#ive never until today said it out loud ive never even written it down anywhere

[beautifel]

i. hate that i cant ignore any longer how fucked up i am

[thelioncourts]

title: ask to be unbroken author: marrieddorks fandom: captive prince pairing: damen/laurent word count: 6577

Damen knew he was driving too fast. The weight of his foot on the gas pedal told him that. The way Nik’s knuckles were white on the passenger side door handle told him that. The number on the speedometer told him that.

Damen knew he was driving too fast and he didn’t care. The voicemail he had received not even half an hour ago kept playing over in his head.

“Hi, this is Thea Kashel, a nurse at Arles’ university hospital. We have a Mr. Laurent DeVere here and you’re listed as his emergency cont —”

He had been at the gym when the call first came. He had been on one of the rowing machines, finishing up a 1,000 metre row, the fifth of his circuit, when his music cut off and his screen darkened with an unrecognizable local number. It had been easy to ignore at first, his mind in that glazed-over focus it obtained when he was completely into his workout. There had been no lull in his pace, no hesitancy in his pulls, and, as though it never happened, his phone quickly returned to normal, the screen white-bright and blaring a too-loud fast-tempoed song full of forgetful lyrics.

It was about a minute later that his phone screen changed again, this time indicating a voicemail. Nik must’ve seen him huff and eventually stand to wipe at his face with the bottom of his sweat-drenched shirt and move to the back of the gym. It was Nik who managed to get the key in the ignition of the car not even five minutes later, Damen’s hands suddenly uncoordinated.

Damen knew he was driving too fast and he didn’t care. He had to get to Laurent.

It was only when the hospital came into view that Nik’s voice — hesitant, exasperated, and worried all at once — managed to filter passed the cacophony of sound in Damen’s mind.

“Damen...Damen, you need to get your head on straight before going in there. There’s a good chance other people may have already arrived, people like Jord or Nicaise or even his uncle. And,” Nik paused, his air momentarily taken away as Damen turned the steering wheel sharply. “And there’s also a good chance he might not want you there.”

Damen said nothing for a moment. He swung the car into an open parking space at the back of the lot. When the engine cut off, the silence made Damen’s adrenaline-speeding heartbeat too loud for his liking. “He might not want me there, Nik, but he needs me. Even if he’s fine, he,” Damen swallowed, “he needs me.”

[Continue on AO3]

The entirety of the walk up to the front doors, to the front desk, the elevator, and eventually the third floor’s nurses’ station was a blur. It was only when the nurse whose brown eyes reminded Damen of his mother’s asked him if he himself needed a doctor that he snapped out of his haze.

“No, I’m fine. Thank you. I’m actually here for Laurent. Laurent DeVere. I got a phone call and I got here as soon as I could.”

“You must be Damen,” she said with a smile. “No need to look so pale. Mr. DeVere is off getting x-rays, but he should be back in a few minutes. You could wait in his room if you’d like. The doctor should be with him when he gets there and he’ll go over everything with you all.”

She pointed them down the hallway to room 343. It smelled sterile and it felt cold. There were no machines beeping ominously, no IV bags dripping, no medical chart to read. The sheets of the hospital bed were still crisp and tucked neatly at the sides. There was no sign of Laurent anywhere in room 343 except for the plastic bag sitting on the cheap bedside table, letters written messily in black marker spelling out Laurent’s full name on its side.

“His stuff is all here it seems,” Nik pointed out as though Damen’s full attention wasn’t honed in on the bag with blood smeared on the inside. “The nurse didn’t seem worried, Damen,” Nik spoke again. Damen could feel Nik’s eyes burning a stare at his profile.

“They see this kind of stuff everyday. To them, he’s just a patient, Nik. They don’t know him.”

There was no response. Instead the silence took over, deafening in its strength. Nik sat down eventually on the plasticy couch by the window. Damen paced. He paced door to window and bed to wall. It was Nik who, once again, spoke first, voice casual.

“I haven’t seen Jord or Lazar. Or that tiny devil Nicaise. Or Laurent’s uncle.”

A new emotion flared in Damen’s vision at the mention, blurring, however briefly, his worry. “That bastard better not show his face here. Not today. I’m not in the mood for his word-games.”

“You’ve never told me what that man did to make Laurent, and you, hate him so much.”

“I don’t know what he’s done, really,” Damen admitted. “But Laurent can’t stomach the sight of him. And between that and the way his uncle always has the same look about him...has the same specific look in his eyes...I don’t know. I often fantasize about what it’d be like to hit him for what all he’s ever done.”

Nik’s eyebrows were furrowed, his frown deep, but whatever he was going to say was lost in the sound of voices entering the room.

There was a whole speech that had been halfway planned in Damen’s head since arriving at the hospital. He was fully aware there was some rambling, some grasping for understanding, some fretting over Laurent’s well-being, and anger all in it. But all those planned words, all the replaying of past conversations and that damned voicemail from the nurse, dissipated at the first sight of Laurent.

He looked so small. His frame was dwarfed by the wheelchair and the doctor, an already tall figure, standing at full height by his side. The hospital gown was white and light, like his skin and his hair, and it washed him out. The fluorescent lighting humming above them didn’t help in the matter.

There was an unsure moment at first. Laurent and the doctor were so deep in quiet conversation that Damen and Nik’s presence went largely unnoticed for moment. Damen has paused awkwardly in his pacing and was seemingly glued to a spot right by the bed. Nik was truly the only one of the two of them within Laurent and the doctor’s vision where they were waiting in the doorway and it took the doctor asking Laurent a question to spark everything into motion.

At first, Laurent turned to look at the room, eyes scanning for what Damen assumed was the bag containing all of his possessions. He promptly stopped at the sight of Nik who was strangely hunched on the couch as though he couldn’t determine if he wanted to stand up or run away. Less than ten seconds passed by before Laurent’s eyes kept moving on a different kind of search and Damen stepped out of the blindspot between the door and bed to give a small wave.

An all-too-familiar blank look took over Laurent’s face, one Damen had hoped to never see directed toward him again, but there wasn’t time to dwell on that, not when Laurent was saying “Thank you, Dr. Paschal,” before standing out of the wheelchair, the dismissal of the doctor too evident.

Laurent took one step, then another, and another and the something that had put him here was obvious in the way he moved. Damen was helpless from stepping forward.

“Stay where you were,” came Laurent’s clipped reply to Damen’s unvoiced concern. Damen and Nik both watched as Laurent, gently, made his way to the stiff hospital bed and eased himself into sitting on it. “If you’re going to stand there, you could at least be useful and pass me my bag.”

As it often did in situations like this, Damen’s brain chose that opportune moment to remember. It remembered the last time he and Laurent had touched. That memory was a ghost gripping hard at the barrier of past and present as their hands brushed while Damen handed over the bag. If he focused hard enough he could still feel the gentle tips of Laurent’s fingers on his palm, the heavy weight of the keys that were dropped there to replace them.

Nik must have stood while Damen was overthinking because suddenly his hand was clapping Damen’s shoulder as he muttered, “I’m going to go wait outside. Text me.”

“You smell vile,” was how Laurent chose to fill the next bout of silence.

“I was at the gym when I got the call.” He hadn’t even thought to change, to shower. Hell, thinking about it now, he was almost completely certain he had abandoned his water bottle, his jacket, and maybe even his entire gym bag in the process of getting here.

“Yes, well,” Laurent started, back to Damen as he riffled through his belongings, “there’s no need for you to be here. I tried to tell them I hadn’t gotten around to changing any of my information yet, but they were too preoccupied.”

It was an even clearer dismissal than the doctor had received. It left Damen defenseless. Yet, despite the discordant tone of Laurent’s voice, Damen still knew him. Damen reminded himself that he knew Laurent better than anyone and that was, no doubt, the driving factor of Laurent not wanting him here. Or, at least, one of the driving factors. Laurent’s shoulders were in a perfectly straight line, willfully held that way to hide just how badly he wanted to lie down or hunch over. Even from where Laurent was sitting on the bed Damen could see the bandages running over his left shoulder.

“Did you lose your hearing in the last six months?” Laurent asked rhetorically.

“You must be joking,” Damen said. There was an edge to his voice now that it was suddenly found and it caused Laurent to turn and look at Damen over his shoulder. The way his hair moved only infuriated Damen more. “We dated for over a year, Laurent. An entire year. And it took six months just to get you to talk to me for more than five minutes, let alone go on a date with me. But then you did and it turned into the best year of my life. Of course, that was before you showed up at my apartment at one in the morning to tell me that this wasn’t working out before turning around and leaving me with no explanation to the apparent shift in your feelings.” Damen was moving around the bed, his shoes loud on the hospital linoleum, until he was standing right in front of Laurent. “Then I was left with a dozen unanswered phone calls to you. And then I quit calling because I know you and I was, and am, aware that if I make you resent me in any way, there would be no shot at you even giving me the time of day. You left me with no answers, no explanations, no understanding for over half a year, Laurent. So I won’t sit and apologize for being here, for, rightfully, panicking when I received a phone call telling me you were in the hospital. Because in that moment I forgot all the unanswered calls. All I could think about was getting to you and making sure you were okay.”

The sterile smell of the room, the unwavering coldness of its impersonalness, was replaced by a charged tension. It felt like the air during a thunderstorm just before lightning struck, anticipatory and breakable, and it was so strong that Damen felt like he couldn’t breathe. The surrealness of everything was finally starting to catch up with him after the whirlwind of the last hour. He was drained.

“But you’re clearly fine and I’m clearly not wanted so I’m going to find Nik and go home. I wish you all the best with your recovery from whatever the hell happened that put you here. And you might want to change your emergency contact information today because if I ever get a call again I will be here.”

Laurent had always said that Damen could wake the dead with how loudly he walked and it was clear in the continued way his footsteps seemed to echo on this flooring. He made it to the threshold, mind clearer and heart aching, when he heard his Laurent.

“Nicaise spooked Giselle.” Damen stopped, his hand resting on the door. “I was out checking her hooves. Her back right leg had seemed a tad lagging on our ride the day before. I wanted to make sure everything was alright before taking her out again. Nicaise came running up suddenly. She kicked.”

There was the sound of rustling fabric and Damen turned around. Laurent was pulling down the left side of his hospital gown, revealing the sharp jut of his collarbone, the fine curve of his neck into his shoulder, and, further down, a large piece of gauze and bandage, still leaking with blood.

“Dr. Paschal is looking over the x-rays to make certain the pain in my sternum is just bruising and not it being broken. Otherwise they think I’m relatively fine. I just have to stay off the horse for a while.”

Laurent started fixing up his gown, eyes downcast as he pulled it gently back over his shoulder. Damen was still in the doorway, eyes glued to the shadows of Laurent’s pale eyelashes. When Laurent finally looked up, his stare was no longer blank. Damen nodded.

“Is that why Nicaise isn’t here then?”

“Oh, I think he’s embarrassed. He screamed when I went down and you know he’s going to now try to cover up the fact that he cares about me. I’m sure I won’t see or hear from him for a few days,” Laurent said, smile small and wry.

Damen’s own smile echoed as he said, “Yes, there’s something about the two of you. You don’t like people to know you care about them.”

“Excuse me,” Damen heard from behind and he turned to see the doctor back, a stack of papers in hand.

“Dr. Paschal,” Laurent said in greeting this time. The doctor made his way around Damen’s form before standing in front of Laurent in the same place Damen had just been several minutes earlier. Laurent wasn’t looking at Damen anymore.

“I’ve got your results back if —”

“He’s already aware of the situation, there’s no need for privacy,” Laurent answered the unasked question.

“Very well. In that case, you’ll be pleased to know that it is deep bruising causing most of your pain, nothing more. I’ve prescribed some pain medication to help alleviate the symptoms, but as it is a bone bruise it is going to take about two months to properly heal. Until then, I want you off of the horses for an entire month. You need to come see me at that time and from there I will determine if you’re ready to start easing your way back into the saddle.” There was a fight evident on Laurent’s face, but Dr. Paschal continued on. “You also need to take it extremely easy for some time. There is a definite need of you to have a driver for this first week of recovery. Even the weight and press of seatbelt is going to cause you discomfort.”

“Anything else?” Laurent asked drily.

“Not at the moment. I’ve already penciled in a check-up date for next month. Should there be any problems with the date or time, you can always call and reschedule.” Dr. Paschal sorted through some of the papers in hand, neatly ordering them before passing them along to Laurent. “Your prescription is just there underneath your discharge papers. I trust you have someone to drive you home tonight?”

“He does,” Damen answered, speaking for the first time since the doctor arrived. Both Dr. Paschal and Laurent turned to him.

“Excellent,” Dr. Paschal said. “Try to sleep well tonight, Mr. DeVere. Your prescription will be ready in the morning. What I gave you earlier should, at the very least, help you rest.” With that, he nodded at Damen as he left the room once again. Laurent stared after him.

“I can make other arrangements,” Laurent spoke in that same quiet voice as earlier. It was so reminiscent of Laurent at the beginning of their relationship, unsure about dating and protocol and unsure of himself for one of the first times in a long time, that Damen had to stop himself from doing something stupid.

“I’m already here.”

“You make it sound simple.”

“It is.” Laurent was staring again. “I’m going to go tell Nik. Try not to run away out the window or anything while I’m gone.”

“I don’t have a shirt without blood on it,” Laurent said quickly. Damen looked at him, watched as he clutched the plastic bag with all his belongings in it to his chest.

“I’ll go tell Nik and see if I have an extra shirt or something in my car.”

It was easy to find Nik. It was easy to find Nik, not necessarily because he was in an obvious place, the third floor waiting room, but because Damen could hear Lazar all the way back at the nurses’ station.

“Let me tell you, the clubs in Vask are incomparable to anything here. I consider myself a pretty versatile kind of guy, but I’ve never been so quick to want to get on my knees than with those do-as-I-say ladies around me.”

“Antagonizing the entire waiting room, Lazar?” Damen asked.

“Thank god,” Nik muttered, quickly standing.

“Look at you, you giant, glorious bastard,” Lazar said as hello, earning eyerolls from everyone, but the biggest one from Jord who must have had to tolerate Lazar for an entire car ride here as well. There were some quick hugs exchanged, some general life updates shared, before Damen explained that Laurent was fine and Nicaise merely had spooked his horse.

“Tiny devil,” Jord drolled.

“We ready then?” Nik’s arms were crossed, the car keys dangling from his right hand, and Damen felt himself rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Ah. No. Not really.”

“I thought I noticed a bounce to your step,” said Nik. “I trust his horse didn’t damage him in any dire way?”

“No, he should be okay. But he does need a ride home and I thought that since I’m already here…” Damen trailed off. It was easy to guess what Nik was going to say. Nik had always been Damen’s most straightforward friend, especially about relationships, and his opinion of Laurent had decreased considerably after Laurent ended things.

“I suppose there’s no arguing with you,” Nik started. “I’m tired and need a shower and you’re going to do whatever you want. And I know you want this. I suppose if it takes making Laurent physically incapable of escaping you for you to, at the very least, get some closure, then so be it.”

“You can grab a ride home with us,” Jord offered.

“Yeah, and we can pick up Pallas on the way,” Lazar said, eyebrows wagging. Nik sighed.

“I trust you won’t do anything too stupid?” he asked and with a toss the car keys were in Damen’s hands.

“Can’t guarantee that.”

“Figured as much.” Nik shrugged on his jacket. “Please don’t call me upset because Laurent continues to be a cast iron bitch until at least nine in the morning.”

“Thanks for your support!” Damen called after their retreating figures and Nik shot up his hand in a dismissive wave.

It took several minutes to get down to his car, tidy up his seats, and pull a clean, but wrinkled, t-shirt out of his bag. It was dark blue and worn-soft, the color just starting to fade. It would have to do.

The chill of the nighttime air was evident as Damen made his way back inside. His skin pimpled with gooseflesh while he stood in the elevator, absorbing the heat from the more tolerable inside temperature. Rubbing absently at his arms, Damen only realized he should have knocked a second too late. Laurent was standing there, unsteady, his riding pants pulled on again, but wearing nothing else. He looked at Damen.

“I believe my pain medication is starting to kick in.” There was no slur to his words as Laurent was more controlled than that, but the proof was there. Damen stepped forward and this time Laurent didn’t stop him.

“Let me help.”

The lightning was back. Laurent sat back down on the bed, stiff, but in the exact same place he had been when Damen left him, and he stuck out his right foot. Damen didn’t need any instruction. Silently he came over to the bed, picked up the first riding boot, and kneeled. Despite Laurent’s current state of tiredness, pain, and high levels of medication, his foot was elegantly pointed, allowing Damen to slip the boot into place quite quickly. Never one for simplicity, however, Laurent’s riding boots always had a series of laces at the front. While he pushed and pulled each one into place, Damen could feel Laurent’s stare, the manifestation of the feeling an embodiment of their proximity. He didn’t look up. A minute later he picked up the left boot and repeated the motions.

Tugging once on both sets of laces to make sure they were tied correctly, Damen finally stood, wiping his hands on the edge of his shorts.

“Here’s a shirt,” Damen said, passing over the shirt in a wad, before busying himself with the rest of Laurent’s belongings. All that had been brought with him was his wallet and phone. When Damen turned the phone over there was a list of text messages, all from Nicaise, and a single missed call, the number not given a name.

“Laurent, you —” Damen started, but his words caught in his throat. It was easy to miss the miles and miles of Laurent’s ivory skin, easy to miss its softness and touch. It had also been easy to ignore that when he had been more concerned of the bruising and blood on that exposed skin. What was impossible to ignore was the image Laurent suddenly made, swimming in Damen’s shirt.

Once again, Damen’s mind chose that opportune moment to remember and it could have been yesterday that Laurent had been bathed in morning sunlight, sweet and soft above Damen. Without even thinking too much Damen could recall the feel of Laurent’s hands, one on Damen’s shoulder and the other tangled in his hair. He could feel Laurent’s rabbit-fast pulse as he had pressed a kiss to inside of Laurent’s wrist where the skin was fine and thin.

“You’ve got that look on your face,” Laurent pointed out, palms flat on the bed. The bottom of the shirt rested on his thighs.

Damen cleared his throat. “What look?”

“The same look you had on our fourth date.” Laurent was moving as he spoke, legs wobbly as he tried to go to the wheelchair. Damen grabbed at it quickly, easing it over so Laurent could fall into it.

“Fourth date?”

“The date where I invited you inside afterward,” Laurent said. Damen paused, both hands on the handles of the wheelchair.

“Let’s get you home,” was what he decided to say and with that he was pushing the wheelchair into the hallway. He gave a quick wave to the nurse at the nurses’ station and, when in the main lobby, politely asked one of the nurses to keep an eye on Laurent while he went and got the car.

Getting into the car was a quiet affair. Laurent shoved at Damen’s hands as he tried to lift him into the passenger side seat, but they were quickly on the road, Damen turning left at the second stoplight instead of right. He tried not to think about how right it felt to be heading toward Laurent’s house.

“I see you’re still listening to garbage,” Laurent said with no heat. Damen looked over at him out of the corner of his eye. The street lights they were passing highlighted the aristocratic upturn of Laurent’s nose. Damen’s eyes then ventured to his center console where his phone had automatically connected to Bluetooth and was quietly playing the last song he had been listening to at the gym, some meaningless high-tempoed chart-topper.

“You know I can only listen to garbage when I’m at the gym,” Damen agreed. He went straight at the stoplight.

Laurent hummed. Whether it was a hum of acknowledgement or a hum of distaste, Damen wasn’t certain. He pressed the volume button, muting the sound altogether.

When they finally pulled up to Laurent’s house, Damen was hit with a wave of familiarity so strong that he pressed the brakes a tad too hard.

Laurent’s house, otherwise known as The Manor, was all that was left of the DeVere family. Well, the house and Laurent himself. The Manor was a larger-than-life gothic house, its exterior made of stone and pillars and pointed archways. Damen knew that if you stood underneath any of the arches you would see intricate carvings of people and places, carvings that paled in comparison to the flamboyant interior. When Laurent had first brought Damen here, he told him the nickname he had given this place was the Viper Pit.

It had always been assumed that Laurent would eventually leave The Manor. But Damen also knew that the large stables and riding area were too good to let go of. And Damen knew Laurent would never rid of his horses, especially Giselle.

“Wait here, I’m going to go open the door and get some lights on so it’s easier to get you inside,” Damen said, turning off the car. “No worries, I remember where your spare key is.”

The house was chilly inside and, after getting the entryway, hallway, kitchen, and Laurent’s bedroom lights on, Damen went over to the thermostat and cranked it up a good two degrees.

“It’s slightly worrisome how well you remember my home,” Laurent said to him as he walked back to the car.

“And why is that?”

“You’ve seen the news headlines. ‘Crazy man breaks into his ex’s house.’” Laurent was trying to stand. “You seem to know my house better than even I do.”

“Do you really think I would ever do such a thing?” Damen asked incredulously, starting to reach for Laurent who was now too aware of his difficulties of motor function.

“No, my honorable barbarian, I don’t think you would. If you weren’t such a good man, it would be terrifyingly worrisome, however.”

“Here, let me,” Damen started, hand sliding underneath Laurent’s right knee.

“Don’t make me regret what I just said,” Laurent said with a hint of ice, but his hand was steady on Damen’s shoulder, allowing him to pull him out of the car while safely ducking his head from hitting the car at all.

“It worries me how worried you seem to be about me taking advantage of you.”

“Well, do forgive me. It’s not you as much as it’s the rest of the men around me.”

Damen was baring all Laurent’s weight, being as gentle as he could with Laurent’s left side. It took them several minutes to make it inside the front door at that pace, but Laurent only winced once in pain during it.

When the door was finally closed and locked, they began their large trek, this time down the exceedingly long hallway to the last room on the right. Damen guided Laurent over to the desk chair as it was closest to the closet and dresser drawers.

“Let’s get you into some comfortable clothes for sleeping,” Damen said, already moving to the second drawer where he knew Laurent’s sleep shirts were located.

“I’d like to stay in this shirt, if that’s alright,” Laurent said to him, fingers tangled at the hem of the blue material.

“Does your shoulder hurt too much to change?” Damen asked, worried that the pain medication wasn’t doing its job.

“No, but this smells like you. I’d like to keep it on.”

Damen swallowed and turned back to the drawers, pushing the second one back in and pulling at the third one instead, shuffling around for a pair of basic sweatpants.

“I think you’ve forgotten,” Damen mumbled as he pulled out the first pair of soft black material he found.

“Forgotten what?” Laurent asked. Damen silently damned Laurent’s keen mind for paying attention in this state.

“We’re broken up, Laurent,” Damen told him slowly, eyebrows a little furrowed in his uncertainty. He felt like he was treading dangerous waters and soon he would be drowning if he didn’t keep his head up.

“I haven’t forgotten that,” Laurent said. His voice was quiet.

Damen watched him for a moment, took in the shallow movements of his chest, took in the way his blue eyes had seemed to darken to match the shade of Damen’s shirt, took in the intensity of his stare. Like in the hospital room, Damen kneeled, this time to pull off the intricate laces. It was different now. Laurent’s bedroom was a familiar place, a place of intimacy. Laurent’s bedroom was their first time.

It was impossible not to think about it as he grasped Laurent’s right foot. Laurent had been right earlier, it was their fourth date that Laurent had invited Damen inside. Unlike some of Damen’s past dates, Laurent hadn’t even attempted to guise it as a nightcap or a cup of coffee to finish the night away with. Laurent had known what he had wanted and he made it very clear that what he wanted was Damen in his bedroom. It hadn’t been ten minutes later that Damen had ended up in a position not all that different to the one he was in now, only his mouth was preoccupied and Laurent’s mind-drunk state was caused by pleasure as opposed to medication.

When the boots were off, it was easy to pull Laurent’s riding pants off of his legs and pull on the cotton sweats. Laurent was a different figure when he wasn’t dressed so austerely. The illusion hadn’t been there at any point of the night, not with the hospital gown and Damen’s own oversized shirt, but even Laurent out of his boots and his riding pants was a figure unguarded. Standing tall, Damen looked down to ask Laurent if anything else was needed first when Laurent gazed up at him and said, so earnestly, “I miss you. I miss our conversations.”

It was too much for Damen. The entire night had too much for Damen, but this moment was heady in how it preyed on Damen’s emotions.

“You’re not yourself,” Damen said quickly. “I need to take you to bed.”

“Then, take me.”

“You’re going to hate us both in the morning,” Damen told Laurent, more for his own sake than anything. “Especially because I’m staying here. God help us.”

He half-dropped, half-poured Laurent onto the bed and tried not to look at Laurent’s hooded eyes as he pulled the blankets up around his neck.

“Try to get some rest,” Damen said after switching off the light.

Even though there was a good half-a-dozen guest bedrooms within The Manor, Damen wasn’t comfortable in any of them. With a sigh, he grabbed a blanket out of the hallway closet, trying not to think about the time a storm had knocked the power out and he and Laurent had felt their way along the walls, giggling like idiots until they found the same closet for blankets to keep warm. The couch would do for the night.

When he awoke a few short hours later, the sun was high up in the sky and Laurent was still in bed. As quietly as he could, Damen folded up the blanket he had used, meandered his way to the kitchen, started up the coffee maker with a few minutes of preparation, and filled up a glass of water to pair with the bottle of ibuprofen. Damen had left Laurent’s door open through the night so he could better listen for any extreme movements on Laurent’s part. Having heard nothing, Damen walked in expecting to see Laurent in his favorite sleeping position, on his side, right leg slightly bent, and the pillow hugged longwise against his body. Damen nearly jumped when, instead, he walked in to Laurent wide-eyed and watching the door.

“I was wondering when you would make your way in here,” Laurent said, voice low with unuse.

“I didn’t expect you to be awake.”

“I haven’t been very long.”

Damen walked the water and bottle of ibuprofen over to Laurent. “This should tide you over until you can get your pain medication today.”

He watched silently as Laurent popped off the top of the medicine bottle and dumped three pills into his palm. With one, two swallows, he had them and two gulps of water down.

“I apologize,” Laurent said suddenly. It startled Damen and he almost dropped the still-open ibuprofen bottle on the floor. Laurent’s cheeks were pink with the barest hint of color, hands tangled in the dark blue sheet at his waist.

“For what?”

Laurent huffed with a bit of amusement. “For not changing my emergency contact information, for being the way I was to you when you first got to the hospital, for getting over-medicated and unable to control my mouth. I could go on, but I’m sure you get the idea.”

“Don’t worry about it. Any of it.”

“I meant what I said last night, or what I implied. You are a good man, Damen. Any other would not have shown up and definitely would not have stayed.”

As last night had proven, Laurent got talkative when he was uncomfortable and even moreso when he was uncomfortable and intoxicated in someway. But Damen knew himself and he got talkative when he was overwhelmed with emotion. He begged his mind to think before his mouth spoke.

“Why did you end things then?” Damen damned himself. “If your opinion of me is still what you said, if your ramblings last night were any indication of your unfiltered thoughts then why? And why —”

“Damen, there are no complete answers to any questions that you have,” Laurent sighed.

“You have answers and motives to everything you say and do. Don’t sit there and lie to me again. You can’t say the things you say without consequences, Laurent!” Damen could feel himself losing control and he didn’t care. “I can’t get over you. You’re in my thoughts every single day. I’ve been worried sick about you, wondering if you’re alright, if I should have fought harder to get back to you. I’ve contemplated everything that I left unsure about, like the walls you put up around yourself and the bizarre relationship you have with your uncle. I’ve got burned into memory the way you open your eyes in the morning and the feel of your hair and the fact that you can come from my lips on your neck and nothing more. And I can’t get closure from any of it because it ended with you at my front door at an ungodly hour with that horrible blank look on your face and no reason as to why you handed back the spare keys to my apartment like we weren’t getting ready to move in together.”

“Look around you, Damen.” There was ice back in Laurent’s voice and his eyes matched. “I’m in an empty mansion of a house. The only other souls on this god forsaken lot of land are my horses and, occasionally, Nicaise. That is, when he manages to get out of my uncle’s sight for a moment. There is no future here. Not now and maybe not ever. And you,” Laurent laughed, the sound cruel, “you don’t want this. You can try and convince yourself that you do, but you don’t. I only pushed the fast-forward button on what was already going to happen. You can thank me when you’ve got your wife and your two and a half kids in a few years.”

It was Damen’s turn to laugh and he himself could hear the hysterical edge to it. It must have went well with how comically wide his eyes were. “So there wasn’t any actual reason? You ended things because you made an assumption of my wants and needs and decided that was that? You’re selfish.”

“Oh, yes, heaven forbid I think about your happiness,” Laurent rolled his eyes.

“You are my happiness!” Damen was moving, his knees hitting the hard and cold floor right at the edge of the bed, making him eye-level with Laurent’s frozen expression. “I had never experienced love until you came into my life. Everyday, even the bad days, were so good because you were by my side. And I wanted to spend all of my days with you. I was ready to spend all of my days with you.”

“Then you’re a fool.” Damen could hear the tremor there, Laurent’s own carefully calculated control disappearing into being himself.

“Maybe so.” His hand, on its own volition, tucked a strand of blond hair behind Laurent’s ear. They both shuddered. “Nik always says so.”

“Nik’s never liked me.”

“Yeah, that’s why he thinks I’m a fool.”

“My life is about to get incredibly messy.” Laurent’s voice had a different kind of edge to it. “I don’t say that in any kind of hyperbolic way. I mean it literally. Anyone who is part of my life is going to get dragged into it, innocent or not.”

“I don’t care,” Damen said, moving to sit on the edge of the bed instead of on the floor.

“But anyone who —”

“I just told you,” Damen cut him off, “I want to spend all of my days with you, even the bad ones.”

“You’re a fool.”

“Kiss me.”

Laurent didn’t protest, Damen was riding the highest wave of an emotional tsunami, and Laurent’s lips were as soft as Damen remembered. There was a hesitancy at first, Laurent’s head pillowed by the headboard, his hands firmly planted on the mattress, but then he yielded to the kiss, sank into it like he was touch-starved. Damen’s hand, the same one that had tucked a stray strand of hair, brushed over Laurent’s jaw, over the apple of his cheek, softly.

“My chest,” Laurent muttered breathlessly against Damen’s lips when they parted.

“What? Oh!” Damen exclaimed suddenly, pulling back too fast, hands soothing over Laurent’s left shoulder. “We should probably change the bandage?”

“Probably.”

“I think the doctor gave you some in a mix of all the paperwork, I’ll go —”

“Damen?”

“Yes?”

“Kiss me.” Laurent was pink again with the demand. Damen thought his heart might beat out of his chest.

Practically bouncing his way to the kitchen — which now smelled of freshly brewed coffee — a few minutes later, Damen made certain to check the time on the clock before pulling out the fresh bandages.

Nik had said not until nine and it was now half past that. Damen would give him a call soon.

[michaelmyersmalewife]

LEVIATHAN | 15. Epilogue | MASTERLIST

words: 3k+

A/N: and there it is :') im still in shock that the second ever fic i finished is fuxjcking about godzilla of all things (and clocking in at about 80k+ words in total, it’s the longest thing ive written so that’s fitting i guess) but ngl, i had the most fun writing it and i actually felt motivated and even excited to start a new chapter ?? and it feels almost a little weird to see it end; anyway, it always feels nice to finish a project ur passionate about, no matter how self indulgent it is

you can also support this fic on wattpad & ao3

Jodie adjusted the mic on Dr. Graham's blazer.

It had been a long time since she had seen her so nervous, not since the mass awakening. But she couldn't blame her. She tried giving her a reassuring smile, but the woman was staring just past her shoulder, at the wall behind them.

"Uh, Dr. Graham?" Coleman cleared his throat as his head peeked through the door. "You're on in about in a minute."

Vivienne snapped to attention almost immediately, and Jodie stepped away. The doctor wrung her hands as she took a deep breath, taking a tentative step towards the door.

It was a big day, one that could potentially take a step toward mending Monarch's relations with the government and the public alike. Or, it could just make it worse. Jodie already felt her heart thunder in her chest, the start of a headache forming in the back of her head. She had suspected the oncoming barrage of conferences and hearings and the like after Boston, but she didn't think it would happen this soon.

"You got this, Viv." she punctuated with a thumbs-up.

The smallest of smiles appeared on her face before she turned away. Taking a deep breath, Dr. Graham stepped through the door, and in the brief moment before it closed Jodie could see the flashing of camera lights illuminate her form. Now, all she could do was wait.

Sitting down at one of the tables in the small, rectangular room, she pulled out her tablet from her bag. Things had been so hectic - what with being tasked with co-running the Monarch archive that Sam had created - that she barely had any time to catch up with her usual journalistic endeavors. She scrolled through the influx of newsletters that had flooded her inbox over the past couple weeks. It was odd, suddenly seeing 'deforestation halts across the globe', '14th species to be taken off the endangered list', and 'coral reefs restored' among other things. The general public was still unsure about titans as a whole, but their importance was undeniable.

Suddenly, she could hear Vivienne's muffled voice from just beyond the door.

"The Rise of the Titans was an unspeakable tragedy, one that we may never truly recover from. And while we've done all we can to track and contain the ones that were released, we have confirmed that they've begun to retreat to their natural habitats on their own. But it seems that is only the beginning. We believe that there are more titans to be discovered, ones that Ghidorah's call was not able to reach."

There was a massive uproar after that, but Jodie drowned them out. Or, tried to at least. Just then, a notification popped up at the top of the tablet's screen. It was a video call - from China's Yunnan Province. Opening it without hesitation, a livestream filled the screen.

It was Gill. Jodie had been waiting in anticipation for the stream to start, as she was just as excited as the rest of the expedition team for the trek into Mothra's temple. Though, Gill probably had her beat in that aspect.

The feed crackled every now and then, the soft fuzz of radiation seeping through the camera. It was dimly lit, but a fair amount of what looked like a tunnel was illuminated by a handful flashlight beams. It looked like they were walking down a spiral staircase, if those stairs had been carved straight out of the earth. Every now and then they would pass by tall, wide pillars. Just ahead of Gill's point of view were two figures leading the expedition.

In the background, just behind the door, the rabble died down and Graham continued with her speech.

"Which is why Monarch is currently developing a more effective means of dealing with the titans that will potentially..inevitably..wake in the coming years. More effective than our current containment facilities. Now, these plans are still in early development but we will make sure to provide you with regular updates as the project progresses. Which leads me to our next point,"

They had been walking for a while now. And every now and then someone would speak, but their voices would be difficult to make out. Just how far down had they gone?

Suddenly, the static on the camera spiked, filling the screen for a brief second before stabilizing. The feed was still fuzzy, but Jodie could tell they had entered a large chamber. As the flashlights fanned out, Gill's camera swept through the chamber.

There was a raised dais in the center of the room, and on either side were impossibly massive statues. They were identical, and they both depicted women standing almost protectively, their arms splayed out, pointing to something between them. Something massive.

Gill and the two figures that had remained ahead of her approached the object, while the others continued inspecting the rest of the room. One of the figures turned around, looking at Gill with raised eyebrows. It was Chen, and it wasn't too out of the question to assume the person by her side was her sister Ling.

They both pointed their flashlights at the object.

"As of now, Monarch will be operating with full transparency. In accordance with the United Nations, 60 years worth of our documentation regarding titans will be freely available to the public. And with each new discovery, there will be no more secrets. No more hiding. In a post-Godzilla world our mission was to provide a means of defense against every titan we uncovered. And now we believe that staying informed is the greatest defense of all."

Gill's camera was facing downward now, glancing at the EKG monitor in her hand. It was steady, but every other few seconds she could hear the beep of a heartbeat. The object on the massive platform was alive. Jodie felt a wave of chills rush down her spine.

Gill and the twins focused their flashlights onto the object, condensing into one beam. Jodie suppressed a gasp as she realized what the object was.

It was an egg, a giant egg about the size of two buses stacked on top of each other. It was a dull blue and yellow, with light white-ish spots accenting the striped pattern. She heard Gill laugh, unbelieving of the find. She turned to face the twins, and they had each lay a hand on the egg, staring up at it with the lightest of smiles on their faces.

Covering her bases, Jodie thought to herself. She couldn't help but smile along with them.

"We hope that with this new development, we can navigate this new era not just together, but with the titans as well."

_____

Darkness.

She couldn't tell if the void she was in was the size of a crawlspace or the entire universe. But what she did know was that it was pitch black, and it was cold.

She took a step forward, but found that she was frozen. She tried to wriggle her fingers, kick her legs, anything that would allow her the slightest of movement, but it was all futile. Elena could do nothing but silently scream into the abyss, the deafening silence threatening to push at the fabric of her mind.

She was about ready to give up her struggle until she heard it. The laughter.

That same lilting cackle.

It kept echoing throughout the space, three separate sounds melting into something so loud she thought her eardrums would pop. She wasn't sure if she was screaming or sobbing, but she had to find a way out.

Get out get out stop laughing let me OUT -

Elena shot up in bed, eyes wide and tear stains trailing down her cheeks. That was the third time that month where she had "The Dream", as she had been referring to it as. With a shaky hand, she wiped the drying trails away with her palms, quietly looking around her room. It was cold, and the blanket was so warm, but yet she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, brows creasing in annoyance as she reached for the alarm that blared in her ears.

She lay there in the stiff bed for a moment, face half-buried in her pillow as she stared ahead in the dimly lit room. There was an ache in her bones that had never quite left her since the battle of Boston, and some days it wasn't anything more than a dull stiffness that would soon fade as the day went on. But there were others where it spread anywhere it could reach, seeping into her limbs and leaving her wanting to never get out of bed again. Today was one of those days.

For all its inconveniences, she couldn't hate the feeling - not completely. She liked to think of it as proof that she was alive. But that didn't mean it wasn't a bitch to deal with.

Eventually, she knew she would have to drag herself up and out unless she wanted someone knocking at her door, so she did. Swinging her legs over the mattress, she pushed herself up, shuffling to the bathroom. Brushing her teeth, the lukewarm water hitting her face in the shower - it all felt hazy through the sheet of grogginess that still clouded her mind. It wasn't until she looked at the time while getting dressed that she finally snapped back to reality.

Grumbling to herself, she shot out into the hall of Castle Bravo's living quarters, messily tying her hair back in a ponytail as she walked.

It wouldn't have taken her so long to reach the command center had she not decided to stop by the mess hall, picking up a cold bagel and a cup of black coffee. Discreetly popping a painkiller in her mouth, she took a swig out of the cup, walking over to the figures standing in front of an array of controls.

"Well, it's about time." Dr. Stanton said, glancing over his shoulder before returning to his screen, staring intently at the steady beeping that came from the monitor. "Tall, dark, and atomic over here isn't the most patient of lizards, you know."

Elena made no comment save for a roll of the eyes as she ambled over to the front of the room, approaching the wide window that took up half of the wall. Godzilla was just on the other side, multiple drones flagging him like remoras with their floodlights trained on his form. He didn't look particularly upset, but he didn't look too happy either. It was hard to tell with him sometimes. But he seemed to be in a good mood nonetheless, or about as good a mood as the newly crowned "king" could be. But that was likely due in part to the minuscule figure just ahead of her.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor was Madison.

She looked up, giving her a quick wave and a small smile. Elena gave her a friendly nod, crossing her arms and trying not to look directly at the titan as she leaned against the window. Elena wasn't too keen on being around the titan even now, but the child had insisted she be there to 'send him off'.

"Am I interrupting?" she asked.

The girl shook her head. "Nah, he's gonna leave in a little while anyway."

She nearly sighed from relief. "Busy schedule, huh?"

"I guess," Madison shrugged. "Says he's got somewhere to be."

Not too far away from them was a large, mobile screen. Hooked up to it with a handful of thick wires was a familiar device. The ORCA 2.0's soft humming thrummed throughout the control room as a series of words appeared on the screen.

> YOU MAKE IT SOUND SO CASUAL

Madison snorted. "I'm sure whatever you need to do isn't as dramatic as you say it is."

> IF ALL GOES WELL

> THEN HOPEFULLY IT WON'T BE

Elena slightly raised a brow, but she decided not to ask any questions. Since Boston, her fear of the lizard had significantly faded, but she still found herself on edge whenever she was around him, no matter how much Madison reassured her.

"You won't be gone long, right?"

> YOU WORRY TOO MUCH

> TINY SPEAKER

Madison grinned sheepishly at the comment. Smiles like those were rare for her. From her mother's detainment to her father insisting she be given a "proper" education outside of Monarch's programs, Elena suspected the time she spent using the new and improved ORCA were moments of relief. It almost reminded her of..her. Or at least a long lost version of herself.

In that moment, Godzilla's eyes wandered from the girl over to Elena. She felt herself stiffen, but the lizard himself didn't seem to notice. At least, he didn't make it obvious that he did. Instead he let out a snort, a trail of bubbles fluttering above him. Madison had tried coaxing her into talking to him, even to say a simple 'hello'. But she wasn't sure if she was ready, not yet.

> I'LL SEE YOU

> WHEN I SEE YOU

As he began to turn around, Madison waved him off. Elena simply watched, taking a bite out of the bagel still in her hand. With a strong whip of his tail, he shot away from the base. The drones around him returned to their stations, and the ORCA 2.0 quieted as its translation feed shut off automatically.

"Where did he say he was going anyway?" Elena asked as she watched the titan disappear into the blue.

Madison stood up, smoothing out the jacket that had bunched up behind her. In a voice that was all too calm, she answered.

"Skull Island."

_____

Mateo led the men clad in black uniforms down the dimly lit corridor.

Despite their seemingly calm demeanor, they made him nervous, what with their heavy boots and steely gazes. None of them were talkers by any means, but that wasn't what made them seem..off. It was something in the way they acted, the way they spoke that unnerved him. It's not that they didn't act human, it's that they were trying too hard to be. That was especially true for the man that he assumed was their leader. Mateo had known people like him before, hungry for power no matter the cost. He didn't ask many questions, for at this point he just wanted their deal to be over and done with. Despite how uneasy they made him, he couldn't back out now. They were the ones that had approached him, after all.

And even if he could refuse them, it wouldn't have made much of a difference. The world had been changed forever. Much of his family and friends were either dead or scattered around the world due to the mass evacuations held just mere months before. He hated remembering it, how he could have been there for his family.

He had happened to be out at sea when Rodan woke from his slumber deep beneath the island's volcano, and he had been near enough to witness the drop of a bomb that left the waters lifeless. And during Ghidorah's storm, he had managed to make it to shelter. When it was all over, not many of his old relations were left. But he still had his boat and his fishing gear, even though they hadn't served much of a purpose since then. The island's seas were barren, and all the fish that had been killed during the bomb were poisoned.

But somehow, luck had been with him. He had made a good catch, and the strange men had come to pay him for it. Or they would just kill him and take it without a word.

They didn't look like any of the military folk he had ever seen, but they had a similar air to them. And in his experience, that usually did not bode well. But he had run out of choices, and he couldn't do much other than continue to lead them further down the warehouse.

"It's a brave new world, my friend." he told the leader with the calmest tone he could manage. "Such things as this have become much more valuable since the rise of the king."

The leader said nothing. Mateo swallowed nervously.

"Took nine fishing boats to raise it," he continued. "My men, they don't ask for much. Just enough to help their families."

Finally, he saw the entrance to the room where their prize lay.

"Can't fish here anymore..everything's dead."

As they reached the open warehouse space, he saw his men waiting to the side. They all seemed just as uneasy as him. But not because of the swarm of men behind him, but by the source of the stench of death that permeated throughout the room.

He flipped on the lights, and prayed that it was what they were looking for. His coworkers stepped away from it, recoiling as if it could strike them at any moment.

Even in death, covered in seaweed and barnacles, his once golden scales dulled by decay, Ghidorah's head was still terrifying. He had seen it happen, when Godzilla tore it off with his bare teeth and dropped it in the sea just before the bomb hit. He didn't have the slightest idea as to why these strangers payed him and his men to fish it out, but he knew - vaguely - how much titan parts ran on the market. He refused to dabble in that sort of thing, as something about it made him feel wrong. But evidently, whatever they were planning to do with it, the leader had no such qualms.

The leader stepped into the light, walking so close that he was able to touch the creature. As the white-haired man placed a hand on its slimy, rotting flesh, he stared up at it with an unsettling expression. His eyes were as placid as a lake, almost expressionless, and yet he was smiling. But there was nothing denoting happiness in that smile. It was the sort that his father used to call la sonrisa del diablo.

For the first time since his arrival, the man spoke.

"We'll take it."

[impulseislost]

If This is The End (1)

so this is one ive been working on and off on. and have nothing pre written so we do like men i guess ahaha. That being sorry if it seems clunky at all

Warnings: Uh.. In this case, Swearing, mentions of kidnapping/disappearances, some really bad medical work is done at one point. uhhhhh i think thats all??

Word Count: 5000+ 

Twilight

There was a quiet around him. The sort that only rested after a battle. Where all was still and the only sounds came from the dead underfoot or the dying. Never the living.

He'd witnessed this scene again and again. An empty field where he had stood so many times, a cold dread resting in his stomach as he searched for the bodies of people he had known. He didn't expect his team to be among them, yet. His boys were among the top of their game.

But Chan still remembered Jaebum's screams after Youngjae disappeared. Screams that still haunted his dreams. He still remembered the way BamBam, as he so chose to be called though gods knew why, held back his leader. The way that the tortured screams of the elder had echoed around them.

Even Felix hadn't slept well after that episode.

He sighed, as he picked his way across the bodies, nodding at one of Jaebum's team (Jackson he thought), as he passed. They were all doing the same ritual as him. Checking for their fallen and loved ones.

"Hyung." A voice cut through his thoughts, crackling over his line, distracting him from his search as he kicked the body of some red-headed male over. Relief filled Chan's veins as the face matched none of the pictures currently shown in his database.

"Hyung." The boy called him again, bringing him back to the present.

"Yes?" He kicked another body, blonde this time. Not quite the same shade, but still enough to make him check.

"Hyung, you need to get back to camp now." Camp. The one place in the world Chan wanted to be less than the bunkers.

"He's right. We need you." Another voice cut in, and the man found himself sighing as he picked his way back across the carnage. He supposed if he had found no bodies of any others yet, then there was a slim chance they were there. He needed a change from the carnage of the previous battle anyway.

He sighed, kicking up a weapon as he passed it and eyed it. Nothing he recognised. He sounded frantic, like there was something wrong, Chan noted to himself as he replayed the data of the call through one of his ear pieces. Hyung, you need to get to camp now, he never says I have to do anything, like that.

He bit his lip, worrying it as he moved. The tone the younger had used worried him for no good reason. It was then it hit him, Jeongin was panicking and that worried him more.

The ten minute run back to base was nerve wracking. He'd abandoned the caution and grace he normally moved with, sprinting until he was there. With the other... Seven? The man quickly counted, reaching his arms for Jeongin, who buried himself into the elder's chest as soon as he could.

The missing member of their group faded from his mind briefly as he took in the shaking boy in his arms. Then at Woojin, who's eyes were downcast, as if he were hiding something. Chan's eyes flicked around the assorted boys in front of him. Taking a roll call in a way.

Woojin, Jeongin, Changbin, Hyunjin, Seungmin, Minho, Jisung... Where's Felix? Chan's eyes widened, and he glanced at Woojin with a question. The elder fidgeted, avoiding his gaze.

"Where's Felix?" He asked quietly, to the entire group. He felt Jeongin's breath shudder, and saw Woojin freeze. He waited, a full minute according to his database, before he continued.

"Well? Is anyone going to tell me where he is?" Chan’s voice was quiet as he quickly searched for Felix's contact on his database, and tried to connect a line. He frowned sharply when it failed to connect. He glanced at Woojin again, as he quickly looked down. Frustration began to prickle at him, and he hissed in annoyance.

Jeongin flinched, pulling away and diving into Woojin's arms to hide. The latter dropped his weapon, causing it to flicker on and off once with a loud noise, as he wrapped his arms around the youngest in the group.

"That's… That's the problem." He muttered, looking anywhere but Chan, hell even twisting to look at the fake buildings behind them. He could see the pale blue of the ones they had set up a few nights ago from back here, next to they green of Jaebum's team. Woojin sighed, tapping Jeongin on the shoulder and leaning down to whisper to him.

"You have to show him, Jeonginnie." He murmured to him quietly, so that Chan wouldn't hear. He felt the boy tense, more than saw it, a quiet sob escaping him.

"Hyung, why me?"

"Because you were the one who found it, and he was your responsibility today." Jeongin whimpered again, pushing himself away from Woojin and clearing his throat.

"Um, hyung," he started in a quiet voice, looking away from Chan before looking up at him and continuing in a slightly stronger tone, "Channie hyung."

Chan raised an eyebrow, lowering his hand from where it'd been tapping at a screen only he could see. Jeongin swallowed sharply, reaching out a hand for Woojin. The elder’s fingers threaded through his, squeezing his hand gently for support.

"Felix, is uh... Felix is gone." His voice wobbled, as he watched Chan narrowing his eyes at the youngest in his team.

"This isn't a funny joke, Jeongin, I need you to seriously tell me where he is." The boy flinched, as Chan said this, letting himself be swallowed back up into Woojin's warm embrace.

"I-I... I'm not... I'm not joking, hyung. Felix is gone. H-he left his weapon out in the... In the field and, um..." He trailed off, sending a picture of the weapon lying on the dirty ground to Chan. They all knew what it looked like.

Felix had gotten the damned thing coloured a pale blue when it was made, against protocol, and the power lines that normally glowed a soft purple under the boys touch were dull. Chan's eyebrows furrowed, and he held out his hand, motioning for the weapon to be handed to him in proper.

Jeongin's breath hitched, and he reached behind him to draw the capsule out, shaking as he passed it to the leader. The normally warm grip was cold, and didn't light up or activate when Chan touched the hollow. He nodded slowly.

"Alright Lix, you can come out now. This isn't funny." He called in English, turning in a slow circle.

"Hyung, with all due respect, in what world would Felix ever leave his weapon behind like that?" Chan's head jerked to face Jisung, the blind boy leaning on Changbin heavily, his breath coming out harshly. He tilted his head, so the dulled colour of his eyes drifted to meet Chan's, before wincing and clenching them tightly shut.

"Felix was, ecstatic, when he got that made. What makes you think, he would ever let that leave his side?" He slumped, slipping in Changbin’s grasp, before pulling his head back up to stare at the elder. Chan winced at the boy's appearance. Blood covered, and trembling, Jisung looked like he was moments away from collapsing. Which, considering the extensive use of his mods, he most likely was.

"Really think about it hyung." Chan tore his eyes away to look back down at the pale blue instrument in his hand. The man stared at it, taking in the worn cylinder shape before cursing.

"Shit." He muttered, glancing around the group as a whole, eyebrows furrowing again as he passed the device back to Jeongin.

"Who was supposed to be with him today? Why was Felix by himself?" He asked quietly, examining carefully. His eyes caught onto the way Jeongin seemed to sink into himself, how his gaze fluttered anywhere but Chan. He waited a moment longer, before the younger hesitantly stepped forwards, his hands fidgeting together.

"Me, hyung. We, um... got separated half way through, I wasn't able to, um… Find him again after. Sorry." He mumbled, before diving back into Woojin's arms to hide. There was a moment of silence, where the whole group watched Chan with unease, as the man took a deep breath and nodded.

"You two were at the perimeter breach then?" At a nod from the younger boy, Chan just rubbed his face, letting out a slow breath.

"Right then. You all get back to camp. Changbin, make sure you get Jisung to his bed. He looks like he's about to collapse." He ordered quickly, watching as Jisung promptly started whining at him and as Seungmin reached over for Hyunjin, pulling the taller boy to his feet.

The boy stared down at the ground as they walked through the gap between more tightly compacted homes, clenching and unclenching his fists. His companion watched, in quiet remorse. Hyunjin would talk in his own time, he was always like that, and Minho didn't want to force him.

"I could've been there." The quiet sounds of the other had Minho alert, walking faster to catch up with the other, his head tilted slightly to the side. He took a moment to sort out his words before he replied.

"What?"

"I could have been there with Felix. I should've known Jeongin was still recovering, fuck, I helped him bandage his wounds this morning," Hyunjin turned to face him, eyes wider than normal, "I knew and I still let him go, with Felix."

"And if it hadn't been Felix who'd vanished, it'd probably would've been Jeongin. Are you really going to condemn him, the youngest of our unit, because you want to save a foreigner? News flash, that's pretty shitty of you, Hyunjin." Minho hadn't meant for it to come out so harsh, or as pained as it did, but the words stopped the other dancer. He looked like he wanted to raise a hand and slap him.

"Well at least we'd know that if it was Jeongin, he would be fine. He doesn't need to be paired up like Felix does. Or like you and Jisung. Honestly, it's a wonder any of you three made it out of the training barracks in the first place," He sounded bitter, "Hell, you probably only got moved out because you're a human poster boy for our unit."

Minho flinched, the colour leaving his face. That had stung a bit. Hyunjin of all people knew how hard he had worked to get this far. The long, sleepless nights he'd had where he'd gone over a single module over and over, on repeat until he could repeat it backwards to you in his sleep. Hyunjin seemed to realised what he’d said a moment later, because his eyes widened and he took a step towards the elder.

"Hyung, I--"

"Don't. Just, don't." Minho cut him off, stepping back out of his reach. He swallowed, taking a deep breath.

"Don't, don't say anything. You know, exactly what the fuck you said. And maybe you weren't thinking, but you fucking need to. Do you know, how hard, I worked to get to this point. How hard, Jisung worked to get to where he is? How hard, Felix worked?" He was shaking, he knew he needed to stop. Stop now.

"You know what? This wouldn't have even been a problem if you hadn't made assumptions about what I thought about Jeongin. This whole thing could've been avoided if you'd kept your damned mouth shut!" Hyunjin snapped back, turning on his heel and stalking off through the homes.

Minho stood there, stunned for a moment before he huffed and turned away, to start heading the other way. To his surprise, a darker haired young man stood there, leaning on the pale lavender of the wall next to him. Jisung tilted his head, staring way too far off to be looking at him, but Minho knew he was listening, all the same.

"That could've been handled better by both of you. Really." He stated, in a dry voice. Minho swallowed, eyes flicking anywhere but the younger. There was a tense moment before Jisung turned away.

"How much of that did you hear?" Minho asked cautiously, as he watched the boy rest his hand on the structure next to him, and use it to lead his way back to their area with a practiced manner.

"I heard enough. You two weren't exactly the quietest." He winced at the reply, quickly moving to follow the boy back, "It's fun to see you two arguing over some stupid shit like Felix going missing."

The sarcasm was so dense Minho could practically cut it. Another moment passed and he started following Jisung back, quickly catching up to the boy and offering him an arm to lean on. Jisung clearly hesitated, before leaning his weight fully on the elder, with a barely muffled whimper.

"I know all of us hate it, but... We have to be strong. Fighting with Hyunjin isn’t being strong." He whispered, brushing dark hair off his face. He didn't need to see past it, he just disliked the feeling of it on his face. Or that's what he said anyway. Minho sighed, holding the boy up as they walked.

"You're supposed to be asleep you know. Chan hyung would have a fit if he saw you here now." He whispered instead of replying to the younger. Jisung shrugged once, shoulders rising and falling.

"Couldn't sleep, mess tents over there somewhere. I was gonna go get something to eat, but..." Minho winced again, before hesitantly wrapping his other arm around the other boy to hug him.

"Sorry." Jisung shrugged again.

Seungmin let his head fall back and hit the wall behind him with a sharp yelp, as Woojin cleaned his wound with quick, gentle movements. Beside him, Changbin sat reading one of the elder's books, engrossed in the writing on the page. He seemed almost at peace, an eyebrow quirked as his eyes scanned over the cream page, but one could tell by the subtle way he was glaring at the page that something was up.

"Hanging in there? Seungmin?" Woojin dragged the youngest back to reality, prompting a nod from the boy, "Good. I'm going to run some pain tests. Tell me if it gets above a seven." Seungmin nodded again, and waited as Woojin attached the machine’s wires before he started speaking in a quiet tone.

"Six, six, Seven, six." He stated, as the machine went through, testing his wound and the surrounding area with gentle pressure and faint beeps. Woojin nodded once at a loud beep, detaching him with quick, efficient movements.

"Good." He noted as he started bandaging Seungmin's side, turning his attention to Changbin, "Have you slept yet Changbin? You've been running around for everyone all day today. Don't lie to me, I saw you physically carry Jisung." Changbin looked up from his book, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm still probably going to get more sleep than Chan hyung will in the next twenty four hours, and you're asking me?" He questioned, glancing back down at the book and flipping the page.

"You know, it's not a competi--" Seungmin started, to get cut off by Changbin.

"I'm not saying it is. I'm merely stating a fact. Chan and Felix came from the same sector on earth. With Felix missing, Chan's going to lose more sleep than he already is. That's how it was in our original team, it's how it'll be now." He looked up at Seungmin, staring at him blankly.

The younger's eyes widened. All of them had heard rumours of what had happened, things like that happened in a company, but they really heard any of them speak about their original team, before Chan had become leader of his own.

“Whatever, I’ll go crash if you want me to that badly.” He finished, closing the book and placing it to the side, “It’ll do me some good anyway. I can take Seungmin with me if you’re done with him, hyung. You probably need to sleep as well, no?” The boy rose in a fluid motion and dusted his jeans off. Woojin nodded, motioning for Seungmin to pull his shirt down.

“Ah, I wanted to go to the mess hall.” Seungmin mumbled, tugging his shirt down over the bandage and standing up with a wince.

“That’s gonna hurt for a few more days, Seungmin. Be careful with that.” Woojin commented, from where he was packing up the wires, “I can go get you something later, anyway. You and Changbin should both sleep. That’s not up for negotiation.”

Changbin nodded, motioning to Seungmin for him to follow as he left the building into the rapidly darkening night sky. The elder visibly relaxed the moment the pair were outside.

“Are you actually tired at all hyung?” Seungmin asked after a moment of walking, as he watched the elder quietly. His hair was pushed off of his face and the glare that he’d become known around base for was shown, but Seungmin knew the moment they were alone, it’d come down.

“No. I left to get hyung off my back. Probably wants to sleep himself if I’m being frank.” Seungmin nodded, watching Changbin a little longer.

“Are we gonna find him?” He asked, voice trembling as he looked down and away. A sense of hollowness was beginning to fill his chest, crushing him and making him want to curl up. More than anything did he just want to give the loud Australian a hug. To find him.

He heard Changbin sigh, before a hand patted his arm in an awkward motion.

“We’ll find him, I promise.” He dropped his arm back to his side soon after, the hand disappearing into his pocket, “It’s not like it’s the first time one of our team has gotten lost on the field anyway.”

“Jisung doesn’t count, hyung.” Changbin chuckled gently at the remark.

“We’ve never actually lost Jisung, luckily. Channie hyung got lost for a couple hours once though.” Seungmin giggled gently, as Changbin led them through the maze of artificial buildings, “Gave all of us a kick. I think, Kuni--The sector 13 guy in Jaebum sunbaemin’s team, BamBam, that’s his name. BamBam tried to take a shot at me because of it.”

Seungmin nodded with a light hum, thinking to himself.

“How’d he get lost?” Changbin snorted, running his fingers along the weapon strapped to his thigh, feeling the reassuring shape of it under them.

“He saw a flower, native to the planet --Chaeryeong’s planet I think. Our squad walked off without him, not even realising we’d lost a man. Jisung found him about four, five hours later just examining plants.” He looked at Seungmin, with an expression just asking if he believed this at all.

“I can imagine Felix doing something similar, actually.” The younger mumbled thoughtfully, after a moment of just contemplating the story

“It’s why I think we should give him a day before we report him missing. But, protocol says you have to do it as soon as it’s noticed.”

“Shitty.” Seungmin mumbled quietly, along with a nod from Changbin.

“Yeah, well… After what happened with Youngjae..” He trailed off. Which was fine, they didn’t talk about what had happened to the man anyway. Seungmin nodded, reaching out to hold onto Changbin for support. He didn’t think this team could handle a repeat of Youngjae.

Jaebum’s team barely had. And they’d been together for years before it’d happened, much longer than they had.

“No one’s going to let Youngjae repeat. Not with Felix, not with anyone.” Seungmin said, quietly and firmly. Changbin sighed, nodding grimly. The younger relaxed, stretching his arms over his head with a quiet sigh. He wondered if he could convince Changbin to let him go to the mess hall before it closed…

“There’s a good chance Felix actually did just see a flower mid battle, actually.” Changbin broke the comfortable silence that had filled the lull in the conversation, drawing Seungmin’s attention from his thoughts and quirking his lips. Yeah, he probably could convince the elder.

Walking up to the building his boss used as the strategy room was always going to intimidate him (the building was imposing after all, designed to defend the office workers in the fleet). And that was before he had to report a missing person. Chan didn’t know if this day could get any worse honestly.

Actually, he didn’t want to test that. That’s what he had thought before Jisung’s accident and the whole mess that came after. He shook his head.

Report Felix missing first, then worry about the rest, He told himself sharply, flashing his identification at the datapad on the door. It slid open with a hiss, giving Chan a brief moment to compose himself before strolling in.

Inside, a young man was calmly talking to one of the few people in the room, a young woman with a lime stripe down the shoulder of her uniform, one of the people he had to speak to. Chan sighed, glancing around for another of the lime stripped workers, before a tap on the shoulder drew his attention.

“It’s odd to see you in here, Bang Chan. You avoid this building like the plague, no?” He turned his head, before dipping into a slight bow upon noting who the speaker was.

“Jaebum hyung.” He greeted after a moment, before looking away. The elder man smiled warmly, casting a worried glance over him once Chan had stopped looking.

“Why are you here?” Jaebum asked softly. Chan tensed, his eyes flicking to the ground.

“That’s…” He hesitated, memories of screams filling his head, and he debated telling the truth. After all, he didn’t know how sensitive the topic he had in mind was for Jaebum. But the elder had been waiting for approximately thirty seconds now, and he was too tired to think up a convincing lie right this moment.

“Felix went missing during the perimeter breach, and I can’t get a line through to him.” He slowly said, watching as Jaebum’s expression transitioned from pure curiosity, to mild shock. Another moment passed before that transitioned into worry and horror.

“You’re joking.” He whispered, face drained of colour. Chan knew he should have lied to the elder.

“I really wish I was. Jeongin was paired with him today but they got separated during the breach, and none of us can contact him.” He murmured quietly, looking anywhere but Jaebum at this point. Those floor patterns were starting to look rather interesting.

“I… I’ll let you report that, then. Maybe send BamBam your way later as well, lords know you’ll need him.” Chan looked back up, into the worrying eyes of the man, and smiled weakly.

“Don’t wake him up for it, if he’s asleep. That’s all I ask.” Jaebum smiled at him, nodding quickly.

“I’ll see what I can do.” He agreed quietly, before slipping out of the way, “I’ll leave you to it then.” He nodded before leaving Chan's field of view. He was grateful for that, looking for the nearest person with a lime stripe. He relaxed as one waved him over.

“Evening Captain. What can I do for you?” The woman asked as he jogged over, her hands resting on the datapad before her. Chan checked his database for Felix quickly.

“I'm here to make a report?” The woman nodded, directing him to another screen. Made sense, you couldn't use personal screens for everything, he noted to himself as he passed over to it. He tapped the screen gently, pausing before sighing to himself.

“God, which name did he even use?” Chan tapped the screen again, buttons leading him from mission report, to missing person report . He hesitated, before tapping in ‘Lee Felix’.

Did he even register with Felix? He thought, groaning as the results turned up negative. And typed in the other’s Korean name with a sigh.

Of course he used Yongbok. Couldn’t use his English name to sign up for this could he? He sighed, tapping Felix’s name as the screen lit up with his face. Chan quickly tapped  in how long Felix had been missing for and rubbed his face. It’d be so much easier to write this on actual paper, he decided.

The man sighed again, as he let himself relax slightly, sending the report in and quickly turned to leave. He bowed in the direction of the woman who’d helped him as he left the building, taking a deep breath and shaking off unease, vaguely wondering how much sleep he’d get that night. Probably not a lot if he were to be frank about it.

“You look stressed.” A voice whispered, before Jeongin was beside him and hugging him. It comforted Chan, as the pair walked back to their camp site.

“I am, second night on a new world and Felix has gone and gotten himself lost and I found out he's used Yongbok to sign up for this goddamn army.” Jeongin hummed in response, clinging tighter to the man with a frown. A moment of quiet passed the two of them before he even tried replying.

“I thought he hated that name.”

“Well obviously not enough to sign up as Lee, fucking, Felix.” The younger nodded, as Chan snapped angrily at the memory.

“Sounds rough. Have you eaten since we got back, like at all?” Chan paused, before shaking his head and looking over at Jeongin.

“No, not yet.” He mumbled, quietly ducking his head. Jeongin giggled, slipping out of the hug and intertwining his fingers with the elders.

“Good, I'm hungry so we're getting food now. I wanna see if they've got chicken in the mess hall tonight.” The elder chuckled, pulling the boy close with a nod.

“We'll see, if not we can bother hyung for help.”

 They were all sitting in a circle when the news came, in the form of a beep from Chan’s screen. It had been a week since Felix had vanish, during which they’d been forced to sit in standby as the searches and fights went on. So what’d Chan do? He’d set up a film for the group. Thankfully, for Jisung’s ears, he’d made sure that Minho and Hyunjin were separated.

Jisung really didn’t know how much more of their bickering he could deal with honestly. And to be real, he’d probably shoot both of them if he could see or access his weapon right then if they so much as started up again. He was sick of it.

So when the beep does echo around the room, the first thing Jisung does is lean over Minho and Woojin’s laps to poke at who he thought was Chan, though it could be Seungmin from the feel of the cloth (A cotton t shirt. He vaguely recalled that only those two were wearing cotton t shirts that day). He was lucky when it really was Chan.

“Channie hyung~” The boy whined, poking the elder a few more times, “Channie  hyung, what was that~” He felt a slight tap on his ankle, from Minho he thought, before he was pulled back into a normal sitting position with another whine.

“Let the man read it first, ‘Sung, god.” Jisung smiled slightly, sitting up straighter and turning his head to a random direction, (Jeongin wasn’t sure he was comfortable with Jisung’s eyes looking at him so early in the morning, not after the last time he’d done that.) and humming. He heard Chan laugh from where he was sitting.

“Alright, alright. I’m checking it.” There was a quiet lull in the room, one that hadn’t been there for a couple days, as Chan read the notification. Jisung pouted, reaching his hands over to his left and playing with the hem of Jeongin’s jacket. Chan took a breath, and Jisung heard his hair rustling as the elder presumably ran his fingers through it, before he spoke.

“There’s good news, ish, and bad news.” Besides him, he felt Jeongin tense, the younger suddenly more alert. “They found Felix’s gear, no Felix. He’s just vanished into thin air apparently.” He heard a couple people murmur, before Changbin coughed.

“It doesn’t seem like Felix to do that.” He noted quietly. Chan nodded.

“You’re right. So, my suspicion is he’s probably been captured somewhere.” Jisung felt Jeongin (Was it though? He didn’t want to turn his mods on to check) tense up beside him, and went to pet his arm in reasurance.

“So, that’s the bad news?” He shouldn’t have to have asked, but he did anyway. Chan hummed, in the quiet assenting way he did.

“Good, ish, news is they’re rotating us back to Earth. Which means that you two,” He felt Jeongin shift again, and Jisung knew he was referring to Hyunjin and Jeongin now, “Can stop by your homes if you want on the way.”

There was a nervous chuckle, and he knew that about then Hyunjin would be running his hands through his hair in a slight panic. Going home would mean his hair would need to be redyed. He was self conscious enough about his eyes, without people seeing how ashen his hair was every time he returned from his birth planet. Jisung flickered on his mods (He couldn’t see where the fuck Hyunjin was), crawling over to Hyunjin and leaning himself against the taller before turning them off.

“You don’t have to Jinnie.” Hyunjin hummed in appreciation. Slim fingers began to brush through the Jisung’s hair in response, and he heard someone crack a joint.

“If, you’re rotating us home, when are you gonna be picking us back up?”That would be Jeongin, and Hyunjin put in his piece with a quiet hum. There was a pause, during which Jisung could only imagine what was happening.

“As soon as you want. The offer is just there in case you want to. Think of it as, a break before we have to relearn a bunch of modules. At least until we find Felix.” The fingers in Jisung’s hair paused, before starting to move again.

“In that case, I’d like to visit my mother and father.” He heard another pleased sound, this one from Chan.

“Lovely, I’ll let the boss know for you. Jeongin? Are you going to visit your’s?”  Jisung sat up, dragging himself closer to Hyunjin to steal body warmth.

“I don’t think I could face my dad after letting Felix get lost.” There was another quiet hum from Chan.

“Fair enough. Still, at least drop in for a bit while we pass.” Jeongin groaned in response.

“Ya! Take me with you Jeonginnie~” Jisung whined, sitting up to pat in the younger’s direction (He pat Changbin’s knee). Jeongin paused, before mumbling out a quiet ‘why’

“Because my parents are probably off planet again.” Chan sighed, as Hyunjin’s arms wrapped around Jisung.

“You know you probably have more tests, right Jisung?” He groaned, twisting to bury his face into Hyunjin’s shirt, the buttons pressing uncomfortably against his face.

“I don’t want to though. They’re just going to be trying to find a way to make it less exhausting for me, and then I’m going to collapse because nothing they do works.” He heard yet another sigh, before the sound of someone moving over reached him and Chan’s arms wrapped around him.

Jisung huffed, leaning into the touch. And just like that, his good mood was gone. Good Dammit Felix where are you?

[cassian-trash]

What are you doing to me? (Cassian/ OC) pt. 1

If there is one thing Zena hates, it’s rain. She feels her hair is too curly and frizzy on a normal day so add rain, heat and 100% humidity? Awful. Not to mention rain causes rust and she doesn’t want to clear rust off all the ships all day. However she did agree that the constant could cover gave The Alliance perfect cover, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to complain.

Zena learned pretty quick that unless you had a higher rank you got all the shitty jobs, even as a mechanic. When she first joined The Alliance she worked day in and day out to prove that she was serious about her job, and she moved up the ranks quick because of it. And of course no one took her seriously cause she was 16 and a female. It was rough but now she’s lead mechanic on Yavin IV. But because all her hard work she often found herself lonely. She was married to her job, she worked hard to get there and she didn’t wanna lose it.

She didn’t realize she was thinking so hard until she heard a loud familiar scream and turned to see Geo, her only real companion, teetering towards her. “You know Geo if you didn’t stop to charge every half dead battery you found you wouldn’t get left behind.” Geo had been a decommissioned gonk droid that she had found while she was rummaging around storage one day and felt bad for. So she took a few days off to fixed him up and reprogram him. But she had accidentally miscalculated something in his reprogramming and now he stops and charges everything. And that would be a problem except for the fact that he now also has separation anxiety. How does a droid have separation anxiety? So while they are walking he’ll stop to charge something that doesn’t really need changing and get left behind. It always takes her forever to get anywhere and she always allots 30 extra minutes to her travel time.

As he was catching up it gave her a chance to actually look at her holopad to see her jobs for today. Because she was the Lead Mechanic she got all the fun jobs, and today she only had one on her list. U-Wing LMTR-20.

She found it odd that she only had the one ship but she had never worked on a U-wing before so she was excited. Usually on the list it says what’s wrong with the ship but this one just said Classified. “Well. How the fuck is that going to work?” Geo made a series of noises next to her to let her know that that was a her problem. “Thanks you’re such a large help. Maybe next time you’re lagging behind I’ll just leave you there.” And that’s how the rest of the walk to Hanger 2 was. Her and Geo arguing back and forth.

When they finally got to Hanger 2, the U-wing was the only ship in the hanger. “Wow Geo, they really don’t want anyone to know what’s wrong with her huh?” As they got closer to the ship to get a better look a huge Imperial droid came down the ramp and Zena froze. Because she was just a mechanic she never learned how to shoot properly. And they never felt the need to give her a blaster. “This is a classified ship and you are unauthorized to be here.”

She was confused, “Yo- you aren’t gonna kill me?” She was shaking and on the verge of throwing up or passing out. Maybe both.

“Excuse me? Why would I have to kill you? The probability of me killing you is only 17%.” Now she was very confused.

“You’re an Imperial droid... Also 17% is still 17% to high for my liking. And I’m the mechanic assigned to repair the ship. I have the orders if you need to see them.” Knowing that he wasn’t gonna kill her calmed her down slightly. Not by much but enough to not throw up.

“Cassian does all the repairs, so you can be dismissed.” This droids personality was quite amusing. A little much, but with Geos attitude it was kind of fun.

“If it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll wait until this Cassian comes back and tells me himself that he doesn’t need the help. I can’t leave until I get verbal and written consistent from the main pilot.” That statement was mostly true. She did need permission, but she could have left and come back. She just wanted to stay to meet the pilot.

“Suit yourself, but Cassian will not be happy.” And then he walked back up the ramp and locked it up tight. She walked closer to the ship and she realized that it was bigger then she thought it was gonna be. It was honestly beautiful.

“Geo have you ever seen anything like this before? Geo?” She turned to look at her friend and found him plugged into some random package transport. “Geo! What have I told you? You can’t just charge whatever you want, I’m gonna need your help with this ship and you not gonna be able to do that if charge everything you see.” He beeped loudly and started walking over to where she was standing.

“Do you make it a habit of fighting with a gonk droid?” Zena whipped around in panic because she never heard this man walk into the hanger let alone get right behind her. And even in her panicked state she couldn’t deny that he was beautiful. Dark hair, dark eyes and tank skin was always her weakness. And she doesn’t even wanna get started on the accent.

“Not all gonks, just Geo. I missed something when I fixed him up and I love him too much to change it. Are you the pilot?” Just because he was cute didn’t mean she could be distracted. If the information about this ship really was classified and the out side looked fine, then something must have been really wrong on the inside.

“Yes are you the mechanic?” His question was innocent but his face said otherwise. She was gonna be the best damn mechanic he’d ever seen.

“Yes sir. Head mechanic on base. Is that going to be a problem?” She couldn’t help but have a little attitude. This man had barely said three words to her and he’s already judging her abilities.

“No, no problem at all. Just not what I expected.” This man was digging his hole deeper and deeper and he didn’t even know it. Now she was really pissed.

“And what did you expect, hmm? A big burly man with grease covered clothes and rag hanging out of his back pocket? Sorry to disappoint. Now do you want help with your ship or not?” She shouldn’t have snapped but she was so over people doubting her abilities. “Look,” she started back up with a sigh because she knew that it wasn’t his fault. “I’m sorry I snapped but I promise I’m damn good at my job. I didn’t get to be in charge by mediocre results. I’ll get her fixed and get you out flying again.”

His face stayed the same as if it were made of stone. He showed no emotion and she had the feeling that first impressions meant a lot to this pilot and she didn’t make a very good one.

He turned and said “Follow me and don’t touch anything. I just need your help for one part and the rest I’ll fix on my own.”

She was startled because she didn’t think he would allow her to work on the ship after she blew up on him, but here she was following a stranger that she only knew the name of and nothing else, onto a ship she really knew nothing about, with a droid who said he had a 17% chance of killing her inside. “Well Geo, it’s been a fun ride. Hope we don’t die.”