay, okay," Hailey said, stepping between the two men and placing her hands on Jay's chest. "Let's go get you stitched up. And, you two better work this out before Y/N wakes up. Because she will wake up."

***

Will tapped the glass of the entrance to Jay's hospital room, seeing as it was midnight and Will was working a double shift, he had grabbed some coffee to keep him awake. And, knowing Jay, he knew that he wouldn't sleep at a time like this, so he grabbed him a coffee, too.

Hailey had gotten up to go to the bathroom before Will had gotten there, leaving Jay alone. Jay looked up to see who was knocking and nodded his head, allowing his older brother to enter.

"I'm sorry for what I said earlier," Will apologized, handing Jay his coffee. "I know you tried your hardest, it's just, I'm used to seeing you come here in an ambulance, but seeing Y/N? That hits different. It's like everything I learned in med school flew out the window the minute Brett brought her through the ED doors."

"If only we didn't try to escape, then she could've gone when Keyes' people went to do the deal and she wouldn't be in this mess," Jay sighed, taking a sip of his coffee, being careful not to move his left arm too much.

"How's the shoulder?" Will asked.

"I didn't break it. Just hurts a lot. They said if I would've hit it a few more times I would've broken it though."

Will nodded, wanting to ask Jay how the hell you got yourself into this mess. But, he didn't want Jay to shut him down.

"Out with it," Jay prompted. "I know that look. It's when you want to say something, but won't."

Will raked a hand through his hair, tugging on the roots. "How did she even get in this mess to begin with?"

"We were just going to get lunch, that's all we were doing." Jay's voice grew quieter, as he realized that this entire thing was wholly on him and no one else. "I got pulled over and it was- it was Keyes. Must've stolen a patrol car. I- I told her to get down and call 911, but they heard her on the phone. They heard her on the phone and grabbed her, Will. I tried to fight back, but then I was drugged and..." He stopped and looked down. Then, he set his coffee on the table and put his face in his hands as his body began to shake with sobs.

Will stood up and put his hand on Jay's good shoulder, rubbing back and forth. "When I woke up, I was tied to- to a pipe and I heard- I heard her screaming for me."

"Hey, hey, it's okay. She's safe now. She's safe."

And, then Will's pager went off, alerting him that he had an incoming victim of a car crash. "I gotta go, little brother, but Hailey's back." He gave Jay's shoulder one last squeeze and slipped out of the room.

"Jay, I know what you're doing," Hailey said, dragging a chair across the small room to be closer to him. "None of this is your fault."

"But it is, Hailey! If I didn't have the brilliant idea to try and get her to go through that air vent and escape, she wouldn't be here right now."

"You were doing what you thought would get her out of harm's way. You did what you were supposed to do. It just...didn't work out quite right this time."

"Obviously. God, if they would've just taken me instead..."

"Hey, hey. Jay, look at me," Hailey said sternly, grabbing his face in her hands when he looked up at her. "She is safe now and I know for a fact that when Y/N wakes up, she's gonna need you. She can't have you spiraling. She's gonna need all the help, support, and love she can get."

"But what if she hates me?" Jay whispered. "I'm the reason she's in all that pain."

"She could never hate you, not now, not ever. And, Keyes is the reason she's in all that pain. Not you, most definitely not you."

***

You woke up to the steady hum of machines and you felt something in your arm.

Keyes was going to drug you just like he did to Jay. And the machines were so that he could electrocute you.

"Please wake up," you heard Jay mutter.

If he was here, that means the deal didn't go down as planned and Jay probably had more injuries. You couldn't open your eyes, for fear of what condition your big brother would be in because of you. If only you had gotten over that fence...

They didn't know you were awake yet, so you fumbled with the needle in your arm, hoping to pull it out to stop any more drugs from invading your system.

You jumped back as you felt someone's hand on your arm, keeping the needle in and your eyes shot open, to be met with just Jay.

You moved away from him, knowing that if he was back, Keyes would follow.

"I need some help in here!" Jay yelled as you reached once more for the needle in your arm.

"Y/N, we need you to calm down!" Maggie told you as she ran in, grabbing your hand to pull it off the arm where the IV was. "You're in the hospital, at Chicago Med. Will's here, but he's with a patient."

That was when you finally took in your surroundings. The hum of the machines were the monitors, and whatever was going into your body were drugs, but they were to get you better.

Your heart rate steadily slowed, until it was back to its normal rhythm. "There you go," Maggie said as she handed you a cup of water which you gladly drank. "I'll get Will and Dr. Marcel."

"Thanks, Maggie," Jay said, finally sitting down again. You ran the fingers of your left hand over the stitches on your right wrist and started poking at them. "Uh, no," Jay told you as he saw what you were doing. You looked up at him. "I know it's your first time getting stitches, but I can promise you, as someone who has gotten over 100, they aren't as interesting as they seem."

Luckily, Jay was saved from telling you to stop messing with stuff when Will and Crockett entered.

"Y/N, you're okay, kid," Will said as he gave you a small hug, careful of your injuries. You just looked at him and nodded.

"Now, Miss Halstead," Marcel began, "how are you feeling?" You didn't say anything, just kept staring. "Does anything hurt?" Again, he received no response.

Will and Marcel shared a looked, they knew what this could be. And, that didn't go unnoticed by Jay. "What? What's going on?"

"She could have sustained other neurological injuries besides her concussion, as it seems like she can't hear us," Marcel answered.

"You're saying our sister's deaf?" Jay asked, horrified.

"That's not what I'm saying, but it is a possibility. I just need to do a quick neuro exam to be sure."

He reached into his pocket, causing you to flinch and move back on the bed, your heart rate rising as you remembered Keyes reaching into his pocket to grab the lighter. This did not go unnoticed by the three men in the room.

"Jay, hand me that whiteboard and marker behind you, would you?" Will asked.

Jay handed it to him. "What are you doing?"

"Writing down what Dr. Marcel's doing so that Y/N knows. Because, if she did lose her hearing, she has no idea what he's grabbing right now."

"Oh," was all Jay said. If his sister went deaf all because of him, he wouldn't be able to forgive himself.

Marcel's grabbing a flashlight, you read. And then he's gonna shine it in your eyes and you have to follow it w/o moving your head.

You nodded, understanding what he was doing, even though you could hear the whole conversation.

You completed the exam and everything seemed neurologically intact. The two doctors shared a look. "Jay, come with us," Will said.

"I'll be right back," Jay told you. He thought about squeezing your hand but thought it might be too early for him to do that without warning. When you squeezed Marcel's hand during the neuro exam, that didn't freak you out because Will had written it on the whiteboard, telling you what was about to happen.

"What's going on? She did everything right in there," Jay asked once they were out of the room.

"Everything is neurologically intact," Marcel answered.

"But..."

"But, she's traumatized, to say the least."

"So you're telling me that our sister won't talk because she's been through trauma?" Jay asked, quieter this time.

"Short answer, yes."

"Why?"

"There's a multitude of reasons. She might not feel safe and comfortable yet. Your captor might have told her if she talked, that he'd hurt her."

"He never said that to her," Jay said. "Not when I was there anyway." Then, he turned to his brother. "She's gonna talk, right? She won't be like this forever?"

"It's all up to Y/N, now," Will answered. "She'll talk when she feels like talking."

"Care to give me a timeline on that?"

"Could be hours, days, months. I've heard stories in my psych rotation of it taking years."

"So what do we do?"

"You just be there for her," Marcel answered Jay's question. "Both of you."

***

2 days since kidnapping

You were finally headed home after being stuck in the hospital, not that it really mattered to you anyway. The only difference was that you would get to sleep in your own bed and look at the pile of homework on your desk that should be getting done, but not doing it.

Jay unlocked the front door and you walked inside, glad to be home. "I'm gonna make us some breakfast. Anything specific you want?" Jay asked. You just shrugged. "Okay, breakfast burritos it is then."

You headed into the bathroom to shower while Jay was making breakfast. You hadn't looked at yourself in the mirror since you had been kidnapped, and quite frankly, you had no desire to. You had seen the number Keyes had done on your stomach, arms, and thighs, and you didn't want to see what he did to your face. If it looked as bad as it felt though, it'd give a toddler nightmares.

You stood in the shower, using mostly cold water, so your burns didn't hurt too badly. You used a washcloth in place of a loofa to avoid opening any stitches, cuts, or burns. And, you had switched out your face wash with Jay's since his didn't have scrubbing beads in it, so they didn't irritate the bruises on your face.

You showered and changed into your comfiest pajamas (careful to have your back to the mirror while changing so you didn't so much as peek at yourself), and wrapped yourself in your favorite blanket. You grabbed gauze, bandages, and the cream you were supposed to put on your burns to have Jay help you re-wrap your burn on your left arm. Then, you walked back into the kitchen, to see Jay wrapping up your burrito.

"Not only are we eating burritos, but you're one, too," Jay joked, referring to you being wrapped in a blanket, as he set the plate of food down in front of you.

You shrugged and nodded. You set the supplies on the table and then held your arm out to him. He moved a chair closer to you and spread the cream on the burn, put the bandages on top, and then wrapped it in the gauze. "Not too tight, is it?"

You shook your head no and then started to nibble on your burrito.

By the time you were only halfway done, Jay had eaten two burritos and put his plate in the dishwasher. "You're not getting up from the table until you finish that," Jay stated, turning to you.

You scowled at him, but he just smiled back. "I'll even watch Survivor with you while you eat. And we can watch as many episodes as you want...but if you don't finish that, we're only watching one episode. Sound good?"

You looked at him and nodded, and he went off to his bedroom to grab his laptop.

The episode started to play and you knew which one it was immediately: the three amigos episode where your favorite castaway was at the bottom with his two alliance members and they all played immunity idols to avoid going home that night. You looked at Jay and nodded, telling him that he made a good choice.

You slowly but surely finished your burrito, not before heating it back up in the microwave during the ad breaks, just before the end of the episode. "You know what episode comes next, right?" Jay asked as if you had no idea. "The one where Malcolm gets voted off."

That was your favorite player in Survivor that season, but seeing as you had seen that episode before, you knew it was coming. So, you just shrugged and moved to the couch to continue your binge-watching.

***

Jay slowly closed his laptop, trying to make as little noise as possible so he didn't wake you. The two of you had broken for meals and to go to the bathroom, but other than that, you had watched Survivor all day. Typically, Jay hated sitting around all day and doing nothing, since that meant he was being unproductive, something he had learned from his years in the military. But, seeing how distracted you looked when watching the show even though you knew what was going to happen, he knew he couldn't just leave you after everything that had happened.

You had fallen asleep halfway through the episode, so Jay finished it by himself, but was sure to jot down the time in case you wanted to finish watching it tomorrow. He turned on the lamp on the small table next to you and put a glass of water next to you in case you woke up in the middle of the night.

Typically, he'd sleep with a fan on, something that you now did as well, but tonight, tonight that was not going to happen. He knew he had to have as little background noise as possible in case you woke up screaming or gasping in the middle of the night.

***

You were chained to the ceiling once again. And, just like last time, your feet didn't touch the ground so you just hung there, practically limp. But, unlike last time, Derek Keyes was nowhere in sight.

You strained your ears to try and hear anything that would alert you that he was coming but you heard nothing, absolutely nothing except the clink of the chains when you moved.

That was until you heard yelling, Jay yelling to be precise.

"I said you for the drugs and this," There was a pause, you assumed so that Keyes could show whatever the hell it was to your brother. "this is not drugs!"

You heard Jay yell and then you heard a sound, like someone dragging a sack of potatoes across the floor. And, it was getting louder.

The door opened, revealing Keyes dragging Jay inside the room, followed closely by an associate of his. You tried to swing back.

"Get her down," Keyes commanded. "And then tie her up with that rope over there. Make sure her hands are tied in front of her though and leave a line of rope dragging on the floor."

"Don't touch her!" Jay spat with all the energy he had left.

Keyes punched Jay in the face. "Shut the fuck up!"

Jay spat out blood and made eye contact with you. I'm sorry he mouthed. You sucked in a breath, knowing that this would not be good for either of you if Jay was apologizing before anything even happened.

You were roughly taken down from the chains and tied up in the corner now. You could probably try and walk around, try and make a run for it even, but your hands were tied in front of you and that door would be too heavy for you to push open without them tied up. You needed a code, too. So, there was no escaping.

"Now, you're taking her place and you just get to watch," Keyes said as he chained Jay up to the ceiling.

"Do whatever you want to me! Just leave her alone!"

Keyes punched Jay in the stomach. "What did I say? Shut up!"

Keyes then walked over to you, pulling a lighter from his pocket. You tugged on the rope as hard as you could, moving your entire upper body to try and get loose, but it was no use.

"Now, I'm going to light the end of this and it's going to slowly travel up the rope and to your hands. Maybe I'll put the fire out when it just gets your hands, maybe I'll let you die a slow and painful death by fire. You'll just have to wait and see."

"Keyes you can do whatever you want with me! Just don't touch her!" Jay yelled, pulling on the chains and trying to move closer to you.

Keyes flicked open the lighter.

"Please no," you whimpered. He crouched down at the end of the rope, the flame dancing dangerously close to it.

Then, you heard a crash. Did Jay somehow pull off the unthinkable and break out of his chains?

"Y/N, Y/N wake up."

Wake up? What did that mean? You were awake. If you weren't you wouldn't feel the rope digging into your wrists--

You jolted awake as you felt someone gently touch your shoulder.

"Y/N, it's Jay. You're at home on the couch. You're safe." At this, you went to sit up but were stopped when you felt a wetness on your right wrist as if it had been sitting in water.

You turned and looked at your hand. It was covered in blood. Then, you looked at the floor and saw the broken water glass that Jay must've left out for you.

"I'm gonna throw a few towels on the floor and then we're gonna get you cleaned up, okay? Looks to me like you threw out a few stitches."

He left to go grab a few towels and then came back--this time with shoes on--and laid them on the floor. "Do you mind if I quick pick you up just to get you into the hallway? Wouldn't want you to get glass in your foot and have to get more stitches." You hesitated, but nodded, allowing Jay to carry you to the hallway, your blanket still wrapped around your shoulders, where he then set you back down and you followed him to the bathroom.

Jay flicked on the light and pulled out the first kit, while you pushed yourself up onto the counter using your good wrist.

"I need you to rinse it out," Jay said as he reached over and turned on the faucet. "That way, if it's really bad, I can tell and call Will to come over here. But, maybe we'll get lucky and we can just wrap it up for right now and get it restitched in the morning."

You placed your wrist under the running water, thankful that Jay had tested the temperature to make sure that it was not too hot and not too cold. After a few seconds, you took it back out and allowed Jay to gently pat it dry with a towel. Then, he looked at it and came up with his verdict.

"I think I know what happened," Jay started.

You furrowed your eyebrows. You didn't even know how this happened, so how did he know?

"I think you kept rubbing your wrist back and forth on that jagged edge of the table because there's a splinter in here." You jerked your arm away from him, hiding your hand back under the safety of your blanket. Ain't no way in hell he was digging into your open wound with a pair of tweezers, no way in hell.

"Relax, I'm not gonna take it out. I'm gonna call Will and he's gonna take it out and stitch you back up." You shook your head, no. No way were you even allowing your doctor brother to take a pair of tweezers into your open skin. "He'll numb it and everything, don't worry," Jay reassured you, pulling out his phone.

"Will! It's not Lanik calling to cover your shift, it's me." you listened to Jay's side of the conversation. "Y/N threw out some stitches and now there's a splinter in there, so I need you to come over and fix it." There was a pause. "Believe me, if I thought it could wait a few more hours, you wouldn't be getting this call." Another pause. "Yeah, you can just stay over here. No, just a blanket." Another pause, this time longer. "Yeah, I'll try and do that. See you soon."

He set his phone on the counter and turned back to you. "Okay, so here's the deal and I know you're not gonna like it." You raised an eyebrow at him, urging him to continue. "Will said that that needs to be wrapped in a clean towel." You pulled your wrist tighter against the fabric of your blanket. "And that is not going to cut it."

You shook your head, no. Your blanket was warm and it made you feel safe and secure when it was wrapped tightly around you. "Y/N, it's got blood on it." He paused, trying to figure out how he could do this. "Tell you what, if you let me wrap your wrist in a clean towel, I'll let you use my weighted blanket while yours is in the wash. Deal?"

Jay offering you his weighted blanket? What kind of fever dream was this?

Will had gotten that blanket for Jay when he got home from Afghanistan for the second time to help ease his nightmares. He kept it in his closet most nights now, but you did see him using it after some particularly rough cases. One of those times being when he had been kidnapped by Keyes the first time.

You nodded, telling him that you had a deal, and out your arm. He pulled a clean hand towel out of the closet and the medical tape from the first aid kit. Then, he wrapped up your wrist, not without you wincing, and taped it.

"Now, do you want to go to your room or the living room to wait for Will?" You pointed to yourself. "Your room it is then. Can I take that blanket? I promise I'll be back with the weighted one in three minutes tops," he promised.

Reluctantly you handed over the blanket, which blood had soaked through in a small spot, and then made your way into your room.

True to his word, Jay came back in holding his gray weighted blanket. He placed it over your shoulders, seeing as you were currently staring off into space, your mind wandering back to the nightmare that caused all of this.

What if Intelligence hadn't gotten Keyes the drugs? Was that what would've happened?

"Y/N," you were pulled out of your thoughts by Jay softly saying your name. You looked up at him. "Whatever you dreamt out there--because I know you were dreaming since I had to wake you up--it isn't real. Keyes is locked up and he won't ever be getting out." He didn't know that for sure, he just knew they had him and his associates in county at the moment, awaiting sentencing. But, he'd say anything to ease your fears.

You nodded half-heartedly at him and he looked at your desk, textbooks still open to where that had been before the kidnapping. "If you want to take a semester off, that's fine. If you want to go back or see if you can finish the semester online, that's fine, too."

You shrugged. In all honesty, you had no idea what you wanted to do. You knew you wanted to finish the semester because you didn't want all of your tuition money to go to waste, you just didn't know how you'd do it, if you even could do it.

"You don't have to make a decision now or even in a week, just keep it in mind." Jay grabbed your laptop off your desk and set it on your bed. "Mind if I sit next to you?"

You moved over, allowing him to sit on your bed and he opened the laptop and passed it to you, silently telling you to put in your password. You did so and handed it back to him. "Figured we could finish the episode you fell asleep watching."

Just as the episode had finished loading, you heard a door open and you pushed yourself back further into the bed. You could jump off and hide in the closet if you needed to. You didn't think you could fit under your bed anymore, but it was worth a try if--

"Jay! It's Will! Where are you two?"

You visibly relaxed as you heard his voice. Jay placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Breathe, it's just Will. It's just Will." He gave you a second to take a deep breath and exhale. "Good. Now, I'm gonna go get him and you're gonna go in the bathroom. We'll meet you there. Is that okay with you?" You nodded. "Good."

You made your way into the bathroom and sat on the counter again, your--well actually Jay's--blanket, still wrapped around you.

"Hey," Jay greeted Will as he stood in the living room, holding his medical bag, a backpack which Jay assumed held clothes since he was going to just spend the rest of the night here, a small whiteboard, and a pack of dry-erase markers. "What are the whiteboard and markers for?" Jay asked, taking Will's medical bag from him.

"Figured if Y/N was up to it, she could write on the board so we know what she's saying."

"Good idea."

"That's why I'm the doctor and you're the cop."

"Shut up. Y/N's in the bathroom waiting for you."

Will and Jay entered the bathroom to be met with you sitting on the floor sobbing. "Whoa, whoa," Jay exclaimed, crouching down next to you. "What happened?"

You shook your head, not wanting to tell your brothers. "It's okay," Will started, crouching down on the other side of you. He handed you the whiteboard and a purple marker, your favorite color.

You stared at it, wondering if you could do it. So, you just scribbled NO.

"Wanna tell us why?" Jay prompted.

You'll laugh at me.

"No we won't. We promise," Will reassured you.

You squeezed your eyes closed, letting more tears fall before you finally decided to tell them. I looked in the mirror for the first time since

You didn't finish writing the sentence, only set the whiteboard down and waited for them to read it.

Neither of them knew how to respond, because how did they respond to their little sister seeing her face covered in faded bruises for the first time? Jay wanted to say that it would all be okay, that he knew how you were feeling because of the number of times he had looked in the mirror and saw bruises on his face and body, whether in the rangers or from being a cop, but he knew it was different. It was different because being a girl came with more insecurities, one of them being your skin. And, even though you didn't wear makeup, this was different than not wearing makeup. You chose to not wear makeup. You didn't choose to have this happen to you.

So, Jay just wrapped one arm around you protectively and Will squeezed your good hand, both reminding you that they were there, even though they had no idea what to say at the moment. And, that was all you needed: comfort from family while you cried out all that you had been holding in.

After staying in that position for about ten minutes, you were finally calm enough to push yourself up onto the counter and let Will do his job. He unzipped his medical bag and pulled out a syringe and a bottle, of what you assumed to be the liquid that would numb the affected area.

"Hey, turn away now because I'm getting the needle out," Will told you. He turned to Jay. "You might want to, too."

You weren't afraid of needles per say, you just didn't like to see how big they were before you got the injection. It always helped to look away when you were getting an injection and to not look at it while the nurse or doctor was prepping.

Surprisingly, Jay was fine. Usually, his hands get all clammy and his face gets a bit pale. You just chalked it up to him not being the one being stuck with the needle this time. "I'm not gonna lie to you, Y/N," Will started, "This is gonna hurt since it's going into an open wound."

"Man, why would you tell her that?" Jay exclaimed as he unwrapped the towel from your wrist.

"Thought she might need to be prepared. Now, I'm just gonna wipe it down with some disinfectant and then give you the local anesthetic, and then I can get the sutures in."

Jay held out his hand for you, silently telling you to squeeze it. Will wiped it down and that didn't feel so bad.

"Hey, hey, look at me," Jay coaxed as he watched Will pick up the syringe. "Squeeze my hand as hard as possible. You won't hurt me, I promise."

Then, you felt the pain of the needle in your skin as you squeezed your eyes shut, gritted your teeth, and squeezed the ever-loving life out of Jay's hand. But, after five seconds, the needle was out and after a minute, you couldn't feel your wrist.

You let go of Jay's hand and Will pulled out a pair of tweezers to remove the splinter. After that, he disinfected the area once more and put in new stitches.

"Good as new," he told you.

Thanks, you wrote on the whiteboard.

"No problem, kid." You stifled a yawn. "Go get some sleep. We'll still be here in the morning. Promise."

You rewrapped the weighted blanket around yourself and looked at Jay, silently asking if you could keep it for the night. "I guess you can keep it just for tonight," he relented as your blanket had just finished in the washing machine and still needed to be dried. "Besides, if I need anything, I've got this knucklehead here to keep me company."

"Who you calling knucklehead, knucklehead?"

You rolled your eyes at their immaturity and walked to your room to go to sleep. But, instead of turning off the lights all the way like you normally did, you dimmed them. You knew you would be using that dimmer for awhile.

***

Will walked into your room the next morning--well, closer to afternoon actually--to see you still wrapped in Jay's weighted blanket, laying on top of your other bed sheets and comforter. The lights were still on and he was shocked that Jay didn't turn them off when he woke up this morning and it started to get light out.

"Y/N. Y/N, wake up." He gently touched your blanket-covered shoulder, making you flutter your eyes open ad look at him. "Morning, sleepyhead. Your head hurt? Any nausea?"

He waited for a beat to see if you would speak and when you didn't, he handed you the whiteboard and the marker.

No, why?

"Because it's 11 o'clock and you don't normally sleep this late and you have a concussion, so I'm worried about post-concussion symptoms."

I'm fine.

"Okay, well I'm gonna go make some food, give you some time to wake up."

You picked up your phone and saw a text from Jay telling you that your blanket should be dry and that he was at the district and would be home later.

You went into the kitchen and were about to go get your blanket from the dryer when you heard the flickering sound of a burner being turned on. Your eyes landed on the flame and you slowly walked backward, afraid that it would somehow burn you even though it was twenty feet away.

You winced as you backed into the table, hitting your low back. Immediately, Will turned off the burner and turned around. "Y/N? You okay?" You stood still and stared at the stove. "Hey, that noise was just the burner turning on. It wasn't anything else, I promise."

You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded. Then, you dropped the blanket and made your way to the bathroom to go take a shower.

"If you're showering, be careful with your stitches!" Will yelled to you. "And, I'll help you re-wrap your burns after, too if you need."

You undressed and gently unwrapped the bandages from your burns.

Keyes did this to you.

Keyes' lighter did this to you.

Fire did this to you.

***

"Hey, man, good to have you back," Adam greeted Jay as he walked into the bullpen.

"Thanks," he replied, taking a seat on the edge of Hailey's desk.

"How are you doing?" Hailey asked. "You look tired."

"I mean, I've been better, obviously," Jay answered, rubbing a hand on his face. "Y/N popped some stitches last night when she had a nightmare, so we had to call Will and deal with that in the middle of the night."

"Halstead, here to make your statement?" Voight asked as he emerged from his office.

"Yeah, you wanna just do it out here? Because I know all of you want to know what happened and it'll save me a lot of talking if I only have to say it once."

"If that's what you wanna do, then we can do that."

Voight grabbed a notepad and a pen. "Start from the beginning."

"We were just going to grab lunch, that's all..."

Once he was done giving his statement, Jay was drained needless to say. He was in the locker room and God, all he could think of were your pleas for help when you were both held captive. He was sitting against the lockers, head in his hands, quiet sobs leaving his lips.

"Jay," Hailey alerted as she walked into the locker room. She slid down the lockers next to him. "Jay, hey, it's okay."

"It's not okay, Hailey!" He yelled. He took a deep breath. "Sorry, it's just, she hasn't said a goddamn word since she was rescued from that house."

Hailey wrapped her arm around Jay, allowing him to lay his head on her chest. "And you're keeping all your emotions in to stay strong for her so she doesn't break any more than she already is, aren't you?"

"How did you know that?" he whispered.

"Because I know you, Jay. You always look out for others but sometimes you forget to look out for yourself. Just remember that I'm here if you need me."

"Thank you."

Hailey ran a comforting hand through his hair. "What if she- what if she doesn't forgive me?"

"She knows it's not your fault. You did everything you could. Hell, you even tried to get her to escape all while knowing it would be worse for you when Keyes came back. You did a good thing, Jay."

"She looked at herself in the mirror for the first time last night," Jay stated.

"What?" Hailey asked, confused.

"She hadn't looked in the mirror since before all this went down. Me and Will walked into the bathroom and she was sobbing. I didn't even know what to say to that. What do I do if she doesn't talk again, Hailey? I didn't know what to say when she broke down last night. If I can't do that, how am I going to handle the rest of this?"

"You just have to remember one thing. Y/N's still in there. It might take a little digging, but underneath all the dirt that Keyes buried her in, she's still there, just underneath it. You and Will just need to dig her out, one shovel-full at a time. And, I'm sure all of us will help with some of that digging."

"Thank you," Jay choked out.

How did I get so lucky? he thought to himself.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, Hailey still running a hand through Jay's hair and giving him the comfort he so desperately needed.

"I better get going," Jay whispered.

"I understand."

Jay stood up first and held out his hand to help Hailey up. He splashed some water in his face and dried it, trying to get rid of the tear stains and Hailey took something out of her locker.

"What's this?" he asked, taking the book, Corrupt, and a bag of pumpkin spice coffee from her.

"I saw the book on Y/N's to-read list on Goodreads and figured she could use the distraction. And, I remember her complaining one day about running out of pumpkin spice coffee."

"Where'd you find it? She looked everywhere for it and she couldn't find it because it's out of season."

"Never underestimate the power of Amazon," Hailey smiled.

"You're the best, Hails, really."

"So I've been told."

Jay rolled his eyes at that comment and the two parted ways, but not before Jay gave her a quick kiss on the cheek when no one was watching.

***

"How's she doing?" Jay whispered to Will as he entered the house.

Will motioned for Jay to follow him since you were sitting on the couch watching tv.

"I turned on the stove and she freaked, man," Will told his brother as soon as they were in Jay's room safely out of earshot of you. "She just like backed into the table and then she went and took a shower and everything was normal after that."

"Still no talking?"

"Not a word."

"Damn."

"She'll come around. She's a Halstead, our stubborn asses don't go down without a fight."

"You're right about that."

"I'm always right, little brother. We just have to wait."

"I don't think I have to tell you that Halsteads don't have a patient bone in their bodies. And, you are not always right. If I recall correctly, you violated a DNR your first year at Med, which was wrong."

"Okay, so I've been wrong sometimes, but I'm right most of the time."

"Shut up. Now get out so I can change."

You were continuing your Survivor binge when you felt the couch dip next to you. You looked up to see Jay. I didn't even know you were home, you scribbled on your whiteboard.

"Just got home about ten minutes ago. I tried to be quiet in case you were sleeping. Hailey got these for you."

He handed you a book and a bag of coffee. How'd she know?

"Mentioned something about you complaining about being out of that coffee and she looked on that one website you use for your books."

Goodreads?

"Yeah, that."

You better keep her. I approve.

"Shut up," Jay joked. "And you better erase that before Will sees."

You erased it just before Will returned, this time carrying a bowl of popcorn. He sat down on the other side of you. "Now, what episode are we on?"

And, you picked up the remote started the next episode.

***

4 weeks since kidnapping

"Coffee, kid?" Jay asked as you sat at the table eating a bagel. You had been up for two hours already and it was only seven am. You nodded at him and he pulled out another mug from the cupboard. "How long have been up? You're looking a little tired."

2 hours you wrote on the whiteboard.

Even though it's been a month and the bruises had disappeared, the burns had turned into scars, and the stitches had been removed, one thing hadn't healed: your will to talk. Everyone around you had been waiting for you to utter a single word, but it hadn't come yet. They'd gotten used to you writing in dry erase marker to communicate.

You had resumed all of your classes online so that you didn't have to go to class. At first, some professors were skeptical that you'd be able to pass the class because of how much time you missed, but when you, Will, and Jay showed up to your university's administrators and your academic advisor to explain the situation accompanied by Voight, they relented. It helped to have the most infamous cop in Chicago on your side.

You put your head in your hands. "Hey, hey." Jay placed a hand on your shoulder and bent down so his eyes were level with yours. You lifed your head. "Everything's gonna be okay. We're gonna get through today and the next and the next. We've made it this far. We've got no choice but to continue," he told you, the last two quotes being something that Mouse had told him when they had both returned from Afghanistan as shells of the men they had previously been.

"And before you question me, I know this because you're coming to the district with me today. And, no, it's not up for discussion."

Okay, but I'm driving myself, you wrote, not in the mood to argue right now.

"Listen, as long as you go, I could care less how you get there."

***

"Morning mini Halstead," Adam said as you entered the district.

"Damn, Ruz. Not running late for once? I'm shocked," Jay joked.

"I'll have you know that I am very punctual."

"Wow, using big boy words," Jay quipped as he punched in the code and then placed his hand on the palm scanner.

"Morning, Jay," Hailey said, giving Jay a kiss once he was settled at his desk.

"Morning, Hails."

Adam made a gagging sound and you smacked him on the chest. Shut up, they're cute, you wrote on your whiteboard.

"Yeah, Adam! Shut up, we're cute!" Jay yelled.

Yes, now everyone knew that Hailey and Jay were a couple. Yes, they had filled out the proper HR forms. No, neither had been fired. Yes, they were still partners. And, no, Will still hadn't given you your fifty bucks. Yes, he had probably forgotten all about the bet you two had made.

"Alright, everyone listen up!" Voight yelled as he came out of his office. "Seeing as everyone wanted to run out early last weekend, you know what day it is. Everyone's favorite: paperwork."

The unit groaned and you just scribbled on your whiteboard. Haha, you have to do big kid homework.

"Yeah, yeah, it's hilarious," Jay replied. "Now, if I'm not mistaken, you've been complaining about a test."

You rolled your eyes and walked into the breakroom, leaving the door open in case they started messing around and you wanted a break.

***

It was nearing eleven when you heard an unfamiliar voice in the bullpen. "Taser recertification day everyone. To testify in court, you need to be tased at least once every year to know the effects."

Taser. Keyes. Pain. Burns. Terrifying. No, Y/N, you can't think that. He's locked up 23 and one. Now, focus on your damn homework.

Which amendments are also known as the Reconstruction amendments?

Buzz

13th, 14th, and 15th amendments.

You heard Kevin grunt. "Bigger they are, the harder they fall."

What are the three clauses in the 13th amendment?

"Who's next?"

"Fine, I'll do it. Not like this hasn't happened before. Just, please do my shoulder. Lord knows I've taken more hits to my pecs and abdomen than I can count."

Yelling and groans of pain...from none other than your brother.

Keyes. Keyes had found you guys and he wanted to finish what he started. Somehow he had gotten in here and stolen the taser and now he had Jay. It was just a matter of time before he found you, too.

There weren't any perfect hiding places in here, but if you moved the couch you might be able to crouch behind it and call for help before he found you. You could call Kelly or Will and tell them to call another precinct to get over here and fix it. Because, if Keyes had gotten in here and gotten his hands on a taser, then the cops in the 21st district precinct obviously couldn't do their jobs.

You got off your chair, staying close to the ground to make it harder for Keyes to spot you. You pulled, moving half of the couch away from the wall.

"What was that?"

Shit, he found you.

You could fit behind there, right? Yeah, yeah you could fit behind there.

"Who moved the couch?"

You hugged your knees to your chest, hearing footsteps coming closer and closer to you, and squeezed your eyes shut.

Someone touched your arm and you uncurled yourself and started kicking. You heard someone moan in pain as you felt your boot-clad foot make contact with someone else. You hoped it was Keyes.

"Stop fighting! Stop fighting!" You felt another person coming closer and closer to you and you swung your arm out, palm making contact with what you assumed to be someone's cheek.

"Y/N! Y/N! It's me, Jay! The person you just slapped is Jay. And the person you kicked is Adam. You're in the district, you're safe."

You opened your eyes and slowly blinked a few times. You saw Jay in front of you holding his hands up in surrender, a red mark on his left cheek. Adam was rubbing his shin and Voight, Hailey, Kevin, and Kim were all standing in the doorway with looks of worry spread across their faces.

Tears began to roll down your cheeks. You couldn't believe you just did that.

Jay nodded to everyone and they left the room, Adam closing the door behind him. You looked down; you couldn't even bear to look at Jay.

"You're okay," he whispered. "Do you know where you are?" You nodded. "Good, that's good. That's really good."

You hugged your knees to your chest once more and frantically shook your head back and forth.

"I know you don't think it's okay, Y/N. But, I forgive you. I know it wasn't you who was doing that. Hell, I know better than anyone else in this unit. I know you're showing PTSD symptoms and that's fine. We just gotta take it day by day."

You finally looked up at him. Your lips began to tremble and your body shook with sobs. It had been a month! This should be over by now! You should be back to normal by now! Why the fuck couldn't you just get over it?

"I know it's hard, I know," Jay whispered. "Can I touch you?"

You nodded and he somehow squeezed himself next to you and wrapped you a hug, letting you cry it all out once more.

Ten minutes had passed and you were sure you had run out of tears when Jay said, "Let's go grab some Oreos from the vending machine downstairs, and then we can get out of here. What do you say?"

You nodded and he helped you to your feet. Then, you put everything in your backpack and walked out of the breakroom.

"You're okay little mama," Kevin said and enveloped you in a hug before you got past his desk. "You're good."

You managed to give him a small smile before you turned to Adam and pulled out your whiteboard.

I'm so sorry.

"It's not that bad, really. Beats getting kicked in the balls on a case any day."

You and Jay were walking down the stairs when you saw Voight. "Give that taser certification guy hell for me, will you?" Jay asked.

He nodded and gave you a pat on the back, Voight's version of a hug.

***

6 weeks since kidnapping

Jay put the finishing touches on your cupcake, complete with chocolate frosting and sprinkles, before sticking the candle in the top. Today was your 21st birthday. He had already made the mimosa you said you wanted to have when you woke up (you had mentioned it 3 months before and he had put it in his calendar to remind himself) and it was sitting in the fridge to keep cold. He grabbed his lighter and walked to your room.

Voight was nice enough to give him and Hailey the day off so they could spend it with you, during the day that was. You had mentioned that you wanted to go out with some friends to a bar, but that was before everything had happened six weeks ago, so he assumed it wasn't on. Nevertheless, he, Hailey, and Will were still on a mission to make this birthday memorable...even if your first drinking experience at a bar would happen at Molly's with your brothers and their friends instead of out at a bar or club with your friends.

He flicked on a lamp when he got to your room and then walked to your bedside, gently shaking your shoulder. "Y/N, wake up."

You rolled over and slowly opened your eyes and rubbed the sleep out of them. Seeing Jay with a cupcake in his hand, you gave him a close-lipped smile.

"Happy, happy birthday. Today's your special day. You just got a cupcake, now blow the flame away. Hey!" Jay sang and then pulled out an orange lighter and flicked it open.

Your eyes grew wide as the flame danced from the lighter and onto the candlewick.

"Make a wish." He held the cupcake closer to you.

"I'll be quiet, I promise!" You scrambled backward and into the furthest corner of your bed away from Jay and the fire he was currently holding towards you.

He hadn't heard you speak in a month and a half, no one had.

Quickly, Jay blew out the candle and pocketed the lighter. Holding his hands up in surrender, he just stared at you as you began to shake in fear.

"Y/N," Jay whispered, still holding his hands to show you that the lighter wasn't in his hands. "I'm not going to hurt you."

You didn't look up. You didn't stop shaking.

He was lying. It was a ploy to get you to talk so that he could burn you longer.

He took a risk and touched your arm and you yanked it away, expecting it to burn. "I'll be quiet, I promise!" you repeated.

"Y/N, it's Jay. Do you know where you are?" He flicked on the light, hoping that would help.

No answer.

"You're in Chicago. You're at home. It's your birthday. Keyes isn't going to burn you, I promise."

At the mention of Keyes and burns, you swatted at the air, hoping that you could knock the lighter out of Keyes' hand when he didn't have it flicked open.

"Okay, noted," Jay muttered to himself. He had never seen you this bad before, not right after the attack, not after the nightmare, hell not even after the taser recertification incident. You had never shaken in fear during any of those occurrences when your triggers made a surprise appearance.

But then, he put two and two together: him being taken away from you, you never being burned when he was there and then having burns when they rescued you, jumping when anyone turned on the stove, and now freaking out when he pulled out a lighter and lit a candle for you on your birthday, you not talking and promising to be quiet after he pulled out a lighter and moved the cupcake towards you. It all made sense now.

"Hey, I'll be right back, okay?" he told you, even though he knew you weren't able to hear him.

Jay made his way to his room and pulled out his gray weighted blanket. Then, he walked back into your room. You were only in your bra and underwear when you were with Keyes, so maybe having something else covering your body, despite the fact that you were currently fully clothed right now, would help.

Something soft and heavy landed on your legs. It didn't feel like Keyes was on top of you. It felt more comforting, calming, warm like you had more clothes on. Maybe Jay had somehow gotten his shirt back and had given it to you to keep you warm in this basement.

Wait, where did that lamp come from? There was only one lightbulb in here the last time you checked. And, why did it feel like you were sitting on something comfortable like a couch or a bed instead of on a cold, hard concrete floor?

Why was Jay standing up and not chained or tied to the wall? How did his face heal from the bruising so fast? Why was he wearing his pajamas?

Wait a minute, was that Jay's weighted blanket in your lap? And, was that your desk in the corner?

Jay noticed you looking around the room. "Do you know where you are now?" You nodded. "You know you're safe and in your room, right?" You nodded again, then took a deep breath and stretched out your legs, and moved forward, removing yourself from the corner and moving closer to Jay. "Do you still want your cupcake?"

You nodded and he handed it to you. "Are you okay going to see Dr. Charles today? I know you already had an appointment this week, but I think it might be good if you saw him again after what just happened." You nodded, agreeing with him. "You mind if Hailey comes over and stays with you? I gotta get ready and take care of something."

You gave him a thumbs up and he went to call Hailey while you sat in bed and tried to forget about the episode you just had by enjoying your cupcake.

***

"Halstead, what are you doing here?" Casey asked as Jay entered the firehouse after Hailey came over to stay with you.

"Oh thank God you guys are on shift. Severide here?" Jay asked.

"Yeah, in his office. Anything going on that I should know about?"

"Not really, I think I know why Y/N doesn't like fire though and I need the evidence pictures from the arson from when we were kidnapped to make sure I got it all straight."

Jay knocked on the door to Kelly's office and he looked up and waved him in.

"Jay, what are you doing here? Isn't it Y/N's birthday?" he asked, turning his chair around so he was now facing Jay instead of his desk.

"That's kinda why I'm here. She had an episode this morning when I gave her a cupcake. I tried to light the candle and then she flipped out and yelled I'll be quiet, I promise."

"She's talking?"

"All she did was repeat that sentence. The minute she saw the lighter and when the flame got close to her face, she freaked. So, I know this going to sound crazy, but is there any chance you found a small handheld lighter when you investigated the arson?"

"Let me see..." Kelly unlocked his filing cabinet and flipped through it, looking for the evidence file Jay had requested. "Here it is."

He laid the folder on the desk and Jay leaned over. He clenched his teeth as Kelly opened the folder, seeing the basement he was held captive in once more, even if it was covered in ash.

"Wait a minute, it's barely in the frame, but there's the end of the lighter. Let me friend the file on my computer and I can zoom in on it," Kelly suggested.

The clacking of keys could be heard as Kelly found the file and opened it, quickly finding the correct picture and pressing a few keys to zoom in on it.

"Oh, God," Jay whispered.

"What? What is it?"

"That lighter, it's the same color as the one I used to light Y/N's candle this morning. No wonder she freaked out."

"But why would she keep saying she'd be quiet?"

Jay nodded, pulling up a chair and sitting next to him. His eyes widened. He hadn't seen you get burned when he was with you, but what if that's what happened to you when they did the drop?

"Any way you can print that zoomed-in image out for me? I gotta get to Med."

"I can do that."

Kelly printed the picture and handed it to Jay. "Thanks, man. I'll get you a round at Molly's." Then, he quickly left and sped off to med, putting the pieces together.

***

Will was just walking out a treatment room, rubbing hand sanitizer in his hands, when a very determined Jay walked through the ED doors. "April, you mind charting the next patient? Jay's here and with that look on his face, well he's not gonna leave until he gets what he wants."

"Yeah, no problem. Good luck."

"Thanks." Will rolled his eyes.

"Will! Will I need to ask you something and you can't blow me off about this or claim patient confidentiality or some other legal bullshit."

"Legal bullshit? You're the cop here buddy, I'd expect you to care about the law more."

"Whatever, just is there some place we can talk?"

"Jay, I'm working. Can't this--"

"It's about Y/N," Jay blurted, knowing that that would most definitely get his older brother's attention.

"Okay, c'mon."

Will led the way to his office and once inside closed the door. "What's going on? What's so important about Y/N that you came to talk to me during my shift, not about a case, and left Y/N home alone on her birthday?"

"One, she's not home alone. Hailey's with her. And two, it's because I think I know how she got those burns."

"Fire, Jay. She got those burns from fire."

"I know that, smart ass. I mean, I think I know exactly how she got the burns." He laid the photo down on the desk. "That, that's a lighter. Now, if I remember correctly, first-degree burns are the worst because the fire directly hit the skin. Could that lighter have been the cause of her burns?"

Will typed away on his computer, pulling up the pictures of your burns, and looked closely at them, switching his attention from the picture of your burns to the evidence picture with the lighter. "But that's impossible," Will muttered. If the fire started at the floor and went to the walls, you'd either have burns on your feet and legs and/or on the left side of your body. But, you had them on both arms, your stomach, and your collarbone. And, the fire hadn't gotten high enough to be able to burn your upper body. "Unless..."

"Unless what, Will?"

"It's impossible to get these burns just from a burning building from the trajectory of the fire and the location of the burns. But, judging by the location and the severity of her burns, these most likely were made by Keyes holding the lighter to her, for longer than a few seconds. He had to have the lighter to her collarbone and stomach the longest, just by how bad those two are."

"You're sure?"

"I'm pretty damn sure, Jay. But, the only person who can tell if us if we're actually right, is Y/N. And, I don't think she's gonna wanna talk about this."

"Can you make her an emergency appointment with Dr. Charles?" Jay asked. "And, can you make sure you're there during the appointment, too?"

"What, why?"

"She had an episode this morning when I gave her a cupcake to wake up. I went to light the candle, she saw my lighter and the flame and flipped out. Then, she said that she promises to be quiet. You don't think- you don't think she burned her for talking do you?"

Will closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. It all made sense: the not talking, the jumping when he turned on the stove, freaking out when Jay lit a candle.

"Based on what she's done, it makes sense. But, I'll consult with Dr. Charles before the appointment to tell him what's going on."

"Thanks, man. Bring those pictures to him, too."

Then, Jay left the office, thinking that between two of them and Kelly, that they had solved the mystery of why you hadn't talked in a month and a half.

***

You walked into Dr. Charles' office very confused to say the least. Hailey was waiting outside, but Jay and Will insisted on coming with you to this appointment; you just chalked it up to them being more worried about you than usual.

But, as you sat between your brothers on the long couch with Dr. Charles seated in the chair in front of you, you got a pit in your stomach. This felt more like an intervention.

"Y/N," Dr. Charles started, "Are you okay if your brothers sit in on this one? Or do you want them to leave?"

You pulled out your whiteboard. I'm just wondering why they're here with me in the first place. I know this morning was bad, but I didn't think it was that bad.

"You know, that's a very good question and I'm really glad you asked that. Jay, would you like to tell Y/N where you went earlier today?"

You turned to Jay expectantly. "I went to see Kelly and I asked him to show me the crime scene photos from Keyes' place."

At the mention of Keyes, you tensed up. Will squeezed your shoulder. "Y/N, remember those relaxation techniques I taught you?" Dr. Charles asked. You nodded. "How about you try one right now."

You closed your eyes and pictured a beach, the waves crashing against the shore, the feeling of sand between your toes. You walked closer to the water's edge and felt the coolness of the freshwater, whisking the sand from between your toes away. You felt the sun on your face and squinted your eyes against the brightness of the day.

"Better?" Dr. Charles asked as he noticed your breathing had become slower and most of the tension had left your body. You nodded. "Go to the beach again?" You nodded in confirmation again. "Good, I can tell it's a place that really relaxes you. Are you okay for Jay to continue?"

You turned to Jay, hoping that was answer enough. And it was because he continued explaining why he needed the crime scene photos. "I knew that there was a possibility that Keyes' could've been the one to burn you, but I didn't know. So, I went to Kelly to see if there was a lighter in any of the crime scene photos. There was, an orange one to be exact."

Keyes flicked the orange lighter open, playing with the flame and letting it move in between his fingers.

"Y/N, the beach, remember the beach," Dr. Charles prompted, bringing you back to the present moment after you took a few deep breaths while thinking of the fresh smell of the water and the sand.

Jay looked at you, silently asking if it was okay to continue. When you nodded, he started once more. "So, I saw that and I remembered that you'd promised to be quiet this morning. I came to Med to talk to Will, and between the two of us, well we figured out that he'd burned you, Y/N."

Your eyes filled with tears at the memories of how terrified you had been. You were so sure you were going to die that day.

"Did he play some sort of sick, twisted game with you, Y/N?" Will asked.

You looked down as your lip began to quiver. He had, you wanted to say, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. He told me that if I talked he'd hold the lighter there longer and that's why the ones on my stomach and my collarbone are the worst and the one on my thigh isn't as bad because he said I was learning the game. That was what you wanted to say at least, but you couldn't even part your lips.

Dr. Charles handed you a bottle of water and you took it from him, feeling the coolness in your hands, a reminder that fire was nowhere near you at the moment. "Y/N I think he burned you if you talked, is that it? Just nod your head yes or no, you don't have to talk or write if you don't want to. You are the one in control here. And, if you don't want to tell us if he burned you for talking or what the game was, that's fine, too."

You moved your head up and down once, confirming both of your brothers' worst fear: Keyes had burned you for talking.

Jay wanted to speed all the way to Stateville Prison and burn that son of a bitch Derek Keyes for what he did to you. But, somehow, he kept his cool and just looked at you with soft eyes and grabbed your hand.

"Y/N, I have something I want to try," Dr. Charles started, "I've already told Jay and Will about it just so that they won't freak out, but whether or not you actually want to try it, that's all up to you. We do whatever you want to do."

You looked up at Dr. Charles with glassy eyes.

"There's this therapy called in vivo exposure therapy, nicknamed flooding. What happens is, we take the patient's biggest fear, in your case that would be fire and talking, and we bring it out in the open, exposing you to your biggest fear in a safe and secure environment. The logic behind this is that the anxiety and adrenaline only last for a certain amount of time and once those drop, you realize that your fear of this was unwarranted."

What would it entail? you wrote.

"What would happen is that either Jay, Will, or I would hold an open lighter near you."

You frantically shook your head no and leaned more into Will.

"Okay, then we won't--"

"Listen, Y/N," Will started. "You are in a safe environment. We will not let anything happen to you. Ever. You gotta believe us on that. We just wanna hear you talk again. Let us help you. Let me help you. You will be safe the entire time and if you want me and Jay to sit on either side of you, like we're doing now, while Dr. Charles holds the lighter, we can do that. Isn't that right, Jay?"

"He's absolutely right, kid. We'll be right here the entire time."

You grabbed your whiteboard and took a deep breath. And you promise this will work? You promise there will be a drop in my anxiety at some point?

"I think that there's a very high chance that will work. And, I can promise you that there will be a drop in your anxiety during this because there always is a drop. If we got anxiety and then that fight or flight instinct didn't leave, well life would be scary all the time. And that's just not how life works," Dr. Charles answered.

Okay, you wrote. We can do it.

"Do you want me or one of them to hold it?"

You pointed to Dr. Charles.

What relaxation technique should I use to calm myself down?

"I'd recommend using the body scan because it takes the longest, but you can use whatever technique you want."

You nodded and closed your eyes.

"You ready?"

You nodded once again and Will wrapped his arm around your shoulder in the protective-oldest-brother-way he always had and Jay gave your hand a squeeze, silently reassuring you that everything would be okay.

"Start by relaxing your feet now, so that you're that you're in the right headspace."

You clenched and unclenched your toes, taking slow deep breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth, relaxing your toes one by one and focusing only on those sensations.

You heard the lighter flick open before you felt it. But when you felt it, it was near your face.

The smell of blood pierced your nostrils, whether it was yours or Jay's you had no idea. You were being held by one of Keyes' associates, his arm strongly wrapped around your shoulder. This time, you weren't hanging from the ceiling, but your arms were chained to the sides of you. Part of the chain laid in your right hand and it felt so heavy that you thought your hand was going to fall off.

He was saving the best for last, he was going to burn your face and let you burn from top-down. The fire would start at your cheek, move up to your nose, and then your eyes. You didn't want to even think about how much pain you'd feel when it hit your eyes. But, maybe you'll have passed out from shock, fear, or exhaustion by that point. You hoped you would.

Salty tears made your way down your face as you realized that this was it. You'd never see your brothers or your best friend again. You'd never graduate college. You'd never get to pick out the perfect wedding dress and walk down the aisle to marry the love of your life. Your last moments would be spent being burned alive in a basement, hoping against hope that someone would get here fast enough to rescue you. And, even though you knew Jay's unit was fast and wouldn't stop until you were safe, your hope was quickly fading.

"Any last words?"

"Please, please, no! I'll do anything! Anything!" you yelled, tugging on the chains.

But, he didn't burn your cheek for talking. Keyes broke the rules of his own game.

This was bad. It was just going to be worse for you. Your chest started moving up and down, trying to pass out from hyperventilation as fast as possible.

"Focus on your feet. Move the relaxation to your feet."

Who was that? It sounded like Dr. Charles.

"Relax, relax, relax."

Will was here, too?

But, whatever the reason, you focused on relaxing your feet. Maybe it would make dying easier.

The lighter hadn't moved closer to face as you made your way up your legs and relaxed your knees. Was Keyes going to burn you? Or, was he going to let you go?

"If you're gonna kill me, Keyes, then just do it!"

No answer.

You slowed your breath even more.

If Keyes didn't answer, that meant that he wasn't here. That meant, it was only fire. And, without Keyes to hold the fire. Fire couldn't hurt you. It couldn't hurt you.

"It can't hurt me. It can't hurt me," you whispered to yourself.

You dropped your head and shoulders and started to pant as the adrenaline wore off. Slowly you opened your eyes. "It can't hurt me," you said so that everyone in the room could hear.

Dr. Charles flicked the lighter closed.

You looked at each of your brothers. The person who you thought was Keyes' associate was just Will with his arm around you. And, what you had thought was part of the chain in your hand, was just Jay squeezing your hand.

"Thank you," you said to all three of them.

You turned to Will, to see him crying. "Why are you crying?" You turned and saw that Jay had tears in his eyes, too.

"I know the statistics of coming back from something like that, Y/N, of talking again. And I was scared- I was scared that you wouldn't come back from it."

"Hey, you're okay. We're okay," you repeated something that everyone has been telling you the past weeks.

You turned to Jay, knowing that this needed to be said. "And, Jay?" He looked you directly in the eyes. "I forgive you."

And that was all it took for a stray tear to roll down his cheek and for him to pull you into a hug. "I love you kid, you know that?"

"I love you, too. Both of you. Thanks for not giving up on me."

"Not a chance in hell," Will told you.

"Now, what do you say we go grab that mimosa?" Jay suggested.

"Yeah, let's do that."

The three of you said goodbye to Dr. Charles and left his office, meeting Hailey in the hallway. "I never got a chance to properly thank you for the book and coffee, Hailey, so thank you."

A smile grew on Hailey's face. "You're welcome." Then, she turned to Jay. "I told you she'd come around."

"You were right, babe...as always." Jay grabbed Hailey's hand in his and interlocked their fingers. "Think you can get someone to cover your shift, Will? Come out with us for some good old-fashioned brunch and day-drinking?"

"I think I might be able to manage that. Text me the place and I'll meet you there."

He started to walk away, on a mission to get someone to cover for him, when you remembered something. "Will, you owe me fifty bucks!"

#jay halstead #will halstead #hailey upton #chicago pd #chicago med #one chicago #kelly severide #chicago pd imagine #chicago med imagine #imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #halstead sister #halstead sister imagine #halstead brothers #halstead bros #halstead brothers imagine

291 notes · View notes

royallyprincesslilly · 4 years

Text

Title: Partners {7}*

OA Zidan/Zeeko Zaki x Reader

Warning: Cursing, Angst, Drama, Action, Multiple POV changes, Talk and Mild depiction of Sex Trafficking, Racism Implied, Possibly Triggering Content, Character Drugging, Violence, Groping, Implied Blood, Plot, Mild NSFW, PLENTY OF WORDS

Words: 9k

Summary: You’re a damn good FBI agent in your own right. It is definitely partly to do with how well you’ve been trained and partly to do with you not letting anything or anyone distract you. You have a six-year plan that you’re fast-tracking for four. After being transferred from your office in Tampa, you’ve been sent to New York, which you’ve labeled the “big leagues.” Your first day there, after being introduced to your new partner OA Zidan you realized you’ve moved out of the frying pan right into the pot of distraction. A year later and your growing attraction for your partner still hasn’t been snuffed out.

Note: This is a first for me writing about a TV show and interjecting into it. Let’s see how this goes. I hope you guys enjoy this. As always, thank you for reading.

If you enjoyed this please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 |

~~~~~~~~~~~

The slinkiness of the dress was not missed by you. Your fingers noticed it once you pulled it from the shopping bag. It was a pretty dress. You checked yourself in the mirror of the bathroom again, turning in every direction so you could see how you looked in a dress you probably would have chosen for yourself in Miami. The black sequins looked good against your skin, and the accent gold chains around your neck that draped down your body between your breasts made them look even more inviting than usual. You wondered who’d picked this dress. While you looked good, if you had to run, it would probably be a matter of time before you had a nip slip or a full-on boob pop out.

You took a deep breath, released it, and leaned closer to the mirror to peer deeper into your eyes. Your nerves were beginning to get the better of you.

“You can do this, Y/N. You’ve done this before. It’s not a big deal. You know the drill. You. Got. This!”

Taking a final breath, you stepped back, rearranged the neck of the dress, checked your make up then nodded to yourself, pleased at the final product. As you walked out of the bathroom and down the hall of the JOC, you tried to mentally psych yourself up. It had been a year since you’d done any undercover work and the nerves never really went away. Once you stepped into the common area where all your coworkers centered, one by one, the eyes drifted to you.

From the right, you heard a whistle. When you turned, it was Scola.

“Agent Y/L/N.”

You rolled your eyes then scoffed.

“Watch it, Scola.”

He lifted his hands in defeat as you walked up to Jubal, Kristen, OA, and Isobel. OA’s eyes slowly raked along your body, taking in every detail.

“This is as good as it’s gonna get,” you joked.

“You look incredible,” Isobel complimented.

“Eh, it’s just a dress. By the way, who picked this out?”

“That would be Kristen’s handiwork,” Jubal said with a smile as he bumped his shoulder into Kristen’s. You picked up on the way she smiled back at him before she focused on you.

“I see I picked right. I knew you had what was needed to carry it.”

“All right, all right,” you pushed out, trying to change the subject. “Are we ready to move?”

“Yes. We’re meeting our informant at a pickup spot near the heights. Let’s move people,” Jubal drilled.

Everyone went into motion, preparing to leave. The elevator ride was chatter filled as Jubal, Kristen, and Isobel listed things off from the file you had to remember. While your brain was functioning and focused on them, your body was also functioning and focused on OA, who was beside you with his hands clutched one over the other in front of him while he stared at the dial. Though he wasn’t looking at you, your body could feel the energy coming off of his body, and it was responding.

Once you piled into the van, you situated as Lim began explaining the intricacies of the few gadgets you wore, including mics in your diamond earrings, surveillance cameras embedded into the golden chains of the dress, and two chip trackers inside the ring, and an emergency explosive. You were impressed, and you let him know it. Lim was adorable. He always looked surprised to hear a compliment on how well he did his job or that someone noticed. You always made it a point to tell Lim how good of a job he was doing. You believed it was necessary to praise people when they deserved it, especially if you saw it.

You tried to retain the information you read in the files, along with the faces you saw. You knew the key to undercover work was memorizing as much as you could. Your success in Miami was because you were good with retaining information, thinking quickly on your feet, and solving things with small details that others would not have thought of. Your nerves were beginning to pick up, and you knew it was because while you’d been in a similar undercover situation before, this was a different monster. Whereas the sex club was a dangerous environment, it was a closed environment. With this operation, many variables would be left up to chance, and that were ever-changing. That meant more risk.

You tried not to look at OA. You didn’t want to give him any indication that you knew he was right and that this was too dangerous. Your father’s words echoed in your head.

“In this world, because of the color of your skin and your sex, you have to be twice as good and work twice as hard to get to where others would easily get to. You have to never show weakness. They will look for it because you’re a woman.”

Clenching your jaw, you straightened your posture and did your best to clear your mind. This assignment wouldn’t break you, thought to yourself over and over.

Fifteen minutes later, the van pulled up at the meet location that Jubal’s informant would come to get you to add to the shipment of women. After Lim checked that you were good with how the gadgets worked and were comfortable operating them, he gave you a comforting pat on the shoulder, a gentle squeeze, and a soft smile that spoke of his confidence in you. As he made a move to get out of the van, he stopped and came back to you.

“Can I say something I’ve always wanted to tell you?”

You nodded.

“Since you came to join us here, I’ve admired you. I think you’re smart, smarter than a lot of people I’ve worked with. You’ve impressed me more times than I can count, and I’m not in the least worried about you knocking this out of the park. Remember how badass you are.” He added a wink that made you smile.

“Thank you, Ian.”

“Anytime, Y/N. You’re—you’re great—you’ll be great.”

With that, he walked out and closed the doors behind him, leaving you and OA. You couldn’t help but smile. He was sweet.

“I think Ian’s got a crush,” OA uttered slightly under his breath.

“Oh, stop it.”

He approached you with his arms held out to you. Once he was close enough, his hands latched onto your waist.

“Should I be worried?”

You snorted then rose to meet his eyes. “You tell me. Should you?”

OA studied you for a few moments before he answered.

“I don’t know. Maybe I should.”

The warmth from his hands was working to calm some of your nerves. You sighed out, placed your hands on his forearms, and then traced patterns into his exposed skin.

“Don’t be jealous.”

“Ya know something; I didn’t think I was a jealous man—before now,” he replied.

You stared at each other, neither of you speaking. After several long moments, you looked down. OA tipped your chin up, so you looked at him.

“I feel I have to say something right now,” OA began.

You quirked your eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

“You look—incredibly gorgeous.”

Slowly your lips spread into a wide smile that got wider and wider.

“I can’t believe the first time I see you like this is for a sting operation rather than our first date.”

The butterflies began fluttering in your gut, making your knees go weak. You slouched back on the cold table that lined the side of the van. OA’s hands slid down to your hips and squeezed. The action did nothing for the fluttering in your belly, but it helped to stabilize you.

“Well—maybe you’ll actually get that first date if you get the balls to finally ask for it,” you teased.

OA’s smile began small until you were staring at his perfect teeth. With no hesitation, he lowered his lips to yours for a sweet kiss that he took control of. His lips trailed down your jaw and back to your ear where be nibbled and licked along its shell. With every lick, the butterflies in your gut fluttered more rapidly, and with every nibble, your sex throbbed. You couldn’t believe you were getting turned on at a time like this.

“Are you okay?”

His whisper against your ear made you sigh. It was the question you were dreading. Mustering as much gusto as you could, you put on a tough exterior.

“I’m fine. As I said, it’s no big deal and nothing I haven’t done before.”

The more you spoke, the less you believed your own words. When you looked at OA, he didn’t even look to believe your words.

“You don’t have to play tough with me. I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re lying and when something isn’t as it seems.”

OA moved his hands from their place on your hips to buckle behind you at the small of your back. His long fingers splayed across your bare skin, making any cold shell you were trying to wear melt away. You sighed again.

“Okay, I am nervous, but it’s jitters. Everyone gets em’.”

OA kissed your forehead and kept his lips there for a few seconds. “I know you can do this. It’s never been a question of if you could. It was always, should you? I know you’ve got this because you are the most incredible agent that I’ve known in a long time. You’re smart, quick on your feet, charismatic, and don’t even get me started on what an amazing profiler you are. Plus, your right hook and roundhouse is a thing of beauty.”

You giggled, then lowered your head to his collar. Even in heels, he was still slightly taller than you. His chuckle vibrated against your forehead, and the tension in the van automatically decreased. When your laughs subsided, you bit your bottom lip and thought about your next words carefully.

“If this goes south,” you began before OA pulled you back so he could look at you.

“It won’t.”

“If it does,” you tried again.

OA cupped your jaw and slid his thumb along your lips until it was in the center, silencing you.

“It won’t. You got this, and I have your back. We all do.”

For some reason, that touched you more now than it ever had before. He always had your back, and so did the team. That was what a team was. You tried to keep your emotions in check, but the longer you saw the compassion in his eyes that felt more and more like something more intimate than compassion, the more your emotions went haywire. You crushed your body to his for a hug. Resting your cheek against his chest, you listened to the drum of his heart, hoping it would soothe you as it had less than twenty-four hours ago.

“Let me get this out, Omar,” you whispered, feeling your heart race.

“If things go south, I want you to know I have loved every single minute that I’ve been your partner. Thank you for making me a better agent, and thank you for helping me see sometimes following your heart can lead to great things,” you said, somehow able the keep your voice from shaking.

Before you could slow your racing heart, OA pulled you back again and crashed his lips to yours, making it race even more. You happen to open your eyes at the same moment he did, and while your lips danced together, your eyes spoke words that had been left unspoken in your heart.

It took just seconds for OA’s hands to drop to your hips again and yours to begin to quickly fight with the belt he wore. As OA squeezed your hips and moaned against your lips, you managed to free him of his belt and undo the buttons of his pants. When OA’s hands slipped to your backside, he gripped it with such a roughness you knew his need and how closely it mirrored yours. His hands quickly pulled at the fabric of the dress, inching it up over your hips to reveal your thonged ass to the cold surface of the table.

Finally free of his pants, he turned you, so you now faced the wall of the van. You bent forward, bracing your hands on the table as OA freed his member. When you felt him rub himself against your slit, you shuddered and anxiously anticipated the feel of his intrusion. As he slowly slid into you, connecting your bodies inch by inch, one hand gripped your hip, and the other covered your mouth in time to muffle the deep moan you let out.

OA sucked in a shuddered breath, then groaned. Once he was buried to the hilt, he circled his hips, making goosebumps erupt all over your skin. OA lowered his lips to your shoulder, bit down on your flesh then began thrusting in and out of you. While his movements were slow, the force with which he rocked into you was intense. Within seconds he’d sped his movements and the force that he flicked his hips. With every move forward, it was powerful enough to have your entire body jerk from it. In no time, you’d begun rocking along with him. When he retreaded, you did too, only to slam back onto him, taking all of him.

You could tell your movements were driving OA crazy because of the tightness of his grip on your body. He hovered over your back and went to your ear.

“Habibi,” he whispered. “Aikhtar,” he groaned. “Eshq,” he panted.

It took those three words to bring you to the horizon of your orgasm, and he must have known it because he sped up, slamming into you, filling you completely. It only took a few thrust and the cup of his large hand against your sex for you to whimper. As his fingers strummed your pearl, heightening your arousal making you more desperate for your release. It wasn’t long before OA was marking you as his from the inside out.

Slowly both of you came down from your euphoric cloud. Your breathing evened out, the tremble of your body slowed, but your heart still pounded, and you knew it was just for him. Within a few minutes, OA had you dressed and presentable again, and when he was the self-controlled and professional Agent Zidan again, he pulled you against him.

“I’m going to do everything and anything needed to make sure we get to have that date,” he said while gazing into your eyes with such intensity you knew he meant the words he spoke. “Anything,” he repeated for emphasis.

Before you could speak, there was a knock on the van, signaling that the informant had arrived and it was showtime. OA pressed his forehead to yours for a few seconds, then kissed your nose before he backed off. You turned to the table, looking into the purse you had, and reapplied your lipstick. When you were sure you were good, you and OA hopped out of the van to join the team with them none the wiser.

“I really wish we could put a wire on you, but I think you know what we can’t,” Isobel said.

“I get it. I’ll probably go through a strip-search,” you filled in. Once you said it, you heard OA grumble.

“We have the jewelry surveillance, so you’re not alone in there. We can’t talk to you, but we can hear and see what you do,” Jubal assured.

You nodded as you went over the file one last time. Over your quiet surroundings, you all heard the signal. You gave them a nod being careful not to look at OA before you walked away from them. You didn’t think you could handle that. After taking a few steps, though, you looked back at him. He stood there with his arms crossed across his broad chest with the deepest scowl on his face that accompanied his tightly clenched jaw. Deciding to test the tech, you said the one thing you knew you could that only he would get.

“My back, your back, we got that.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

-OA-

He hated this more than he hated the stares he got his first few weeks at Quantico. Those weeks were a different hell. It was a hell that tested everything he knew about himself and how who he was would connect to his work—if it could connect. Because of his culture and heritage, he got a lot of flack. He’d had to work twice as hard to prove himself even though he’d done two tours in Iraq and had earned his dues and proven himself as an asset. This hell, though, it gripped his heart tighter than anything else. He wondered if it was because what he had to lose was just way in life. If he failed, he would have to live with the shame. Now, if this failed, he’d have to live with much more. Regret. Heartbreak. They were two things he didn’t want any part of. It was your fault.

He’d fallen in love with his partner. It was the first rule in the book. The first rule that was drilled in his head in every line he went into. In the Rangers, it was don’t get involved with your peers or form any personal or intimate connections with informants or those in the field. In the DEA, it was, go by the book and don’t get involved with anyone on any level. He’d learned how challenging and intricate undercover work was there. Here he was after all these years and all his life experiences throwing the book away, setting ablaze first, though.

He listened to the informant drill you on everything you needed to know as he walked you to the truck you’d be in. In the back of the van with Isobel, Kristen, Jubal, and the rest of the team, he felt like he was sitting on pins and needles, but he couldn’t show any of it. He knew if he showed too much concern, it would raise curiosity about your relationship's true nature. He had to remain calm and neutral enough for a partner and not venture into the realm of the concerned lover.

You were so good that as the truck drove with you in the back, you sang a song in French. It wasn’t just any song, though. You fed them intel of everything that was around you, how many other girls were in the back, their descriptions, scents, and any other piece of information that would help with the case. Everyone around him looked pleased, and he knew Isobel was relieved. You were showing in less than an hour why you were the right person for the job.

“She’s got this,” Jubal said aloud while nodding his head and snapping the rubber band against his wrist, a nervous tick he’d noticed when Kristen was injured in the hospital.

At the thought of Kirsten, he looked across to her. she was sitting with Ian, and the two were talking closely, most likely about the case, but it made him look back to Jubal for his reaction. The look on Jubal’s face didn’t give much away, but being a good profiler, he picked up on a few things. Jubal didn’t look to like how close they were. He wondered then if you and he weren’t the only ones who were fraternizing.

The puzzle gave him something to occupy his mind instead of him worrying and thinking of worst case scenarios, and he was glad for it. After almost forty minutes, your reporting notified that the truck had stopped and everyone was being led out.

“Here we go, people,” Isobel notified.

The tension in the van returned tenfold as everyone’s attention went to the screens. He tagged the route the truck had taken thanks to the tracking devices you wore and calculated the quickest route to you in case things went south. He watched the feed you expertly gave. You made sure to turn in every possible direction so you could give them a quick lay of the land. Every angle Ian and Kirsten tagged, they let out an audible “yes.” You were making everyone’s job easier.

You were led into a large house. The interior was decorated richly. The techs worked to make connections with everything in the feed, artwork, photos, and even furniture. Any of it could lead to a break. You stopped for a second, then bent forward, bringing a clear photo of four men into the frame.

“Get that picture scrubbed. I want to know everything about all of them, even their childhood pet’s name. Come on, people. Let’s get Y/N out of there in under twenty-four hours,” Jubal drilled.

The van came alive with chatter and activity, and he focused more intently on the feed. With his fingers steepled underneath his bearded chin, he tried to stay present.

“File in here, ladies. You know the drill. Inspection.”

He clenched his jaw, hating what that sounded like. He continued watching the feed. He took in the details of the room and guessed they were holding the women in a basement. The women around the room were all dressed in their best. He’d clocked bruises on some and small injuries on others. Having worked an undercover case like this one, he knew the ones with small injuries were probably the older ones that had been acquired over a year ago while the ones with bruises were newer. In situations like these, the older ones, because of their wear and tear, were abused more. They were usually kept on reserve for those with particular tastes. They were deemed the expendable ones.

When the men approached you, they brought you into another room where two men were waiting. Once they laid eyes on you, they whistled and made catcalls at you.

“Wow. We have an exotic one.”

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Dulce,” you replied.

“Ah, you were brought in with Snake, part of the special shipment from Florida. He said very good things about the women in that shipment.”

The man approached you and slowly walked around you before he stopped in front again.

“Where you from, honey?”

“I can be from anywhere you like.”

“she’s good,” Isobel voiced. “She knows giving men like that control means appeasement.”

“So you’re a people pleaser, huh.”

“Absolutely sugar. I please people,” you replied.

The men laughed together before exchanging glances.

“Well, Dulce, we gotta search you, so be a good girl as I—sample the goods.”

He watched the man approach you. He didn’t know if he could stomach watching, but he didn’t look away.

“Ah, very nice.” He sounded like the sleaziest of perverts, and his anger flared.

The air in the vibe went from tense to uncomfortable. They all knew what was happening. He was glad he couldn’t see your face. As soon as he thought it, you were moved, and you now stood in front of a mirror, and your reflection was now what he saw. The man in a burgundy button-down and black slacks was before you—on you. He walked behind you then brought his hands around to cup your breasts.

“Son of a--.”

Clenching his jaw, he continued watching. The sleazeball's hands slid down your abdomen.

“Everyone look away,” Isobel ordered.

He did not. When he saw the asshole’s hand creep to your crotch, he was ready to end this whole thing. The look on your face was a detached one. You didn’t look as if it phased you.

“Hey! What’re you doing? She’s for the boss. No one is to touch her.”

The informant came into the frame just in time before the perv groped you any further.

“I’m sure Boss would want us to make sure she’s clean.”

“You’re just trying to get your rocks off. You know how he feels about the first touch. Should I tell him that you dirtied his entertainment for the night?”

The two men faced off, but the informant didn’t back down.

“You’re lucky you’re so high up, Snake.”

“Shut the fuck up. Know your place. You, out.”

You walked to the door with Snake behind you. While everyone else in the room released a relieved sigh, he didn’t. This was but a tiny victory. There would be many more tests and close calls before the night was done.

“I’ll get you to the bathroom upstairs. It is next door to the office. You have three minutes. Use them wisely. I’ll be back to bring you to them.”

A little while later, you walked into the bathroom and released a breath. He could tell you forgot about the camera on you as you allowed your nerves to show—just a little. He wished he could be there to help in any way you’d let him, but he wasn’t. He even wished you could hear him. After a fifteen or twenty second reprieve, you were sneaking out the bathroom door to the office next door. Once inside, you began rummaging through cabinets, drawers, folders, and even the trash, giving them a glance at anything you came across. You moved so quickly that each analyst worked on each piece of data your lens came across.

“I think I found something,” you said, opening a folder with the letters “NDB” tapped across its cover. You flipped through the pages giving them two or three seconds each page to capture it in a screenshot.

“Yes, Y/N, that’s it,” Jubal cheered on.

“That has to be a record with getting in,” Isobel said more to herself than anyone else.

“It looks like these are future plans. I have names, dates, locations, pictures even.”

“That’s all we need, right,” Kristen inquired.

“I mean,” Jubal began.

“No. while this is good, we need a clear shot of them all in the room and to hear talk about any attack as well as get them in some sort of incriminating situation. With that, we got 'em dead to rights,” Isobel clarified.

“Fuck!”

It was an outburst he hadn’t expected. He’d been trying to hold it together, but the thought of you being there any longer really was not sitting right with him. the eyes in the van trailed to him. No doubt they were shocked to see him lose his cool. No one said anything about it, though. He watched as you snuck out of the office after putting everything back to make it in the bathroom. Once the bathroom door clicked shut, Snake was there to retrieve you.

“Change of plans. You girls are meant to be eye candy. Sort of like a look but don’t touch event. He likes to use this as his foreplay. Keep a cool head, and remember you’re not trying this on for the day. You live this. Act accordingly.”

~~~~~~~~~~

-Y/N-

Snake led you into another part of the house that was filled with girls and about ten men that were being entertained by the chosen girls. You looked around, clocking your exits and the possible escape routes first, then took inventory of the girls and finally the men. Snake left your side but not before giving you a stern look as if to remind you that your life was not the only one at stake here. You didn’t need a reminder.

Your encounter in the room was a quick reintroduction that woke your ass up to the real dangers that you’d now found yourself in. Back in Miami, you’d found yourself in a similar situation, and the only way you were able to get through it was to detach from it. You mentally put yourself in the frame of mind of a different person and became them. It made it easier. You knew it was what you would have to do now.

“Dulce, Dulce, Dulce, Dulce,” you whispered to yourself before you took a deep breath and slowly released it. When you did, you decided to fake it until you had it. Your first move was to take a lap around the room. You still had to locate the SVU agent on no intel. The department was reluctant to share any information for fear of a leak because of the case's sensitive nature and how long their agent had been undercover. So you were running on nothing but the assurance that if possible, they would make contact.

One lap turned to two, but before you could do a third, one of the men approached you, cornering you.

“Why hello. I haven’t seen you before.”

You pasted on a sugary sweet smile and leaned against the wall. “Oh, no? I’m new.”

The man smiled, giving you a chill.

“I like new. I like to break in the new thoroughbreds.”

He grabbed your wrist and began dragging you through the room. His grip was tight, but you didn’t make a sound. You could see he was dragging you toward a couch. From the corner of your eye, you saw one of the girls watching you. Her long brunette hair framed her face, and her plum-colored lipstick gave her a youthful glow. Before you could take in any more details, the man dropped onto the couch and released your wrist.

“Dance.”

You hesitated, caught off guard by his actions and the command.

“All right, darlin, no need to get rough.”

You swayed from side to side in front of him in slow movements using the time to formulate a plan. Slowly you turned your back to him as you began winding your waist. It was then you noticed a dangerous looking man across the room also watching your every move. Snake approached him, whispered, and nodded in your direction. Bingo, you thought. Adding to the show you were putting on, you trailed your hands along your body and beginning at the outer parts of your thighs, up along your hips. When you reached your stomach, you brought them up to cup your breasts, all the while staring at the man across the room. Turning from him and back to the younger gentleman on the couch, you smiled, bit your bottom lip, and winked.

“You’re a naughty girl, aren’t you?”

You nodded.

“Do you know what naughty girls get?”

You shook your head.

“This.”

The man gripped his appendage and shook it for emphasis.

“Come get this cock, slut.”

As he lunged for you, you saw Snake approach. He whispered to the man before he made contact, and the look on his face went from lust riddled to fearful. He straightened his clothes, then walked away.

“he says get a glass of champagne and sit.”

You took the glass of champagne that Snake offered you and sat on the now empty couch. You knew that you had him on the hook. You’d expected it to be more work than that. For the next few hours, on the couch was where you remained. You watched every immoral thing the men did to the women and sat through it all. The first hour was difficult because every injustice you saw you wanted to remedy, but by hour two and three, you’d found a way to tune it out.

A few hours later, you were brought over to the boss. You recognized him from the pictures in the files. His eyes roamed your body, taking in every detail. It was a full two minutes before he spoke.

“You name.”

“Dulce.”

He chuckled. “Ha, the Spanish word for sweet. Are you sweet?”

“That’s for you to find out, I guess.”

No words followed. The way he looked at you made your skin crawl. It was the look of a true psychopath. He was the worst kind, though, a hypocritical one, one that sought to subjugate that which he hated. He preached up and down how whites were the superior race, and any others were inferior and seen as dirty, but here he was eying you like he planned to give you a thorough cavity search knowing damn well your skin was not white.

You took in the details and learned his ticks. From the way his jaw flinched every few minutes to the way he held on to the arm of the chair, you knew he was trying to hold tightly to something inside of him. Men like this often had a secret side to them.

“Sit.”

Doing as you were told, you sat. He continued his conversation. Again the girl with brunette hair caught your eye. She was watching every move you made, and that fact alone told you she was the SVU agent. It was a hunch, an unproven one. The mention of an attack had your attention going back to the man seated beside you. His hand came out to clasp your upper thigh. His fingers between your crossed legs holding on as if he owned you. Men like him always thought people were property to own, use, then trade.

“Just make sure everything goes off without a hitch. We’ve worked too long for his, and too many lives have been lost for it all to be for naught.”

“Don’t worry. As we speak here, they are setting up the event location. By this time tomorrow, we’ll have our victory. That is why we’re here tonight—to celebrate.”

You hoped those in the van got that.

“Maybe it’s time to take your turn,” one of the men suggested.

The Boss’s eyes landed on you before he brought them to his hand on your thigh. “Soon. You go sit there,” he ordered.

You stood and walked over to the brunette who’d been watching you for the last few hours and sat beside her. You didn’t want to give yourself away, so you said nothing. In undercover work, you never knew who had flipped. Pretending to be someone else twenty-four-seven took its toll, and many blurred the lines forgetting who they really were. You didn’t know if she was one of them. If she were, she’d give you up in a heartbeat.

Instead of giving yourself up, you decided to play it cool and observe. One way or another, she would show who she really was. The scene before you quickly got old. No one touched you or the Burnett you sat beside. It was like they all knew their place and didn’t even dare question it. They didn’t touch you, but they sure watched. You’d caught so many of them eye-fucking you it was seriously making you sick. For a second, your mind ran on OA and if he’d seen the scene in the backroom. As quickly as your mind dashed to him, you forced it away. Clear head, you reminded yourself. The easiest way to end up dead was to lose focus.

A middle-aged man in grey suit pants and a matching grey button-down that was unbuttoned one too many buttons stopped in front of the two of you. He smiled and eyeballed the brunette first, then you.

She kissed her teeth and rolled her eyes. “Keep walking, Pete. Even you’re not dumb enough to touch one of Lowball’s treats. You know he likes them clean, and you also know what he’ll do to ya if he sees one print.”

This so-called Pete rolled his eyes, sighed, then walked away mumbling something underneath his breath.

“Loser,” she finished.

That was when your eyes met.

“You’re new.”

“What of it?”

She smiled, then continued chewing her gum.

“What’s your name, sweetie?”

“Dulce.”

“Ah, I like sweet things.”

She trailed her pointer up over your exposed knee until it made it’s way to the hem of your short dress. Once there, it lingered, seductively tracing the hem.

“Your print doesn’t count?”

She smiled, then leaned to your ear. Her lips were close enough for you to feel them.

“Nope. He likes to watch. Take a look.”

You slyly glanced to the one she’d called Lowball, and sure enough, he was watching the two of you like a hawk on his perch.

“See. He gets off on it, especially if the new treat has to be broken in. Do you?”

You turned to look at her, your lips were centimeters apart, but you didn’t back down.

“Do I what?”

She smiled, bit her bottom lip then spoke. “Need to be broken in.”

You slowly smirked then bit your own bottom lip. Two can play this game.

“Depends on who’s doing the breaking,” you replied.

The brunette smiled, then closed the gap between you, pressing her lips to yours. Before you knew it, she was taking charge of a sultry kiss. She rolled her tongue around yours then sucked. As she did, you felt her hand cup your breast. Your first instinct was to pull away, but you also knew that was the wrong instinct. This was a test. You allowed her to kiss you, then battled her for control. After a minute, the kiss was still going, but once you thought of it, she pulled away, sucking her bottom lip.

“Was I your first?”

You gave her a faux shy smile. “No”

She smiled wider.

“Hey, lowball. This stallion is a certified good time.”

She looked away from you for a few seconds and looked to Lowball before she smiled wider.

“Let’s go.”

You allowed her to lead you by the hand through the room filled with sex and drugs until you were in a hall. Neither of you spoke, and when you looked behind you, there was Lowball with his eyes on you.

“I’m Tommi, by the way,” the brunette said with a smile.

Soon you walked inside of a bedroom that was made of luxury but built for a sleaze. The room was filled with glass and leather. It even smelled like leather. The more you walked into the room, the more detail you took in. The linen on the bed was black silk, and there was even a mirror above the bed.

“Go get ready, Tommi. Let me have five minutes with this beauty.”

Your gut tensed, and Tommi hesitated, looking at Lowball.

“Aww, you’re going to have fun without me, daddy?”

Her whine was loud. Lowball smiled.

“Don’t worry, angel, I promise you’ll be here for the fun stuff.”

Tommi glanced at you, then back to Lowball, then shrugged as she walked to another door inside the bedroom. Before she closed the door behind her, you noticed her hand making fists in a staggered pulse pattern. Instantly you recognized it as a common sign you’d learned at Quantico. It meant you’re not alone or among friends. Tommi was the undercover agent with SVU. You looked to Lowball who stared at you as if he were trying to figure you out and unnerve you. You wouldn’t let it work.

“Dulce, cute name. how are you going to prove it?”

“The easiest way to find out if something is sweet is to taste it,” you teased, uncrossing and crossing your legs again.

His eyes dropped to them, and that was where they remained. After too long, he stood and walked over to the bar. You heard the clinking of glass and crystal and anxiously waited for either him or Tommi to come back in. when he turned to you again, he held two glasses filled with a brown liquid. When he sat again, you watched him dig into his pant pocket and come back out with a small clear packet with white powder inside of it.

Fuck, you thought. Many perps who operated sex trafficking rings liked to string their girls out before spending time with a perp. The gossip was the drugs always made the girls more compliant and easier to take advantage of. You watched him pour the contents into one of the glasses. Your stomach fell.

“Oooh, daddy, now we’re really starting this party,” Tommi interjected as she crossed the room dressed in a sexy burgundy lingerie set.

“Mmm, you look, wonderful angel,” Lowball complimented.

He held out the glass that was substance-free to Tommi and held the one that he’d just laced to you. You hesitated. You knew precisely what the plan was after you drank that, and depending on what it was, you had thirty minutes before your choices would no longer be your own.

“There are two ways out of this room, Dulce. Covered in, or filled with my superior cum or dead. Your choice,” Lowball informed.

Tommi caught your eye. She sat on Lowball’s knee, rubbing his arm, but her eyes were dark.

“Take a ride with me, Dulce,” she chimed.

Sighing, you took the glass and swirled the liquid around, examining how undetectable whatever it was he’d poured in was. You downed the drink in one rise and tried to keep from vomiting. Shit was about to get real, you thought.

Lowball smiled then stood, making Tommi stand as well.

“Good job Dulce. I knew you’d see it my way,” he said before he walked away to the door.

“I’ll be back in as much time as it takes that to kick in. You girls have some fun.

The door closed behind him, and you gasped. Tommi was beside you in seconds. She dipped a little lower to come face to face with your earrings.

“She’s just ingested Rolong. It’s a nastier version of Rohypnol these assholes craft themselves. You have thirty maybe forty minutes to figure out a way to grab control of this sting, or else your girl will find herself in a situation she won’t be able to avoid.”

She looked at you, and though she looked relatively calm, you could still see some sort of panic in her eyes.

“I have this.”

She dug in her cleavage and pulled out a syringe. You had no idea how she’d concealed it for its size.

“What—what is this?”

“It’s adrenaline. It’s not much, and it won’t have a big of an impact as I’d like, but it will help with the effects. It’ll buy us maybe fifteen minutes,” Tommi explained.

“Fine.”

You held out your arm, giving her permission to inject you.

“It’ll work better to your thigh.”

Tommi pulled up your dress to find the right spot, then lowered the needle. Before she inserted the tip into your skin, she looked back at you. You gave her a nod to proceed. The injection's sting was sharp, and it felt as if it continued to go for so long.

“Here we go,” Tommie whispered before she administered the medical cocktail.

The burn in your thigh began almost immediately. It was a burn that increased, a burn that intensified until it felt like a terrible muscle spasm without the pain. Once the burn subsided, you could have sworn you felt the drug course through your body. It could have been your imagination or the effects of the other drug you’d ingested. You didn’t know.

“In a minute or two, you’ll feel like you’ve stuck your finger in a socket. Try to remain calm. Remember, when he returns, he will be expecting you to be disoriented and pliable. You have to play along, or he will know something is not right. Do you understand me?”

You nodded though your head felt heavy, and you felt as if you were about to topple over any minute. The woman in front of you was no longer clear or alone. There looked to be three or four of her. You tried to snap yourself out of it, and that was when you felt your heart begin to race. It began beating ten times faster than it had before. The only other time you recalled it beating like this was with OA. You heard Tommie speak again, but you didn’t quite understand what she said. It sounded muffled and distorted as if her voice was from a static transmission.

“Come, you have to be ready by the time he gets back,” Tommie said.

She walked over to the bench in the bedroom and returned with a black two-piece lingerie set along with a pink robe. This was not new to you. Men like these liked to see their prize displayed in as little clothes as possible. You dressed with Tommi’s help. With each passing minute, you felt the effects of both the adrenaline and the drug. Also, with each passing minute, your movements became slower and slower.

Once you were changed, you looked at yourself in the mirror, and you looked ready to seduce any man. You staggered to the bed and then dropped onto it, unable to even carry the weight of your own body anymore. Tommi sat beside you and opened her mouth to say something but the door suddenly opened. Tommi laid on top of you and whispered for you to play along. She nuzzled your neck while caressing your thigh.

“Don’t let me interrupt. I think I’ll watch for a moment,” Lowball said.

Tommi looked at him and smiled. “I have a better idea. Let me entertain you while the Rolong takes full effect.”

She stood and walked to Lowball, who was seated a few feet from the bed. The sound of loud pop-rock filled the room, and Tommi’s hips moved along with it. You laid there feeling as if there was a war going on inside of you. Two impulses were fighting for control. One impulse wanted to lay there, do nothing and stare at the ceiling that had begun spiraling as if it were a kaleidoscope. The other impulse wanted to get up and dance as if this were the last night you would be alive. Your limbs didn’t know which to listen to. Every time your muscles twitched to stand, your upper body refused to obey.

Your brain found it next to impossible to think of one thing. It continued to jump from topic to topic, making you dizzy in the process. You tried to fight against the effects of the roofie you’d been given. You tried to aid the adrenalin pumping through your body, trying to work as a diluting agent. Several times time felt as if it lagged. It felt as if even your blinking was slowed, taking forever to close your eyes and open them again.

When you felt the bed dip, you didn’t know how much time had passed. It felt like an eternity. Looking to your right, you saw Tommi. She came to your ear and whispered.

“We have ten minutes,” she whispered before she climbed on top of you then pulled Lowball into her embrace. You laid there watching, becoming more and more unsure of what was happening.

“I think she’s ripe for the plucking.”

Tommi giggled, then looked down at you.

“I think we’d have a better time making her watch first. She needs to know what you like, daddy.”

He looked to be contemplating things, and as he did, his eyes roamed over your body, taking in every detail. You felt a hand slide down your body, beginning at your neck and down the center of your body until it reached your navel.

“I like that idea.”

With that, he pulled Tommi to him, leaving you there to watch and listen. Your being must have felt how precarious your situation was because a strong will to fight overcame you, giving you renewed energy.

“I’ve changed my mind.”

Lowball pushed Tommi aside and climbed on top of you, burying his face in your neck.

“The best way to learn is to do. She will catch on quick if she wants to live.”

Almost as soon as his hands began roaming your body more vigorously, screams could be heard, but Lowball didn’t budge. When he heard the sound of a gunshot and glass shattering, he rolled off of you, dropping to the floor beside the bed. The room began to fill with smoke.

“Stay here,” Tommi shouted.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion, but real-time at the same time. You desperately tried to keep up.

“Snap out of it, Y/N. Get up. Get up!”

Though you were trying, your limbs were not obeying you. The sound of gunshots became louder and more persistent. Coughing, you tried to focus on making yourself get up. You tried to will your body to cooperate. Clenching your jaw, you screamed.

“Get up!”

With much effort, you rose then bent forward until you were able to sit up straight. Instead of celebrating this small feat, you willed yourself to stand. You stood then tried to steady yourself. Before you could take a step, someone barreled into you, taking you to the ground. That was when your muscle instinct took over. You swung a punch that connected with someone’s jaw. Not waiting for them to retaliate, you began fighting back, not knowing who you punched. When you felt knuckles connect with your face, it had a strangely sobering effect like a second injection of adrenaline.

You rolled onto them and proceeded to punch, not stopping. You felt a gun to your back. Before pausing, you punched the person underneath you once more. When you did that, the person behind you tried to grab you but got your robe instead, pulling it clear off you. As they did that, it gave you reprieve enough to do one of the tricky moves you’d learned at Quantico, which allowed you to flip the perp over your shoulder to land on the ground. You scurried around for the gun, praying you found it in time, especially with the fog in the room. When you grabbed it, you used the butt of the gun to slam down into the face of whoever was unlucky enough to find themselves your adversary.

You stood and staggered to the door, then leaned on it trying to catch your breath. You checked the magazine in the Glock you held. Satisfied, you took a few more breaths trying to overcome your debilitation.

“Let’s go, Y/N. You’ve got this.”

You pushed yourself off the door then proceeded to go through the hall, fighting every step of the way. Every few moments, you leaned against a wall to catch your breath. A few gunshots sounded behind you, making you crouch and aim backward to clip the kneecap of one of the despicable men who worked for Lowball. When they reached for their weapon, you shot again, seeing the bullet puncture their chest. While they pushed out their last breath, you continued on.

Getting to the stairs that led downstairs, you found bodies littered along the way.

“Stop right there!”

In front of you, the same man from the inspection stood there, pointing his pistol right at you.

“Ha, of course, it was you. I knew there was something off about you.”

“Guess you should have trusted your gut. Lower your weapon, and we’ll offer you a good deal,” you countered.

“Not a chance.”

“Listen dickhead. Do you hear that? That silence says your side has lost, and mine has won.”

He lunged for you, and his shoulder knocked the wind out of you as he took you down, making both of you tumble down the stairs. You felt each step the entire way down. When you’d finished tumbling, you laid there, unable to move.

“You bitch!”

He climbed on you and wrapped his hands around your throat, and began squeezing. You gagged and coughed. It was then that the roofie took the strongest hold of you. Your entire body felt heavy, and even the thought of clawing his eyes out was too much. Every time you lifted your hands to do the job, they only plopped back down. You knew you were seconds from blacking out and seconds from death.

He pulled one hand away, reached into his shirt pocket, and uncapped a needle with his mouth.

“Let’s see you survive this!”

He stabbed the needle into the side of your neck that he held with one impossibly strong hand. You screamed as he injected the substance into your bloodstream and, in the same breath, managed to reach the gun that was a few feet away from you and mustered enough energy to aim at his gut. A gunshot sounded, and the man’s movements above you paused for a moment before he tried to begin again. It was enough of a pause for you to take better aim with the gun, this time releasing another bullet in the center of his chest. He slumped forward enough for you to overpower him, but still, he fought. You rolled onto them and released one more bullet right in the center of his head.

It was then you shouted out before you dropped onto him, then flopped to your back to stare at the ceiling. The sounds of gunshots around you slowed to only a few every so often. You didn’t know how long you laid there. It could have been five, ten, or more minutes. When you felt able, you sat up and stood, using the wall to hold your weight.

With the gun in hand, you walked through the large home. You felt half-dead, and you knew it was whatever he’d injected you with. Your steps became slower and slower. Your movements more and more lagging. Still, you continued pushing through door after door, trying your best to fight. You slowly pushed through yet another door and found bright scope lights and red laser dots on your lingerie-clad body.

“Freeze!”

You tried to raise your hands but only made it halfway.

“Y/N!”

Hearing OA’s voice, your body finally gave out. Before you touched the floor, OA was there, engulfing you in his arms.

“I got you, baby. I got you,” he whispered.

You felt him tapping your cheeks, making you look at him blearily.

“Are you hurt?”

“Help me up.”

OA used his strength to stand you up. Kristen was to your side in seconds, and in a few more seconds, OA had draped his FBI jacket around your shoulders before he scooped you in his arms. Unable to fight the drugs in your system any longer, you passed out sure of your safety in OA’s arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

***If you want to be tagged/untagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!***

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TagList:

@titty-teetee @bamakakechick @bellaamor88 @theblulife @caplover22@toniilaney @lo-cheu @chaneajoyyy @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @ajspencer1892 @dangerouslovefanfic @alyxkbrl @chillavesss @drsunshine97 @melaninhawtie @simplyyamberr @ashanti-notthesinger @afraiddreamingandloving @wakanda-inspired @cleothegoldfish @builtalongthewayside @theunsweetenedtruth @geeksareunique @aykanna

@hanasamara @profilia @ollieveracity @autumn242 @missyperle @sup3rn0va13 @forbeautyandlife @kreolemami @designerwriterchic @theskullgoddess @maxcullen @disaster-rose @bugngiz @winchwm @kikimiyazaki @90sinspiredgirl @evemej @areubeingserved @caramara3 @give-me-a-million-dollars-pls @surmya1907 @minton131 @detectiveinchicago @momobaby227 @thevelvetseries @rawesome10105

@queenreignssupreme @behindthesehazeleyes27 @browngirldominion @asiaaisa77 @melanicia @jovanaprime @jasminedayz @mauvecherie-writes @i-just-like-fanfics @msblkfire84

#partners fic #oa zidan #oa zidan fanfiction #zeeko zaki #zeeko zaki fanfiction #oa zidan x reader #oa zidan x you #oa zidan x black reader #fbi fanfiction #black fanfiction #angst fanfic

224 notes · View notes

sequinsmile-x · 3 years

Text

Riptide

A love story told from two perspectives. One after it is has ended, and the other just as it begins.

Chapter 2: The Middle

Words: 5k

Rating: Mature. Major Character Death.

You can either read over on a03 or below the cut.

I would love to know what you think.

November 2025

Six weeks after Aaron dies it’s the anniversary of Haley’s death. The date had been burned in her brain long before they were together, the memory of hearing Haley begging Aaron to teach Jack about love was something she was sure she would never forget.

Emily’s still laying in bed when she realises what Aaron no longer being around meant. That he wouldn’t be there to leave flowers at her grave like he did every year with his son. Emily wasn’t even sure if Jack was in town or if he was back at college, his responses to her attempts to reach out short and sharp.

It’s the easiest she’s gotten out of bed in weeks. Determined to do this one thing for the man she loves and the woman he had loved before her. She dresses quickly and throws her hair up in a bun. She goes to a nearby florist and buys the most expensive flowers she can, feeling as if flowers from the grocery store just wouldn’t have been enough.

When she gets to Haley’s grave she falters, wondering for a moment if she has somehow overstepped. She swallows against the feeling and places the flowers down on Haley’s bare grave and she sits down, the damp grass pressing into her knees through her thin yoga pants.

“Hi Haley.” She says, looking at the flowers she had just put down. “I used to do this for him when he was in witsec. I didn’t even know back then that it was what he did when he was around, it just felt right.” She shakes her head at herself. “I think he’d want me to carry on now.”

She remembers what he’d told her once, that in another life, one where they had sorted themselves out sooner and Haley had lived, he thought the two of them would have been friends. Bonding over his annoying habits, how frustrating he was to live with at times. Emily liked to think that was true.

“I don’t really know what I’m hoping for.” Emily admits as she looks at Haley’s headstone. “That he’s with you wherever you are, or that he’s somewhere waiting for me.” She wipes at her cheek with the heel of her hand, getting rid of tears she didn’t think would ever stop. ______________________

He joins her on the balcony, wrapping his arms around her from behind, pulling her back into his embrace. Emily leans against his back and smiles as he presses a kiss to the side of her head.

“Aren’t you glad I convinced you to do this?” He murmurs against her skin. He tangles their left hands together, their wedding rings hitting each other with the motion.

She tilts her head to look at him, and is unable to stop herself from kissing him, placing a hand on his cheek to keep him in place. She pulls back so their noses touch. “I’ll admit a honeymoon wasn’t the worst idea in the world.”

He kisses her again, smiling too widely against her lips for it to be more than a brush against her. “Where are you taking me first, tour guide?” ______________________

When she first wakes up she can still feel his touch on her skin, and the ghost of his lips against hers. It feels so real she half expects to turn over and find him laying next to her.

Then reality starts to kick in, the harsh truth seeping in through the lightness that her dream had created. The heaviness of her loss taking its place back in her chest. Tears blur her vision as she checks the time on the alarm clock on her nightstand.

2.30am

Emily sighs as she gets out of bed, knowing she wouldn’t sleep again that night. She grabs a box out of the nightstand as she leaves their bedroom and walks downstairs.

She sits in the living room, curled up in a blanket Aaron had bought her because she always complained how cold she was, and she opens the box. She takes their wedding rings back out and holds them in her hand, hoping she can find some of him in a ring he never wore.

______________________

She buys a long chain and loops it through his wedding ring. When she places it around her neck she feels the tiniest bit of relief when the cold metal settles between her breasts.

She slips her own wedding ring onto her finger, settling it against her engagement ring. She stares at them together for a moment and decides to leave it on.

She had already felt married to him anyway.

______________________

Emily goes back to work after Christmas. She doesn’t tell the team about her return, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. The way the bullpen practically grinds to a halt when she steps out of the elevator tells her that she had failed.

She makes it to her office without being stopped, and as she steps into the room she realises her hopes of getting away from him for a few hours, from feeling anything other than sadness wasn’t going to work. It had once been his office too. As she sits down at her desk she remembers the first time they met, how rude he was to her. She used to tease him for it, poke fun at him for how much he hadn’t wanted her around those first few months.

Emily remembers when he first left, entrusting the BAU to her. It was the first time she had walked into his office, her office, when she felt the true pressure of what he had left her. The BAU was precious to him. She had walked over to his desk and picked up his nameplate, tracing her fingers over his name and job title.

She had put it in the top drawer of her desk. At first it felt wrong to get rid of it. Some part of her sure he’d be back eventually. But then they stopped Scratch. His death the end of the danger that Jack was in, and he still didn’t come back.

After that she kept it as a memory, a talisman of sorts of the man she had more complicated feelings for than she would ever have admitted. A piece of him that she had left.

It took on new meaning when they got together. When she knew how it felt to be loved by him, to be taken apart by him. How his skin felt pressed against hers. She’d look at the nameplate when she was at work and missed him, feeling ridiculous for feeling that way when it had only been a few hours since she had last seen him.

When they got engaged, she got an idea. An ongoing joke between them, that his love of the BAU was so great he was marrying into it, that she could turn into a keepsake for him. A small wedding present she knew would have made him laugh.

Emily pulls the drawer open and looks at it, picking it up and looks at its new engraving. She runs her thumb over the words and feels the now familiar tug of pain in her chest.

Aaron Hotchner Husband of the BAU Unit Chief

There’s a knock at her door and she puts it back, wanting to keep this one thing just for her.

“Come in.”

JJ opens the door, a smile on her face that seemed forced. “Em, we didn’t know you were coming back today.”

Emily clears her throat and tries to smile at her friend, “I couldn’t stay home forever.” She sees the case file in JJ’s hand.

“Em.”

“Do we have a case?” She asks, desperation in her tone. She just wanted to be somewhere, anywhere, else.

JJ steps into the office and eyes her cautiously. “Yeah, a serial killer in Kansas.” She hands over the file and Emily reaches for it with her left hand. She doesn’t miss how JJ’s eyes land on her hand, the slight crease in her brow when she realises Emily is wearing two rings. She quickly retracts her hand, reaches for the file with her right instead.

She clears her throat and hopes JJ doesn't hear how her voice wavers. “You can brief me on the jet. Wheels up in 30.” ______________________

“You’re doing it wrong.”

Emily puts the spatula down, sighing as she turns to see him, eyes narrowing at the smug look on his face as he leans against their kitchen counter. “You could help you know.”

He closes the gap between them, places his hands on her hips and he kisses her. “Well then how will you ever learn to cook?”

“That’s what I have you for.”

He raises his eyebrows at her, places his hand under her shirt, his skin burning into hers. “Is that all I’m good for?”

She leans forward and kisses him, biting his lower lip slightly. “One of many things.” ______________________

She wakes up on the couch, unsure when she’d even fallen asleep. Emily closes her eyes in frustration, tears leaking out as soon as she opens them again. She can still feel his hand on her skin, the width of it scorched onto her back. “Damn it.” __________________

She dreams of the car crash they’d got into on their first anniversary. A car running straight into the back of them as he told her a terrible joke whilst they waited for traffic lights to change. He’d hit his head on the steering wheel and become unconscious as the car spun.

The fear she felt when he wouldn’t wake up still sat in her belly sometimes. The thought she’d lost him just as she’d got him overriding her every thought until he had woken up in the hospital several hours later, immediately concerned for her.

Emily still dreamt about it up until the day he died. Her nightmares telling her he had gone, that she was stuck in a car with his body and unable to move herself. Aaron would always soothe her awake, able to tell what had scared her just by the look on her face.

She has the dream again, but this time when she wakes she is alone.

______________________

“Don’t smile at me like that.” She whispers, running her thumb over his lower lip, marvelling in how warm it was.

His smile widens, his dimples coming out for her to trace her fingers over. “Why not?”

Her hand falls away from his face and she sighs, the sound catching in her throat. “Because this isn’t real.

______________________

When she wakes up she is angry. Tears already on her cheeks. And she misses the days when she could forget he was gone when she was dreaming. Moments when her subconscious would let her think he was still here, still beside her like he should be. ______________________

One night, around seven months in, Emily is desperate. Too many dreams about him lingering in her head, traces of him at every turn that she loves and hates in equal measure. Nothing smells like him anymore, and she realises in a harrowing moment she doesn’t even remember what he smelt like. She sprays their bed in his cologne and it’s not quite right. Whatever scent he had, something uniquely Aaron, missing.

A letter inviting her to the court date, to hear details about how he died yet again, tips her over the edge. She goes out, wanting to feel anything other than the all consuming grief that had become her normal.

A man across the bar she finds herself in keeps looking at her, throwing her looks in the dim lights. She drinks just enough to convince herself it's a good idea, that it would help.

If the fact she is wearing a wedding and engagement ring bothers him he doesn’t show it, doesn’t comment on it as she pulls him into the alley behind the bar.

The man kisses her. She moves her head, not wanting his lips pressed against hers. He presses his lips against her neck and she feels a stone drop in her stomach. His fingers trace her arm and they are too soft and she wrenches herself away from him.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this.” She walks away, ignores how he shouts that she should just go home to her husband after her, and she hails a cab. She cries the entire way home.

For the first time, for only a moment, she hates Aaron. Hates him for loving her so much, so well, that she can’t forget how it felt even for a second. ______________________

“You’re sad.”

She closes her eyes as he settles behind her in bed, wrapping his arms around her tightly. “Of course I’m sad.”

Aaron kisses the top of her head and she sighs, settling into his embrace. “You can’t be sad forever, love.”

She brings his hand up to her lips, presses them against him. Feeling his skin and the metal of his ring against her. “I don’t know how to be happy without you.” ______________________

August 2021

Emily is nervous the first time they have dinner with Jack after they get together, and Aaron finds it very endearing. She comes to his apartment and he can immediately tell she is on edge. Signs he hadn’t seen when Doyle came on the scene all those years ago. Little changes in her demeanour he had gone over in his head again and again when she was in Paris, a fake grave for her too close to where he lived that made his lungs fill with regret.

When she came back, nervous and on edge, he had purposely looked out for them. He’d seen her need to leave them before she even had, and he’d let her go, despite everything in him wanting to beg her to stay.

Aaron lets her into his apartment, explaining Jack was just on his way home from after school soccer practise, and she walks into his kitchen, helping herself to a glass of wine like she lived there. It takes all of his self control to not ask her to move in, knowing they’d only been together two months, as he watches her sit at the dining table. He sighs and sits next to her, taking a sip of the wine she passes to him, and he smiles as he realises she had poured it intending for them to share.

“Sweetheart.” He places a hand on her bouncing knee, soothing the joint with his thumb running back and forth over it. “Jack’s known you almost his entire life.” He says, not missing the way she rolls her eyes when he knows that is wrong with her without anything being said.

“I know.” She says, teeth immediately going for the cuticle on her thumb before he grabs her hand, subtly surveying the damage she had already done. “I know I’m being ridiculous. But…this is different.” She grabs his hand off her knee and links their fingers. “We’re together now. I love you. I’m not just a friend or someone you work with.”

He can sense the spiral, the self doubt seeping into her pores. “Emily.” He gently cups her face and makes her look at him. “Jack loves you. When I told him we were together, do you know what he said?” He smiles as she shakes her head at him. “He said ‘about time.’”

She laughs at that, a beautiful sound that makes his heart sing. “He didn’t.”

“He did.” He promises, kissing her firmly. “Well, he actually said ‘about fucking time’ but I told him off for cursing.”

Emily laughs again, her nerves finally seeming to uncurl and she kisses him this time, her love for him clear as she wraps her hand around the back of his neck.

Dinner goes well, and Emily becomes a pretty permanent feature in the Hotchner’s apartment after that. ______________________

The way they easily fall into their relationship surprises him. Aaron had always pictured their relationship, when he’d allowed a little bit of dangerous hope to seep in, to be fiery. Both of them too used to being alone, to being self reliant to give enough of themselves to make something work between them. But it’s not like that.

They communicate. They love each other openly. And every time she touches him, which she does almost constantly, he feels like something in him clicks into place for the first time in his life. A piece of the puzzle he didn’t realise had been missing. ______________________

Aaron wakes with his head on her chest, curled around her in a way that made it hard to determine where she ended and he began. Emily was running her hand through his hair, her short nails scratching against his scalp.

“Morning.” She says gently, her thumb skating over his temple.

Aaron doesn’t move from her chest, but tilts his head so he can look up at her. She smiles at him, adoration all over her face despite how tired she looked. “It’s unlike you to be up first.”

She hums. “Couldn’t sleep.”

He does lift his head at that, and he moves his hand from where it had been resting at her waist to cup her cheek. “Did you sleep at all?” He sighs when her answer is a shake of her head, sitting up and changing their positions so she’s resting against his chest. “You should have woken me up, baby.”

“You need your sleep too.” She grumbles, but he can feel the smile she presses into his bare chest as she protests.

“What kept you up?” He asks, his finger tracing the scar at the top of her left breast, as if he already knew the answer.

Emily rests her chin on his chest so she can look up at him, hand skirting over one of his scars. “It feels stupid, because its been so long now.” She smiles sadly. “But sometimes I feel like I’m still in that warehouse in Boston. Like part of me never left.”

“That isn’t stupid, Emily.” Aaron says firmly, catching her hand in his own. He wonders how many people had told her since Ian Doyle had torn through their lives that she needed to move on, to leave it behind her. “If anyone understands how it feels to be haunted by their past like that it’s me.”

Emily smiles at him and pushes down at his chest so she can reach up and kiss him before she lays back down. They don’t say anything else, and she certainly doesn’t get any sleep, but they spend hours just laying together that morning.

Aaron thinks, not for the first time, that they understand each other better than anyone else ever could.

______________________

He knew he’d been moody for a few days, the anniversary of Haley’s death looming over him. Aaron is shorter with her than usual, and he even ignores a couple of calls from her when she tries to check in when she’s away on a case.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to her, it was quite the opposite. She knew him well enough to pull his emotions out of him until he felt raw, and this was something he didn’t want to put on her. To make her comfort him as he grieved another woman. Emily takes to texting him instead, simply asking for a response to let her know he’s ok. He replies, just a one word text, and she leaves him alone after that.

It's very late in the evening the day before the anniversary when she lets herself into his apartment. The key he had given her only a few weeks into their relationship scraping in the door was his first sign that she was coming over. She has her go-bag slung over her shoulder, an indicator that she had only just landed and hadn’t even been home.

“Hi.” She says, a soft smile on her face that he isn’t sure he deserves.

He clears his throat, just seeing her making all the emotions he’d been suppressing climb up his chest, threatening to spill out. “Hey, Em. Look I’m-”

“I know what tomorrow is.” She interrupts, placing her bag down by the door. “You don’t have to hide it from me.”

Aaron sighs, and he rubs his hands over his eyes. Of course she remembered. She’d been on the line when Haley died, heard her final words at the same time he had. “Emily.”

She moves so she’s stood in front of him, somehow having taken her shoes off without him noticing so their true height difference is noticeable. He looks down at her and she's looking at him so kindly, her eyes full of so much love and understanding for him that he almost loses it there and then.

“Is Jack in bed?” She asks as she grabs Aaron’s hand, smiling as he nods in answer. “Let’s go to bed, love.”

She leads him to his bedroom and gets ready in silence. Getting pyjamas, that used to be his, out of the drawers that now have more of her clothes in than his, and changing quickly in front of him, encouraging him to do the same.

Emily gets into bed and sits with her back against the headboard, patiently waiting for him to join her. He does, he sits next to her and pulls the covers over them both, the chilly November air feeling sharper now he is in bed. She drags him down to her, makes him rest against her as she puts her arms around him, and that’s what makes the dam break.

Aaron rests his head on her shoulder and presses his face into her neck, trying to hide his tears from her even though he knows she’ll be able to feel them against her skin.

Emily holds him tighter to her, she cups the back of his head, her fingers tangling in his hair, and she kisses his forehead. “You’re ok, honey.” She whispers against his skin, her nose pressed against his temple. “You’re ok.”

“I’m sorry.” He apologises, looking up at her. The look of annoyance at his apology on her face almost makes him laugh despite the circumstances.

“You don’t have to apologise, Aaron. You loved her, you still do.” She says, pushing some hair off of his forehead. “Grief doesn’t just go away after a certain amount of time.”

She shifts them so they are laying down, and she curls around his back. Presses her body into him so he can feel all of her. She rubs her hand in gentle circles on his chest until he falls asleep.

When he wakes in the morning he’s curled around her, taking comfort from her kindness and her warmth. Her fingers gently skipping over his temple tells him she is already awake.

“Good morning.” She says quietly, as if she is worried she’ll disturb him.

“Morning.”

“What are you going to do today?” She asks gently, running her hand through his hair.

“What I usually do.” He says, grabbing one of her hands and linking their fingers together. “Take Jack to her grave and put flowers there. I try to think of a memory I have of her that I haven’t told him yet, give him something new about her.”

“That’s sweet.” She smiles at him, nothing but adoration for him on her face. “What did you do when you were gone?”

“There was a nice park near where we lived that she would have liked. We took flowers there. It was nice.” He reaches out and tucks some of her hair behind her ear. “Jessica told me that someone always put flowers on Haley’s grave whilst we were gone, but she never figured out who.”

“Oh.” She replies, suddenly looking unsure about something. She bites her lip before she looks at him. “That...that was me.”

He sits up suddenly, dislodging her from him. She sits up too, looking more unsure than ever, as if she was worried she had overstepped.

“Really?” He asks and she nods. “Why?”

Emily shrugs. “It just felt like the right thing to do.”

He closes the gap between them and kisses her gently, before resting his head against hers. “I love you.”

She smiles at him. “I love you too.” ______________________

They are laughing together when it happens. Sat at a junction in his car on the way to their first anniversary dinner when the car behind them doesn’t stop. The car spins, and the sound of Emily’s scream echoes around his head.

All he remembers is a sharp pain in his head, Emily trying to talk to him, and then nothing. ______________________

He wakes up to the sound of her shouting at someone. His head hurt, more than he ever remembered it hurting.

“I’m not going anywhere until he wakes up.” She says her tone a challenge to whoever she is speaking to.

Aaron opens his eyes and the room comes into focus slowly. He’s in a hospital bed, and he suddenly remembers the car accident.

“Em?”

She turns to look at him, her face softening as she looks at him. She has a bandage on her forehead, and one on her wrist. There's a small cut on her cheek that has been cleaned.

“Oh thank God.” She says, walking over from where she was standing at the end of his bed to sit on the edge of it and she grasps his hand in hers. “How are you feeling?”

His eyes flick to the nurse who was still at the end of his bed, and eyebrow raised at the pair of them before she shakes her head and walks out the room. He refocuses on his girlfriend. “My head hurts.” He lifts a hand to run a thumb over the cut on her cheek. “Are you ok?”

She scoffs. “I’m fine, they’ve already discharged me.” Emily takes a deep breath and her chin trembles. “You took the worst of it.”

“I’m ok, sweetheart.”

“Aaron. You wouldn’t wake up.” She says, her fingernails digging into his hand as she holds it tighter. “I…I was so worried.”

“Em-”

“You can’t do that to me again.” She smiles at him but it’s shaky, a tremor to her bottom lip that she doesn’t try to hide from him. “I’m too old to start over.” She jokes, lifting their joint hands to her lips to press a kiss into his skin. “And I quite like having you around. So please, no more dramatics ok? I think we’ve both been through enough.”

Aaron considers trying to reason with her. To remind her it had been a car accident, one that was completely the fault of the other driver. He couldn’t have stopped it. But she looks so upset, so wrecked by whatever had transpired between their car being hit and him waking up in hospital, that he simply nods.

“Okay, love.” He can’t help but smile back when she smiles brilliantly at him. “I’ll do my best.” He kisses her, but the movement strains his chest making him groan. “We may have to take a raincheck on our anniversary plans.” ______________________

It’s another month before they can actually celebrate their anniversary. Jack is with Jessica for the night, having made a crass comment about giving Aaron and Emily space that made both of them blush and the teenager laugh.

He makes her dinner, her favourite pasta accompanied by a wine she likes. They share a glass despite not needing to, sitting pressed together on his couch. That's when he asks her to move in with him.

He’s ready for a fight over it. Arguments in his head are already planned where he tells her she spends most of the time at his place anyway, that he can’t remember the last time they spent apart when she wasn’t away on a case. That when she says the word ‘home’ it never means her own apartment anymore.

Emily agrees immediately, smiling widely at him as she climbs into his lap. Kissing him as she asks him what took so long to ask her.

They barely make it to the bedroom, him pressing her against the wall, not wanting to wait another second until he’s inside of her. Her laugh turns into a moan, and any quip she had about him being too old to fuck her that way dies on her lips as he does exactly that.

He carries her to the bed afterwards, holding her close to his chest, his hands running up and down her spine. He hopes she sleeps. The car crash they had been in had featured in most of her dreams recently, her waking up and thinking he was dead. It always took him time to calm her down, to remind him that he was right there.

“Aaron?” She murmurs, half asleep against him.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Let’s find somewhere new.” She turns her head to press a kiss into his chest. “I’ve always wanted a house. A small garden where I can fail at growing vegetables.”

He laughs against the top of her head before pressing a kiss there. “Whatever you want, Em. Let’s find somewhere to call home.”

She’s mostly asleep. The way her words fall unbidden from her but slurred together give her away. “You are my home.”

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfic #hotchniss fanfiction #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #angst #just so much angst #Riptide

41 notes · View notes

ignorantarmiesclashbynight · 3 years

Text

Whumptober Day 1: barbed wire

The wire sliced into his skin like a snakebite, its barbs latching on and pulling tight into the flesh of his thigh, his side, his arm, ripping tears into his brand new shirt and all. Dutch’d given him that shirt just last week and he’d be givin’ him an earful for bleeding all over it, too.

Arthur hadn’t seen the barbed wire in the dark of the moonless night, making a hurdling leap over the fence only to find himself tangled half way, yelping as the fence fought back with tooth and nail. He tried to jerk free reflexively, but only succeeded in driving the barbs deeper and twisting himself up even further. He hissed in a breath and let it out slowly, feeling hot lines of blood beginning to run from each wound, his eyes darting in the darkness for signs that he was still being pursued.

He and Hosea had made a clean enough getaway from the storehouse—the old man’d taken the wagon with the goods and Arthur’d run a distraction through the fields, tailed by a handful of trigger happy guards. He was pretty sure he’d lost ‘em, making an erratic loop around the property and crawling his way through the waving lines of crops until he made it to the fence, but he could hear the distant shouts of men and see the wavering glow of lantern light across the farmland. If they caught him like this, stuck like a damn pincushion…

The pain was starting to seep through the adrenaline now, cold and sharp, twinging with every tiny movement. He felt like a rabbit in a trap, twitching itself tighter and tighter in blind panic, and forced himself to stay calm, to carefully follow the trail of wire with a shaky hand and pull the hooks free, one by one. The sound of footsteps was coming nearer now; the swish of cornstalks being pushed aside as the guards methodically scoured the fields. Blood slicked over his fingers, making them slip, making them sticky—his whole left arm burning with stinging punctures as he finally pulled it free. Jesus, how many times had this fence bitten him?

He risked another pause, another deep breath. He could see the outline of figures in the lantern light, a few hundred paces off—they hadn’t seen him yet, but they were steadily closing in. He had to move faster.

A grunt tore out of him as he grabbed hold of the wire and yanked. Three more bastard hooks; an almighty great tear in the side of his shirt; his ribs wet with sweat and blood. His head reeled and he swayed in the metal spiderweb, grabbing hold of the fence post to stop himself falling back against the barbs he’d just freed himself from. If Dutch was gonna make a fuss about his shirt, Grimshaw was gonna make double the fuss over all the stitches she’d have to put into him when he got back to camp…

He swallowed thickly. Just his leg to go now, and he could tell without even looking that it was the worst of all, the wire twisted tight around the meat of his upper thigh. An involuntary whimper escaped his throat as he tentatively pulled at it, feeling the barbs scrape against the flesh. Six inches higher and he’d have really had something to yell about, though, so… y’know. Small blessings.

Still, he wasn’t out of it yet. And the trampling of the guards was coming ever closer. He peppered his trembling hands with fresh cuts and scratches as he scrabbled desperately at the remaining wire, a deep aching pain running through his thigh as those metal teeth bit deeper and deeper the more he struggled. His breath was coming ragged now—just like his shirt. Maybe this was worse than he’d thought…

He was just about to pull out his knife when a hand came down firm on his shoulder and a familiar voice shushed in his ear. Arthur flinched, barely managing to bite down the cry of pain the movement cost him, and craned his neck sideways to see Hosea frowning down out of the darkness.

“Thought you might’ve come across some sort of mischief… What on earth have you gotten yourself into, Arthur?”

Hosea’s careful fingers skimmed over the line of the fence and his concern deepened as he saw the fast-blossoming bloodstains on Arthur’s leg.

“Hosea,” Arthur whispered hoarsely, his eyes on the crop line, one hand on his holster. “They’re comin’…”

“Yes, yes, they’re going to have to wait,” Hosea murmured, making a few calculations in his head and then resting one foot on the wire just above Arthur’s leg. “And I’m afraid this is going to hurt, my boy.”

“Wait, wha–?”

Hosea pressed his whole weight down on the fence and for a second Arthur thought he was going to pass out from the scything pain that ripped through his thigh. But then Hosea’s hands were deftly untangling the wire and the pressure lifted so suddenly that Arthur’s legs just plain gave out on him, and he tumbled sideways into the ditch below the fence.

Hosea make an approving tick of his tongue and crouched beside him, scooping up a fist-sized rock from the dusty ground and launching it with an easy overarm toss across the field towards a little wooden tool shed. Arthur heard the thunk of the rock hitting its target; the scuffling of feet from within the cornfield; the hushed discussion of the guards as they headed off in the direction of the shed, barely three paces away from discovering Arthur’s sorry ass.

He didn’t dare make a sound, even though his chest was heaving and he couldn’t keep himself from panting as the pain in his leg turned hot, then cold, then started throbbing in time with his heartbeat. He clamped his hands around his thigh and felt the warm pulse of blood between his fingers, a low growl in his throat, teeth clenched tight.

Hosea pulled him up to sitting and gave him a hearty slap on the back that set every tiny cut twinging. “Think you can hop your way to the treeline?” he said, nodding to a small wood the other side of the fence. “Wagon’s hidden just inside.”

Arthur nodded grimly, though he suspected what blood was left in his head would rush right out of it the moment he got to his feet. He could feel Hosea’s shrewd eyes on him and he nodded again, forced a grumbling ‘yeah, sure’ out of his mouth.

Hosea didn’t look convinced. And there was an edge of worry in his eyes as he cast another glance over Arthur’s leg.

“Trust you to get yourself trussed up like a goddamn Christmas ham…” he muttered, waving Arthur’s hands away and replacing with them his scarf which he tied tight around the wound like a tourniquet. “Always knew you had the same sense as an ox, running into barbed wire… Honestly, Arthur…”

Arthur’s wincing turned to a low chuckle as the old man continued his griping, hauling him up to his feet and wrapping an arm over his shoulder as they made a slow limping beeline for the trees. His head whirled but Hosea kept him upright, one agonising step at a time, chiding at him like a wayward child, even though Arthur was a good foot taller than him these days.

If he didn’t care so much about you, he wouldn’t bother tellin’ you what a damn fool you are, Grimshaw’d once said, when Arthur had dared complain about Hosea’s fussing. And so he took it as a sign of affection as the old man shoved him (as gently as possible) into the back of the wagon.

“Might as well tear that shirt into bandages,” Hosea muttered as he climbed up onto the cab, and Arthur could hear the grin in his voice. “Better to destroy all the evidence than let Dutch see it like that, huh?”

Arthur stuck his bloody fingers through a rip that ran from his elbow to his wrist and yanked the whole sleeve off with one sharp tug. “Yup,” he sighed, smirking a little himself at the thought of Dutch’s outraged expression—and the frowning concern that would come after it as he saw just how much blood’d come out of his boy. “You’re probably right.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Little late to this but trying to catch up over the next few days! Requests more than welcome (prompt list is here) and I’ll be sticking these up on AO3 too.

#whumptober2021 #no.1 #barbed wire #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #fic #blood #arthur morgan #hosea matthews #whump

12 notes · View notes

oh-for-fic-sake · 4 years

Text

The Stand In Chapter One

Masterlist

Being an assistant on the witcher set is a dream come true for you, helping bring to life the books and games you were brought up with. But when the project is threatened to be cancelled completely your called in to save the day! But can you really fill in for an actress?

Warnings: swearing

A/N: hello! So this was wrote on a whim sort of. I don't know if Keira is in the books honestly and I have no idea if she will be in season two but I wanted to write somthing different. Got a few ideas of where I can go with this but like I said just wanted to write something a little different. Hone you enjoy xxx

Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters @thatgirly81 @angelofthorr @iloveyouyen

logo divider is by @writeyourmindaway other one is by me xx

You moved through the hustle and bustle of the set your trusty clipboard what was you doing? Well the people needed feeding so you were taking orders, some people onset would eat at the food tent some would want to order in today it was your turn to take the orders and deliver them to the chefs. You grunted looking at your watch you needed to move quicker they'd be filming soon and expect the food to be ready by the time they finished...sounded easy but the guys were cooking meals for nearly one hundred people and that took time... especially out here... You jogged up to the tent with an apologetic smile"Sorry guys had to round em up you know how it is!" You got a few chuckles. Yes they did know how it was having to take turns doing it themselves. You were just a regular onset dogs body, you help in any way shape or form and that’s that.

You smiled at them hanging the clip board on the hook for them to see clearly then They began barking orders to one another down the line getting to work. You left them to it weaving in and out of everyone to get back to set incase someone needed anything again. Once you reached half way across the site your name was called turning you saw Mathew one of the other assistants.

"Hey y/n your needed in the directors tent chop chop!"

"What? why?" He shrugged then through his hands out wide walking backwards away from you he seemed in a hurry.

"Don't know was just told that you had to be there asap" You sighed and quickly turned on your heal towards the tent...If this was another coffee run you were gonna scream! It took forty five minutes to drive down this god forsaken mountain and you didn't really want to be bitched at by camera crew about delivering a cold fucking coffee again.

Henry and Joey panicked looking to each other Cancelled? They could be cancelled after all the fans and money the show had pulled in? They stood in the tent with Tomasz,Lauren and Talitha or 'Tee' as she prefers.

"So she just decided not to do it? A week before she was meant to be here? She had all the time over lock down to tell you and she left it till now?" Tomasz nodded stiffly to Henry who spoke, Henry and Joey were angry. Hell they all was, but them more so because they were actors and this was something you just didn't do. No integrity or respect. Lauren piped up.

"To be fair its a huge blockbuster role she was offered its no surprize she dumped us in favor of it... But now everything is up in the air she was a big role in this season and we can't start casting for it now, the two other back ups can't come and fill in either, one is recovering from covid and the other has a contract for another role." Joey placed his hands on his hips

"Well what about her contract? She sighed one didn't she? Surely she should honor that?" Lauren and Tomasz shared a look.

"Yes but two things one imagine forcing her to play a role she no longer wants...Could be very awkward and two the contract had dates...We couldn't stick to the them so she managed to wriggle out of it." They each huffed Henry spoke up

"Can't we put it on hold for a few weeks rush through the casti-" he trailed off at Tomasz' severe look and shake of his head.

"No we aren't being given an extension we have to find someone...Preferably here on set so we don't have to navigate the covid travel restrictions, we can't afford two weeks quarantine for whoever it is we bring in" Tee looked up to her bosses.

"So?...You need someone on set to take the role? I suppose they can't be a major part of the crew?" Lauren nodded to her and smiled

"You up for it?" Tee shook her head

"Fuck no but there is someone that could do it...Y/n shes a general assistant, the one you like! the one that picked up the wardrobe the other day when the truck couldn't get up the hill" Lauren's face lit up as she put a face to the name

"Oh! lilac bob? Green eyes?" Tee smiled nodding

"Yeah! Her she isn't to busy really just runs errands, shes an extra pair of hands" Tomasz tilted his head it sounded viable, it would be a god send he crossed his arms.

"But she would have what a week? To read up on the character, learn lines and go through costume...It would be a hectic rush would she agree to it?" Tee smiled knowingly

"Yes..She hasn't done acting before...well not properly she had a part in bugsy malone play at primary school but that was about it...But I have no doubt that she would do it she loves the witcher. As for reading up on the character you don't have to worry I dread to think how many times shes re-read those books and played the games...She even based her gcse textiles project on the witcher making a screen print tapestry! Trust me she will know Keira metz' personality so half of the job is already done!" Tomasz nodded secretly getting excited over the prospect of having another fan in the mix, yet he covered it well not wanting to get anyone’s hopes to high."Okay call her in get her to read some lines...Lets not tell her what its for first see if theres some chemistry between the three of you first then go from there" they all nodded it was the best way to go about it.

When you got to the tent you instantly knew something was up. First person you noticed was your best friends Tee it was her who'd got you the job here. She had been working on the first season and was one of the directing assistants she was always around the producers and directors making sure everything was running smoothly and when they top dogs changed things it was her who made those changes get through the grape vine to everyone who needed to know. Then you noticed Henry and Joey were here ,how you didn't see them first is a mystery as they were both fully kitted out in the characters costumes.

Holy shit! He was so fucking hot! So so fucking yummy you wanted to jump him and run away and hide at the same time 'Okay breath don't fucking squeal bitch be cool that's it calm down don't make it obvious you want to hump his leg!...If he offers though ride tat thigh like a fucking pony!...No! Stop your going red! Calm it! There we go...Nice and calm well done give yourself a pat on the back' and breath.

You took a calming breath after your little pep talk the fan-girl locked up tight inside you relaxed slightly. Could you help it? No Henry is like your celebrity crush and has been since your little virgin eyes saw him fucking on Tudors. You'd seen him around set obviously you can't really ignore the huge man in the silver wig. You’d wanted to get his autograph and a photo but couldn't trust yourself not to do something stupid so you kept your distance. But damn he was much finer up close in person. You gulped just praying to god you did not squeak at him you'd never ever live it down.

Everyone looked on edge even the director Tomasz and producer Lauren? none of them noticed your arrival speaking in hushed tones to one another like they didn't want anyone to overhear what was happening. You cleared your throat placing a hand on one of the metal supports by the entrance of the tent unsure if you should enter with them all looking so serious you didn't want to hear anything you shouldn't.

"Err knock knock? you wanted to see me? If its a bad time I can come back..." they jumped a little obviously caught up in their conversation. You shrunk under everyone's gaze as the sets of heavy eyes rested on you.

Henry's eyes widened a little at you he swallowed dryly peering at you from his spot in the tent. You were beautiful he suddenly found himself hoping you would be the one to take the role. Not only could he then have a reason to be around you without you running off. But there were sex scene between the two characters and as ashamed as he felt he had already spent a considerable amount of time envisioning just that, alone at night in his trailer with nothing but his fist to ease his needs. He couldn't help it he had never spoke to you but he wanted you. So selfish or not he would thoroughly enjoy enacting those particular scenes, the image of you below him was just to much.

Joey prodded him slightly making him snap his gaze away and turn to the 'bard' He raised his brows at him nodding to the lilac haired woman as if to say 'look who it is?' Henry flushed a little and blinked yes Joey knew.

It started when Henry had seen you around set, capturing glimpses of you he had wanted to go and talk to you. Each time he saw you around he would excuse himself from whatever he was doing and turn to make his way over to you. But every time he turned and took a step in your direction you flushed and bolted.

He did like you. He liked very much. He found out you were an assistant someone to run errands and Tee had got you the job he was meant to ask her about you but you both seemed close. What if Tee told you? What would you think if you found out he had been asking about you?. So no instead he bit his tongue and kept trying to catch you out and have a chat. He couldn't put his finger on it you just appealed to him, you looked sweet and sexy all in one.

He wanted so desperately to talk to you but you seemed scared of him for some reason so he in the end he settled for admiring you from afar. He'd never got more than six feet near you and that six feet was close enough to make him swoon. You had been diligently taking coffee orders around the set and was taking a list from the directors tent and he was waiting to speak to Tomasz and Lauren queuing behind you in a sense one person separated you.

You were so caught up in trying to take names and coffee orders you hadn't noticed him hovering behind you. He had leaned to the side taking full advantage enjoying eyeing your behind admiring the taught cheeks hugged by your zebra print workout leggings, you must have been in a thong because they snuck up your ass a little making him groan. He'd give anything to be up there himself! He sighed smoothing his hands over his face trying to push away the teasing thoughts, it was not the time to imagine drilling your perfect little ass, fucking you roughly on all fours until your little body sucked the cum out of his balls and he left you with a fully stretched freshly fuck little pucker.

No it was not the time, not when he had another few scenes to shoot. But they were just there! Teasing him a few quick shuffles of his feet and he could be right behind you, he could accidentally graze your pert full bottom. But no he held himself back he groaned when the wind changed and caught a scent of your hair mango and passion fruit.

He had been on a high all day after that. That’s when Joey was certain Henry was getting a little crush on the lilac haired beauty that had gained the nick name Tink's. To Joey you looked like a real life colorful little fairy and he had named you after Tinkerbell. Henry bit his lip trying to contain his excitement, as you cleared your throat nervously today was going from really really bad to absolutely fucking incredible.

You eyed Henry carefully he was..staring well until Joey prodded him then he snapped out of whatever it was flushing. You didn't have much time to consider it as Lauren moved waving you over smiling like nothing was wrong. Okay? Weird.

"No no! Come in your just the woman we needed to see." You walked in slowly still uneasy but managed to cross the threshold. There was a pause and they looked like they were appraising you? What the fuck? Tomasz cleared his throat and nodded giving Lauren the go ahead for something apparently.

"Y/n I was hopeing you could go over some lines with these two, they haven't got anyone to practice with and we really need to start getting rehearsals in. Flights are running few and far between so the actress who was supposed to be here last week, can't get here until we are actually filming the scenes!" You blinked huh? Read lines? You began going shy and shaking your head

"I don't-" but before you could get anymore words out Tomasz spoke up.

"And with covid setting us back we can't afford delays we could be cancelled" you froze at that...Cancelled? You looked to Henry and Joey who both gave hopeful puppy eyes you sighed a shaky breath.

"O-okay I suppose I could...Help out... It is what I'm here for.." You missed the looks all four shared as Joey handed you a sheet from the script. You skimmed it as quick as you could and your face instantly lit up with a bright smile.

"Holy shit keira? I didn't realize you were doing that-" quickly realizing you may have been fangirling you shut up. Tomasz head lifted smiling

"You know the character?" You chuckled nervously well aware of The witcher still eyeing you from the side. Joey smirked at him and gave a chuckle making Henry freeze and look away flustered. You hesitated whilst talking to Tomasz.

"Hehe well Yeah sort of....I know the book's and the games sooo yeah..Sorry...Got excited there..Can't help it" he grinned shaking his head.

"No no its perfectly fine...I do always love seeing people et excited over our work! But you know her so can help the guys immensely. If you could try and portray the character that would help a lot as well, so we can see how these lines and dynamics will work" you blinked looking at the page going blank. Try to in act the scene to? Okay keira what do you remember shes...Playful catty and a little manipulative.Petty but confident yet can switch to cold bitch on a dime. Your not sure our up to the task.

"So? You want me to try and act properly? but...But bare in mind I'm not an actress...Never done any acting or anything so if I'm shit I apologize."

"Its fine, just try your best...We don't want a carbon copy of the games we want a believable character, just create your own Keira for the time being as I said we just want that feeling for the scene and the relationship that's all. If you could read from half way down..'Seriously I mean this is it?' Okay? don't mind the blank we just haven't settled on the last few bits of dialog just keep going...Go with the flow as it were" you nodded taking a breath really out of your comfort zone but it literally said 'help when needed' in your job description so you didn't have much choice. You took a peek at the lines it the scene was based around the camp at night.

Henry and Joey sat on stools you followed their lead really nervous trying not to steal glances or stare at the witcher before you even if he didn't seem to care himself, his gold eyes not leaving you for a second, he wasn't even blinking.

You pulled at the page slightly forcing back the anxiety but sucked it up when were you ever going to get the chance to do this again. To read lines with your crush on set in full delicious Witcher get up.You decided to throw caution to the wind and give it your all if you looked a tit well atleast you had fun and you'd never have to again!

You gulped you were supposed to start. You took a breath and pulled some confidence out of your ass, she was a fierce woman that was almost childlike. You used a sarcastic un-amused flat tone.

"Seriously....I mean this is it? this is the great adventuring? Wandering the continent aimlessly for contract's that may or may not be actual monsters..." you tilted your head to the side blinking slowly as you looked between Henry and Joey. Both seemed to be caught unaware as you transformed from a frightened quivering ball of nerves to a catty confidant sorceress.

Henry smiled cheekily at you knowing that with that transformation you'd already bagged the role, you were his keira.

"Well you are welcome to return to your healing house" Henry drolled in Geralt's deep voice sounding unimpressed tilting his head at you slightly with a bored expression. Joey hummed.

"Yes I second that witch you don't have to be here you can just go your own way" he waved his hand near you and you leaned in giving him a wicked warning grin making him pull back and lean towards Henry, a typical Jaskier move...Well for the moment he was Jaskier.

"G-go and curse children poison or cattle or whatever it is you do" you scoffed rolling your eyes pulling back a little and tilted your head looking at Henry.

"Geralt your Jester appears to be in a foul mood would you like me to help? I'm sure I have a remedy that can silence him for a while...Permanently if you'd like" you smirked as Joey snpped his head looking between the two worriedly.

"JESTER I-YOU I am a bard! And I have made Geralt here the famed white wolf! Tell her Geralt! " Henry rolled his eyes ignoring Joey's out burst

"The Jester is right you don't have to travel with us you can leave, return home if our adventures aren't exciting enough for you. And I'd warn you keep the potions to yourself" you paused the page was now empty. You too a breath and spoke anyway.

"What? Me leave? and go back to treating the lords son and his frequent bouts of cock rot..." the two men bite back a laugh managing to stay in character...Just. You blinked leaning forward placing your face on your palm

"That’s not as thrilling as one might think loses its charm on the third and forth round...Much like the boy himself" Joey sputtered trying to hide his giggles. But contained himself to make an insulting Jaskier quip.

"Cock rot...begs the question do you cause it or cure it?" he twitched waiting for your reply. You hissed at him then calmed yourself and fluttered your eyes at him and continued in a sultry tone.

"Your welcome to find out for yourself Jester" he stuttered going red

"I-i a no hah thank you for the offer but noooo...Had enough of witches for a life time.. Thank you very much!" he said almost choking on his words you leaned back huffing

"Hmm...Shame you almost look like fun could have livened up the trip...I do always enjoy the loud ones..." Joey chuckled and looked to Henry with a face saying 'help me out here buddy' Henry was finding it very hard to keep himself together, was he jealous of you flirting with joey? Yes did he want to turn the tables? Yes could he think of a way to do it? Fuck no.

He settled for shaking his head, he was certain you had the role already and if not he was definitely going to vouch for you,you were good and portrayed Keira well enough to make Joey's Jaskier fidget which Keira did.

"I'm sure you can find fun where ever you find yourself Keira" Henry piped in wanting to see where the scene can go, wanting for you to give him your sultry voice and flirt with him. But you stuttered a little his gaze was intense hot and hooded.

"Y-yes you'd think that!..But there is no fun to be had at home anymore!...Well that's not strictly true there is this one acquaintance a deaf eunuch " Henry spoke up needing to hear the end of this one, trying to fight off his disappointment that you hadn't given him the same treatment as Joey, didn't you like him? Was Joey more your type? No there must be more to it.

"And this deaf eunuch is fun? How so?" you wiggled your eyebrows at him

"Well Witcher he only had one way to show me his gratitude...Any man who only has his hands to speak develops a very....dexterous set of fingers~" Joey slipped out of character confused as Henry burst out laughing. Despite his sour feelings over your non-flirting he couldn't deny that was a funny and well thought out bit of improv.

"Deaf eunuch? F-fingers?..I don't get it-OOHHH!HOLY SHIT YOU DIDN'T! OHH OH MY FUCK" he then started roaring with laughter with Henry making you go shy blushing.

"Oh my god yes...She is definitely the one we need...Defiantly my Keira!" Henry wheezed through his laughter leaning over slapping his knee.

"huh what?" You looked between everyone what do the mean need? It was Tomasz was nodding smiling and spoke up clarifying what Henry had meant.

"That was....Well...It was an audition and you got the part. You became the character very easily it was natural and flowed nicely and you were nervous once relaxed you will make a perfect Keira!" you blinked at him. An audition? For a part in the show "Are you having a laugh? I can't act for shit...Like that was...It was err" Henry smirked lifting a brow

"Acting? Maybe?" You blushed at him as he leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees. You leaned back sitting upright then pulled a face. He was right technically.

"Okay it was kind of acting....But why are you doing this here now? Surely you already have someone? this don't strike me as normal." Lauren sighed

"No your right its not normal...The actress who was playing Keira has pulled out we have a week to find a replacement or will are probably getting cancelled they won't let us delay again" you sat up pin straight

"Wait what? An actress bailed on us last minuet...That’s a bit of a dick move... That's like a big dick move not in a nice big dick way either... Like a dick dick move" Henry and Joey snorted at your statement and Tee creased up. Tomasz moved over to you

"I'm afraid so...I know its a big ask but were were supposed to start filming her scenes the middle of next week and we need a replacement. Fast. Sooo what would you say to stepping in and saving the day? you fit the bill and your here now and from what I've just seen you can do it...You gave her a cheeky, petty vibe which in all honesty was missing from who we selected...We can get you ready I'm sure Henry and Joey can help you, teach you the tricks of the trade so to speak" he lifted his head to the both of them. They nodded Henry speaking up

"I can even mentor you if you want, to get you more comfortable... Me and Joey will look after you I promise" you gulped then looked back to Lauren and Tomasz. You'd never even thought of acting or anything and it was daunting prospect.

"Look...We have run into a problem that could potentially bring production and filming to a halt...Something that could cancel season two completely....But you can help us. We can continue as planned but we understand its a big thing to spring on someone .We can afford to give you a few days to think it over if you need to..." you took a breath it sounded incredible, like one of those talent scout tales...Could you do it? You didn't want to see the show go down the pan you loved the first season as a viewer and was over the moon when Tee got you the job onset. You loved the witcher as a whole...Maybe helping bring it to life could be fun? A lot of work and you didn't know shit but you could give it a go. But then you’d be working close with Henry who pretty much turned you into a fucking trembling mass of girly hormones "...But I'm not an actress...I doubt I'd be any good.." Tee snorted

"Fuck off 'not an actress', acting is a big expensive game of pretend! And no offense but you've been pretending to be an adult since we left school! You've got this besides everyone will know your situation so if things go pear-shaped or you get confused we can all help sort you out, we wont scream at you over it..." she moved standing between Joey and Henry squishing their faces

"Come on loooook! Look at there poor little faces! Don’t let Jaskier and Geralt die! If we get cancelled that’s what will happen! These charters will die! I will take them out back and shoot them myself! Never to be seen again!" You giggled at her antic as both men in her grasp tried their hardest to pout up at you with there scrunched up faces. You sighed you were gonna regret this.

"Okay okay fine I will try... But don't say I didn't warn you.." everyone took a deep breath relived. Henry and Joey shared a grin now super excited to carry on with the show. Henry more so then Joey he was ecstatic! He can't wait to start getting close to you.

Lauren moved over to you with some long ass looking scripts.

"Here...These are for you! Start reading through these today...Do one episode at a time for now you'd have more chance learning the lines and you need to go to costume. Tee could you tell them whats happened and get her over there today? let them measure her up luckily it's mostly lace up so shouldn't have to change much" Henry stood up quickly making you jump.

"I will take her and introduce her to everyone...I’m finished for the day so I’m going there anyway" he explained a little sheepish realizing he may have seemed eager. Joey chuckled at him Standing beside him patting the mans back Tomasz shook his head

"Thank you for the offer Henry but we still need you were going to re shoot one of the scenes again, we think there is a better angle we could get" Henry pouted chest deflating a little and nodded to the director

"Right so Tee you escort her , oh where are you staying by the way? In the hotel in town? Well we will need to move you into Keira’s trailer so you'd be onset. Tee could you show her the trailer first then wardrobe and then finally I will pop over with a contract for you this afternoon..." you froze. Contract?. What the fuck? You don't know anything about contracts! Henry caught on to your panic and lit up like Christmas finding another way he could spend time with you.

"Hey its okay...Just a bit of paper saying you've got the job and a bit of legal jargon...I can look over it with you and have my agent look over it if you want? just to be sure everything's good okay? don't worry we will take good care of you I promised didn't I?" You smiled shyly and nodded. 'Holy shit he's looking at you, speak girl stop fucking staring! SPEAK! BREATH!' You took a breath avoiding his gaze a little trying to forget who he was wanting to act cool when you did finally speak it was in a quiet voice.

"I-I Suppose so...I mean yes I'd appreciate someone sorting that out..I get the feeling there are a lot of big words involved" Joey laughed you liked Henry, he could see it and something told him you would both become very close. Well close he estimated you'd be fucking within two weeks. He noted the fact you had both gone quiet Henry's eyes boring into you again as you fiddled with script in your hand. He rolled his eyes you were blushing squirming under the witchers staring gold orbs and he didn't seem to care he was just quite happy to gawk at you. Joey finally decided to cut you so e slack.

"Your not kidding...But like Henry said nothing to bad just a you got the job! And how your being paid really" you chuckled rubbing your neck.

"Fuck! haha you know I didn't even think of that" Tomasz chuckled and nodded. Breaking his silence, he to had noticed the tension between the two of you but would say nothing it wont be a problem after all there was a sexual atmosphere between Geralt and Keira so it would do well on screen.

"Well your an actress now, so of course you'll be paid as an actress, it will be in the paper work, I suggest you go and start reading the scripts Keira is heavily involved in this season she is travelling with Geralt and Jaskier for a while... And a word of advice I'm going to have to take your name to a few higher ups with the video of your audition and names on official websites for the cast will be changed, probably in a day or two...You may want to go and clean up any social media ect that you might have...It could blow up a little bit its...What we are doing is pretty much unheard of" you frowned at him

"You...You filmed that? What? who?" Tee waved her phone up at you gaining your attention.

"Its fine y/n just need it for the records and for a few others to see..." she turned to Lauren

"Might be an idea to put this up somewhere to just to introduce her as the character..." Lauren shook her head

"Not yet get her in costume then a few photos we can film a short teaser scene with them...That can be her debut" Tee nodded and began making a list of things to do then snapped her head up looking at you.

"Seriously change your face book to friends only...And get a fucking twitter on that thought get a bloody snapchat and Instagram to! Okay? life will be easier trust me on this" Henry frowned at you stumped.

"You don't have twitter, Snapchat or Instagram?....No what? How have you? What do you do all day on your phone?" You shrugged and smiled impishly at him.

"I read...Write...Scroll tumblr for hours on end and play games...Never bothered with that social media crap don't know how to use it...Was on tumblr for years before I ever got the courage to post something" Joey smiled taking a step forward and patted your back

"Well at least you have Tumblr which I will want by the way! But never mind about the others I will show you cos your gonna need it!" You smiled at him giggling maybe this wont be so bad? You nodded at him feeling more at ease, it sounded like they were going to help you with all this shit, the only thing you had to do was keep the inner Cavill fangirl at bay, which was gonna be a hell of a job now that you weren't going to be able to avoid him but it was that or watch this show be cancelled and that was not going to happen!. You looked over to Lauren who was still giving Tee a list of jobs and people to contact.

"Okay...So where do I start?" She smiled and quickly stood in front of you as you stood between Joey and Henry both pointing out on the scripts certain things explaining what things meant and how things would work when filming. You nodded trying to take it all in. You took a breath looks like you were doing this.

#henry cavill fic #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x ofc #witcher geralt #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia #geralt x y/n #geralt x you

688 notes · View notes

voiceless-terror · 4 years

Text

Pinning it Down

@aspecarchivesweek Day One: Pride

Characters: Jonathan Sims/Georgie Barker

Jon fiddles with the pin in his hand.

He and Georgie had only been dating for six months. They were still getting to know each other, at least, from Jon’s perspective. When she suggested going to the pride parade he’d blanched- the concept itself was fine, of course he supported it. But the crowd, the noise, being surrounded by drunk college students on a hot day; well, it wasn’t really his scene. Georgie must have read the hesitation in his face and quickly changed track, instead suggesting a quiet brunch with a few friends from class.

Georgie’s friends, not his. They tolerate him well enough, but he can see they’re perplexed by Georgie’s choice in partner. Quiet, pedantic, acerbic Jon. That’s what they think of him, he’s sure of it.

He’d had one friend before Georgie. It was his first year, he’d felt even more out of place than he did in Bournemouth, surrounded by kids eager to socialize and participate. Jon was in the library at some forced mixer, mumbling his way through ice breakers and trying to ignore the titters his answers brought. But he’d caught the eye of one girl from the floor below his; tall, with long brown hair and a wicked gleam in her eyes. She barked out a laugh at one of his answers, gave a commiserating smirk. He smiled tentatively back.

From that moment on Maria latched on to him, despite his many efforts to push her away. She was one of those people for whom intimacy came naturally. She studied with him in the library, they bantered back and forth over drinks she’d dragged him to, attended shitty concerts together where Jon had to duck out early, too overwhelmed by the flashing lights and sweaty bodies. She was easy-going, quick with a laugh and even quicker with a smile. It was nice to have someone who appreciated him, flaws and all.

One night over too many drinks, he confessed to her- he’d never felt that pull you were supposed to, that primal attraction that seemed to govern the lives of those around him. He confessed it like a dirty secret, something you kept close to the chest. But she just nodded, gave him a tap on the wrist as she always did when he got nervous. “My girlfriend’s asexual too,” she said, in the most nonchalant of tones. “You want another round?”

He blinked. He’d done his own research as a teenager, trying to find out what made him so different and how he could ‘fix’ it. There weren’t many resources back then, and though he’d seen some helpful information he felt too nervous to delve deeply. He’d heard the term only in science class, and he didn’t like the connotations that brought. But to hear someone use it so casually, as if it was something to be accepted, something completely normal, almost made him weep with relief. Here was someone like him, in a relationship with Maria, who was practically his idol in all things.

The next day she passed him a pin in class: black, grey, white and purple. “My girlfriend’s got a ton of ‘em, thought you might like.” Later that night he stared at it, turning it over in his hand. He thought of putting it on his backpack, but instead decided to tuck it away in his drawer.

At the end of the semester, Maria transferred to a different university to be closer to her girlfriend. She made him promise to keep in touch, but, well- Jon’s never been good at that.

And now here he is, standing at Georgie’s door as she laces up her boots. Her fingernails are painted pink, purple, and blue, just like Jon’s. She’s even convinced him to let her braid his hair, threading it with similarly colored ribbons. It looks nice, Jon has to admit, and he found he liked the feeling of her fingers in his hair. She’s much more flashily dressed, but bright colors have never been Jon’s style.

“What’ve you got there?” Before he can protest, Georgie’s grabbed the pin out of his hand, staring down at it with some consideration. He sees something briefly flicker in her eyes- a dawn of understanding, and what he hopes isn’t disappointment. Georgie’s face is anything but unreadable most times, she wears her emotions plainly for all to see. But Jon’s not so sure of his ability to decipher them now, not with all of these thoughts rushing through his brain at hyper-speed.

“I-I really-” he begins to babble, hands fluttering nervously as the silence stretches on. “I should’ve told you, I mean-”

Georgie interrupts him with a gentle hand to his chest, pulling at his sweater. He looks down to find her delicately pinning the button to his chest, right above his heart. He shivers at the carefulness of it, looking up to meet her eyes.

“Yes,” she says, each word considered. “You should’ve.” His heart drops and he anticipates her next words, as heartbreaking as they will be.

“I want you to feel like you can trust me with these things,” she continues, and Jon pauses in his panic. What? “I sort of figured, honestly- you’ve been quite the gentleman these past six months. Even when I came on to you in that bar.”

Jon remembers that night. How could he forget? He’d never had someone approach him, want him so brazenly. It was strange. “You’re not mad?” His voice is tentative, though luckily clear of its usual stutter.

“No.” She shakes her head, her hand dropping from its place on his chest. “I just wish you’d told me, but- communication’s not our strong suit, is it?”

Jon lets out a weak laugh. “No, it isn’t.”

“We’ll just have to work on that. And maybe discuss boundaries, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I know you’re fine with cuddling-”

“Yes, please. Don’t stop that.”

“I won’t,” she laughs, taking his hand in hers. “But we can talk about this after brunch.” She looks down at their hands, suddenly unsure of herself, her grip loosening. “Is...this is okay, right?”

The trepidation in her tone is so uncharacteristic, completely foreign to him. They’ve done this a million times, but he finds the sudden hesitance almost sweet in its own way. She’s assessing his comfort level, making sure he’s not just going along with it to please her. After all, Georgie’s always telling him he needs to be more assertive.

“Yes,” he says, bringing her hand to his lips and delighting in the blush it earns him. “It’s more than okay.”

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28699863

#aspecarchivesweek #tma #the magnus archives #jongeorgie #jonathan sims #georgie barker #precanon #cw internalized acephobia #but not a major component #asexual jonathan sims #sfw #aspecarchives

88 notes · View notes

scullydubois · 3 years

Text

Only the Light Ch. 20

I now present to you a chapter that is filled with more angst than Chris Carter could ever dream of, and for that, I am truly sorry.

Scully and Mulder's foray into domesticity with Emily is interrupted by the past catching up to them. Faced with despair, they cling even tighter to each other.

--------------------------------

Scully is granted maternity leave, though it’s only for two weeks, which Missy let her know is “a piss-poor bargain.” And she knows this is true, but she also has more incentive to stay at her job than ever, so she’d like not to lose it. The fact that advocating for herself and her child would mean risking her job is a mess in itself, but one lone woman can’t be expected to take down the patriarchy, and besides, she’s already tried and failed.

As for she and Mulder, they hide their flirtation in plain sight. Mulder’s perpetually present in body or spirit, but his behavior never reveals anything more than it did before. Every morning he swings by to say hi, brings Scully coffee and a bagel with full-fat cream cheese, and checks if Emily’s picked up any new words. Personally, he’s working on “alien” and if you ask him, she’ll get it soon. She knows that it refers to her UFO stuffie, so sounding out the letters can’t be far behind, much to her mother’s dismay.

On Wednesday of the first week, he shows up at 6pm with takeout carbonara from a local Italian joint. His presence makes every Scully girl happy, but it makes one in particular the happiest, and Melissa realizes that there are definitely things her sister has failed to mention. She doesn’t question it, but watches with glee as the situation unfolds.

After that first night, Mulder keeps coming back with dinner and refuses to let either sister shoulder the cost. On Friday, he stays for a movie too and gets to participate in Emily’s nightly tucking-in ritual (a tickle on the left foot, a tickle on the right foot, and a big smooch on the forehead).

Saturday afternoon, he joins them for a stroller push through the park, earning some serious side-eye from Scully when he suggests that they stop at the playground because, according to the mama bear, “Em can only take six steps at a time, Mulder.” So instead they buy hotdogs from a vendor and eat them on a bench, Emily sandwiched between her mother, her aunt, and her...Mulder. They couldn’t ask for more.

That night, Mulder hangs around after dinner because what else is he gonna do? Go home and watch old baseball games until he falls asleep? A new leaf has been offered to him, and he’s gotta turn it.

He’s baffled when, upon announcing that it’s Emily’s bathtime, Scully goes to the kitchen and switches on the sink.

Scully raises an eyebrow at him. “What, your mother never washed you in the sink when you were a baby?”

“Not that I know of...I have a hard time envisioning myself ever fitting in a sink.”

Scully scoffs. “I forget. You were a Vineyard boy.”

Before he can come up with a smart response to that (as if there actually is one), Missy pipes up. “Oh, I bet you were the kid that took baths with your mother,” she teases. “Care to confirm or deny?”

“If I did I blocked it out of memory, thank god,” he testifies.

Having spread a towel on the counter, Scully strips Emily down and perches the girl on her hip. She sticks her hand under the faucet.

“That’s not too hot, do you think?” she asks Missy, who tests it as well.

“That should be fine.”

Mulder joins in too, and immediately regrets it. He shrinks away from the water, shaking droplets all over the room. “Jesus, Scully! Are you trying to boil her?”

“Babies lose heat quickly because of their body surface to weight ratio,” she says matter-of-factly. “They’re more susceptible to the cold.”

“I think the cold will be the least of her worries,” Mulder quips.

“If you really think it’s too hot, I’ll turn it down…” There’s a concerned crease beneath her eyes, and it makes Mulder feel bad about his joking.

“No, no, you know what you’re doing,” he assures her. “You’re her mother.”

As she lowers Em into the sink, Scully’s heart twinges. Her. A mother. How many times will she have to hear this before it stops feeling like news to her?

One week and bathtime has already become routine. Missy fills a plastic cup and pours it gently over her niece, the water cascading down Em like she is nature’s own. Scully soaps her palms, then glides over her daughter’s skin with such care that its memory may blight any future affection Em is graced with. And then another waterfall, and the gentle brush of a wash cloth against eyes and nose.

Scully squeezes a penny’s worth of baby shampoo into her hand, looks to Mulder. “Come on, get in here. You’re not afraid to get your hands dirty, are you?” she says with a smirk.

He smirks back and shakes his head as she lifts his open palm and shrinks her accumulation to a dime. “Although, technically I am getting my hands cleaner…”

She boops him right on the nose with a shampooed finger. He laughs.

Missy smiles. Oh, to see destiny play out right in front of you. “Someone’s cracking dad jokes,” she points out, unable to resist. This observation is much too on-the-nose for the pair (quite literally for Mulder), who simultaneously blush but say nothing.

Mulder wipes the shampoo from his nose and plants it on Emily’s head, joining his partner in making soapy circles over the girl’s tuft of strawberry hair. Scully’s full attention is directed toward her daughter. As soon as the lather is sufficient, she dons the lifted lilt of motherhood. “Okay, time to rinse! Missy, will you do the honors?”

Missy turns the faucet, fills the cup, and lets it flow over Emily. Mulder and Scully wash their hands off in the stream.

And as Scully leans for the towel, a splash of red dirties its fresh white surface. Mulder notices it first. He points at his partner’s porcelain face. “Scully, you’re bleeding.”

Her hand shoots to her nose. Sure enough, it stains her fingers. “Shit.” She turns away, goes for a tissue. “I haven’t had nosebleeds since I was fourteen,” she tells them, as if that invalidates this one. She wipes away a glob of blood, her stomach turning. “Missy--” her voice shakes involuntarily, “--will you dry Em off?”

“Uh-huh.” She nudges Mulder. “Will you grab a new towel from the linen closet?” she whispers, not wanting to further upset her sister.

Mulder goes off without a word, and Missy squeezes out Em’s hair as best she can. “What a pretty girl!” she gushes. “All clean!”

“Yee!” Emily throws her little fists in the air, injecting joy back into the room.

“Time to put your PJs on, and get a tickle, tickle, smooch.”

Mulder scrambles back in with a new towel, skirting around Scully, who remains occupied with her own situation. He slides the soiled towel away and helps Missy swaddle Em. Mulder ruffles the little girl’s hair, and she laughs like a music box.

“Mol-dy.” She spits it out in halves, as if she’s been rehearsing.

Mulder’s eyes water with recognition. “Mulder? Mul-der? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

“Moldy,” the girl declares again, certain of herself.

Missy adjusts Em on her hip, smiles at Mulder. “Looks like you’re Moldy now.”

Mulder bites his lip to hide his overwhelming delight. “Yeah, I...I never thought I'd be so happy to be called moldy.”

Next thing he knows, Scully is at his shoulder with a tissue stuffed up her nostrils. “Wait, what’s going on?”

“Em called me Moldy,” he tells her, full of satisfaction.

“Oh.” It comes out relatively unimpressed, but really, she’s just distracted. “Missy, will you get a diaper on her before there’s an accident? I would but I’m still--” She gestures to her nose.

“Yeah, yeah.” Missy smiles at the baby in her arms. “PJ time, Em!” They go off toward the bedroom, a happy pair.

As soon as Em is out of sight, Mulder spirals toward his partner, panic-stricken. The glee of moments ago has evaporated.

“Are you okay?” He touches her hair, shoulders, and the familiar small of her back, unsure of where he should land.

“I’m fine, it’s fine.” Her grip on his elbows--keeping his hands firmly placed on her waistline--suggests otherwise.

“You’ve got to see a doctor,” he pleads. “This could be...”

“This could be what, Mulder?” The steel in her blue eyes is a death grip. She’s never liked being told the obvious.

“Scully…” He sighs, rubs his neck, wills her to say what they both know. When she doesn’t, he takes his hands off her and wrings them together. “The Mufon women...they said it would happen to all of them eventually.” He’s careful not to lump Scully in with their group.

“And what do they know?” she retorts. “One of them was sick. One.”

“Okay, well, don’t you think it’s better to be safe than sorry?” he reasons. “You have Emily to look out for now.”

Scully rolls her eyes. “Don’t guilt trip me. It’s a nosebleed. Those happen all the time for completely benign reasons.”

“Yeah, but they don’t happen to you. You just said--you haven’t had one since you were fourteen.”

She clenches her jaw. He’s right, and she’s playing the fool. His position is the one she would take if this were anyone other than herself. She’s gonna have to lose this fight with as much grace as possible.

“Fine. I’ll get it checked out, but they’re gonna think I’m insane for coming in because of one nosebleed.”

“That’s a nice change of pace--you being the insane one for once.”

“Well, you’re the one who wants me to go, so you’re not out of the woods.”

“Good, I’ve finally got some company!”

Scully smiles in spite of herself. “Yes, yes you do.”

--------------------------------------

It happens very quickly, as most calamities of life can be said to. This gives it the unreal quality of a nightmare that might soon be woken up from, if there is any justice in the world.

Scully snags a doctor’s appointment for three days after the initial nosebleed. By the time she walks into the waiting room, one nosebleed has quadrupled into four, and her minor concern has snowballed into abject terror.

Margaret Scully drove into the city to watch Emily so Missy could join her sister. Scully insisted that she would go alone, but Missy wouldn’t accept this. She threatened to tell Mulder the details of the appointment if Dana didn’t let her go, and that was enough to earn her a spot in the passenger seat. Scully can’t take the thought of Mulder witnessing the worst--let alone her reaction to the worst.

And so it goes something like this: they are taken to an exam room, at which point Scully explains her situation to a nurse, including that she has recently learned she is at high risk for cancer. The nurse assures her that such a diagnosis is highly unlikely, but makes a note for the doctor. The doctor comes in with knitted eyebrows and listens to Scully describe the aftermath of her abduction experience with a heavy emphasis on the convoluted but substantial claims of the Mufon women. She asks if Scully has had any other symptoms, to which Scully replies that it’s hard to tell because she has an infant in the house and thus, a marked lack of sleep.

The doctor laughs, but it’s not a haha laugh, more of an I feel your pain. She agrees that the women’s claims are concerning, but tells her patient not to fret. They’ll take all the precautions, run any test that might assuage her worries. There’s a quip about how it’ll be on the government’s dime since it covers Scully’s insurance, and then the doctor leaves to order an MRI.

A full body MRI, which Scully has never had, and which she hoped she would never require. There’s no deeper sickness than one that cannot be pinpointed, and no greater fear than of the unknown turning into the worst case scenario.

The MRI is completed that same day. As she slides into the machine, Scully thinks of Betsy Hagopian and wonders how she’s doing. It has been many months since she stood outside an exam room and watched Betsy enter one of these. Has fate been kind to her?

For a few minutes, her world is limited to the mere inches between her face and this life-saving yet life-ruining contraption. It is noisy and sometimes bright and altogether disorientating. She is glad when it’s over.

The images return almost immediately, and maybe it would all have been okay if Scully weren’t trained in radiology herself, if she wasn’t able to recognize the glaring speck of light in her nasal cavity for what it is. But that one glance is all she needs to know that waiting by the phone isn’t an option.

“It’s a tumor, isn’t it?” she blurts as the radiologist tries to escort her and Melissa from the room. “In the nasal cavity. I have a M.D. I saw.”

“Your doctor will call with the results,” the radiologist insists, standing by the open doorway.

“No, no, you can’t do this to me,” Scully sputters. “I know what I saw, and I don’t have any time to waste.” Her eye twitches in a combination of stress and anger. “I have an infant daughter.”

The radiologist sighs, pity on top of pity. “Perhaps your doctor will talk it through with you now.”

“Yes. Please.”

And it is talked through, though there’s no need to make it complicated: nasopharyngeal carcinoma. Inoperable, and just barely in the realm of treatable. That’s the kicker, the coyote in the pasture, the cloud covering the sun. In the words of Scully’s doctor, it is auspiciously rare. And in Scully’s brain, it is the bottom she’s been expecting to drop out from under since she held her daughter in her arms.

Melissa drives home. The sisters cannot fathom how they will tell their mother. Cannot fathom ruining her blissful time with the granddaughter she’s just met. When they turn onto their street, Scully swallows hard and coughs on her own spit. “Will you do something for me?”

Missy looks over, eager to do anything she can, yet terrified by the possibility of the request.

“Will you take me to Mulder’s?” Scully mumbles. “I would just take the car but...I can’t face mom right now. I don’t want to risk it.”

Missy bites her lip. “And what am I supposed to tell mom when she asks where you are?”

“The truth,” Scully says curtly. “She doesn’t need the backstory.”

Missy drives past their building, though she’s not completely sold on her sister’s reasoning. “Don’t you think she might wonder why you aren’t coming home to your daughter?”

“I know she’ll wonder, Melissa, I know all of this,” Scully snaps because she needs to. “I don’t care.”

“Okay.” Missy’s voice is barely perceptible. I don’t care; she knows how low her sister has to be to say those words.

They complete the drive in silence, Scully biting her nails--a habit which she has never possessed, and perhaps just acquired. The car idles as Missy pulls up to the curb of Mulder’s building.

“I can pick you up when you need it,” she tells her sister as she pulls herself out of the car. “I’ll bring Em.”

“I’ll figure it out,” Scully says, closing the passenger door and edging toward the building. Missy hears a thanks float toward the car, then her sister is gone like a teenage girl embarrassed by her mother.

-------------------------------------

They sit on Mulder’s couch, muted. Words cannot fathom the injustice of this situation, nor can they suffice as empathy. Their hands are clasped together, a throughline of strength between them. This is what they need now; the most primitive language of all.

Scully’s watery eyes brush Mulder’s face. His own eyes, more pained than usual, look into hers. Without a word, she drapes an arm around her partner’s shoulders and scoots into his lap. He is surprised but not distressed. What else is left for them, now?

She is tiny, so tiny. And she is his.

Their eyes meet once again, speaking in tongues. Scully nods, and then Mulder does too. This is it. This is it.

Permission granted at last, Scully’s lips travel to her partner’s jawline. The first time her lips have touched his body, and this is where they go. She is a constant box of wonders, a fortune he can never predict. Her lips are much like he has fantasized they would be: wondrously soft and silky, stroking him like they have always meant to be there. Yet he couldn’t have imagined the urgency with which they burrow into his skin. As if she’s making a mental map of his bone structure. He never expected that she would want him this much.

His hands find her hips and grip the cotton of her shirt between his fingers. It is enough to tear her away from his flesh. Mission accomplished. His breath travels past her ear, hitting her neck. It is shallow and warm as he breathes her name. Her real name, the one her family calls her. She breathes his own back to him, like a bird responding to a mating call.

She feels his lips on her neck, wet and aching. It feels like God. This is the most blasphemous thought she has ever had. She throws her head back, exposing the whole of her skin to him. What is holiness, if not this moment?

He showers her in tattoo kisses, and she lets him, she lets him, she lets him. This is not just what she wants, but what she needs. No one will save her now, she knows this. So she has decided not to be saved.

Her shirt ripples as he clutches it. “May I?” He is breathy, awe-struck.

“Only if I can do the same.” Always about equality, his Scully is. He lifts his arms, lets her strip him first. He is fraught with the temptation to feel insecure, inadequate, but this is not about him--this is all for her. There is no time to dwell on this anyway. Scully takes in the sight, then puts her own arms up with a hint of impatience. He pulls her shirt over her head, and goosebumps adorn her as the air hits her bare stomach.

It is unimaginable, the significance of this moment. All Mulder can do is keep going, lest the emotion hit him and he find himself blubbering all over her. His hands travel her body...it is slender and white, but so solid, so strong. Cartilage forming ligaments forming joints connecting bones. And her skin, stretching over her hips and framing it all. The masterpiece that is Dana Katherine Scully.

He fears for the day she will cave in on herself. Already, one of his hands covers her whole rib cage. Right now he can cradle her body comfortably against his own, but the day will come when a single cautious touch will crush her, and his heart along with it. He wants her as she is now forever.

Seeing that he wants to pamper her, Scully lets herself be pampered. He showers the taut length of her collar bone in kisses. The vibration resonates throughout her bone structure, and already she can feel him in places she’s only fantasized about having him. He is going to heal me, she thinks. If anyone could heal her in any way, it would be him doing this.

She shows her gratitude by kneading circles into his soft tissues, so tense from all their days chasing ghosts. The sinew relaxes beneath the pads of her fingers, and she feels like she has solved the most important X-File of all.

Mulder traces his way along her spine. He has never touched her here, nor ever even fantasized about it, and there is an erotic tension--like a needle about to drop on a record--that neither one of them could have seen coming. Inevitably, his hands converge at the hooks of her bra. She arches her back in approval. He slides the hooks away from each other, and both of them feel the release. She shimmies off the garment before he can pull it out of the way. No secrets, not anymore.

Mulder didn’t expect to cry and is aware that most women wouldn’t take that as a positive sign, but seeing her, like this, knowing what they both know, tears feel like the least he could offer up. She is...beautiful is too weak a word to describe it. He needs to invent a new word to capture the essence of his emotions, the reverence with which he views her. He is not a religious man, but he will worship her until the end of time.

He has known this, intuitively, for a while, and now he’s putting it into practice. He wants to do everything he can for her, give her everything she wants. Yet he doesn’t know how to, and this scares him. She has always slipped through his fingers, always turned on a dime just when he thought he figured her out. Tonight is no exception. How was he to know that he’d be on his couch with a half-naked Scully in his lap?

He fears the tears will offend her, so he nuzzles into her heartspace, his nose pressed against the heart that is--by the grace of that God she worships--still beating. His lips meet the plush of her left breast.

Where does he go from here? The dusty routine he’s used with other women--the few who have given themselves to him or let him hand himself over--is not worthy enough for Scully. He could never touch Scully in the ways he’s touched the women before because she is not like the women before. There is no mere giving or taking here, no detached exchange of commodities or pleasure for the sake of pleasure. This is survival. They are symbiotically keeping each other alive.

A drop of water hits Scully’s skin, slides down the curvature of her breast. She shudders. A tear. That’s what it is, she realizes. Mulder is crying. It’s a baptism of unfortunate proportions.

She cups her hand against his chin, tilts it up so his bleary eyes meet hers. She rests her forehead against his. “Shh, shh, it’s okay.” She kisses each eye closed, his lids fluttering beneath her lips. “It’s okay.”

His breathing steadies. He is quite certain that it is not okay, that it never will be, but he listens to her, lets himself pretend.

Hands still on his chin, she careens their lips together. His mouth on hers; a godsend. They caress each other for a moment, then Scully opens wide, and Mulder does too. They are reflecting.

If Scully could compress herself, pushing every particle of air out of her lungs and into his, she would. As a sort of thank you, for everything. For what he has done, what is doing, what he will do...She will never have to live without him. She knows this now, and it makes this easier. But he will have to live without her, and so she must make sure he gets the memories he needs to carry on. This is how grief works, she’s acquainted with it. These moments, these feelings, these bated breaths and tender touches, will be his survival mechanism for awhile. Until the day when he can throw them off and go on without her ghost. It will happen one day, and she will be glad that he made it.

She feels him pressing against her stomach, which is certainly not where she wants him. “Fox…” Her hands hover above his belt. She unzips his fly first, her hand warm against him. He is dizzy with want as her fingers curl against his belt buckle, loosening it with confidence. In a sweeping gesture, she pushes his jeans off his hips, exposing him. The thrill she feels, seeing him big and bare in front of her, is a new kind of livelihood. She’s overcome with the desire to take him in her mouth--and that has never, never been her first instinct. She ducks down, but he stops her.

“Dana, no. You.”

She doesn’t need to hear it twice. She sucks in a breath, arches her back, and slides onto him. Slowly, gasping as they go.

“Am I hurting you?”

Scully shakes her head, lips parted. It has been nothing like this before...nothing so fulfilling. She crosses her ankles, binding them completely together at last.

Unity triumphs against the self, their union abolishing the world’s insistence on the solitude of the individual. This is what it’s about, isn’t it? Being joined, not only in spirit, but in body? Knowing that whatever horrors are to come, he will feel them as she does. Her dwindling will be his too, her losses an equally empty space within him.

She is teetering on the edge of something she can never come back from. She is not afraid.

She careens her fingernails into his back as the pressure builds. If it doesn’t come to a head, she’ll die right here, she thinks.

She barely registers the cathartic noises coming out of her, though they give Mulder great delight. He thought she would be quiet, and the fact that she’s not trying to hold anything in--after holding everything in for so goddamn long--is the most moving part of the experience.

And they want this to go on forever, but they want the release. Mulder swivels his hips into her, bringing them both closer to climax. Scully curls against him.

“I’m sorry,” she cries into his ear.

“What?” He nearly pulls out of her, fearing that she’s hurt.

“No, no--” She scrambles to stay with him. “This--” she pants “--is so good.” She lowers her lips onto his as confirmation, then speaks into his open mouth. “I’m just sorry to be the one to go.”

He frames her ribcage, thumbs arching toward her belly button. “Fuck, honey...don’t say that, don’t even think that…”

They won’t linger on the choice of pet name, the tenderness with which it settles over her, nor the absolute devastation of her words. There is simply no time.

Scully hides her face in his neck as the wave breaks over both of them. There is no world anymore, only the two of them on this couch. They have forsaken the physical realm, ascending to heaven in time with their heartbeats.

Mulder understands then what his reciprocal means when she says she needs proof to believe. Now that he’s been there and felt it, he knows that heaven exists, and holy shit, what does that mean for the life he has lived and the time he has left? What did it mean for Samantha?...What will it mean for Scully?

They collapse into each other, a melted mass of skin and bone. Two becoming one, becoming two again. Mulder strokes the back of his partner’s head, presses his lips to her temple. Her chest rises against him in jagged breaths.

“You are the only proof I’ll ever need that this life is worth it,” he murmurs. “Just you.”

Scully looks up at him, tears running down her cheeks. He kisses them away and wraps his arms around her. “I don’t know if you got the memo, but I love you, Dana Scully.”

She rests her cheek against his. “I love you too, F--Mulder.”

Mulder chuckles, his amusement shaking both of them. Scully closes her eyes and snuggles into him. He puts his hand over her heart, feels it beating steadily into his palm, and longs for it to stay like that forever.

#i have been working on that last scene since uhhh...october #i apologize for any emotional distress this and the following chapters will cause lmao #probably only two or three chapters left!!!#thank you for reading <3 #only the light fic #missy and scully fic #txf #txf fic #the x-files #fox mulder #dana scully #melissa scully #mine

41 notes · View notes

sparkkeyper · 3 years

Text

And They Flew Anyway

Summary: It’s 1969 and Crowley and Aziraphale sit in a pub watching humans make their own history.

---------------------------

It was a raucous night in the London pub.

Indeed, Aziraphale had chosen this one specifically because of the excitement pouring out of it. He didn't have a television in his bookshop and if he was going to experience what was certainly a significant moment in Earth's history, he wanted some suitably celebratory surroundings. His search for the prefect venue (which consisted chiefly of picking a district of bars and restaurants and walking the streets with all his senses extended until he'd found the happiest, liveliest pub with a TV set) had resulted in a pub that would have been rather spacious if it wasn't packed to the brim with Sunday night patrons. A football match had apparently concluded not long before, and a sizable group of young people in the corner were drunk and rowdy in celebration of whatever team had won.

Football notwithstanding, there was a swarm of people crowding up towards the bar where the television was located. Aziraphale's eyes landed on the back of one head in particular, the haircut not so different from when he had last seen it in a Bentley in Soho two years prior. "Crowley, is that you?"

The demon turned, face spilt in an enormous smile. "ANGELLLL!" he crowed loud enough to be heard on the street outside, and Aziraphale winced, as though that in itself was enough to summon Gabriel. But Crowley was already bounding towards him, stumbling gracelessly around the people in his way and beaming like a bonfire. "Fancy runnin'in'ina you 'ere! Wonderful, marv'lous, just in time!"

Aziraphale couldn't help but smile back at the enthusiasm as Crowley clapped him excitedly on the shoulder. "And just how drunk are you, exactly?"

"Oh, unbelievably drunk," Crowley confirmed gleefully. "Hideously drunk. Only way to be, night like tonight! Least until the main event. Got your work cut out for you if you wanna catch me up. C'mon! C'mon, got good seats, right by the telly!" He flung an arm around the angel's shoulders and Aziraphale let himself be dragged over to the bar, not the least bit put out by this unexpected company.

The counter was packed full of people, but two barstools and a few cubic feet of space seemed to grow out of nowhere for them to sit comfortably. "Oi, Rico!" Crowley called over to the bartender. "One for my mate, same as me! Put it on mine!"

"Oh! Well thank you. What are you drinking?"

"I have *no* idea." The demon knocked back another mouthful of whatever was in his glass.

Aziraphale accepted the drink - some pinkish cocktail - from the bartender graciously and bit back a protest against 'my mate', figuring Crowley was drunk to the point that admonishment wouldn't stick. "So. Red letter day for downstairs?"

Crowley pulled a face and waved the notion off, swaying unsteadily on the stool. "Nahhhh. Nothin' t'do with it. Red letter day for...monkeys! Humans! Mad li'l tail-less monkeys, they are." He gestured at the television set where a pair of news anchors were discussing details. "They're tras'iting...tra'smit...they're sending the broadcast all the way from America. Got Cronkite and everything."

That was indeed true, Aziraphale saw. The conversation in the pub hadn't decreased a bit in volume, but he could tell that it was shifting more and more away from football and towards the news programme.

"Angel, d'you know how long I've been waiting for this? Six centuries. No wait..." The demon paused to count on his fingers. "- ty. Sixty centuries. Ever since Adam looked up at th' night sky and went 'wha's tha' thing, then?' I've been waiting for th' humans to get to see it up close." He raised his arms to encompass the ceiling, sloshing half his drink from the glass and nearly smacking the man next to him in the face. "She put all that beautiful, magnificent stuff waaaay up 'n the sky, way up where they could never touch, and stuck 'em down on th' ground. Gave 'em feet 'n legs 'n stuck 'em down in the mud and said 'here, you can look at it I guess but tha's it'. And humans, they looked up at the stars and said 'that's bollocks, d'You know how bollocks that is?' and got to work mapping th' sky 'n figuring out rotations and then! And then!" He grabbed the angel's shoulder hard enough to bruise. "They built a set of wings out of a metal capsule and a bunch of maths and wires and they called it Eagle! I mean, mostly I think it's the Americans being ostentatious but come on! Eagle! And they said 'nuts to Your limitations' and they went and flew anyway!"

His eyes were shining, and Aziraphale thought he had never seen Crowley so proud. "They do have incredible ingenuity."

"Blessed right, they do! W'as the time?"

"Nearly eight, I think."

"Blimey, it's soon. Hang on, I wanna 'ppreciate this." The demon ducked his head, hands gripping the counter. He let out a pained grunt and an obscenely undignified belch as he forced the alcohol from his system, and Aziraphale rolled his eyes just a little. Crowley scrunched up his face in disgust and washed down the taste of suddenly-not-drunk with another sip of the cocktail.

"They made this leap so quickly," Aziraphale observed as the anchormen began to look more flustered. "It's only been, what 70 years or so since they started toying with motorised flight?"

"Tenacious, this lot." Crowley side-eyed him. "You didn't have anything to do with this, did you?"

"No," Aziraphale answered truthfully. "In fact I was specifically told to leave the research alone."

"Same."

The whole pub was focusing on the television now as radio broadcasts came in. Radio signals from space - Aziraphale could hardly believe it. If someone had told him a hundred years ago that humans would get to this point so quickly he'd have laughed in their face.

"I was at the launch, you know." Quiet awe coloured Crowley's voice as he watched the screen. "Hopped a flight to Cape Kennedy earlier this week. Oh, it was brilliant, angel; you should've seen it."

The broadcast switched away from the anchors to an indoor studio somewhere. A model lander was being lowered slowly, awkwardly onto a model set, with the caption "CBS News Simulation" beneath it. But with the accompanying radio transmissions, it didn't take too much human imagination to make the visuals match the audio.

The murmuring of the patrons around them died slowly with each minute that passed until the entire room was silent, watching the screen. Even the drunkest of the football fans recognized the weight of what was happening.

"Four forward," crackled the radio signal. "Four forward, drifting to the right a little. Okay, down a half."

Aziraphale risked a glance beside him. Crowley was wholly focused on the television set, stock still and not breathing. In fact, the angel would have bet money that he hadn't remembered to breathe in several minutes. His glasses had slipped a bit down his nose so he could see the broadcast unhindered, and his yellow eyes were wide, waiting, desperate: hope and joy and fear raging behind them in a maelstrom.

"Contact light. Okay, engine stop. ACA out of detent. Mode control, both auto. Descent engine command override off. Engine arm off. 413 is in."

"Man on the moon," one of the news anchors breathed, but the pub held its collective breath. It had to be official. If anything went wrong at the last second...

There was were a few moments of radio static.

"We copy you down, Eagle."

"Houston... Tranquility Base here. The Eagle has landed."

"Roger, Tranquility. We copy you on the ground-"

The pub exploded, drowning out the rest of the broadcast. Crowley was on his feet, whooping and hollering with the loudest of them. Aziraphale applauded enthusiastically and clacked his glass against the beer of the gentleman beside him. "Well done, humanity! Well done indeed!"

Crowley was jumping up and down and screaming himself hoarse, hugging whatever stranger happened to get close to him and being hugged by other random strangers in return. One of the drunker football girls kissed him full on the mouth and he didn't seem to care in the least, going right back to his screaming as she moved on to kiss the bloke beside him.

Aziraphale couldn't help but bask for a moment in the happiness radiating from the humans around him. It wasn't hard to find excited people if you knew where to look, but it was rare that one found so many people all deliriously excited about the same thing. He could feel a sizable portion of Europe celebrating tonight.

Crowley grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him enthusiastically, breaking him out of his reverie. Aziraphale thought he glimpsed tears glinting from the corners of the sunglasses. "They did it! Angel, they did it!"

"I can see that! It's very hard to miss."

"Sixty centuries and they made it! Take that, You great cosmic killjoy!" This last was hollered at the ceiling but Aziraphale couldn't bring himself to be cross about it, not with so much happiness humming through the air. "Rico! New round for me and him! Ah Heaven, round for the bar!"

"You're cut off, mate!" the bartender yelled back. But a snap wiped his expression clean as that particular thought was miracled out of his head.

"I," Crowley asserted, downing the rest of his cocktail, "am fresh and ready to go. This party's just getting started. Gonna join me, angel? Betcha the news coverage'll go on for ages."

Aziraphale took the offered refill, already tipsy off the joy coming from both the humans and Crowley. "Oh, why not?"

#good omens #good omens fic #apollo 11 #the moon landing #my writing #it's fun listening to the original radio transmissions

29 notes · View notes

hadtochangemyurlquick · 4 years

Text

here’s 5.7k of the unsinkable 8 during the zombie apocalypse. good for fans of leatin and goodfoe. it’s super unedited and i’m mainly just posting it for fun cause i finished it today. some references to world war z the book for fun, and i used the zombies from that too.

A flash of blonde and Dot’s gun went up, pointed directly at the head of whatever made their way toward her. She had two bullets left, six cigarettes, and the last mini of hard liquor she raided from the motel back in Aquilla.

She’d have to get it in one shot, which would be hard sitting down, with her back to it, half delirious.

She grunted as she pulled herself around, her leg still out in the makeshift splint. The zed crept closer, not going at the usual hobbling pace. It definitely had caught her scent though, maybe it was down a few limbs already.

She cocked her gun, flicking off the safety, keeping her finger off the trigger. She’d wait until she could see the whites of its eyes. Get it in one shot.

The blonde head crept closer and she finally tucked her gun over the rocks, making eye contact with it for the first time.

“Shelby Goodkind?”

“Dot Campbell?”

Shelby stared at her, lowering her own gun and Dot let out a breath of relief.

“Dottie, oh my god, I thought you were one of ‘em.” She put away her gun, Dot doing the same and she ran over. “It’s so good to see ya, what’s wrong?” She looked at the leg, her face paling.

“Ankles broken,” Dottie muttered. “Was gonna treat myself to one last drink,” she gestured at the bottle.

“Oh lord,” Shelby said. “Well that’s no good, I got a place not to far from here I’ve been camping out in. Some first aid stuff too.”

“I can’t give you anything back for it,” Dot said.

“We both know two people are more likely to make it,” Shelby said.

She looked sunburned and hollowed out, a little hungrier than the last time Dot saw her, headed with her family to that military base. She was alone, and desperate, everyone was. Because here was how it went in Texas. You could trust a stranger as far as you could throw ‘em, but you needed people to live. So if you had people, you lived. And Dot was people, or as close to people as Shelby was willing to get. She musta lost a lot to lower her standards so far.

“Alright,” Dot said. “We’re gonna have to go slow and you’re gonna have to carry a lot of shit.”

“No problem,” Shelby beamed.

Back at the camp, an old rusting trailer with some battery Shelby told her she was saving for a rainy day, Shelby re-splinted her, fed and watered her, and they pooled their resources. Twenty-six cigs now, which might get ‘em a few hours in a safe car north, if they wanted it. Or it might get ‘em some food, or a get out of jail free card, depending on the hunger of the people hunting ‘em.

It was late at night when Dot realized she hadn’t even asked yet.

“Family’s gone then?”

“Yeah,” Shelby said. “You?”

“My dad died before this shit show,” Dot said.

“Lucky,” Shelby said. She took a swig from the mini, and passed it over to Dot. “What’s your plan?”

“I heard there was a safer spot near San Antonio,” Dot said. “Running water and shit.”

Shelby shook her head, “Gone, three weeks ago. Heard it on the radio.”

Dot nodded, “What about you?”

“Radio said Hawaii’s better,” Shelby said. “There’s an operation ferrying people there on the west coast. It’s a thousand cigs per person. But there’s work by the dock if you’re willing to do it.”

“Work for you?” Dot asked.

Shelby’s jaw tightened, “I’ll do what I have to do. Lord forgive me.”

Dot sighed, “Sounds like we go west then.”

They hung around in the trailer for three days, pushing the limits of what was safe, and stumbled on to a new place in the area at daybreak on the fourth day. Dot’s ankle wasn’t broken, with the inflatable cast Shelby had in a week or so she’d be something regarding useful, and as long as she didn’t push herself she’d be more than fine.

Spending time with Shelby Goodkind was another story. For one thing, despite the zombie apocalypse, complete destruction of their lives and modern society, the death of her family and everyone in their town, Shelby was still good and kind. She’d clutch at the cross around her neck every time they’d pass a body, and would never touch one, even the ones that were recent and obviously not stripped clean. It made Dot kinda mad, she found five cigs just walking, and she wondered how many Shelby passed off being squeamish.

But Shelby also wasn’t squeamish, wasn’t afraid to take down a zed with a kitchen knife, and with that same hand wipe the gore off Dot all gentle. She called her Dottie, gave her the last blanket, and always volunteered for the first shift so Dot could watch the sunrise. Dot hadn’t been cared for in a long while, hadn’t been around people in even longer. She decided she might love it.

But Shelby was a magnet, always had been, she talked about god’s light long enough that she got Dot believing it all fell on her. It wasn’t a real surprise when she showed up with a stray.

“What the fuck,” Dot said. “Did you kidnap a child?”

“I did not kidnap a child,” Shelby said, picking the girl up with some difficulty and lifting her onto the backseat of the broken down minivan they were holed up in.

“I sent you out to get sunscreen,” Dot said. “How did you come back with a child?”

“She’s our age,” Shelby said. “I think. And listen, I found her barricaded in a utility closet with a bad fever, I knew we had some tablets but I didn’t wanna leave her.”

“Like bite fever?” Dot asked. “We don’t have enough bullets to—”

“No,” Shelby shook her head, “Look,” she gently unwrapped a bandage around the girl’s arm, revealing a bad slice. “It’s infected. Not a bite. We’re okay.”

Dot sighed and nodded. The girl’d probably try and rob ‘em blind but if they watched her hands and got away fast enough they should be fine. They’d be fine.

“You’re more trouble than you’re worth,” Dot muttered. Shelby smiled, all sweet and gentle and bright and Dot rolled her eyes.

The girl took the tablets, they washed and changed the bandages, after about fourteen hours she blinked awake, unfortunately while Dot was on watch.

“Who—who are you?”

“Dot Campbell,” she said.

The girl stared at her.

“My friend saved your ass,” Dot said. “Shelby.”

“Um,” the girl inched back, “Why? Where am I?”

“We’re on the twenty-two, not from from the ten-eighty,” Dot told her. “You got a nasty infection there, got any cigs?”

“No, I don’t smoke.”

Dot blinked at her. “Alright then.”

“My friends will be looking for me,” the girl said. “I should get back to them.” She didn’t have an accent, Dot realized, not even a thin one like her own.

“Shelby found you around Mr. K’s, we can draw you a map if you’d like,” Dot said. “Where you from?”

“Austin,” the girl lied, badly.

“Alright then,” Dot said again. “Well we’ll draw you a map in the mornin and you can leave a day break. It ain’t far.”

“Thank you,” the girl said. “For helping me.”

“Shelby’s idea,” Dot said. Neither of ‘em slept the whole time, the girl smart enough to keep an eye out, and Dot’s whole job to watch out. She woke Shelby up when she was supposed to and easily muddled into a slumber.

A nice thing, about the zombie apocalypse, was Dot had gotten a lot better at sleeping. She used to stay up for hours thinking ‘bout how she’d pay the bills, how much her dad’s meds cost, whether he was coughing more that night than he did most nights, but now she hit whatever soft looking rock she decided to call a pillow and conked out until Shelby woke her. Shelby, on the other hand, barely slept a wink, shooting up at the slightest sign of trouble, even when Dot was on watch. Too much time on her own, Dot’d guess.

Before Shelby Mateo wandered with Dot. He was quiet and sweet and she had took care of him as best she could. Shelby didn’t have nobody before Dot. Just her dead parents, and if Dot remembered eighth grade soccer well enough, a couple of dead siblings too.

So Dot pretty much conked out and missed the way the girl and Shelby giggled all night. But even she wasn’t blind to their bond when she woke, the way the girls smiled easily at one another, laughed with each other, kept up with each other.

“Dottie,” Shelby said. “Martha,” so that was the stranger’s name “said you told her we could draw her a map but Mr. K’s ain’t far, we might as well take her.”

Dot grunted, she didn’t wanna waste a day but it wasn’t like Mr. K’s would take all day and they might as well see if they could find any more cigs. She hadn’t met any non-smokers in a long while. Apocalypse sorta took the fun out of being straight-edge, if Dot had to guess.

Dot took the back, a metal bat out and ready, and Shelby and Martha took the front. Shelby had a makeshift spear made, good for longer range, but worse up close, and she gave Martha the other bat they had. To borrow, Dot had emphasized.

One of the other things that never got old about the apocalypse, was walking up a highway. Walking straight up that middle line, knowing no one would dare drive a car ‘round there. It felt like the world was yours and empty, like you were finding it, rebuilding it, building it. It was as close to a cowboy as she had felt since her daddy let her ride on his back. It was as close to free as she had ever felt.

They got back to Mr. K’s and Dot saw the approaching figures first, aiming her rifle right at ‘em, safety off and gun cocked, but her finger off the trigger. It was Shelby’s hunting rifle, actually, but she had handed it to Dot first chance she had, looking kinda pale. She had Dot’s old handgun now, useless with this kinda range.

“Live ones?” Shelby asked.

“Can’t tell,” Dot said. “Just kinda standing there.”

“They could be waiting for me,” Martha said. Dot glanced at her, hoping the girl wasn’t actually as naive as she seemed. She probably was.

They walked as close as they dared, before Martha was able to confirm that yes it was her friends.

She ran at ‘em and one of ‘em collided with her, slamming her into a hug. There were two more, just kinda watching Dot and Shelby.

“We should go,” Dot said. “We did what we said.”

“Dottie,” Shelby said.

Dot sighed and the two of ‘em trudged up to the happy pair, reuniting like they had been separated for years, decades, instead of a few hours. It was a miracle they were reunited at all, Mateo said he’d meet her back at the camp in an hour and she had to bash his head in six months later with a sledge hammer.

“Who’re your friends, Martha?” One of the other people asked. It was four girls counting Martha, lucky, none of ‘em white, but they all looked around the same age as Dot and Shelby.

“This is Shelby,” Martha grinned, “And Dot.”

Dot nodded at them.

“I am just so pleased to make your acquaintance,” Shelby smiled, holding out her hand to the girl who still had an arm wrapped around Martha.

“This is Toni,” Martha said, squeezing the girl’s side when she didn’t take Shelby’s hand. “And Rachel and Nora.”

“Ah,” Shelby smiled, “Toni your sister right?”

Martha nodded, Toni glared. “Yeah it’s great to meet you or whatever. There a reason you kidnapped Martha?”

“I saw her passed out and worried she was alone,” Shelby explained. “I knew we had some tablets back at the camp but—”

“What do you want?” Rachel asked. “We got about six hundred if that’s—” Martha from Austin, Dot’s ass. Money hadn’t meant shit in Texas for awhile. These kids were from up north, probably pretty far up north too. Maine or some shit. Delaware.

“Got any cigs?” Dot asked.

“Yes,” Nora said. “We have a couple packs.”

“Great,” Dot held out her hands and two packs were dropped into them. Nora didn’t make eye contact the entire time, her hands fidgeting with anything. She was covered in scabs and scars, picking at her own skin probably.

“Where y’all headed?” Shelby asked.

“None of your business,” Toni said.

“Apparently the San Antonio Zone relocated to Tyler,” Martha said. “We heard some people talking about it last week.”

“Y’all got a radio?” Dot asked.

Martha shook her head.

“If you had one you’d know that that’s what they’re pulling now, telling people to go to Tyler, they shoot you as soon as you step foot in Athens.”

“So where are you guys headed?” Rachel demanded.

“West,” Shelby said. “Radio says they’re ferrying clean folks to Hawaii. It’s an island so.”

“Clean how?” Rachel asked, taking a step forward and lifting her jaw.

Dot sighed.

Shelby’s eyes widened, “Clean as in not infected, I mean.”

“Chill,” Rachel smiled, all thin, “I was kidding.”

“Great,” Dot said. “Not that this hasn’t been fun, but we should be going.”

“Wait,” Martha said. “It’s just, we might as well go west too. And we might as well go west together.”

“Marty,” Toni grabbed her by her uninjured arm, “I wanna talk to you for a moment.”

They got into a whispered argument for a few minutes. Rachel joined and it escalated but Martha came out on top, smiling as she approached them.

“We might as well go together,” she repeated.

Shelby’s smile was just as wide, “We would be alighted to have you.”

The new girls were a nightmare. Rachel and Nora, sisters as Dot would learn, hated one another. And by hated Dot meant, had a complicated relationship of love without trust or mutual respect. Nora didn’t trust Rachel, Rachel didn’t respect Nora, and they were constantly going at one another. Toni had some sorta toxic jealousy thing going on, despising Shelby because she was monopolizing Martha. She also tended to fly into these rages, making her wander off for long periods that had Dot itching to grab her gun and demanding the girl strip to check for bites. Mateo’s dad used to do the same thing, wander off to check his bite.

Shelby also was wholly focused on two things now: Martha, and Toni’s hate. Dot ambled along behind all of ‘em, keeping the sisters from killing each other, Toni’s voice down, and everyone else alive.

The worst part was it took Dot nearly three days before she caught sight of it.

“You have one hand,” Dot glared at Rachel. Rachel slung the pack over her shoulder.

“You’re just noticing that now?” Rachel asked. “I must be getting better with it.”

“The fuck happened?” Dot said.

“My hand got bit,” Rachel shrugged. “Cut it off before it spread, didn’t even know it would work.”

Dot whistled, low and quiet, like they were all used to being.

“I cut it off,” Nora corrected, sullenly.

Rachel rolled her eyes.

“I’m still quicker on the draw than you,” Rachel said, the words clunky in her mouth.

Dot set her jaw, “So y’all are sticking with the story that you’re from Austin?”

“We’re from New York,” Nora said. Rachel glared at her. “What? You think some group would waste three days on four teenage girls?”

“New York?” Dot asked. “Everyone knows it’s safer up north, why the hell are you down here?”

“You hear about Yonkers?” Rachel asked.

Dot shook her head.

“It was the last op the US military set up before they fell apart. We’d made it out by then but we watched it happen on the news. Someone in a group we had still had a phone and the whole thing was live streamed. All of the death. The group were supposed to go to some military bases up in Canada but we wanted a wide open space with plenty of guns.”

“Texas,” Dot said.

Rachel nodded.

“Stupid,” Dot told her. “You probably came for San Antonio too.”

Rachel sighed, “Nobody was gonna survive those Canadian winters without a base, and we weren’t sure we were gonna get one. Rather get bit than freeze.”

“How’d you meet Toni and Martha?” Dot asked.

“Toni and I got into a fistfight over some Takis,” Rachel said.

Dot nodded, “Fuego?”

“Fuego.”

And yeah they were a nightmare but quicker than Dot wanted they became her nightmare. Still though, she dragged Shelby away from Martha and Toni’s sides, and muttered, “we can still go. Ditch if you want. Whenever. We don’t know ‘em.”

Shelby, in high school, woulda been scandalized, muttered some bible passage at her. This Shelby was a little more grown and only looked at her all serious.

“You knew what I was when you picked me up,” she said. “And I knew what Martha was. We’ll face our consequences, I reckon.”

Dot nodded.

Walking all day, everyday, wasn’t easy stuff. Especially since they had to strip as many bodies as they could find. Nora figured it out pretty quick, mumbling something to Rachel who recruited Toni to storm over to Dot.

“You don’t smoke them, but you’re hoarding them,” Rachel said. “Why?”

Dot kept her easy pace. “These things are currency now, the value’ll only go up over time.”

“Currency for what?” Toni asked. “What are you trying to buy?”

“You think a ferry to Hawaii is free?” Dot asked. “I’m saving for all of us.”

“Dottie,” Shelby walked over, Martha sticking by Nora, “What’s up?”

“How much?” Toni asked. “Really, how much?”

“A hundred each,” Dot said, too quickly.

“Try again,” Rachel said.

“Dot,” Shelby got between them, looking at Dot. “Thou shalt not lie, right? Tell ‘em the truth.” Dot glared at her and Shelby turned back around to Rachel. “It’s five hundred each. We got about a hundred now, so no one’s going to Hawaii.”

“What if there aren’t enough?” Toni asked. “Who decides then?”

“We’ll draw straws,” Shelby said.

It was as easy a solution as anything but the tenseness started building up, Rachel and Toni viewing Dot with more suspicion. It’d fade, over time, Dot knew. Or they’d all die.

The worst it got, was actually Shelby’s doing, the easy peace maker of it all. They hadn’t bothered building a fire, despite how cold and exposed it got in Texas at night, but they huddled together between three cars they found abandoned along the highway that they pushed into a triangle. Someone got to the seat cushions of all three first, so there was nothing comfortable to lie their heads on. It was easy for Dot though, the asphalt as soft as anything to her now.

They stayed up later than they should’ve talking. Trading stories about their old life that all of them knew weren’t doing any good. Toni played basketball, was pretty good at it too. Rachel had a skill for swimming she’d never have again. Nora did quiz bowl, surprising no one. Dot talked about metal, fishing with her dad, what types of pills sold for what. Martha was a dancer, and a vegetarian once. It was something that made ‘em all crack up. When humans become man eating beasts, and once upon a time there were jokes online about vegans. Shelby talked about the yearbook, mission trips, Andrew.

But then cause Shelby started it by prattling on about Andrew Toni got it in her head to talk about Regan and Shelby was talking about Leviticus.

The next morning, Rachel quietly pulled Dot aside and told her to take all the cigarettes and head out. That they could make their own way west. Dot didn’t ask for an invitation to go with her.

They split off at the twenty-five, Dot and Shelby heading for the forty, Toni, Martha, Rachel, and Nora heading for the sixty.

Shelby was heartbroken for a few days, apologetic too, and grateful. Dot didn’t let her have any of that, only said, “It’s cause we’re from the same town. We might be the only ones from there left.”

They trudged on.

In Arizona Dot found the love of her life, her soulmate, Fatin Jadmani. In a completely straight way too. Fatin matched her tit for tat, spoke a language Dot hadn’t realized she’d been born knowing. Her girlfriend was an anxious woman named Leah, who Shelby got on with. Dot had worried, upon bringing the two back to camp, that Shelby would chase ‘em away again, but she hadn’t. Just smiled at the two of them, easily offering up a couple granola bars.

Whenever tenseness came about Fatin just laughed, and Leah rolled her eyes. It wasn’t perfect, Dot knew, there was too much hate for that, but it would last ‘em long enough. The four of ‘em just worked in this great lovely way.

Only problem was their destination.

“We barely managed to get out of LA,” Leah mumbled, she hugged her legs, her head leaning on Fatin’s shoulder.

“LA?” Shelby asked. “That’s where we’re headed.”

“What the fuck?” Fatin glared at Dot, “Dorthy I thought you had more sense than that.”

“There’s some military guys ferrying people to Hawaii,” Dot said.

“Where’d you hear that, the radio?” Fatin asked. She sighed at their nods, “They’re broadcasting out to whoever will hear it, but there is no ferry to Hawaii. The entire thing is just selling and shipping as many girls out as possible. We have no idea where though.”

“So when you say you barely made it out,” Dot said.

Fatin’s face was grim.

“We have to warn ‘em,” Shelby said.

“Warn who?” Dot asked.

“Toni and the others! They don’t know!” Shelby stood up. “I’ll plot out the course now and we’ll start out fresh tomorrow. We aren’t leaving ‘em to—to—we aren’t leaving ‘em.” She stormed off and Dot watched her go.

“She wants to go towards LA to help some motherfuckers who kicked you out of their group?” Fatin asked.

“Yeah,” Dot said.

“Are you gonna go with her?” Leah asked.

“I knew what she was when I picked her up,” Dot said.

“What do you wanna do?” Leah asked Fatin.

Fatin pressed her cheek to Leah’s head, “I don’t know if I can risk you.” Fatin looked at Dot, “Are you gonna be stupid?”

“No,” Dot said.

“Then we’ll come,” Fatin sighed. “Leah that okay?” Leah nodded.

Neither of ‘em were as good at offing zed as Shelby and Dot. Fatin was decent at finding stuff though, scoping stuff, and Leah had endurance none of the rest of ‘em could match. She was like a zed sometimes, just kept going, could keep going, until her knees wore down to dust and then she’d crawl, crawl until her fingers wore down to nubs and then she’d inch, inch until something put her out of her misery. It terrified Fatin and Shelby, but Dot couldn’t help being impressed.

So Dot ambled after Shelby toward Bethlehem on the forty but they were gonna leap back on the interstate and hopefully head ‘em off. Hopefully Martha, Toni, Rachel, and Nora’d be alive, and they’d find ‘em. And if they didn’t find ‘em, hopefully they’d be dead. And Shelby stopped sleeping about a day or two into trek. Would just keep staring at the maps and keeping watch, and taking inventory and thumbing around her necklace.

When Dot woke up on the third day of their walk, Shelby’s hair was much shorter and Fatin looked real scared. Shelby kept walking and walking and, in a fit of rage that matched Toni’s, launched her necklace off the highway. She looked like she regretted it after but they had no choice but to keep going.

They passed an arm and it looked like Rachel’s.

Shelby walked faster. Leah had that glint in her eye. Fatin took Dot’s hand and looked very very scared.

After two more days Shelby said fuck it, and found a car with some gas in it and told 'em to get in.

Dot stood in front, “Shelby,” Shelby glared at her, “This’ll attract every body in the fucking country. The sound, the smell, I’m not just talking about the dead ones neither.”

Shelby swallowed hard, “You gonna stay behind then?”

“Shelby,” Dot said. “If you leave me here I’ll get caught up in the hoard. That what you want?”

“Get in the damn car, Dottie!” Shelby said.

“If we get to ‘em in time, but there’s a fucking hoard following us, we won’t have anywhere to go but on,” Dot said. “Fucking think!”

“I am thinking,” Shelby spat back. She shoved Dot, “I’m thinking about Toni, and Martha walking from Minnesota to Texas only to die in California. I’m thinking about Nora and Rachel watching Yonkers fall and then getting shipped off to who knows where. That’s what I’m thinking.”

“Shelby we can make it,” Leah said.

“No we can’t!” Shelby said. “I’ve done the math, I keep looking at these maps, there’s no way we’ll make it in time without a mode of transportation. No car and they die.”

“Then what the fuck are we going there?” Dot asked. “If it’s too late—”

“It is not too late!” Shelby said, her throat was all closed and choked sounding. “I can save ‘em! Jesus fuckin Christ we have to help ‘em!”

“Shelby,” Dot said, she put a hand on her shoulder. “We can’t take a car, and we can’t make it by foot,” Shelby’s face crumpled. “They’re gone, alright? We should be planning our next move.”

“No,” Leah said. She shook her head, “We have to help them.”

“You don’t even know ‘em,” Dot said.

“I’m not letting four innocent girls go through what I nearly went through,” Leah said.

“I’m with Leah,” Fatin said. “We’ll take the car and play it by ear.”

“Play the-hoard-that-will-start-coming-after-us-the-second-we-turn-on-the-engine by ear?” Dot asked.

“Let’s vote,” Shelby said. “All in favor of going?”

Fatin, Leah, and Shelby all raised their hands.

“C’mon,” Dot begged. She looked at Fatin, “You told me not to be stupid!”

“So don’t be stupid,” Fatin said. “Get in the car.”

Dot sighed, wanted to punch something, wanted to cry, was too tired to do either, got in the car.

The car attracted so many fucking zed, they wouldn’t be able to stop, and they had to hope there was enough in the fucking tank to get them to wherever the four were. Dot watched the dead bodies creep closer, at their slow hobbling, relentless pace. Fatin drove, Shelby used her pike to spear any who got too close, Dot watched the maps and steadily got herself into a panic.

They were gonna die trying to save the asses of some girls they spent a couple days with.

This was not what Shelby was when Dot picked her up, this was not what she was. Shelby had gone behind Dot’s back and fucking grown as a person, hadn’t she? How the fuck was Dot gonna get away from her? She’d have to pack Fatin in a suitcase and then Leah too and that would mean entirely abandoning Shelby to be on her lonesome oh god.

Dot was stuck, wasn’t she.

As they kept driving Shelby had to keep spearing zed. It started off as one or two, but as the hours wore on they were leaning on five, six, a steady growing mass ambling behind ‘em.

If that had really been Rachel’s arm, they were probably dead. All of ‘em. Or maybe in the mass behind ‘em. And if they weren’t, they’d hear the car coming and head for the hills, assuming it meant a hoard was close behind. Which it was.

This was such a fucking terrible idea.

“So what, we just wait for a sign to say welcome to LA and then give up? We won’t find ‘em like this,” Dot said.

“Shut up!” Shelby said, she speared another.

“At least check you ain’t offing one of ours,” Dot said. “They could all be zed, for all we know.”

“I said shut up,” Shelby turned to glare at her and a zed slammed against the door. She speared it and Dot’s mouth clamped shut. “We just gotta keep going,” she said. “We’ll be fine, we just gotta keep moving.”

“You’re crazy,” Dot said.

Shelby didn’t have anything to say to that.

It was worse at nightfall, with visibility down, and they just had to keep going, to hope their car wasn’t stripped when they went over the bumps of mutilated corpses still hungry for a last meal.

“We’re almost to LA,” Shelby said. “We got nearly a hundred cigs, we might be able to bribe someone if they jump us.”

Leah snorted.

They were driving through an empty enough part of Nevada though, less corpses hurling themselves off the road and towards them. Still the ever growing mass behind ‘em now, maybe fifty, seventy five, but about twenty out.

“I gotta piss,” Dot said.

“Hurry,” Fatin said.

Dot stumbled out, no one noticing her grabbing her pack. The zed would follow the car, she’d make a clean break. She’d survive.

She was only seven minutes south, judging by the north star Shelby taught her to find when someone’s hand grabbed her. She pulled out her hand gun, jamming it into the head and flicking the safety off.

“Dot! Jesus Christ!”

The girl was wide-eyed, tan, hollowed out, empty and desperate. Reminded her of the empty pill bottles around her house after her dad died.

“Toni?”

Toni nodded, “Why are you here? Fuck that I don’t give a shit, you got water?” Dot handed it to her and Toni downed it. “The other’s are close, c’mon.” She stumbled as she got up, clearly dizzy, and Dot grabbed her forearm.

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you guys,” Dot said.

“Don’t tell me it’s you in the fucking car,” Toni said. “We’ve been running from that thing for ages.”

“I fucking told Shelby,” Dot said.

“Shelby?” Toni asked, she was almost too exhausted to sound disgusted, but she managed it.

“Listen, LA isn’t safe, we found out. They’re not taking kids to Hawaii, they’re taking them.”

Toni went pale, “Fuck.” She even sounded choked now. “Shelby’s having a fucking aneurysm worrying about you so I don’t even think she’s that fucking homophobic. I’ll get everyone back to the car, you tell ‘em I’m coming.”

Toni nodded, stumbling towards the street and Dot walked back to the direction Toni pointed to before she left. Rachel, Nora, and Martha were all in various points of disarray. Exhausted, dehydrated, starving, aching and bleeding. Dot had to half carry, half drag Nora with Martha and Rachel had to get a stick to lean on as they stumbled toward the street.

“We got like ten minutes,” Fatin said. “People are gonna have to double buckle, and before anyone else makes a decision, we’re going north.”

Dot strapped everyone in and found herself sitting next to Shelby who met her eyes in a hundred yard stare.

“You took your pack.”

“Yeah.”

“But you came back.”

“Yeah.”

“Fine.”

They started on again. Dot saw Toni keep sneaking glances at Shelby and Shelby kept sneaking ‘em back.

They weren’t far from Mt. Tobin when the two finally stopped dancing around each other.

Dot convinced everyone to ditch the car near LA, walking as quickly as they could once they did, knowing it’d take awhile to ditch the hoard too. Dot watched Toni talk to Shelby in low tones, Shelby full of apologies and panics and Toni keeping her cool longer than Dot had ever seen it.

Martha took to Fatin quickly, everyone did, and Nora and Leah spent long hours walking beside each other mumbling about books or something. Not anything Dot gave two shits about.

Rachel ambled along with Dot most of the time. Whenever Fatin and Leah were all over each other and Dot didn’t feel like third wheeling. Rachel was always listening to the radio and as time passed it became clear that the two of them were the most capable of keeping everyone alive. And not in a more knowledgable way. Because Nora knew what plants were edible, and Shelby was a better shot. Or in an emotional way, because Fatin and Martha handled that. But in a planning sorta way. Because Dot knew how to get them to point B, while Rachel was working on point E.

“We should go to Washington,” Rachel muttered on one of the late nights they spent keeping watch while they poured over maps. “We might be able to find a boat to Victoria.”

“Victoria?” Rachel pointed her out.

“It’s a Canadian island. Canada lasted a little longer than we did, Victoria might not be in such a bad way.”

“Less guns in Canada,” Dot said. “And there might not be a boat that’ll take us there. Plus, we don’t know the currency.”

“We’re eight teenage girls,” Rachel pointed out. “We stick around so close to Cali, we’re asking for trouble. We need to put an ocean between us and whatever the fuck they’re doing there.”

Dot sighed. So they’d go to Washington.

On the way they’d probably run into another group who’d tell them Washington was overrun but there was something decent in Wisconsin. Half way to Wisconsin someone would tell ‘em their information was bad and they need to get south where there were guns and space. They’d almost be in Georgia when someone would tell ‘em there was some real government up in New York again.

They’d follow pipe dream to pipe dream to pipe dream. They’d probably die young.

Toni curled around Shelby, holding Martha’s hand. Fatin and Leah held on for dear life. Rachel didn’t take her eyes off Nora. Dot watched them all.

Yeah they’d probably die young. Better than dying alone.

#gus writes #the wilds #the wilds fanfic #goodfoe fanfic #shoni #leatin fanfic #leatin #dot campbell #leah rilke #fatin jadmani #shelby goodkind #toni shalifoe #rachel reid #nora reid #martha blackburn #the unsinkable 8 #the unsinkable eight

52 notes · View notes

uglymanchronicles · 3 years

Text

Ugly Man Chronicles Reignition Book 2 Chapter 2: My Breakfast With Evan

Just a couple dudes getting to know each other.

“If you must know,” Evan sighed, spearing a glistening sausage on the end of a flimsy plastic fork, “my jackass older sister thought it would be hilarious to give me a cupcake she'd baked with about a dozen powdered viagra for my fifteenth birthday. I wound up passing out eventually. Burst a lot of blood vessels. Damaged the erectile tissue beyond usefulness.”

Titus froze mid-coffee-sip. “Seriously? What a bitch!”

“Buddy, you don't know the half of it.”

“So... no signs of life down there?”

“Nothing for twelve years.”

“I think I would literally kill myself.”

“It's not so bad, I guess. At least I don't have to drain the blood out of it any more.”

“Eugh! Fuck! Did not need to hear that!”

“Well, maybe you shouldn't ask questions you don't want the answer to.”

“Do you get, like, blue balls all the time, then?”

“That's basically my ground state of being.”

Titus whistled flatly, avoiding looking Evan in the eye. He settled for staring at the table. There wasn't a lot of Evan's face that he felt comfortable looking at; every part seemed to at least be adjacent to some unpleasantry or another. About the only safe area was his right eye, which, as luck would have it, was directly opposite Titus's 'good' eye. Titus rallied and met Evan's gaze again. “Alright, your turn.”

They'd agreed on a sort of mutual interview process, taking turns asking questions to suss out what the other was capable or if he was worth having around. Evan took a bite out of the sausage and chewed thoughtfully for a moment.

“Who's Moreno?”

Titus hissed through his teeth. “A real piece of shit.”

“I'm going to need more than that.”

“I'm getting to it. He's basically, like... a freelance henchman? Like, sort of a mercenary criminal. Sells his services to the highest bidder.”

“And why's he matter?”

“That's another question.”

“No, it is not,” Evan said, quiet and serious. “Do not argue with me in bad faith, Titus. I have very little patience for it in the best of times.”

Titus regarded him for a long moment. The man across from him was wider than the table they sat at. His muscles were so pronounced in some points that Titus could tell when he was about to move by the way they bulged and contracted. Yet he gave the impression that he was constantly trying to pull himself inward, to make himself smaller. He spoke quietly and with a simple formality, but only hours before Titus had watched him single-handedly beat down some of the nastiest people he'd met in the past month.

Hmm.

“Fine. Moreno matters because I'm after the guy he's working for. You see, Moreno isn't just a normal scumbag. He works for people who need nasty things done. Not like regular nasty, either. How much do you actually know about magic?”

“I've got some... notes. So far I'm not able to find a lot of coherent rules. It mostly seems like it relies on things that nobody would normally do.”

Titus snapped his fingers and pointed at Evan. “Hit it right on the head. Rituals, reagents, that kind of thing... the reason—well, one of the reasons—magic doesn't just happen all the time by accident is that it's all weird little things. A lot of the more heavy magic relies on some pretty elaborate and obtuse shit to get it going.”

Evan momentarily thought back to the Book of Fate and his ritual in the woods. “So Moreno does these things for people?”

“Yeah. Thing is, though...” Titus stopped raising a forkful of eggs halfway to his mouth and set it down again, as if he'd momentarily lost his appetite. “The people who use his services generally practice some pretty vile magic. Real depraved shit. And to empower depraved magic, you need depraved rituals. Moreno is the guy you go to when...”

“I think I get it,” Evan interjected, since Titus seemed to be struggling with deciding whether to continue. “Your turn.”

Titus tapped his fingers on the table for a moment, then looked Evan in the eye. “How smart are you?”

The scars on Evan's face squirmed around as he actually smirked. “What kind of question is that?”

“Hey, we agreed no 'whys'.”

“Alright, alright. Well, there's really no objective metric for it, but... I have Master's degrees in computer science and theoretical physics, Bachelor's in those in addition to mathematics and electrical engineering, and associate's degrees and certificates in everything from EMT training to ballet. I should have my doctorate in physics, but...” he said, with a bitterness that Titus made a note of, then changed gears. “Oh, and I also speak Mandarin, Spanish, Japanese, French, and Arabic pretty fluently. I also know ASL. I can get by in German and Russian, too. I don't know if any of that is what you meant but--”

“Jesus, I get it,” Titus muttered, rubbing the side of his head. “How the fuck do you make money?”

“Software consulting, mostly. I specialize in security and processing efficiency. People pay me to break into their systems and then patch the holes, or to make their code run quicker or make their programs smaller. I've got a few patents I've licensed that bring in most of my income nowadays, though.”

“Anything I would have heard of?”

“If you've used a computer made in the last four years it probably has something I wrote integrated somewhere into it. I also helped develop a protein-sequencing program that helped develop a vaccine for this nasty SARS variant that broke out in China last year. They say if they hadn’t nipped it in the bud it could’ve spread worldwide and we’d be looking at millions of deaths by now.”

Titus scrunched up his face. “Oh yeah, just say that like it’s no big deal.”

“I’m just glad it turned out not to be one. What I'd really like to do is get my compression algorithm out there, but if I do that, somebody's going to try to hoard it all for themselves.”

“Are you talking to yourself or me?”

“Look, I... a few years ago I figured out a way to compress memory down by a exponential factor of six with zero loss. All it takes is a couple software plugins that don't take up much room themselves. Essentially, I could make a gigabyte fit in a kilobyte with very little trouble, now that the math's figured out.”

“Holy fuck, that's insane! Why haven't I heard anything about this?”

“Mainly because I don't tell people. If I put it up on the market, some ISP would buy it and bury it. If you make information smaller, you make it faster. Can you imagine what it'd do to internet access if dial-up and barebones cellular networks suddenly had the bandwidth of fiber optics? It would... maybe not revolutionize our society, but it would level a lot of playing fields. Bring a lot of underdeveloped areas of the world—hell, this country—up to modern levels with no extra cost. The telecomms would crash and burn so hard. But I don't have the means to get it out there without going through someone else. Yet,” Evan added. “So I basically work watered-down versions of the compressor into the software I make. Nothing that can be duplicated, and nowhere near its full potential, but enough to get me hailed as some kind of genius and pay the bills.”

“So why aren't you on your own private island or something somewhere instead of puttering around God's Ashtray in a shitty old Bug?”

“Hey, the Beetle is not shitty,” Evan said, defensively. “And I'm just waiting for the AC in my RV to get fixed or I'd be driving that.”

“Oh hot damn! Now that's the way to live!”

“Not the one I'd choose voluntarily, but it could be worse.”

“How come you're doing it, then?”

“I think it's my turn to ask,” Evan said, mildly.

“Fine,” Titus said grumpily, crossing his arms.

“How do you make money?”

“That's easy. I'm basically a freelance bailbondsman. I just roam around, drop my advertising around bars and courthouses.”

“You get many clients that way?” Evan asked, cocking his remaining eyebrow.

“Oh, you'd be amazed how desperate people can get,” Titus said, shrugging. “Of course, they're usually not the most responsible people, so when they bounce, I track 'em down myself, drag ‘em back to jail, get the money back. My eye usually makes it super easy. Sometimes they don't even see me before I get the cuffs on 'em.”

“Why did you feel the need to rob a bunch of drug dealers, then? The thrill of it?”

“I had a pressing need for a large amount of cash that my normal work doesn't bring in. That got me enough to hold it off for a while. My turn.”

Evan waved down a waitress for a refill of his coffee, trying not to take it personally when she gasped upon seeing his face. “Go ahead…”

“No, no, hang on.” Titus waved a hand dismissively. “I want to try something. Take your hair out of the ponytail.”

“What? Why?”

“Humor me.”

Evan groaned and reached back, removing his hair tie. After shaking his head, his hair fell over his face, obscuring everything but his nose and mouth. Titus pursed his lips and regarded him seriously for a moment.

“Can you see?”

“Yeah, I guess. Well enough to not walk into things, I think, and I could probably read if I had to.”

Titus snapped his fingers. “Good. Go with that from now on.”

“Why?”

“Because now you don’t look like God’s mistake. Now you look like a big, dumb-but-lovable goon. Like Jack Black would voice you in a cartoon.”

“And that’s a good thing?”

“Do you like seeing people contemplating their own mortality and the general cruel absurdity of the tragic farce that is human existence when they get a glimpse of your face?”

Evan felt his cheeks burn and was actually grateful his hair was covering most of his face. “…not particularly, no.”

“Then there you go. You’re welcome. Okay, question time. Uh… how did you get your powers?”

“Which one?”

“Oh, now who’s arguing in bad faith? Fucking all of them, you thick-lipped gargoyle.”

Evan had the feeling he hit a sore spot. Titus's easy-going, jocular tone had bled away from him, leaving behind the hard-edged razor-blade of a man that had ambushed him the night before. He decided not to belabor the point.

“I don't know why I can rege—why I heal so quickly. No, I'm serious, as far as I know, it just started happening sometime in the past few months. I can't remember. Don't look at me like that, I'll get to that in a minute. When I was younger I recovered from a lot of injuries a lot quicker than the doctors thought I would, so maybe it's something I was born with and it just got stronger recently for some reason.”

Evan took a sip of coffee, mainly to buy a few seconds to think of how much to explain for the next part.

“The ability to shut off powers... that's part of, well, I guess you'd call it a magic ritual, because I don't know what else to call it. I found a weird old book that said it contained the key to making someone an instrument of universal justice, or something of the sort. Since then I can see... I guess they're souls? Maybe? I can sort of move mine and when I run it into someone else's it seems like I can shut off their powers. Or... take them entirely, if they're dying.”

“Horseshit!” Titus scoffed. “That's... that's like meta-magic. I don't even know if that's real.”

“No, seriously! I don't think it's just magic powers, I think it... 'normalizes' things.” He briefly recounted his encounter with the pain monster.

“Are you kidding me? That...” Titus took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair, exhaling slowly and loudly. “Look, I don't know much, but the fact that you even ran into something like that, let alone survived... those odds are astronomical. And you say you negated not just its powers, but its whole form?”

“Yeah. Once I... reached into it, like I did with you—oh don't make that face. Grow up—I kind of disrupted what made it... different, I guess? Like I cut it off from its special qualities. Like it was...”

“Disjuncted,” Titus cut in.

“Yeah, that's a good word for it. Like the old Mordenkainen spell?”

“Fucking nerd.”

“Eat my ass. Anyway, after I killed it, I was able to reach into its... soul? Animating force? Aura? I don't know what to call it. I was able to grab something and pull it out and it just got pulled into me.”

“Not aura.”

“What?”

“Aura's a different thing,” Titus said, dismissively. “So what did you get from doing that?”

“I.. I feel pain differently. I don't flinch or get adrenaline rushes from injuries that don't actually impede my ability to function. I think I have a better sense of what is actually dangerous to my body now. It still hurts, but I don't react to pain like people normally do. It's like...hmm.” Evan drummed his fingers on the table. “Do you know anything about video games? Fighting games, specifically?”

“I used to fuck around on an old Alpha 3rd Strike cabinet when I was a kid. Why?”

“Do you know what 'super armor' is?”

“Isn't that where a move can't get stopped by being hit when you're doing it?”

“Right. I'm kind of like that now. Pain doesn't interrupt me.”

“Fucking nerd.”

Evan's fist involuntarily clenched. “I'm trying to put this in terms you can understand, you stupid reprobate. My experience with your judgment thus far hasn't given me much faith in your intellect.”

Titus burst out laughing. “So he does know how to banter! I thought you might be one of those Rainman types.”

“Oh sure, call it 'banter' to try to excuse the fact that you've been insulting me for the past half hour. Do you say you're ‘just joking’ when people get mad at you for saying stupid shit, too?”

“C'mon, lighten up! We're partners now! Tell me more about this soul thing. I still think you're full of shit.”

Evan sighed through his nose, then held up his left hand, forming his fingers into a circle and peering through them.

“Yours is... a sort of cross between a sea green and an oil slick. The tendrils of it keep reaching out and snapping back, going all over the place. It seems to keep expanding and contracting. It's almost flickering, like... it's indecisive. Very chaotic. The tendrils that aren't snapping around seem to be kept pretty close to your body, wrapping around you like... I can't tell if it's protective or restrictive.”

Titus's expression slowly became serious. “What does that mean?”

“I don't know. I have a lot of theories, but nothing solid to go on. I'm not sure if it's allegorical or a literal representation of a person's... power, maybe? Yours definitely looks a lot different than most people's.”

“I don't believe this for a second. Let me see.”

“How would I do tha—hey!”

Titus grabbed Evan's wrist and held his hand up to his eye. “Ho-lee...”

He pulled back from Evan's hand, staring at him. Then he looked around the room, mouth slack as he took in the diner's other occupants.

“Huh. Did you know it keeps working until you blink?” He said after a moment, a faraway tone to his voice.

“I didn't even know other people could do it,” Evan said, awe in his voice. “Hey, wow, you're right!”

“Jesus, yours is, like, really blue. It looks like... a bunch of steel cables. It's weird, I felt like I both could and couldn't see the edges of it...”

“I can kind of move it, but I'm not sure if I can do anything with it beyond interfering with people's powers. It's like learning to use a muscle you didn't know you had.”

“Huh.” Titus was again silent for a long moment. “Your turn.”

“Can you do anything else supernatural? Besides your time-eye?”

“Don't call it that, it sounds stupid. And... sorta. I seem to have whatever innate talent you need to actually do magic, but it's not like it's easy to find instructions. Most of the people I know who can use it just dabble with half-broken magic items—wands, amulets, charms,” he pulled the silence charm out from under his coat and bounced it at the end of its chain. “I guess I'm sort of a dabbler. I know a few tricks, I can use a lot of magic tools, I can sense magic pretty well, I can dowse... Most of the time I really never have to use anything besides the eye, though.”

“Is the eye all-or-nothing?”

“Yeah. It's not nearly as useful as you'd think, but any edge is an edge.”

“When I turned off your power and it was coming back, though, you started speeding up—or, I guess, everything else was slowing down? You were moving faster, one way or the other. You were able to touch me, and those punches hurt.”

“Huh, yeah, you're right.”

“Do you think there's a way you could learn to only partially activate it?”

“That'd be great, wouldn't it? Thing is, just using it is a huge strain, and that time spend outside of time adds up. Going by normal calendar time I'm only 26.”

“Fuck, I'm 27!” Evan laughed.

“Yeah, well, I'd rather be prematurely gray than what you've got going on. My turn. Uh... huh, I can't really think of anything else. Uh... are you gay?”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“No, but the question still counts.”

“I'm bi,” Evan mumbled, crossing his arms across his prodigious chest. “Not that it matters. And before you ask, no, you are not my type. We're done talking about this.”

“Huh. You ever sucked--”

“We. Are. Done. Talking about this.”

“Fine, God. Go.”

Evan mentally circled back to an earlier question he felt hadn't been properly answered. “Why are you after Moreno?”

To Evan's surprise, Titus didn't hesitate. “I'm actually after his current boss. He's just the best lead I have to go on.” He took a deep breath, then started talking with a rushed, deadpan pace, as if he was eager to get the words out as quickly as possible so they wouldn't be in his mouth very long.

“Moreno is working for a guy only known as the Soultaker. He has an innate supernatural ability to pull a person's soul out of their body. When that happens, the person just... shuts down, usually. No motive force behind them. Eventually they just die of dehydration, usually. I've seen some people so set in routine that they keep going without a soul, but... it's not really life.

“It seems like the extraction process takes a while, so he can't just walk past you on the street and pickpocket your entire essence. So he needs people rounded up for him, held until he can do his nasty juju. So that's where a degenerate like Moreno comes in.

“So when he pulls out a soul, it, well, it looks like this.”

Titus pulled a battered, faded Crown Royale bag out of his jacket. It bulged strangely and made a quiet clacking when he set it on the table. He pulled out what looked like a large marble, or maybe a dull pearl, and handed it to Evan.

Evan brushed his hair out of his eyes and peered into the milky depths of the sphere. After a few moments of staring, the murky clouds inside the thing seemed to clear and a face floated to the surface. A black man, maybe in his late 40s, going thin on top. His eyes were closed and he appeared to be sleeping, but his expression had a look of discomfort to it, as if he was having a bad dream.

“Jesus Christ,” Evan whispered, “I've seen this guy... Martell Calloway? I saw some news article about how his family found him tied up in his apartment and completely comatose! But he didn't have any injuries beyond being a black eye... so he's dead?”

“Life support,” Titus said, taking Mr. Calloway's soul back from Evan's unresisting fingers, “technically, he's one of the lucky ones. They found his body before it wasted away to nothing, and I was able to intercept his soul before it got to a buyer.”

“Why would someone buy something like this? What use is it? Can you fix him?”

“A human soul is a damn near exhaustible arcane battery,” Titus said gravely. In the split second between sentences, Evan noticed something—after he'd put the bag back into his jacket, Titus surreptitiously touched a pocket on the other side of his jacket, as if he was making sure something was still there.

“If you know what you're doing, you can power a lot of magic using a soul. And you can reuse them as long as you don't overdo it. If you know what you're doing, you can wring all but the last drops of essence out of a soul and let it heal or recover or whatever, and it'll eventually be back to full strength. Very resilient things,” Titus continued. “I don't think they're conscious in there, but... anyway, it's supposed to be really hard to extract a soul. But this guy was born with or spontaneously developed or somehow figured out a shortcut to the whole process. So the market is getting flooded with torture-batteries and ECUs are getting flooded with vegetables. And families are winding up with loved ones who are as good as dead, without having any idea why this happened to them. Dozens of them have been taken off life support in the past few months. Half these souls have no body to return to. And no, I can't fix it. At least not yet,” he sighed again. “I was hoping once I found him, I could somehow get the secret out of him or force him to put them back, or... maybe I thought if I killed him it'd reverse the effect. He needs killing, either way.”

Titus's eye widened as a thought struck him and he looked Evan in the eye for the first time since he'd started the story. Evan realized what he was thinking and looked down at the tattoo on his left arm, flexing his fingers.

“If you can take people's powers after they die...”

“...then we can save these people.”

Titus put a hand over his mouth and for a moment Evan thought he saw his eye well up.

“I'm in,” Evan said, a sense of righteous purpose welling in his heart. “I don't really know what the universe wants, but I doubt... I know it's not this. We'll find him, we'll stop him, and we'll save as many of these people as we can.”

“...thanks,” Titus mumbled behind his hand. He swallowed hard, then seemed to come back to himself. “We're back to square one, though.”

“You said you could dowse? Like, for real?”

“Yes, for real. I can find things and people with the pendulum method. It's handy for tracking down bounties.”

“Why don't you dowse Moreno?”

“Why didn't I think of that?!” Titus said incredulously, smacking his forehead. “Because he's warded. He's not magic himself, but he's collected enough gear through his career that my normal methods don't work.”

Evan rubbed his chin. “What if we used an abnormal method?”

-------------------

An hour later, they were in the RV. Titus was poring over the collection of Evan's notes and the strange papers he'd bought from Delmann's shop. Evan was very carefully slicing a strip of skin from his own ankle up all the way up his leg. The Guiding Light—the Finder's Follysat on the table between them, filled with fresh blood.

“Even if this works, he's going to know we're coming,” Titus muttered, engrossed in the pages. “Remember what I said?”

“That's why we're not going to look for him,” Evan said, adjusting his grip on the potato peeler. “I don't know how we'd even write his name. Can you read that, by the way?”

“Kind of. This is... most of this is written in, like, arcane pidgin. Who compiled these notes?”

“I did, I think.”

“You think?”

“Oh yeah, I forgot to clarify on that. Apparently a couple months ago, before the ritual, I drilled a hole in my own brain to erase some kind of very dangerous memory.”

“You what.”

“That's not a metaphor or anything. Really did it. I could show you the video.”

“I'll pass. So you don't remember where this came from?” Titus shook the Book of Fate at him.

“Nope.”

“Jesus shit, do you have any idea--”

“How reckless that was? Yeah, yeah, I'm still here and I'm the answer to your fuckin' prayers, aren't I?” Evan gave a whoop as the peeling skin reached his thigh. “Got it this time!” he said cheerfully, snipping the flesh-ribbon off with scissors.

“God, that's so fucking gross. Anyway, you haven't explained how we're going to use that thing to find Moreno.”

“We don't set it to look for him. We look for somewhere he's been. Maybe the last place he slept. Do you think you can describe him well enough in that language for it to work?”

Titus looked like he might actually be impressed, but he hid it well. “Yeah, probably.”

“Good. I've got a dictionary I've put together on that tablet next to you, but I'm not sure how accurate it is. Maybe it'll help?”

---------------------

Two hours later, they had it.

Find where a man born between the 27th and 28th north parallels during a new moon under the sign of capricorn with black hair and green eyes who has killed at least 10 people slept in the past week.

They really had to squeeze the letters in, but when Evan put a flame to the wick, it sprung to life, wavered for a moment, and then pointed east. Both men cheered. Evan threw Titus the keys.

“Drive! Drive north until I tell you otherwise!”

While Titus started the engine, Evan spread a map of the United States on the table in front of the lamp, then produced a protractor and a notebook from a drawer. “Okay, you bastard... let's see where you've been hiding...”

It took three days—one spent driving north, one spent driving back to where they'd started, and one spent driving south. While Titus drove, Evan made meticulous notes of the flame's direction, marking angles on the map. Finally he threw the pencil down triumphantly.

“He's in Salt Lake City.”

“Well, that narrows it down a little, I guess. So what, do we just go there and hope this thing points us in the right direction?”

“Too slow,” Evan called, stepping back into what used to be his bedroom and sitting at his computer. “Now I work my magic.”

After parking, Titus walked back to look over Evan's shoulder. The half-dozen monitors on the wall were flickering between rapidly-changing pictures of faces and what appeared to be CCTV footage.

“What is this?”

“This,” Evan said with dramatic pride, “is Blaccat. Facial recognition algorithms that the CIA wishesit had. I actually started working on it years ago before I thought about the implications of it, but I shelved it. I figured since I may be needing to, uh...”

“Be Batman?”

“...yeah...that I should get back to work on it. Right now it's comparing faces to the description you gave me and cycling through every damn security camera in the city looking for it.”

“How illegal is this?”

“Soooooo illegal.”

“Oh, hey, can you get into police department records?”

“Does the Pope shit in the woods?”

“See if you can get into the Las Vegas mugshots from... February 2019. Run your face-recognition thingy there.”

“Alright.... and... is that our boy?”

A handsome Latino man in his early 30s with shoulder-length jet-black hair and piercing green eyes stared at them from over a booking clipboard.

“That's him,” Titus breathed.

“Perfect! Now I just have to feed that into... wow.” Evan made a gesture and a black and white video popped up on the biggest monitor. The man in the mugshot was walking along the street, flanked by a short stocky man in bandanna and a lanky man with the ugliest white-boy dreads Evan had ever seen.

“That's him! Where is that? When is that?”

Evan grinned up at Titus. “That's live. I can track him and put us at the nearest intersection.”

Titus smiled, eye overbright, and began breathing heavily through his nose. “We got him.”

Evan met his eye and nodded. “Let's get him.”

#my writing #urban fantasy #ugly man chronicles: reignition

23 notes · View notes