#jj come back be here!!! you’re still alive in my head!!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

loveharlow · 9 months ago

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SEVEN - 002

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[6.5k] based on 1x02.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of parental neglect, mild violence, mentions of death/grief, disturbance of a graveyard (?)

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ I've been wanting to do an OBX rewrite for a very long time so here it is, the first chapter from yours truly.

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

“DO YOU REALLY THINK BIG JOHN COULD STILL BE ALIVE?” Kiara’s slightly digitally distorted voice came from the other end of the line. Your phone was pressed between your ear and shoulder as you searched the hangers in your closet, bath towel wrapped snug around your frame and your hair thrown up into a bun, which was presenting more like a mess of damp strands.

“It doesn’t matter what we think, Kie,” You made clear, eyeing a cute shirt you thought you’d lost. “We should just be there for him.”

“Yeah… but what if we’re just feeding into a fantasy? Wouldn’t that make us bad friends if we weren’t honest with him?” You could hear her shuffling around on the other end of the phone as well, dresser drawers slamming occasionally.

“Maybe you’re right.” You sighed, throwing your outfit onto your bed and heading back into the closet to find a bikini to wear underneath. Living in the Outer Banks meant you had a plethora to choose from. “But the way I see it? If it were my dad that went missing, I’d be looking for him too. I’d give anything to even have that small hope that my dad was still alive back, but I know he isn’t… so, I understand.”

“I didn’t think about it like that…” It was sad to hear her so conflicted, as if she’d said the wrong thing.

“Well, I wouldn’t expect you to. And I would never want you to be able to understand that feeling. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.” You reassured, putting the girl on speaker to toss the phone on your bed and slipping the bikini you picked out onto your frame and tying the respective knots. “That’s why if John B thinks his dad is alive and wants to look for him? That’s what we’re gonna do. Because alive or not, John B is like a brother to me and leaving him to do this alone is what would make us bad friends.”

“I guess you’re right…are you still meeting up with the guys today?”

“Just J and John B for right now. Pope said he’d be around later after helping his pops.” You told her, slipping an oversized shirt over top of the bikini, eyeing your closet shelves for a pair of shorts.

“Alright, I might swing by if my parents aren’t up my ass about work.” She complained. “Talk to you later.”

“Later.” Was all you said before the end-call sound rang out in the expanse of your bedroom.

A swift series of knocks met your closed door from the other side, you shouted for them to come in, assuming it was either your mother or your dog Marley’s tail hitting the wood. The 2-year-old golden retriever had a knack for sitting outside your bedroom door on the rare occasion that it was closed and she wasn’t inside.

The knob twisted and in walked your mother, adorned in her signature navy blue pencil skirt and blazer, still a half hour to spare before she had to head off to her office for work. Rebecca Reyes was the Outer Banks’ most notable and renowned lawyer. Even when you still lived on The Cut all those months ago, she was still the island's number one defender. Moving to Figure Eight and getting rich, almost overnight, just gave her the resources she needed. You still questioned where all the money spawned from, chopping it down to your father’s life insurance coming through.

But the bank said that could take a while and you never assumed it was enough to buy a house on Figure Eight. But that’s adult stuff, you thought to yourself.

“You got home late yesterday,” She began bluntly, adjusting the diamond bracelet on her wrist. The smell of her expensive perfume already wafting into your space. “Where were you?”

“Just out with John B and the others.” You said with a shrug, walking out the closet with a pair of sneakers in your hands as you undid the tied laces.

She hummed, eyeing the space around you as if she’d never seen it before. “Did you hear about the boat they’re searching for? Scooter Grubbs’ boat?”

You side eyed her quickly, not quick enough for her to catch however. “Yeah, the whole island is losing their minds over it.”

“You and your friends haven’t come across anything, have you?”

“...I doubt we’d have any luck coming across a Grady-White, mom. Especially after the hurricane. That boat could be oceans away for all we know.”

“Right.” She agreed, but she seemed far away. Off. Why’d she care about Scooter Grubbs’ boat? “And what’s this I hear about some kid with a gun at The Point?” Your heart dropped.

“A gun?” You acted semi-shocked. “I don’t know, I wasn’t there.”

“Hm.” She droned. “Well, if you find anything don’t hesitate to tell me. Or Shoupe, for that matter. He said two out of towners showed up for the boat search yesterday, looked sketchy. So, be careful.”

You hummed in agreement, watching as the woman strutted out of the room without even a small ‘goodbye’.

You and your mother were nowhere near as close as you used to be. Your father’s passing caused a rift between the two of you that seemed irreparable. You just felt like she had become so cold and closed off, nothing like the woman who used to bake every weekend or plan family nights in the backyard. She was more secretive, dismissive. You couldn’t even remember what her smile looked like. She’d changed so much. She used to hate Sheriff Shoupe, said he was a dirty cop who worked under the rich snobs of Figure Eight. Now, it’s like they’re business partners of some sort and she is a rich snob on Figure Eight.

She even changed her last name back after your father died and wouldn’t tell you why. That was what made you feel the most alone. Rebecca Carter was now Rebecca Reyes but you were still Y/N Carter and your father would always be Owen Carter.

It was like she was trying to erase him and everything they’d built together.

You hated to admit that sometimes you wondered what your father would think of the woman she’s become. If she would be as unrecognizable to him as she is to you.

YOU SAT IN THE BACK OF THE VAN, legs bent as your journal rested atop your thighs while you scribbled down your thoughts and recent events — namely the events of yesterday. You had one earbud in, your playlist on shuffle as you half-listened into JJ and John B’s conversation that was happening in the front seat, the bumpy ride making your handwriting a bit chicken scratch-ish.

“I don’t understand why you don’t at least try with Kiara,” JJ started, his heavy boots kicked up on the dashboard. “She clearly likes you. She’s like ‘Oh, John B!’. She’s sketchy about you diving and then she kissed you, bro.” The blonde continued.

“She kissed me on the cheek. It’s not like we were makin’ out.” John B denied, brushing off the girl’s clear affections.

“Low-hanging fruit, bro.” JJ cut him off, the statement making you cringe in silence as you continued to scribble. “I see it in your eyes. You’re like ‘I kind of like that’.” JJ said in a mockingly low and seductive voice.

“Okay, you want to talk about me?”

“Yeah, bro, I wanna talk about you and your lack of game.”

“My lack- my lack of game? Okay, what game do you have, JJ? ‘Cause I haven’t seen any improvement in your case.” JJ’s head whipped between you and the boy in the driver’s seat within milliseconds before he was swatting John B’s arm.

“C’mon, dude...” He warned in a hushed tone. John B just chuckled.

“That’s what I thought.”

Moments of silence passed before their voices were heard again. “I gotta admit, your dad’s compass in Scooter’s boat? Freaky, man…” JJ claimed, twirling the newfound object between his fingers.

“That’s why we’re going to talk to Ms. Lana and figure this whole thing out. She’s his wife, she has to know something.” John B told him.

“And what makes you think she would want to talk to us?” You added, spooking the blonde boy in the passenger seat.

“How long have you been listen-”

“I’m always listening.” You spoke bluntly, a blank expression on your face as you averted your attention from your journal to him. “Anyway,” you dismissed. “A group of teenagers showing up to ask her about her dead husband, the boat that the whole island is looking for, and the compass we found inside of said dead husband’s lost boat? She’ll either think we’re criminals, FBI, or crazy.”

“Well, this is our first resort.” John B replied, eyes looking at you through the rearview. “We gotta try.”

“KNOW WHAT THIS HOUSE LOOKS LIKE?” JJ said, leading the group of us to the front yard of Lana Grubbs’ residence. “Whoever lives here smokes too much weed.” He observed the small, shack-like house — the walls were overgrown with weeds, the yard looked like it’d never been cut, the place was a mess from the outside.

The three of you stopped, more like flinched, in your tracks when you heard glass-shattering from the inside of the house followed by crash after crash. It sounded like the outside of a rage-room or a gun range.

“Maybe we should come back…” JJ advised, taking small steps back. But John B persisted, even as the two of you stood back in fear.

“No, no, shut up, JJ.” John B reprimanded absentmindedly.

“Tell me where it is or I’ll fuck you up!” A deep, brassy voice boomed from the inside. The voice so authoritative it made you shudder, but it didn’t worry you as when a woman’s scream followed. You could only assume it was Ms. Lana. “I’ll sink you in the fucking-” A crash, louder than the rest, cut off the sentence, almost covering the sound of Ms. Lana’s blood-curling screech.

“You’re hurting me!”

John B beckoned JJ and you on with his hands, urging the both of you to move forward. Reluctantly, and after a weary glance at one another, you and JJ followed the brunette boy who was edging closer and closer to the side of the house.

“Where the fuck is it?!”

“I don’t know!”

The three of you quickly dashed and ducked beneath the window seal on the only open window when you heard something hit the wall from the inside. You had just parted your lips to say that, just maybe, this was a bad idea. A terrible one, even, before a phrase yelled by the angry man inside had you shutting up.

“The compass wasn’t in the boat! Where is it, Lana?!”

“I don’t know!”

Your heart dropped as things continued to get thrown and slammed inside the house and you prayed those ‘things’ didn’t happen to be Lana. The paint and wood started to physically chip and fall off the walls outside, landing on top of the three of you crouched against the side of the house, wood particles falling into your eyes.

“Let’s get the hell out of here, man…” Another male voice commanded, followed by two pairs of heavy footsteps against the wooden floors inside. The three of you peeked around the corner to watch the two men disappear from the grounds through the front door, stomping angrily towards their boat.

The same boat that had been shooting at you only 24 hours prior.

“Those were the guys that shot at us.” JJ whisper-yelled.

“Go back.” John B commanded, pushing you all back behind the safety of the wall so they wouldn’t see you all. Once the boat sped off, the three of you slowly tip-toed your way into the house. The sound of Lana’s cries getting louder and more heartbreaking the more you entered the house, shoes crunching on wood and glass. Photo frames and dishes all broken into smaller fractions and littered on the floor, holes in the walls, kitchen cabinets hanging on by a single hinge.

“Ms. Lana?” You called out, voice laced with concern, eyeing the broken windows before they found Ms. Lana’s curled up figure on the bathroom floor right below the sink that was hanging on by a singular pipe. “Oh my God.” You gasped, kneeling right next to the woman and laying a hand on her shoulder that caused her to flinch and shrink in on herself.

She had tears running from her red, swollen eyes, curled up like someone’s child.

“She is tweakin’.”

“Shut up, JJ.” You hissed, shooting a mean glare at the insensitive blonde before turning your attention back to the feeble woman. “Do you need a doctor? We can call a doctor for you.” You assured, examining the multiple cuts adorning the woman’s face and arms.

“We can call the sheriff’s department-” John B was on the verge of suggesting before Lana cut him off frantically.

“No cops, please!”

“Mm, that’s not good. Let’s bounce.” JJ urged, weary of the woman’s persistence to avoid law enforcement.

“You shouldn’t be here...” Lana cried, her eyes focused on John B, speaking as her lip quivered and her voice shook.

The brunette’s face twisted, kneeling next to me to level his gaze with Ms. Lana’s. “Do you know those guys?”

“They were… looking for something.” Her voice wavered.

“...Does it have anything to do with this?” John B asked her, pulling the compass from the back pocket of his board shorts. You and JJ shared a glance, both knowing John B probably shouldn’t have shown it to her. “This was my father’s and Scooter had it. Do you know why?”

Why did John B think showing a woman his father’s compass and saying he copped it from her dead husband was a good idea? You had no clue. Interrogation tactic? Impulsiveness? Stupidity? Lana’s eyes were wide and teary, she looked like she was seeing ghosts.

“Scooter didn’t have it, okay? Don’t tell anyone that you have that. They can’t know that you have that!”

Your lips pulled themselves into a thin line and you were starting to feel less bad for Lana and more suspicious of the distressed woman. Maybe she wasn’t as innocent as she appeared. She didn’t seem to be a threat but she clearly knew things that she shouldn’t. You nudged JB’s arm, whispering in his direction even though the woman could most likely still hear you. “We should go…”

“You’ve gotta get out of here!” Lana cried, fearful gaze eyeing the compass in John’s grasp.

“What do you know about the compass?” John B raised his voice over her frantic one, still questioning Lana as JJ pulled him back and the three of you stood to leave.

“Go! Get out!” Was the last thing you heard as the hysteric woman yelled at your retreating figures.

“SO, YOU SAW THE GUYS THAT SHOT AT US, RIGHT?” Pope asked with his head in his hands, stressed after listening to JJ’s dramatic rendition of events. The three of you had returned to The Chateau and summoned Kiara and Pope not too long after, the events of today on the tip of your tongue. “Did you get a good description of them? Anything we can bring to a police report?”

You shook your head along with JJ and John B as Kiara and Pope sighed at you all's lack of response. There was nothing special about these guys. Sure, they seemed out of place but that’s because nobody on the island knew them. That was one perk about living in Kildare, everyone knows everyone. But these weren’t leather jacket, ski-mask wearing criminals. They didn’t stick out like sore thumbs.

“That’s not very helpful…” Kiara huffed.

“But, but,” JJ started again. “They were burly. Like the men I’d see at my dad’s garage. You guys know he made cargo hides for drug smugglers...” He reminded you all carelessly. “I can tell you with full confidence that these guys? They’re square groupers.”

“Like Narcos square groupers?” Pope questioned with little amusement, his face dropping as he watched JJ smoke against the brick wall.

“Like, Pablo Escobar square grouper?” You added on, just as skeptical from your seat on the patio floor, legs stretched in front of you and crossed over one another while you leaned on your elbows for support. JJ just nodded, blowing out smoke.

“You guys, not everything is a kingpin movie.” Kie reprimanded from her place next to Pope on the patio furniture.

“Okay,” Pope started. “What does a square grouper look like? Hm? Because clearly, you don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“Okay, you weren’t there! I wasn’t taking little mental polaroids the entire time, dude! I was under duress!” JJ whined to which you and John B rolled your eyes.

“Why would they want the compass?” Kiara probed, leaning forward in her seated position, resting her forearms on her thighs.

“That thing’s a piece of shit, you could pawn it off for five bucks if you wanted to… No offense, John B.” Pope claimed honestly, watching as John B flicked the object open and stared at it longingly, paying no mind to the boy’s insult.

“Well, clearly it’s worth something.” You popped in. “Considering these guys are willing to kill for it.”

“...The office.” You all turned to the scruffy brunette. A silent question on everyone’s face. “My dad’s office.” John B continued, shooting up and walking inside The Chateau as you all scurried to follow, shooting one another confused glances. “He always kept the office locked ‘cause he was worried about his competitors stealing his Royal Merchant research. Remember?” He directed at you and JJ, looking back but still walking forward. “We used to laugh at him like he was actually going to find it. But now that he’s…gone, I just left it as he kept it.” He said despondently.

“Yeah. For when he gets back.” Kie backed him up with a light-tipped smile. Keys jangled as John B unlocked the room you hadn’t seen in years. Not since before Big John went missing. Before all of this.

“I’ve slept over here like six-hundred times and I’ve never seen this door opened.” Pope said aloud, eyeing the office like a museum.

This was like being hit by a tidal-wave for you. And you’re sure it was the same for John B. You can remember the countless nights you’d slept over before and after Big John went missing. Before he went missing and you, JB, and JJ would peek inside just to watch him just write and type like his life depended on it. It even brought back memories of when your dad would stay a while after dropping you off to spend the night just to share beers in the backyard with Big John.

The nights after his disappearance weren’t as sweet though. Sleeping in a group hug around John B after his dad went missing. Then your friends all slept in a group hug around you after your dad went missing. Then they slept in another group hug around you when your dad’s body was found, washed up on the shore for the entire island to see. With the plethora of events, The Chateau became a haunted house in your mind.

“Look,” John B said, pulling you out of your stupor. He’d taken a bulletin board down off of the walls that was decorated with paper scraps and old pictures. His index finger pointed to the photo at the very top, a sepia-like tint to it. “This was the original owner of the compass.”

The paper pinned against the photo read ‘Robert Q. Routledge. 1880 - 1920’.

“There’s the lucky compass right there.” Kiara showed you all, pointing to the object clutched in the old man’s hand in the picture. You wouldn’t exactly call the compass lucky, though. And if it was before, it surely isn’t now.

“Actually, um. He was shot after he bought it…” John B informed. “Then the compass was shipped back to Henry.” He continued guiding you all through the timeline, pointing to the next picture. “Henry was killed in a crop-dusting accident when he had the compass.” You happened to look up at the exact same time as Pope, the two of you locking eyes with visible worry. “After he died, the compass was given to Stephen. Stephen had it when he died in Vietnam.” The boy ranted. “After that, Stephen passed the compass down to my dad.”

“This is painting a very bad picture, JB…” You warned, hand on the back of your neck as your face twisted.

“Yeah, he has a death compass.” Pope deadpanned.

“I do not.” John B denied, rolling his eyes and sitting down in the nearest chair with the compass still in hand. “My dad used to talk about this compartment here.” He explained, fiddling with the article between his fingers. “Soldiers used to hide secret notes.” He twisted the back of it off, revealing a word scratched into the top. He sat up with surprise as he spoke. “...This is my dad’s handwriting.”

Pope scoffed. “How can you know that?”

“He’s right.” You assured the doubtful male absentmindedly, squinting your eyes and craning your neck down to see the word written into the metal. “Big John had horrific handwriting and his R’s always had a point to them. I always used to think they looked like big-headed baby chicks, in a way. That’s definitely his handwriting.”

“Weird observation…but she’s right.” John B backed you up, his eyes going back to the compass. “Redfield…” He muttered. “What’s Redfield? Is it a clue?”

“A clue? C’mon that’s-” Pope began until you shot him a nasty glare, silently telling him to be helpful and supportive or shut up. His eyes widened as he gulped. “If it is a clue, m-maybe it’s an anagram?”

“Yes!” John B jumped up from his seat, beckoning you all to back up some. “Anagram. Perfect. You need paper.” He directed at Pope, eyeing scanning the cluttered space. Handing the boy an old, crinkled sheet of notebook paper, Pope got to work with the help of JJ and Kiara as John B and you scoured the desks for anything else of use.

Your ears were quick to pick up on the sound of an engine over the chatter of the brainiac bunch behind you. Eyes perking up to see a black truck pulling onto the yard.”...Guys?” You spoke, but not loud enough. “Guys!” You shushed them, all eyes turning to you. “Somebody’s here.”

The five of you crowded around the window, peeking through the blinds and peering through the dusted glass. Two males got out of the car and you recognized them immediately. “Those are the guys from The Marsh and Lana’s house.”

John B was quick to turn towards JJ. “Where’s the gun?”

“I don’t know-”

“Now you don’t have the gun? The one time we need the gun?” Kiara panicked.

“It was in my backpack and then I-...it’s on the porch.” JJ quickly realized, sighing before biting his lip out of frustration.

“Go. Go get it.” John B urged quietly but you were quick to step up, tugging the short sleeve of JJ’s shirt before he could open the door.

“No, no, we are not sending JJ out there to be pummeled by square troopers, square groupers, whatever they are-”

“We need the gun-” The bandana-wearing boy hissed.

“I don’t care. We stay put. We stay together.” You insisted. But JJ gently swiped your hand down and backed out of your reach, one hand up in surrender. “What’re you doing-”

“It’ll be quick, I swear. I’m like a ninja-”

“JJ.” You said simply, disappointed as you curled your fist in annoyance.

“I’ll be on my Batman shit.” He whispered before leaving the room quietly with the door cracked behind him, allowing you all to see him leave.

“John Routledge!” A country man’s voice boomed, causing JJ to turn around and slide his way back into the room quietly before he’d even made it two steps outside of the office. “C’mon out now!” JJ closed and locked the door as you all heard the pairs of footsteps enter The Chateau. The men began smashing and throwing things around just as they did Ms. Lana’s house. Was this their MO or something?

‘Window’ Kie mouthed, pointing to the window that led straight into the yard, towards the chicken coop and the surf shack. JJ and Pope rushed over to it as John B held down the door, which was just him standing against it with his hands above his head. JJ and Pope tried to lift the frame but it wouldn’t budge. Your face twisted in confusion, walking over to where the two boys were struggling and attempting to pull up the window seal yourself with no better luck.

“It’s painted shut.” You couldn’t help but smack your teeth, cursing under your breath as your eyes quickly scanned the room for something sharp as you patted the back of your shorts, feeling an object in your pocket. Digging your hand in to reveal a pen, the one you’d been using to journal that morning. You whispered for the guys to move before ejecting the pen and sliding it quickly along the seal to break it as quickly as possible.

Suddenly, one of the square groupers began kicking the door down, John B running across the room.

“Hurry!” Kiara whispered.

“I’m going as fast as I can!” You hissed. When the seal was completely broken, you wasted no time in opening the window, being the first to jump down into the backyard and making a b-line for the coop. The five of you piled inside one by one, the space surprisingly big enough for five fully grown teenagers as you crouched in tense silence. Just then, you heard a shot ring out from the inside of the house, assuming the man shot the door down.

Everyone could hear everyone breathing, shaky breaths all throughout the small enclosure. And the roosters. One rooster would not stop crowing. You were hoping, praying the damn thing would stop making noise. It wasn’t long before the guys were seen leaving the house, carrying at least two crates of books and research each.

“Pope, shut him up.” JJ demanded, referring to the rooster next to Pope that was making the most noise.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Pet it or something, I don’t know.” Kie cried. Suddenly , JJ got up and grabbed the rooster by its neck, pressing it into the ground until its neck audibly snapped and its clucking ceased. You couldn’t help but cringe and look away, the sight somehow prompting you to gag. JJ’s eyes met yours as if he was making sure you were okay, you giving him a sickly nod in return. One that wasn’t as reassuring as you hoped. Kie was crying silently and you didn’t miss the way John B grabbed her hand in comfort.

“WHAT BETTER PLACE TO HIDE A MESSAGE THAN A FAMILY HEIRLOOM?” John B tried to muse from the driver’s seat of The Twinkie.

“Maybe somewhere more easily accessible.” You said bluntly, laying back on the floor of the van, your foot on Pope and head in JJ’s lap, Kiara in the passenger seat. “Like a hidden jewelry box compartment or a locked drawer. Not inside of a death compass on a dead man’s sunken boat.”

John B simply ignored you. “He had to know it was gonna get back to me, right?” He spoke hopefully, referring to his father.

“It’s possible.” Kie agreed from the passenger seat next to him, not wholeheartedly however.

“It could also be possible that you’re concocting wild theories to help deal with your sad feels- Ow!” Pope was interrupted when you kicked his knee, shooting him a glance that said ‘what the hell'.

“You know how I process my sad feels,” JJ started, your eyes drifting to him as your head craned slightly back from its place atop his thighs. “Dank nugs and the stickiest of ickies.”

“Preach.” You agreed, dapping up the blonde boy.

“Look, I’m not concocting, okay?” John B nearly shouted in frustration. “My dad’s trying to give me a message.”

“...If it helps you believe, John B.” Kiara tried softly.

“I don’t need a therapy session. I’m not trippin’ out.” He dismissed the four of you. “My dad is missing, okay? Missing. You guys don’t know what it’s like to have the person closest to you vanish and have no idea what happened.”

Suddenly, the two pairs of eyes in the back of the van turned to you. You couldn’t help but curl in on yourself slightly. “Stop it.” You demanded, averting your eyes to the window, watching the palm trees pass by. You hated when they acted like you had to be shielded from things because of what happened to your dad.

“It’s been almost a year.” Kiara nudged JB, letting it go. “But fine. What do you think the message is?”

“Redfield.” The brunette reiterated hopefully. “Redfield Lighthouse. My dad’s favorite place.”

THE LIGHTHOUSE LOOKED A BIT DIFFERENT THAN YOU REMEMBERED. It looked older, more rickety. You could swear it was leaning now. The five of you stood staring up at it before John B turned around to face JJ.

“You’re gonna post up out here and look for bogey’s. Alright?”

“Wait, why me?” JJ asked pitifully.

“...JJ, there are independent variables and dependent variables. You’re an independent variable-” Pope tried to reason.

“Shut up.” The blonde-haired boy dismissed with a snarl.

“We don’t know what you’re gonna do!”

“Just shut up!”

“Listen to me,” John B broke the boys up, pointing an assertive finger. “Pope, you stand lookout with JJ. Y/N, you make sure they don’t rip each other’s heads off. If we get split up, we meet back at JJ’s house.” You watched as Kiara and John B hopped over the fence and onto the lighthouse property. You slid your back against a nearby tree, one earbud placed in your ear as you drummed your fingers against your thigh, playing with blades of grass between your fingers.

“I’m gonna work on my merit scholarship essay. I’m trying to keep felonies to a minimum.”

“All right, would you just shut up already?” JJ sassed, you rolling your eyes and scoffing at them both. A few beats passed before JJ spoke again. “They’re probably boning in there right now.”

“Jesus, JJ…” You breathed out.

“What? You don’t honestly believe they don’t have a thing for each other, do you?” He defended.

“Maybe you’re just jealous.” Pope offered from his place in the grass.

“Jealous? Of what?”

“Because John B’s trying to move in on Kie and you have a thing for her.”

“Listen, dude,” JJ started with his hands out in front of him. “Kie’s hot and all but she’s a kook. I don’t see her like that.”

“That’s what they all say.” You sang playfully, causing JJ to whip around to face you.

“Oh, really? And what about little miss pretty & popular?”

You visibly cringed. “Ew, don’t ever refer to me like that again.”

“You’re telling me you aren’t crushin’ on someone? No rich, polo-wearing kid swept you off your feet during you and Kie’s kook year?” He egged on.

“Knock it off, JJ.” Pope defended when he saw how your face fell at the mention of it. You hated when they brought it up. Technically Kie’s kook year was longer than yours, considering you’d joined her kook friend group when you moved to Figure Eight. That was an era of your life you’d love nothing more than to forget.

“Fine, fine,” He backed off, his hands thrown up in mock surrender as he backed some steps away. Just then, the three of your heads whipped to the dirt road behind you at the sound of police sirens. You snatched the earbud out of your ear and pocketed it, standing up from your place against the tree. They were clearly headed for the lighthouse.

“What do we do? Do we wait?” Pope asked frantically.

“We can’t, man, c’mon.” JJ urged, sprinting towards the van with you and Pope following close behind. He jumped into the driver’s seat, pulling off before you and Pope had even closed the side door completely. You could only have faith that your other two friends made it out okay.

“NEXT TIME YOU END UP AT THE SHERIFF’S OFFICE, YOU CALL ME FIRST. DO YOU UNDERSTAND, JOHN BOOKER?” Your mother reprimanded the poor boy, her heels clacking against the pavement outside of the department. You didn’t expect a call from John B after you all had run from the lighthouse, coming from the Kildare County Sheriff’s Station from John B saying he and Kiara had been “arrested”.

“Yes, ma’am.” He affirmed. By the time you’d arrived at the station, Kiara had apparently already left with her dad who’d refused to bail John B out as well, leaving the boy with only one other option. The three of you stopped in front of your mother’s car as she now turned to face the two of you.

“Shoupe already has enough to deal with. The sheriff’s office doesn’t need a couple of rowdy teenagers on their radar. I don’t know what you kids were doing up at the lighthouse that led to this, but drop it. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” You both blurted out simultaneously, your mother having a newfound knack for intimidating people. She didn’t hesitate to jump in her car and start the engine, giving one last look as a goodbye.

YOU WERE AT THE DOCKS WAITING ON JOHN B, SITTING ON THE WOOD AND SWINGING YOUR FEET. You’d gone with him when he realized it was time for him to work, an employee saying Ward was looking for him as soon as the pair of you had arrived. He was up on The Druther’s, Ward’s boat, talking to the man himself. You couldn’t tell what the conversation was from your seat on the docks, so you waited. It was only minutes before the boy himself came stomping down the marina, prompting you to get up and dust yourself off.

“Is everything okay-”

“I just got fired.” He blurted, not even making eye contact with you and he brushed past you. You stuttered at his passive nature, scurrying to follow behind him.

“What do you mean you just got fired?”

“Ward found out about the gear.” He scoffed, and even with his back to you as he breezed through the working people to leave the dock, you could almost feel his frustration. “I can’t believe her.” He muttered.

“Who? Who are you talking about, John B?” You soon got your answer as Sarah Cameron walked by, you and the girl making brief eye contact with a mutual snarl on both of your lips before her attention turned to John B, who she somehow saw after you.

“Hey, John B.” She greeted, her hands full of paper bags that were filled to the brim with groceries, a large, brimmed hat on the top of her head. You weren’t surprised when he continued walking as you followed without a word to the girl, but she persisted. “That’s it?” Sarah scoffed. “Not a ‘hey, how you doin’’? Not a ‘kiss my ass’?”

You didn’t expect John B to turn around and swiftly walk over to the girl, getting all in her face. With the noise of the busy marina in the back, their close conversation became hushed but it was still audible enough.

“Your secret’s safe with me? Really?” Your friend pressed the girl. “I just got fired because of you. And I know you can’t imagine that but some people need jobs, so they can eat.” Nothing shocked you more than when he smacked the bag of goods from her arms, leaving Sarah stunned as fruits rolled in front of her sandals. Her jaw slack and eyes wide.

“What the fuck?” She hollered.

“You are exactly who I thought you were, Sarah Cameron.” He reprimanded, turning and leaving behind a stunned kook girl. Although, you would’ve paid money to see that again, it was such an odd interaction.

You knew he worked on Ward’s boat so he was bound to come across her but you weren’t aware they really talked. If you didn’t know either of them, you’d assume they were a high school couple arguing out in public.

The brunette brushed past you once again, taking his time and seemingly building up the courage to break into a run.

“Wh- John B!” You called from your place in the parking lot. “John B, where are you going?!” But it was no use as he simply left you behind and continued sprinting away. You figured you’d just give him some space to himself.

YOU’D RECONNECTED WITH POPE AND JJ SOON AFTER BEING LEFT IN THE DUST BY JOHN B, meeting them on the docks in The Cut. The three of you had been there for some hours, you helping Pope fix a generator while JJ smoked unhelpfully to the side when John B pulled up in The Twinkie.

He honked, beckoning the three of you into the van with a finger and none of you questioned what was happening or where you were going as you hopped into the rickety vehicle. You were mildly pissed about being left at The Marina but you got in nonetheless.

THE SUN HAD SET AND YOU ALL STILL HADN’T ARRIVED YET. John B briefly explained the destination and plan but you half-listened. You’d been driving for a long time, picking up Kiara along the way, with no clue as to where the five of you were going.

“Do you mind if I sit this one out?” JJ asked tiredly. “It’s been a long, weird day…”

“Look, I know I was wrong about the lighthouse.” John B acknowledged. “And wrong about everything else. But I was right about one thing — my dad is trying to tell me something.”

Just then you pulled up to a graveyard, the five of you piling out of the van with a flashlight each in your hand. “This place is scary.” Kie voiced. “John B, what are we doing?”

“You know how you’re trying to remember a song but you can’t remember who sings it?” He started. “Redfield. This whole time, I thought it was a place.” He explained as you all followed him further into the mess of graves and tombstones. “But it’s not.” He held the lantern in his hand up once you all stopped in front of a tomb, one of the tallest ones in the yard, revealing “REDFIELD” engraved in the stone. “It’s a person. My great-great-grandmother, Olivia Redfield. That was her maiden name.” He spoke longingly, looking up at the stone letters. “Help me with the door. C’mon.”

Pope stepped forward as the remaining three of you flashed your lights in the pair’s direction as they attempted and failed to push the tomb door open.

“Are you pushing?” Pope said to the brunette.

“Yes, I’m pushing.” John B strained out. Then JJ was jumping into help but even with his addition, the boys had no luck opening the door. They all jumped back when a snake hissed, peeking its head out from a crack in the stone structure.

“Woah! That’s a moccasin, alright” JJ started, jumping back almost cartoonistically. “Ye-old cottonmouth. Death in tall grass. Roof! Roof!” JJ started barking at the snake. Sometimes, you questioned his sanity.

“JJ! Shut up!” You warned the erratic blonde.

“You’re gonna wake the dead.” Pope slapped him on the shoulder, grimacing.

“Dude, they’re afraid of dogs. Everybody knows that.” He breathed out, straightening himself back out.

“Look, John,” Pope sighed, turning his attention back to John B. “We’re not gonna get in there, it’s not budging. We should probably just go.”

You were examining the tomb carefully, flashlight trailing the structure up and down before you noticed something. “I think I can get through.”

“...What?” John B spoke.

“You think you’re gonna fit through that hole?” Pope asked, worried.

“I’ll do it.” You reassured them, ignoring their concerns. “Just help me up.” They all shuffled to help you up — Kiara and John B holding the vines away and to the sides while JJ and Pope intertwined their hands for you to use as a human step-stool.

“What am I looking for?” You inquired, eyes fleeting to John B.

“You’ll know when you see it.” Your hands slapped your thighs. Helpful, you thought, but you didn’t ask anymore questions. You put your flashlight in between your teeth, like a dog carrying a bone before laying a hand on each of the boys shoulders, you put your foot over their connected hands and boosted yourself up.

It was a tight squeeze but you made your way through, landing on your feet and removing the flashlight from your teeth. It took your eyes a minute to adjust, staring at the walls of the spooky space.

“You alive in there?” JJ called.

“Alive and kickin’.” You called back, aiming the flashlight everywhere, scanning over everything. But the space was much bigger than you thought and your one flashlight didn’t seem to be enough. “I need more light, please.”

“Gotcha’.” John B said, pushing his arm holding the lantern through the crack of the wall, illuminating the space by tenfold. And that light was just what you needed.

“Oh my God…” You breathed out. John B may not have led you all on a goose-chase after all.

next chapter >

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

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©loveharlow.

#Spotify #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj mayback imagine #jj mayback x reader #obx jj #SVN #obx fanfiction #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fluff #obx jj x reader #jj maybank smut #jj maybank imagine #obx jj maybank #obx netflix #obx x reader

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gh0stsp1d3r · 7 months ago

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ℳ𝒶𝓎𝒷𝒶𝓃𝓀𝓈 𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇- PT.2 C.4-forget her

Taglist: @cassie0sstuff @rafesgiirl @fals3-g0d @tiaamberxx @callsignwidow

Previous part, Series masterlist

The silence was awkward, the tension between the two of you obvious. Kiara couldn’t wait to get off this damn truck.

Once the truck stopped at its destination, the three of you all hopped out. You looked around.

“Come on. My boats down here.” He said, you and Kiara followed him down to the dock.

“Make sure your shoes are off.” He said when he jumped in.

You and Kiara were still on the dock, hesitant.

“Okay, we should have enough juice to get us to Saint Lucia, no problem.”

“Hey, get in the boat.” He grunted out to Kiara and you, looking at you now.

“You’re not gonna pull anything if we get in?” You asked him, your arms crossed.

“No, I’m not gonna pull anything, okay? I’m trying to do you guys a solid here. You really wanna be back there with Singh or do you wanna be somewhere safe?”

Neither of you answered.

“Now can one of you please help me with the bowline?” He asked her.

You followed her into the boat, and you went over to the bowline. You began to undo the knot when Kiara tapped your shoulder.

“Let me do it.” Kiara whispered, glancing at Rafe and back to you.

“What? Okay…” you shrugged, ignoring it for now. You stood behind her as she went over.

“I can’t get it!” She yelled.

“What?” He asked, looking at her now.

“I need some help!”

“Goddamn, do I have to do everything?” He hopped down, over to the cleat

When he undid it, you didn’t see Kiara behind you now, she ran into you, pushing you off instead of Rafe.

Rafe looked at her, confused. Before he even had a chance, she was pushing him off as well.

You and Rafe fell down into the water, gasping for air. She shouted your name.

“Go, Kie! Go!” You motioned, the water splashing as your hands hit it.

“I’m sorry, y/n!”

“Kie! Hey! Kie, where are you going?” Rafe shouted.

“I’ve gotta help my friends!” She shouted back, driving the boat away from the two of you as Rafe shouted at her.

After his tantrum, you swam to the dock, your once white shirt now see through.

“Oh. My. God.” You grumbled, looking down at yourself, putting your arms over your chest.

Could this day seriously get any worse?

Rafe swam soon after, his fist clenched and his head pounding.

He looked you up and down, before walking away. You followed behind.

—————-

“Wait, where’s my sister?” Jj asked Kiara when he pulled away.

She grimaced, her face falling.

“Kie. Where is she?” His smile was gone now, his confusion and anxiety replacing it.

“I… we ran into Rafe. I didn’t trust him, but she was in my way… she’s alive. But…” Kiara admitted, looking shamefully at the ground.

“You mean she’s with that fucking psychopath right now?”

“I wanted to go back to her, Jj, I would have but… she told me to go.”

“We’re not leaving this island until we find her.”

—————

“This is exactly why I always fuckin’ say never trust them.” He mumbled mostly to himself.

“She doesn’t trust you, obviously.” You told him. Your arms were crossed over your body, trying to shield it.

“After I helped you both escape?”

“I can barely trust you.”

“Seriously? Are you still mad about-“

“Don’t even, Rafe.” You warned.

“I apologized, I’m sorry, I don’t know what else you want me to do!” He exclaimed.

“You’re an asshole.”

“I’m an asshole? I was gonna save your ass until she pushed us off-“

“I can’t believe I’m stuck with you again.” You told him, a small frown on your face as you walked off the dock.

He rolled his eyes at your complaining, turning to you suddenly and putting his hands on your shoulders, his eyes boring into yours. “I’m sorry. Okay? Now could you please, just bear with me for a second?”

“No.”

“I’m being serious, y/n. I’m your only hope at getting back to Kildare.” He pointed to himself, taking one hand off of you.

“I have a plan but you have to listen to me.” He continued. You sighed.

“Fine. But as soon as we get back-“

“You’ll never have to talk to me again.” He said. But the thought of it had him reeling. He would make you fall in love with him again, no matter what it would cost.

He took his hands off your shoulders. Looking behind you, he noticed a man staring at your wet shirt, your bra visible under it.

“You got a staring problem?” Rafe barked at him quickly, you turning around to the man now as well. The man quickly turned around, and Rafe shook his head.

“C’mon.” He told you. He ended up buying, or rather stealing a jacket for you, putting it over the cold, wet shirt you had on.

You both walked in silence through the island, Rafes hands shoved into his pockets.

He looked at a man, stopping in his tracks. You furrowed your eyebrows and Rafe just gave you that ‘trust me’ look.

“Hey, man.”

“Huh?”

“Sorry. Sorry to bother you. Um.. I have the perfect gift for your wife. It’s like a great price too.”

“Yeah?”

“So this, all through here is where all the tourists shop, but the real deal is like right back here.” He pointed to an alleyway, you quickly catching onto his idea.

“It’s a great local spot.” You chimed into the conversation, a small sweet smile on your face as you looked at the man.

“I don’t know..” he hesitated.

“Just trying to help you out.” Just real quick, you wanna..?”

“Okay.” He agreed, you followed him.

“It’s got like some of the best custom jewelry on the island. It’s incredible.” Rafe told the man, leading him to the alley.

“Uh, just right back here.” You followed them.

You held the man back, putting him in a chokehold against the wall.

“Do we have to?” You asked Rafe, looking at the petrified man and back at Rafe.

“It’s not that hard.” Rafe groaned, punching the man in the face, knocking him out. He cracked his knuckles, watching you set the man gently onto the ground.

Rafe grabbed his hat, and you dug into his pockets, grabbing his wallet.

“So sorry, so sorry.” You mumbled as if he could hear, walking away from the body.

“Where are we going now?” You asked Rafe.

He nodded to a boat in the distance.

“All right, all aboard to Guadeloupe.”

“How you doing, boss?” Rafe asked, you following behind.

“Good. How are you?”

“Living the dream. You got some sun since you took this photo, man.”

You handed the man your fake id, it checked out.

“Enjoy Guadeloupe.” He told the both of you. You gave the man a smile and walked next to Rafe.

“What the hell are we gonna do in Guadeloupe?”

——

“Fuck no, Rafe! He- he-“ you pointed to the man sitting outside.

“I know, I know what happened, but you gotta listen. This is the only place we have to go right now, and- and I can’t have either of you freaking out on each other- ‘aight?”

“I’m out of here, Rafe. I’m done with this shit.” You told him, turning around but he grabbed your wrist.

“You have nowhere to go. Please. It will only be for a little, then I can find you a way back to the outer banks.”

You groaned, looking at the man outside and back at Rafe.

“Fine. But is there like a phone I can borrow, because-“

“I’ll get you a phone. Just please, stay here for a little.”

Rafe went outside to Ward, Ward nodded over to you, standing inside, running a hand over your face.

“What’s she doing here?”

“Long story. I just- she has no where to go and-“

“Do you trust her?” Ward asked him suddenly.

Rafe furrowed his eyebrows.

“Do you trust her?”

“I- I don’t know- I-“

“Do you or do you not, Rafe?”

“I.. I do. She’s not gonna do anything, she has nowhere else to stay and it’s too dangerous here for her to. Please. Just let her stay.”

Ward sighed. “She can stay, but the second I see her try anything-“

“She won’t.”

They talked for a while, Rafe sitting down next to him.

“Theres something I need you to do for me right now, okay?”

“Name it.”

“I need you to go back to the Outer Banks. Kildare.”

“Why?” Rafe asked, swallowing a lump in his throat.

“There’s nothing there for us, not anymore. I need you to wrap everything up for me, all right? I need you to see the businesses, sell the rental properties.” He paused. “I need you to sell Tannyhill.”

Rafe spluttered, looking at Ward in disbelief. “Wait, we’re selling Tannyhill? Is that what you said?”

Ward looked to him, nodding. “Yeah.”

“W-why? What are you talking about?”

“It’s not our home anymore. This is. This is our home now.” He leaned back in the chair. “And it’s a clean slate. It’s a new beginning, a new path. And I need to take a bigger role, all right? You can forget about her.” He nodded to you again. “Can I count on you for that?”

Rafe hung his head down, looking at you from the window. You stared back at him.

He can do everything else, he’s just not too sure he can just forget you though.

“Of course, yes. Of course, dad.” He said, looking back at his father.

“Yeah, all right, good. Listen, I got some papers inside. I’m gonna bring them. We’re gonna go over them. Tell you what to do, and while you’re gone, I am going to be taking that cross and looking into it.” He stood up, Rafe standing as well now.

“We have that cross because of you. You got it for us, and you saved it. I just need you to be careful. You get in there, handle this business, drop her off, and you get back here safely. All right? You’re a Cameron. That still means something.”

When his dad went into the house, he gave you a small nod and smile. You just kept looking at Rafe through the window, and he stared right back.

#maybanks sister #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron fluff #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe x you #rafe x reader #rafe x y/n #obx series #rafe obx #SoundCloud

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criminally-chill · 25 days ago

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What happens in vegas doesn’t stay in vegas.

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x reader

Category: Fluff

Trigger: Alcohol

—————————

Waking up to a pounding headache, dry mouth, and bleary eyes was hardly unusual after a night out with the team. But as you stirred, your senses came alive to an unexpected warmth beside you. Blinking in confusion, you turned to see Emily Prentiss, still asleep, her dark hair spread across the pillow, face tucked against your shoulder. You could feel her breath tickling your neck, and your mind raced to make sense of the situation.

For a moment, everything felt blissfully peaceful until your brain kicked in. Wait a minute. Why is Emily cuddling with me? And what’s that glint on my finger? Instinctively, you lifted your hand, squinting at the gold band resting there.

“Oh no,” you murmured, heart dropping as you turned to Emily, who stirred at your voice, blinking up at you with sleepy confusion.

She took a moment to process her surroundings, then her gaze flickered down to her own ring finger, widening as she registered the matching wedding band. “What the hell?” she muttered, voice thick with sleep.

“Uh… morning?” you said, trying to sound casual, but the panic in your voice betrayed you.

“Tell me this is just some weird Vegas souvenir and not…” she trailed off, her tone mixing disbelief with a hint of laughter.

“Yeah, I wish I could say that,” you mumbled, biting back a nervous laugh. “But I think we might’ve made some questionable life choices last night.”

Emily rubbed her temples, attempting to gather her thoughts. “So you’re telling me we’re… married? Is that the conclusion we’re reaching here?”

“Pretty sure,” you replied, feeling embarrassment creeping in. “Though I can’t recall much after the fifth round of tequila.”

She leaned back against the headboard, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Okay, but just to be clear, was I a willing participant in this marriage, or did I get dragged into it against my will?”

You chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “I mean, I can’t remember any kidnapping happening. But the last thing I recall was Morgan egging us on to take more shots and maybe something about karaoke.”

“Great,” Emily said, a smirk breaking through her surprise. “So we got drunk, sang poorly, and decided to get hitched. Classic.”

“Exactly. The perfect recipe for disaster,” you added, shaking your head in disbelief. “I’m sure this is going to make for a fun conversation with the team.”

“Fun? More like a complete train wreck,” she replied, her grin widening. “Garcia is going to lose her mind when she finds out.”

You exchanged incredulous looks, the absurdity of the situation settling in. “We should probably get ready for breakfast,” you suggested, still trying to process the reality of your actions.

“Ugh, do we have to?” she groaned, collapsing back against the pillows. “I feel like I was hit by a truck.”

“Unfortunately, we can’t,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “If we skip, they’ll come looking for us. I’d rather face them now than let them find out later.”

“True,” Emily said reluctantly, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and running a hand through her hair. “Let’s just get this over with. But I swear, if any of them make a joke about us being ‘Mr. and Mrs.,’ I might just cry.”

With a collective sigh, you both prepared for the day ahead, knowing that confronting your teammates would be just as chaotic as the night before.

Half an hour later, you made your way to the hotel restaurant, both of you wearing baseball caps and sunglasses to hide your faces. As you entered, you spotted Morgan, JJ, Reid, and Garcia already seated, looking just as rough around the edges as you felt.

“Good morning, sleepyheads!” Garcia chirped, her bright smile almost blinding. “Did you enjoy your night in Sin City?”

Emily shot you a glance, both of you trading knowing smirks. “You could say that,” you replied, trying to keep your tone casual.

Morgan raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You two look like you’ve seen better days. I bet you had a wild night, huh?”

“More like a wild disaster,” Emily said, her tone playful but edged with caution. “What’s the last thing you all remember?”

“Not much after the fifth round of tequila,” JJ admitted, her voice muffled as she buried her face in her hands. “I remember karaoke, though. Garcia, you were amazing.”

Garcia beamed, her pride shining through. “Of course I was! I nailed ‘I Will Survive.’ You all should’ve been my backup dancers!”

“Backup dancers?” Morgan laughed. “You were more like a one-woman show! I think you might have scared the bouncers.”

Reid, ever the curious one, leaned forward. “I recall something about pool games and a bouncer being involved. Did we end up having an actual competition?”

Morgan nodded. “Yeah, and you lost, buddy. The bouncer was way too serious for our antics.”

“Great,” you said, trying to remember how you’d contributed to the chaos. “So we were just a bunch of drunken fools?”

“Pretty much,” JJ replied, finally lifting her head. “But it sounds like we were all on the same page, right?”

“Right,” Emily said, her gaze flicking to you with a glimmer of mischief. “We just have to figure out how to explain this whole situation without embarrassing ourselves further.”

“Hey, whatever happened in Vegas stays in Vegas!” Garcia chimed in, grinning. “Unless it involves marriage. That’s a different story!”

You and Emily exchanged looks, hearts racing at the thought of how Garcia would react if she found out the truth. “I just hope they don’t dig too deep,” you said quietly, leaning in.

But before you could finish, Garcia pulled out her phone, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, you guys are going to love this! I may have recorded some of last night.”

“Wait, what?” you said, your heart sinking. “What do you mean?”

“Only the best parts!” Garcia said, practically vibrating with excitement. “Let’s see what we’ve got here!”

“No, no, no, please don’t!” you and Emily said in unison, but it was too late. Garcia was already pressing play, and the screen lit up.

The video showed a tipsy version of you and Emily stumbling into a wedding chapel, laughter filling the air. You could hear the cheers and jeers of the team in the background, egging you both on as you approached the officiant.

“Are you serious?” JJ gasped, her eyes wide. “You guys actually did it!”

The video continued, showing the officiant’s voice almost drowned out by the laughter of your teammates. You watched in horror as Emily playfully swayed, holding onto you for balance. Then you both exchanged vows, the most ridiculous promises you could think of, like sharing snacks and always picking the next action movie.

“Is this for real?” Morgan said, his mouth agape. “You guys actually went through with it?”

You could barely meet Emily’s gaze, the absurdity of the situation settling in as you both burst into laughter. “So much for a wild Vegas night staying just in Vegas,” you said, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Wow, this is priceless!” Reid said, chuckling. “I can’t believe you two managed to get married while drunk!”

“I know!” Emily added, still giggling. “I never thought I’d find myself in a wedding chapel while tipsy. That’s definitely a first.

Morgan couldn’t stop laughing, slapping the table with his hand. “What happens next? Are we going to get wedding invitations in the mail, or what?”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “I can’t even think about that right now.”

Garcia, still gleefully watching the video, turned to you both, eyes wide with excitement. “You know, this could be a romantic story if you decide to make it work!”

“Romantic? It’s a total disaster!” you protested, though you couldn’t help but feel a rush of warmth at the thought of being with Emily in a more serious way.

“Yeah, but look at it this way,” JJ chimed in. “You guys got married in Vegas! That’s got to count for something, right?”

Emily rolled her eyes but was smiling. “I mean, it does make for a hell of a story.”

“Can you imagine telling Hotch?” Reid said, his eyes wide with genuine excitement. “He’ll either think it’s a great idea or want to strangle you both.”

You and Emily laughed, picturing Hotch’s reaction. “You’re probably right,” you admitted, trying to picture the stern unit chief’s face as you explained the circumstances of your marriage.

The laughter continued as everyone joked about what your lives would look like as a married couple, the ridiculousness of the situation slowly easing the tension that had initially gripped you both. You could see how the lighthearted banter was bonding the team, the laughter helping to normalize the crazy turn of events.

As breakfast wrapped up, you could feel a sense of camaraderie building. “Well, I guess we should take this head-on,” Emily said, leaning back in her chair, her expression a mix of mischief and determination.

“Agreed,” you replied, feeling a surge of confidence. “Let’s just own it.”

As the team filed out of the restaurant, you and Emily lingered, your

#criminal minds #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x reader #Emily Prentiss Drabble #emily prentiss imagine #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss fic

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obxone · 1 year ago

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All In My Head (Part Three)

Edited-ish. ~2k words. (Post Season 3. If you haven't watched, don't read it unless you like spoilers!)

(Part One) (Part Two)

As you knock on the door of Tanneyhill, you close your eyes and replay the conversation that brought you here in the first place. You should have fought harder against the pogues and their brilliant idea to send you to face Rafe Cameron.

“I’m telling him?!” Your eyes bulge out of your head. Anxiety punches through you, and you look at Sarah in alarm. “Why me?! He is your brother!"

“Because he will listen to you! Please do this,” she pleads. Her hands are gripping your upper arms tightly. “Rafe is not going to be okay when he finds out, and it should come from someone he cares about as much as he does Ward.”

Your mouth is dry as you try to process what she is saying. “He knows all of you. And again, you are his sister. He cares about you,” you offer weakly, knowing you are the only option out of the seven of you. “Fuck!” You groan, head falling back as you stare at the ceiling of the rental that Ward had given her before he died. “Fine! But if I’m not back in 48 hours, then you better hope I’m still alive.”

“48 hours?!” Cleo cocks her head.

You rub your forehead. “Yeah… it’s Rafe. I’m not leaving Tanneyhill for at least a day once I tell him. He'll want every detail, and if Sarah is right, then he is not going to let me walk away since I'm the last thing he cares about."

John B shrugs. “Fair.”

You side-eye him as you grab the backpack that has your stuff jammed into it. A small part of you hopes someone will speak up, and tell you not to go, but no one does. It is you that has to do this. “See you guys soon?"

JJ’s body blocks yours from exiting the room. “Be careful, okay?”

You nod, and he slides out of the way as you swallow your fears while bracing yourself to face Rafe and deliver the news that the man he idolizes is no longer alive.

“You’re back?” Rafe leans against the door frame. Curiosity in his gaze as you snap back to reality.

“Can I come inside?” You ask, aware that he already suspects something is amiss.

He lifts his arm higher and pushes the door wider, allowing you to slip under his arm and exhale as you cross the foyer. You step into the main house and drop your bag by the door.

“Something to drink?” He asks while he passes you heading for the kitchen.

You follow him. Your hands are clasped around your arms as you hug yourself around the waist. “We need to talk.”

He glances at you as he pulls down a drinking glass and goes to the fridge. “About what?” He pulls out a soda can and looks at you after putting ice in the glass. “Like why you are back, but I haven’t heard from my dad…” He pops the tab on the can and begins to pour it into the glass. His steely gaze finds yours. “Rose called… looking for him.”

Worry increases inside of you. Rose… Wheezie… they do not know either. You inhale sharply and brace your hands against the marble countertop. The surface is cool under your sweaty palms.

Rafe crosses the distance and sets the cup by your hand before his fingers weave through your hair, and he tips your head back, leading you to look at him. “Is that why you are here?”

You bite your lip before nodding your head. “Yeah.”

He leans down, his breath fanning over your face. The look in his eyes becomes something predatory. “What happened, y/n?”

You inhale, wanting to touch him. To soothe your hands over his chest and brace him for the revelation barreling in his direction. This will ruin him. He will never forgive the pogues and you. You know him. And in his opinion, the blame will belong solely on all of your shoulders.

“He’s gone, Rafe.”

He watches you for a second. His gaze shifts over your face, trying to understand you. “I know, I put him on the plane, remember? I-it… It was safer for him to go.”

“Rafe…”

His fingers tighten around your hair before his touch vanishes completely, and he turns away from you. His shoulders tense, and his arms flex as he drags his hands over his buzzed head. He stalks to the edge of the kitchen tile before spinning, and you see the tears in his eyes. Then the shift to rage happens before you can even blink. He crosses the room in quick long strides. His fingers wrap around your throat, and he shoves you against the kitchen counter. The hard edge bites into your lower back, and you gasp sharply in surprise.

“What happened?!” He shouts, tears rolling down his cheeks. “What did you do to him?!”

“Rafe!” Your hand wraps around his wrist, nails biting into the soft underside of his wrist, your other hand fisting his polo as he tightens his grip. “You’re hurting me!”

“You killed my dad!”

“No!” You shake your head. “No, Rafe. Please…” You squeeze his wrist. “Please, Rafe, let me explain.” Tears collect in your eyes, and your heart breaks as he crumbles before you. A hollow rage storming in his eyes. “Please! I would never!”

“Those fucking pogues!” He roars, shaking with rage, then his touch disappears, and you crumple to the ground.

Gasping for air as you touch your neck, you realize how bad this is about to become. Your neck will likely bruise. Your heart races in your chest, adrenaline pumping through your veins. You should get out, and leave Rafe to deal with his grief before he hurts you again. But then you look at him and he is still the man you fell in love with, despite his mistakes, and he is the man you promised to come back to.

“What happened?” He stands against the counter. His hands push harshly down on the countertop until his skin is stark white and red around his knuckles and wrist from the pressure he is forcing into the marble instead of around your neck.

“I can go into detail when you are ready." You murmur. "But for now, you should know he did it to save Sarah." Rafe does not turn to look at you, but his shoulders tighten with your words. "There was a struggle with Singh. He followed us into the jungle, and his man threatened us after Singh died. He was going to kill Sarah. The one from the compound, and…” Your hand finds his back, but he shrugs you off, storming away but staying within hearing range. “Rafe… Your dad sacrificed himself for Sarah.”

Rafe shakes his head, pressing his fingers to his chest, while tears spill over again. “No. He wouldn’t do that. H-he wouldn’t do that!”

You frown, wiping at your own tears. “For Sarah, he would. Deep down, you know that. I know you don’t like or trust your sister, Rafe, but for Sarah… Ward would’ve done anything for her. He would have done this for you or Wheezie had it been either of you instead of Sarah. He did it. He took out Singh's man and saved Sarah."

He nods, wiping at his face before turning away from you. “All right. Then why isn’t she here telling me herself?”

“Because she’s scared of you.”

He snorts in disbelief.

“You did just have your hand around my neck…” You fade out as he turns to look at you. His gaze flickered to the red marks on your neck. “I’m fine, it’s fine. But there is a reason it is me and not her.”

He looks down at the floor. “You’re telling me the truth, right?”

“Yes.”

He is quiet, and you frown, wanting to wrap him in your arms and hold him together. This is not how you pictured coming back to him.

"The guy had a gun pointed at us. He threatened to kill us all." You whisper and cross a portion of the space between you. "He was going to shoot Sarah, so Ward rushed him and was shot. They fell from a cliff."

Rafe winces and you sigh, touching his bicep. Your fingers curl around the muscled width as your forehead falls to press against his back. "I'm sorry, Rafe, but he died protecting us. If he hadn't... if Ward hadn't done what he did, none of us would be here. You would be without a father and a sister."

"And you?"

You exhale, squeezing his arm. "And me."

“Does Rose know? Wheezie?”

"No," you whisper, dragging your other hand over his shoulder and neck. “Someone needs to tell them.”

“All right,” he murmurs, wiping his cheeks. “Okay. Okay.”

“I can ask Sarah to do it if you prefer,” you whisper, continuing to try and soothe him with your touch. “I can go get that done now…”

“Stay tonight,” he says, turning to look at you. Your hands fall away from him as he digs his phone out. His gaze locked on you for a moment. “Please?”

“I’ll stay.”

He nods. “I’m going to call Rose.” He moves closer, and you brace yourself for any sudden change in his behavior. His fingers skim across your cheek. “I'm the man of the house now. I'm... in charge of our family now. I have to do this."

"Okay."

"Wait for me upstairs.”

Some of the tension leaves you even though it is not a question. “Sure.”

He steps into Ward’s office and closes the door, his eyes on you as he puts the phone to his ear until the doors close.

You exhale and fish out your phone to send the pogues a quick message, before going upstairs as he asked. You spot his suitcase on the floor of the primary suite and sit on the edge of the bed after toeing off your shoes. You look around the unfamiliar space. Rose and Ward’s pictures still litter the room. You spy their clothing in the closet still. After pulling your knees up to your chest, you rest your chin on the top of your knee to wait for him.

It is dark, the sun having set before the sound of Rafe on the stairs reaches your ears. You turn your head to look at him as he comes in. The weight of the world is on his shoulders.

"Are they okay?"

He shakes his head, sniffling a little before shutting the door. You exhale, watching him with concern. He is quiet and seems to still be processing Ward's death.

He looks at you, watching you before he tugs his t-shirt up while moving closer. You reach up and help him pull it off before throwing it near his suitcase. His mouth is on yours, and you groan, tasting expensive scotch on his tongue.

"I promised to get my shit together," he mumbles against your lips. "You know, I really wanted to."

"And you can."

A sad laugh leaves him as he drags his mouth across your jaw and down your neck. "Can I?"

"Yes," you whisper, stroking your fingertips across the back of his head. His lips press to your collarbone and shoulder.

"Barry should still be awake..." He starts to move away from you, but you clamp your thighs around his hips and lock your arms around his neck.

"No!" You press your forehead against his. "Please don't. Stay with me, Rafe. Use me. Use me as much as you need. Not... cocaine. Me."

He watches you before grimacing. You cup his face, brushing your lips across his.

"I love you, Rafe. Use me."

He blows out a breath, and then you kiss him. You pour everything you felt after the plane left the tarmac into that kiss, and he groans, his body falling into yours, and your back meets the mattress.

-------

As always, feedback is welcomed, just remember to be kind. Please feel free to like, reblog, comment, or send an ask if you want. Happy Reading.

Let me know if we want this to continue and if you want to be added to a tag list.

#outer banks #obx #rafe cameron #outer banks rafe cameron #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n

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iamvegorott · 2 months ago

Text

Magicians Don't Need Superheros Pt35

First: Link Prev: Link Next: Link

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Jackie was facedown on Chase’s bed, an arm dangling off the side and face buried in the pillow. Chase sat beside his legs and could somehow understand the muffled ramblings from the other.

“So you’re crushing on Marvin?” Chase echoed. “Did you just realize this, or is it just now starting to, like, make you panic?”

“It hit me like a truck last night,” Jackie explained.

“I know that feeling of emotions hitting like a truck.” Chase chuckled.

“You made out with Henrik during an argument. That doesn’t count.”

“I mean, you and Marvin could-”

“I don’t want to get into a fight with him!” Jackie pushed himself up a bit, voice and face filled with panic. “I don’t want to be angry or have him be angry!”

“Is…Is everything okay in here?” Henrik asked after lightly knocking on the door and opening it.

“We’re just talking, Hen,” Chase said with a smile as Jackie flopped himself back down on the bed, talking through the pillow.

“What did he say?”

“He said he’s okay, wanted some advice.” Chase translated.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Henrik went over to the bed. “Is it advice needed for something physical? You have not spoken to me a lot about certain things that our bodies do, and if you are confused about how parts work, I can explain.”

“You sound like you’re offering the ‘birds and the bees’ talk,” Chase said.

“I mean, if he has any questions, we can-”

“Nope, nope, nope!” Jackie quickly scrambled to sit up. “I don’t need any of that. That’s not what I’m confused about.”

“Then what is the problem?” Henrik asked, blinking as Jackie answered with a groan, covering his face with his hands and falling back on the bed. Chase sighed as he stood, holding Henrik’s shoulder and guiding him back to the door.

“I got him, Hen. He’s having an…‘emotional discovery’.” Chase whispered the last part.

“Oh! Is it about M-” Henrik was stopped with a hand on his mouth.

“Yes.” Chase glanced over and saw that Jackie hadn’t moved from his spot, showing he hadn’t heard or at least understood them. “I’ll call ya if we need you, I promise.”

“Alright. Are we good for dinner?”

“Of course.”

“Wear something nice. No jeans.” Henrik reminded with a poke to Chase’s chest.

“I’m still going to wear my hat,” Chase said with a grin.

“Fine, fine, but that means you have to have a tie.”

“Deal.”

“I will see you then.” Henrik chuckled and stepped out of the room. Chase gave a little wave before closing the door.

“Still alive over there?” Chase asked as he sat back on the edge of the bed.

“Sadly,” Jackie grunted.

“It’s not that bad.”

“It’s the end of the world.”

“Having a crush is not the end of the world.” Chase patted Jackie’s knee.

“It feels like it.” Jackie sighed and sat up. “Maybe it’ll go away if I just ignore it-ow.” He flinched after Chase thumped him upside the head. “Dude?” “Ignoring it will only make it worse. Trust me.”

“But what if I like ruin everything? I really like being friends with Marvin.”

“It’s not going to ruin everything.”

“How do you-”

“Chase Brody!” A voice shouted from beyond the closed door.

“Is that Dark?” Jackie’s question completely changed.

“What in the world?” Chase grunted and got off the bed, leaving the room with Jackie following him. They came into the living room and saw the other Septiceyes already there, along with their sudden visitors of Dark and Mad.

“Let go of me!” Mad snapped as he yanked himself out of Dark’s hold. He started reaching behind him and paused when JJ caught his arm, shaking his head. Mad gritted his teeth, huffed through his nose, and let his arm drop. Anti, on the other hand, didn’t have someone stopping him.

“The fuck you think you’re doing?” Anti snapped, shoving Dark back. Marvin saw that Dark only had to take a step back, and that showed Anti had held back, either because he wasn’t fully in the mood to fight or seeing Chase come into the room had him trying to somewhat behave. But he did have his lips pulled back in a snarl, showing off slowly growing canines and softly hissing in a warning.

“He was eavesdropping on mine and Host’s talk,” Mad said.

“It is not eavesdropping if I am walking through my own home and you two are speaking loudly in the kitchen,” Dark spoke directly to Mad and then turned his attention to Chase. “And I thought we agreed that you Septiceyes were not supposed to interfere with the new Iplier.”

“Night,” Marvin stated.

“Pardon?” Dark’s voice was thick with annoyance.

“God of Night. That’s ‘the new Iplier’s name.” Marvin stood with his arms casually crossed. “While you are preventing the other Ipliers from working, we’ve actually made progress.”

“Putting yourself into more potential danger is not ‘making progress’. Congratulations on getting a name. And you have been beyond lucky at this point that you’ve yet to get seriously harmed.

“Aw, do you care about us, Darky?” Anti teased, snarl turning into a toothy grin when Dark glared at him.

“It’s not about caring about you Septiceyes: it’s about not fully exposing us to the rest of the world. Henrik and Edward may be talented doctors, but I can’t see any of you willing to let another die because you can’t get to Henrik on time and end up going to a hospital instead. A hospital where they run specific tests that will give away that we are not normal.” Dark’s words got Jackie to start curling up on himself. “While we are powerful, we cannot go against the world if we are found out. Who knows what they will try to do? They will cage us, extract everything that they can, experiment on what we can and cannot handle, use us for whatever they want because since we are not human in their eyes, we are not worthy of ethical means.”

“Dark, stop,” Marvin said, seeing how Jackie’s eyes went wider and wider, almost looking ill by this point. “You’ve made your point.”

“Have I? I don’t think you-” Dark stopped when he saw Jackie’s face. “I know that look.” He said to himself and then addressed Jackie directly. “Something happened to you. Did you get caught?”

“N-No.” Jackie crossed his arms, looking at anything that wasn't Dark.

“You have been caught.” Dark saw right through that. “When did this happen?”

“I-I haven’t. No, no, I just-I don’t-I don’t like the thought.” Jackie shook his head.

“Drop it, everything’s fine.” Chase stepped between Jackie and Dark.

“There is no need or use in upsetting him.” Henrik stepped in as well. He didn’t know everything but caught on enough to know this was a bad idea. JJ moved in front of Mad and looked at Anti. The movements of their faces showed that he was telling him something but didn’t allow anyone else to hear. Anti breathed harshly through his nose and took a step back, not appearing to be the happiest with that choice.

“No need? If Jackie has been studied to any degree, we need to know. If there is any record of who we are out there, it’s only a matter of time before they start hunting us down!” Dark’s words got Jackie to hug himself tighter as he took a step back.

“I told you everything is fine.” Chase repeated, trying to use his tone to tell Dark to politely ‘fuck off’.

“Clearly, it’s not if that is his reaction.” Dark pointed at Jackie and then used that same hand to push Chase aside. “You need to tell me what you did, right now.” He said as he went up to Jackie.

“I didn’t do anything.” Jackie’s voice was soft, body lightly trembling. “Leave me alone.”

“If we are in danger, I need to know everything that is going on.” Dark moved in closer.

“Dude, let’s step out and talk about this.” Chase tried again to keep Dark and Jackie separated, but Dark stayed in place.

“We are talking about it right now. What the fuck did you do, Jackie?” Dark’s voice gave away that he was worried, but he was certainly going about it the wrong way.

“I didn’t-leave me alone.” Jackie’s breathing was starting to get faster as voices started overlapping with everyone's arguments-

Tell me! Calm down! This is so stupid! You’re being a dick! Stop it! Stop!

Jackie felt like he was trapped, and Dark was directing all of his anger toward him about something that was fixed, something that wasn’t his fault. He didn’t want that stuff to happen. There was too much happening. It was too much.

“Don’t ignore me!” Dark grabbed Jackie’s arm, and that was the final straw.

“Go away!” Jackie pulled back his other arm and punched Dark in the center of the chest, sending him flying across the room. There was a hard and solid thud of Dark’s body hitting the wall, the house shaking from the impact. The spot on Dark’s chest where Jackie’s fist had connected was now covered with a ball of swirling black smoke.

There was a pause of silence, and Marvin glanced around the room, seeing Chase holding an arm out in front of Henrik and JJ pulling what looked like a baton out of Mad’s hand. Mad’s eyes were wide and dark blue with patches of red. Anti was tense, looking like he was ready to pounce, but it was hard to tell who he was ready to grab since he kept looking back and forth between Dark and Jackie.

Jackie.

“Jackie?” Marvin noticed how Jackie’s eyes were glowing green, no iris, no pupils, just a bright green, and his jaw was tight from clenching his teeth. “Jackie.” He noticed how Jackie was just glaring at Dark. There was strange, powerful energy radiating off him. It was something that couldn't be seen, it was something that could be felt. “Jackie, look at me.” Marvin saw Jackie twitch a little, likely fighting himself. “Jackieboyman, I will watch the newest Marvel movie without you and spoil it if you don’t look at me.” Yes, it was an odd threat, but it worked as Jackie blinked, and his eyes slowly started changing, the green fading, his pupils returning, and his irises back to blue.

“What?” Jackie blinked a few more times, and then it registered what he’d done. “Oh shit, oh shit! I’m so sorry! Oh my, God!” He tried to go over to Dark, and Marvin stopped him, Chase scrambling over to help. “I didn’t-I didn’t mean-I’m-I’m so sorry.”

“Breathe, Jackie, breathe. You know he’s okay. It was just a punch.” Chase said, managing to get his arms around the panicking Jackie and pull him into a hug.

Marvin looked over his shoulder and saw Dark was beginning to get up, grunting and exposing the man-shaped dent in the wall. If he didn’t already know about the supernatural aspects of the House, Marvin would have had more questions when he watched the wall shifting and repairing itself. Dark looked beyond pissed, the ball of smoke gone, and his chest was perfectly intact and clean like nothing had happened. Marvin was prepared to fight, but Anti swept in instead. His body became that black shadow Marvin saw him being the first time they met, and he pulled Dark through the front door. Not opening the door, he had literally pulled him through the wooden surface and to the outdoors.

Knowing that Chase had Jackie, Marvin went over to the window and peeked through it. He watched as Anti and Dark talked, well yelled, considering how aggressive they both looked. Anti seemed to be doing most of the yell-talking, continuing even when Dark tried to speak. Eventually, he saw the shift in Dark’s face. How it went from anger to confusion, to sorrow and empathy. Marvin wasn’t even aware those were emotions Dark even had. His brows went up when he witnessed Dark place a hand on Anti’s shoulder, and Anti brushed it off, both of them making some interesting faces. Marvin couldn’t fully understand them, but there was definitely something. He was going to need some more tea and gossip with JJ.

“Marv?” Jackie’s voice pulled Marvin’s attention back to the room.

“Yeah?” Marvin quickly read the space, seeing that JJ was now talking with Mad in a corner of the room, and Chase and Henrik were doing the same in a different corner. Jackie awkwardly held his arm and had a weak smile.

“Would you really watch a Marvel movie without me?” Jackie asked.

“Hell no. There is no way I could understand half of what was going on without your encyclopedia of comic book knowledge.” Marvin chuckled.

“Dark’s going back to the Manor,” Anti stated as he walked back into the House. He glanced over to Jackie and then rubbed the back of his neck, sighing, “I filled Dark in, Jackie…I’m sorry. I know you never wanted me to share those details, but he wouldn’t fucking let it go. Dark also believes that Chase knows everything about it as well, but that’s up to you how much of that you’re willing to share.”

“I thought Chase did know everything?” Marvin asked.

“He knew where I was and has an idea, but I never went into the details,” Jackie said. “Anti only knows those things because he saw them when he…when he did the stuff.”

“Details about what? What stuff did Anti do? Myself and JJ have never been told anything about what is being referenced.” Henrik said.

“Should…Should I leave?” Mad asked, his eyes shifting between several shades of blue. “I can call Mare to take me home, and-” He paused and looked at JJ. “Why shouldn’t I tell Mare what happened here?” JJ sighed and projected his voice to everyone in the room.

“We’ve handled the problem, and it’s something we can discuss with Dark more at a later point. But we don’t need Mare trying to fight him as well because he technically brought you here against your will. The last thing we need is more arguments while we’re still trying to figure out this whole ‘God of Night’ mess.”

“Mare wouldn’t-”

“He would.”

“Do we just keep doing what we’re doing, then?” Mad looked at all the other Septiceyes.

“We do.” Marvin was the first to speak. “Host said me and Jackie are supposed to deal with Night, so we will. Dark’s just being paranoid because it’s not going to your guys’ usual routine. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to like those things. We'll continue leaving him out of the loop for the most part, and we’ll drag Night’s ass to the Manor, and he can take over from there.”

“We can discuss that tomorrow. There’s other stuff we need to talk about today. If Jackie is willing, that is.” Henrik said.

“Can we eat first or, like, have some food with it?” Jackie requested, trying to keep a chipper tone, but his anxiety was obvious.

“Waffles?” Chase suggested.

“Please.”

#magicians dont need superheros #marvelsepticeye #veggie writes

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my-brothers-corrupted · 9 months ago

Text

My Brothers, Corrupted

Book Five: Section Ten

A familiar figure from Chase's past shows up at their doorstep. Marvin reunites with several old friends and tries to have calmer discussions with his brothers. Masterlist

Tws for alcoholism, self-hatred, and discussion of kids missing their dad. Tws may not be completely exhaustive - keep in mind the heaviness of the fic and look out for yourself.

Thank you to @lehhoh7822 for taking the time to compile this book!

“So he’s medicated?”

“Yeah, he’s doing a lot better!”

“Okay, but he needs to be seeing a clinician too. Is he seeing a clinician?”

“Um. You’d have to check with Jackie. I think he was handling that side of things.”

“Oh, Jackie is not good with appointments, Chase.”

“Haha. Well, you’ll have to ask JJ, I don’t know anything about it. But Jackie did go see a therapist and he was talking about maybe going again.”

“Good, he should. What about you?”

“Me? What, in therapy? I - ”

There’s a knock on the door of the apartment. Chase and Henrik both freeze, halfway through getting out of their jackets and shoes.

“Who is it?” murmurs Henrik.

“How should I know?” hiss-whispers Chase. “What if it’s the landlord again to kick us out for being too loud? Or - oh, shit! The hospital social worker! If she sees JJ’s black eye - ”

“Okay, don’t worse case stereo right away.”

“Scenario, Dok.”

“Whatever, just be grateful I’m talking, fucker. Don’t see you speaking German, anyway.”

“Okay - ”

“Is a girl,” says Schneep, peering through the peephole on the door.

“Like a kid?”

“No, a girl as in a woman, not that you’ve ever interacted with one of those before.”

“Marvin?” calls her voice through the door. Henrik and Chase both re-freeze, turning wide eyes towards each other. “It’s me. Are you there?”

“It’s Anti in disguise, like in Singapore,” gasps Chase. “Holy shit, he’s back, he’ll - holy shit. Nobody knows Marvin’s name.”

Schneep looks nervously through the peephole. “She sounds anxious, though.”

“He’s going to kill us.”

“Can we call Jackie?”

“No, we only have one phone and it’s here! The gun, where’s the - ugh, we couldn’t get it through airport security, shit, we’re - ”

“Who’s there?” calls Henrik through the door.

A long pause.

“It’s me,” she says again, more timid still. “Chase? It’s… it’s me.”

She has black hair and blue acrylic nails.

crystalninjaphoenix asked:

It's her, right? Well... let her in. Keep in mind this is going to be awkward at first. We don't know that much. Go slow. Don't expect it to all be fixed right away. And good luck.

“It’s her?”

“Who’s her?”

“Well, if you take a look - ”

“What if it’s Anti?”

“It’s not Anti!”

“You don’t know it’s not Anti - ”

“Jackie burned his corpse, but whatever, just - ”

Chase shoves his eye to the peephole and goes silent.

“Chase?”

“It’s her,” he whispers.

“Trick, you’re shaking.”

He turns to Henrik as white as candle wax.

And then sprints back towards his room and slams the door behind him.

“Chase. Chase?” she’s calling through the door.

Henrik touches the handle. He pulls the door open, just a crack.

Onyx eyes look up at him. His eyes flicker towards a flash of silver. She has a knife in her purse. His tongue wets his mouth.

“Chase?” she asks weakly.

He shakes his head, straightening up.

“Anti?” she asks.

He pulls the door open a little more. She steps back, gripping that pocket knife. As if it would do anything against him if he were really here.

“Schneep,” she croaks. “You’re… alive.”

“I’m alive,” he parrots quietly.

“You didn’t come back. You were just supposed to get groceries.”

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

The wind rushes past them. Her hair flutters into her face and away over her shoulder.

She steps forward. He doesn’t move.

Soft hands wrap around him.

She’s tiny. Shorter than he is. Not fragile, just… small.

She hugs him. Her hands grip his hair at the back of his skull, gently.

He hugs her back. His hands settle uncertainly on her hips. In the open door of the apartment, they’re still.

Anonymous asked:

Jackie, Anti is gone. Why do you still feel the need to grieve later?

“Are you sad?”

“What?”

JJ looks at him for a moment before repeating himself.

“Oh. No,” says Jackie, kicking a rock as they walk back towards the apartment. “No, I’m fine.”

JJ doesn’t push it, just watches him out of the side of his eye. Jackie gives the rock another kick, sending it skittering in front of him.

It’s true, of course. Anti’s gone.

Why do I still do this to myself? he wonders, keeping that rock in front of him. He doesn’t want to have to let it stop. JJ’s allowed to cry but you aren’t? What, you don’t want to think about it? All I do is… push things back.

He kicks the rock.

I work so I don’t have to think about anything. Work and run and repeat. Don’t have to think about how Blue and I are fighting, or how he’s gone, or how we’re so broke I can’t even get them beds, or how sometimes even I wish Anti were here - that structure he gave me. That feeling of knowing my place in the world. And sometimes, just every once in a while - that feeling of being useful to anyone. What, are you going to break down and show them you’re just as scared as they are? I wish -

A hand grabs his arm and pulls him back before he can walk into the street. A car moves past them in a rush of red and gold lights.

JJ’s signing at him rapidly, but Jackie can’t quite follow. He’s suddenly so exhausted.

“Jackie, come on, watch where you’re going!” JJ wraps his arm into Jackie’s and pulls him forward, the vanity mirror held under Jackie’s free arm. “Let’s just get home, okay?”

“Sorry,” Jackie mumbles.

Grieve later so you don’t have to think about it now. Grieve later because if he stops to think about how he’s feeling at all, it’s going to break him in half.

If he stops to think about just how bad he wants - just how much he misses -

JJ wraps their fingers together, squeezing Jackie’s palm through his glove. Jackie wipes at his face and shakes his head, letting JJ lead him.

Grieve later. Or better, don’t ever grieve at all, because if you do, you might just never stop grieving.

Anonymous asked:

Stacy is here! Chase, you absolutely must go see her, and let these emotions happen. You can't hide away from this, this has to happen in order for you to heal. She's your family. She won't hurt you or run from you or think any less of you because of what you've gone through. Go see your partner, Chase, I'm sure she's missed you greatly.

Chase stands by the door to his bedroom, his hand gripping the handle like he might just go back out there. But he doesn’t move. Listens at the door, breathing short and thin. His eyes flicker over to you. Away again. He paces beside the door for a moment, scraping at the old scar at his hand.

“I’ve dreamed about this girl for a year,” he whispers, fingers drifting to the crinkle paper in his pocket. “About her hand on mine, and the way she smelled, and the warmth when you wake up next to her. And then, just now, when I saw her, I didn’t feel - I didn’t feel like in my dreams. Like everything was okay, and nothing was ever going to move her from my side. I felt - ”

He closes his eyes. Shudders out a breath.

“I felt bad.”

scunneredzombie asked:

Well Chase, you and Stacy did get divorced at one point, and we're unsure what the relationship status was when you were last on the run together. So you might have some buried anxieties and pain surrounding that.

“Holy shit, holy shit!” He slumps down to the floor, dragging his knees to his chest and hiding his face in them. “I can’t - ”

“Chase.” Henrik is rapping at the door, voice clear and familiar through the wood. “Are we hiding?”

“Yes, we’re hiding,” he mumbles into his jeans, tugging at his hair. “Forever, maybe.”

Henrik lets out a low hum of sympathy. “I don’t think she’s angry, my dear.”

“I don’t feel good. Tell her I don’t feel good.”

Henrik slips open the door beside him and sits down next to him, touching his arm.

Anonymous asked:

Jackie don't be startled when you get home, Stacy is there and Chase is a bit spooked. As far as us cameras know there's no reason to go on the defensive.

“Wait, what?” shouts Jackie, and if it weren’t for JJ’s hand in his own he’d be sprinting down the street already.

“Jackie, no, stay calm!”

“There’s someone in my apartment I barely know, with my little brothers - ”

“Jackie, she’s the mother of your nephew and niece, don’t freak out! We might be able to see them if we play our cards right! The cameras say there’s no reason to get defensive.”

“She scared Chase!”

“Yeah, it’s Chase, he has anxiety. Dok’s there. He’s fine. Come on, we’ll get home, just don’t freak out…”

scunneredzombie asked:

Even if it feels bad and painful, talking to her is worth it for the chance you'd get to see your babies again, right Chase? Like Schneep said she doesn't seem angry, just nervous and scared. I think you can do it, you're so so strong Chase. You deserve to see your family again, and it's going to be a painful process, but at least you have your brother here with you to help you through it.

“The kids,” breathes Chase. “Fuck, they’re… are they safe?”

“Go ask her,” says Schneep, patting his arm.

“I don’t remember her name,” Chase whispers.

“Go ask her,” repeats Schneep, chuckling flimsily. “You must explain to her what has happened… where you have been.”

“I have to tell her what he did to me?”

“It doesn’t have to be everything. But I think she probably wants to know why we have no memory of her. And why we did not return.”

Chase breathes out.

He’s faced worse things than this, right? He fought Anti. Fought the dark part of himself. Fought off hypnosis, struggled against androids and vigilantes, sprinted down the mountainside to get his brother’s medication before Anti beat Dok to hell and back.

Facing his ex can’t be worse… probably?

“Come with me,” pleads Chase.

“Sure,” says Henrik. “Anywhere. Get up, then.”

Chase pushes himself to his feet and steps out into the living room, twisting his crinkle paper in his hands.

There’s no couch or anything to sit on, just bare space, so Stacy stands by the door, playing with a button of her jacket and frowning. She’s so pretty it almost takes Chase’s breath away. He sees her eyes flicker across his body - his cheap, torn jeans and his supermarket t-shirt. He wonders if she can see all his scars from here - the burned hands and gun-calloused fingers. The cuts along his arms and legs, so old and frequent he doesn’t even remember where each one came from.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” she says.

“I, um. How are you… here?”

She clears her throat and takes a step closer. “Friends got a call from Marv and Jackie. They told us you were here. The magicians were going to come with me, made all these plans… but I snuck off to come see you. Couldn’t wait any more.”

“Oh.”

“So… is Anti going to jump out and kill me in a few?”

Chase shakes his head. “Um. He’s dead.”

“Oh. Good.”

“Yeah.”

A pause.

“Are the kids - ?”

“I just don’t understand - ”

“Sorry, I’m totally messed up and I - ”

“If it was something I did I - ”

They cut off halfway through their rambling, meet each other’s eyes, and burst into giggles.

She’s stepping towards him, tears in her eyes, and he thinks he’s probably crying too.

“Hey, I have amnesia,” he chokes out. “We all do. And I’m really sorry for everything.”

“Oh,” she says weakly. “That explains it.”

“But I - I remembered you, moment to moment. Even when Anti would try to make me stop.”

“Thanks,” she says. “Well. I’m Stacy.”

“Stacy,” he breathes. “Nice to, um. Re-meet you.”

“Can I - can I give you a hug?”

“Okay,” he manages.

And she’s in his arms again.

She still makes him feel scared. But this - the warmth of her arms, the smell of her -

This is something worth remembering.

“Tell me everything that happened,” she begs. “Please.”

“It’s a long story,” he warns.

Her hand squeezes against his, pressing into that faded old burn.

“We have time.”

Anonymous asked:

Oof, that's a long story to tell. Well, to help out, us cameras can explain something. When Chase and Henrik didn't come home from the store, it was because Red, Anti, and Dapper kidnapped them in the parking lot, leaving Marvin scared and alone before he was taken too.

“I always figured Anti must have caught you,” she says, sitting at the table with Henrik and Chase. “When we realized Anti was close, Marvin told me he had to draw him off. He ran off somewhere and said he would let Anti get a hint of him. Just a hint, though. He was supposed to come back once things were more safe. But he never did.”

“So… what did you do?” asks Chase.

“Rebuilt my life in Sweden,” she sighs. “Just… stayed there with the kids. We felt safe with the magicians Marvin trusted. We still do. Leah and Colin and the rest have all made sure we had what we needed. Except the kids’ dad, of course.”

“So they’re okay?” Chase asks.

“Yeah, they’re okay,” says Stacy.

Chase slumps back in his chair, going pale again. If the answer had been no, he thinks he would have broken in half. “Can I see them?”

“Of course,” she answers. “They’ve missed you so much. I didn’t even tell them you all might be alive. Didn’t want to get their hopes up. But I don’t know how they’ll take it, either. But just - you know I’m going to be there through visits, right? And I’m not comfortable with you keeping them overnight or - ”

“Oh, no, Stacy, that’s fine,” breathes Chase, rubbing his face. “Shit, I don’t even know if I would be able to do that now anyway. Yeah, we gotta take this real slow.”

She smiles at him, earnest and sad at the same time.

“It’s really good to be on the same page as you for once.”

“We’re… we’re divorced?”

She reddens a little and nods at him. “But we’re going to make this work as parents, right? That’s what we were working on before all this happened.”

“We were figuring out how to get along?”

“Um, we were actually pretty much tearing each other apart before this all started,” admits Stacy, only turning redder. “But you’d be surprised how much being chased out of the country by a supernatural being who wants to kill you makes you realize just how unimportant most of those fights were. Like, who cares if you let Hunter watch PG-13 movies? There are a lot more important things.”

“I get that.”

“So… he really kidnapped you. And - like he did with Jameson and Jackie. He made you… puppets.”

Chase stares down at his feet for a long moment. “Yeah. He did.”

“It - did he treat you badly?”

Chase closes his eyes. “He… tried to make me believe that he didn’t. But he was a monster. And in the end he - ”

He can’t stop his eyes from flashing over to Henrik. Coated in scars that will never go away.

“It’s over now,” he tells Stacy. “That’s what matters.”

She puts her hand out. He reaches up and wraps his fingers around hers.

“I’m really glad you’re alive,” she says, very quiet. “And I know you don’t remember, but… I’m sorry for how things went down between us. Anything you need now, I will help with.”

“Thank you,” he whispers.

Anonymous asked:

Stacy seems a lot nicer than I was expecting! How are you doing Chase? Not getting too overwhelmed right? Remember to take this all slowly for your emotion's sake.

“Yeah, it’s pretty overwhelming,” breathes Chase. “But, um. I still want to try this. And I know this is probably even more overwhelming, but - but I want to see the kids as soon as I can. Is that - ”

“I’ll see how they react when I tell them you’re here,” says Stacy. “I think Izzy might need a little time.”

The door pushes open with a slam and all three of them jolt up to see Jackie and JJ in the doorway. Henrik and Chase exchange glances.

“Is she cool?” asks Jackie thunderously.

“She seems cool,” answers Chase weakly.

“Hmmmm.”

Anonymous asked:

She's cool Jackie, don't worry. She offered to let him see the kids and she's been very nice so far! Don't get too defensive, it'll be okay, she's family just like your brothers are.

“If Marvin were here, he’d tell you I’m cool,” Stacy insists.

“Yeah, well, he’s not,” snaps Jackie.

Stacy looks at Chase and Henrik, who give her shrugs in answer.

“Whatever,” mutters Jackie, throwing his shoes by the door. “I’m going to go lie down.”

Henrik and Chase blink at him. “What, just like that? You don’t mind?”

“Just call me if you need me.” He stalks down the hall, rubbing his hands across his scalp. Honestly, he’d rather be keeping an eye on her, but he knows he was about to blow up again, and he’s not having a repeat of last night. Screaming at Blue like that… scaring everybody…

He slams the door to his room, leaving the mirror in his closet, and flops onto the bed, letting out a deep sigh. Here, the grief threatens to catch up with him - the grief and the hurt and the anger. He rubs at his face and keeps his breathing steady. He needs something to distract himself. His computer, maybe.

Anonymous asked:

The computer seems like a good distraction Jackie! Maybe you can practice your coding, or watch Into The Spiderverse again? Or torrent some more movies for all of you to watch? There's lots you can do when it comes to computers, which is why it might be good for distracting from a possible meltdown/burnout.

“We can’t afford internet, but I can steal some from the apartment downstairs if I really want it. But yeah, maybe I’ll just code for a while. Anything to avoid thinking about - you know. Everything.”

Anonymous asked:

Chase, what do you expect to happen when you see your kids? I know they'll be sad that you don't remember them, but hopefully it can all work out.

Chase chews at his lip, shaking his head. “I… don’t know. What is that even like? Your dad just disappears and then - then he just shows back up? But he doesn’t remember you? I don’t know anything about them. Maybe it’s better if I don’t see them at all.”

“Chase,” says Stacy. “Uncle Marvin promised them he’d come back. They never stopped hoping you all would. They knew that it was because of Anti that you disappeared… they knew that was why we had to run away and go somewhere new, and why JJ and Jackie never came home. Hunter cries for you all the time. They want to see you. It’ll be hard, yeah, but not as hard as never having Papa back.”

Chase wipes at his face, breathing out shakily. “Do you have any pictures of them?”

“I left my electronics with the magicians. Just in case Anti was here.”

“Oh, yeah. How old are they?”

“Izzy’s eight,” she says. “And Hunter’s five.”

“Five, wow,” he breathes. “I really just… forgot. I just remembered bits of when they were babies. But they’re so big.”

“Hunter just remembers that he loved Daddy and he wants him back. But Izzy - she’s big enough that she still remembers the divorce, and everything that led up to it. I think she’s a little angry, Chase. That she never got a chance to see you better. You were drinking a lot the last time we tried visits. She remembers that. She was the one who would have to go find one of her uncles to bring her home if she smelled it on you. Little kids, they remember that stuff.”

A deep shame opens up in Chase’s stomach like a chasm. He’s stiff and shaky against the table, rubbing at his crinkle paper.

“How’s your drinking now?”

“Anti didn’t allow that stuff,” Henrik comes to his aid easily. Maybe even proudly. “It’s not a problem anymore.”

Oh, fuck. Chase nods tersely and avoids their eyes.

“Good,” says Stacy, relaxing.

Oh, fuck, he’s a horrible father.

“Look, I need to get back before the magicians notice I’m gone and follow me here. I’m sure they’ll want to be there before you can meet the kids or anything. They’re good people, though, really. If you guys are really okay and Anti is dead, I’m sure we can convince them that you’re safe. Right?”

“Right,” says Chase weakly. He tries not to think about whiskey and bruised black eyes, about screaming and magic fire burning out of Marvin’s control. About Henrik staring listlessly out of the window and Jameson carving eyes into the walls.

They’re going to get it together. They have to.

Henrik and Stacy talk plans. He catches her up on what she needs to know and she provides him with her phone number. Chase thinks about how different things could be if Anti was here. How he could get inside his head and force him to trick her. Force her to give up the kids.

He was just a slave. And he’s still just a fucked-up drunk with nothing to offer them.

“Chase.” Henrik is gripping his hand, pulling him back to the present. “What’s the matter? Come, let’s say goodbye.”

They see Stacy out the door before Henrik turns back to him, worried. Chase slumps back into his chair and puts his face in his hands.

“Overwhelmed?” asks Henrik.

Chase nods.

“You did well. It’s going to be alright, Chase.”

Anonymous asked:

Chase, you still struggling with alcohol doesn't make you useless or make it mean you have nothing to offer them. You're an addict, it's true, but you don't become worthless just for being one. You have worth, you have value, and your family and your kids love you. Don't feel like a fuck up for relapsing, you're under a ton of stress. One step back doesn't erase the millions of little steps forward. -🎒

He nods to himself, cooking something in the kitchen while Henrik and JJ play cards on the floor of the living room. He’s trying to distract himself with spices and bread, but the truth is he’s going to have to face this, or it will just keep getting worse. He has to find a way to handle it.

“We’ve got to do something about the stress around here,” he mutters. “I - I can’t risk going back. You’re right, I’ve taken too many steps forward. If Anti locking me up was what it took to make me stop drinking the first time, it’s not like I can just go do that again. I have an addiction but… I want to be a good dad. I can’t let myself drink like that again. Fuck, I don’t even know what I was thinking, I just… gah. Stupid.”

He stirs the pot on the oven, glancing over at JJ and Henrik. He should tell someone, but he doesn’t think he could admit it to Henrik when he can imagine the look on his face. Jackie would be angry but try to hide it, because he hides everything these days. Jameson would probably be helpful, but Chase has never really confided in him before. He can’t really picture it at all.

He wishes Blue were here.

Anonymous asked:

Chase, you're still seeing a therapist right? They can probably recommend you to a local rehab group or group therapy to talk about your alcoholism. It could be helpful to talk to people who understand the feeling, yeah?

Chase shrinks in on himself slightly. “I… have not seen a therapist, no. I was supposed to. Jackie saw one, like once, before he got so bummed out. And JJ sees a psychiatrist at the hospital. That’s all.”

He runs his hands through his hair. Just the last bit of yellow at the end of his fringe, now. He’ll be all back to brown next time he cuts it.

“I guess I know I should see a therapist,” he says. “Like, I’ve always known. Anti really fucked me up. But I’ve been so busy trying to help Dok. Maybe him coming back to himself and Stacy showing up - that’s my cue that I need to start going. Even if it’s scary to think about. They could recommend me to more stuff.”

He lets a long, deep breath out of his chest.

“Okay. Yeah. I’ll try it.”

Anonymous asked:

Blue, are you doing okay? Stacy came to visit the others and if... if you want you could head home to meet her and the magicians within the next few days? You must be getting lonely in that old bus. I know it was a really low point for you, running away. You would be better off being with your family, being where you can be safe and healthy.

Stacy walks back through the city towards the library, lost in her thoughts. She gets cat-called and replies with a half-hearted middle finger, barely registering it.

In a way, she supposes there are good things about this. Chase doesn’t have to remember everything that happened between them - the screaming fights, the words they exchanged, how quickly they seemed to turn on each other, the shitty things that he did and the shitty things she did too. How their friends and his brothers ended up having to play mediators between them, getting involved in all their drama. They can move past that.

But he’s also forgotten the good times. What it was like to dance in their pajamas at midnight on New Years, playing old love songs from the computer. What it was like to be mum and dad together. Fuck, they were young. How she came to him sobbing and admitted she was pregnant, expecting him to freak out or leave her or yell - and instead he dropped to his knees and kissed her stomach and asked her to marry him with tears in his bluebird eyes, and wasn’t he so beautiful there in the afternoon light? And isn’t he still beautiful, more grown, more scarred, just as gentle as he ever was despite everything?

She arrives at the fountain beside the library and pulls a piece of paper out of her pocket, unfolding it to reveal an image that is familiar to you: a lapwing bird, the same image tattooed onto Blue’s arm. When the reflection of the bird touches the water, the other dimension opens like a doorway before her, and she can press her hand through the water, and step out on the other side.

Maybe it’s because she’s so lost in her thoughts that for a moment, she does not recognize the person speaking with the magicians.

“It was like being half of who I was at the time,” he is saying, voice loud and confident. “I was so ill every day I thought I would die. And when it was given back to me - I was alive again, and none of the skill had left me. Like a limb was reattached. And I tore the darkness apart with that flame. Rebuilt the trees of the forest. I felt like a part of the earth again, and the earth listened when I spoke.”

Several of the Irish magicians who make their home base here in this mirror dimension and her Swedish friends, Leah and Colin, are crowded around him, listening intently and asking questions, occasionally reaching out to touch his arm or hand like they can’t believe he’s real. He has soft white hair and eyes blue as flame. His hands rise and fall as he speaks, and she sees the glitter of rings on his fingers and the swirl of tattoos. He seems to have his own internal light source. He seems to gleam.

“Couple days after that, my brothers and I went head-to-head with his mind tricks and tore them the hell apart. It made him weak enough we could beat him down, and when he was finally weak enough and begging like a coward, I put a knife in his goddamn heart and we burned what was left of him. Since then? I’m free of him, yeah.”

There’s excited shrieking from his feet as the magicians continue to quiz him and the person leans down and scoops up Stacy’s son into his arms, eagerly rocking Hunter up and down, up and down, fast enough to make him howl with laughter. Stacy steps out into the grand hall of the magicians and recognizes him.

“Marvin,” she breathes.

He turns to her smiling. Goddamn. Goddamn. He seems to glow.

“Hi,” he whispers, and the others around them fall silent too, in honor of the reunion. “I think I knew you once.”

“I think you did,” she answers quietly.

“It’s Uncle Marv!” screams Hunter, throwing his arms around his neck. “You found me!”

“I found you!” He kisses Hunter’s face and throws him into the air only to catch him again. “Here I am.”

Stacy steps up to him and touches his arm. Marvin smiles at her again, perhaps a little nervous closer up. She realizes Izzy is here too, just clinging to Marvin’s leg. But while Hunter is shouting and celebrating, Izzy is just hiding her face against his pants and clinging to him, silent. Stacy strokes her daughter’s hair, but she can’t pull her eyes off her sibling-in-law.

“I can’t believe this,” she says. “How did you lot find him?”

“We didn’t,” laughs Colin. “He remembered that his tattoo lets him into this place and just came down the stairs all of a sudden.”

“Unbelievable,” a second magician joins in. “He’s been missing for more than a year and then just comes back, just like that, alive.”

“I took some time away from my brothers,” says Marvin, a little shyly. “And I should go home, too - I will, soon. But I just… remembered a part of myself that existed outside of them, I think. Maybe I needed that. I’m safe now, though. And I’m not alone.”

“I can’t even believe my eyes.”

“Ah, am I that bad?” asks Marvin, a little red in the face.

“No,” she chuckles, touching his cheek. “You’re as beautiful as ever, pretty boy.”

Marvin smiles so wide his teeth seem to shine too.

“I missed you, Marv,” she confesses. “I really have.”

“We all have,” laughs Leah, beaming at him. “Can’t lose a great friend and a great magician without missing you.”

“You found us!” shrieks Hunter, throwing his arms around his neck. “You found me, Uncle Marvin!”

Marvin lifts him and catches him. Lifts him and catches him. Hunter is laughing and shouting and holding him.

“I love you, Marvin,” says Hunter, giving him a sloppy kiss on the cheek. “I love you.”

Blue holds him and spins him and picks Izzy up too, kissing her face, and she clings to him like all that matters in the world is there against his shoulder.

Marvin.

Coming from them, it really doesn’t sound like too bad of a name at all.

Anonymous asked:

I had no idea images could be used as passwords! That's honestly really cool, could the magicians explain how something like that works? Tattoo passwords seem awesome.

“I didn’t know that either,” says Marvin, turning to the nearest magician, a bear of a man with a wildly impressive beard. “How does that work?”

“You did know it, just forgot it,” replies the man genially, clapping his shoulder. “You helped create that magic, Marvin.”

“Mirror magic is an old art of magicians,” continues a young girl with a shock of red hair. “While most of us have our own unique Talent, there are certain spells like that that can be written down, passed on, and performed by anyone with magic. For the longest time, we just used passwords.”

“Right, spoken passwords,” says Colin. “But then your little brother developed mutism.”

Marvin blinks. “Yeah? So… we figured out a way around it?”

“Yeah! It was our first time trying out things like gesture passwords and imagery passwords. It took a couple years, but we figured it out. Now there’s really no way to get the secret password out of someone. You can’t torture or mind-control someone into revealing an image.”

Marvin brushes his fingers over the tattoo in his shoulder. “Must have meant a lot to me, I guess. To look into it that much.”

“Ugh, we spent the whole year hearing about how sweet your baby brother is,” chuckles the red-haired girl. “By the time we figured it out, you were practically an expert on mirror magic.”

Marvin smiles down at his shoes for a moment. He has a lot to make up for. A lot to rebuild.

But today, he actually feels like it’s possible.

Anonymous asked:

Magicians, why have you broken off contact with other groups of magicians? Were you in hiding after what happened to Marvin?

“Oh, yeah, what the fuck?” he cries.

“Marvin,” scolds Stacy, cupping Hunter’s ears.

“Oh, sorry. But seriously! My brother was in England and he said that the magicians there said they had heard nothing from you for more than a year. They thought Anti might have killed you all!”

“Ohhh, England,” says the bearded man. “Yes, there’s a very simple explanation for that, actually. They’re - ”

He pauses to cover Hunter’s ears.

“They’re DICKS.”

Marvin bursts into laughing, rubbing his head. “Are you joking?”

“No, we cut off all communication with the British magicians. I mean, it’s not that all of them are terrible, of course, but in the past decade or so they’ve become overrun by these monsters you wouldn’t believe. Old leaders who never grew out of outdated, discriminatory practices, young men and women who think they’re entitled to the world… it’s a mess.”

“What, and we’ve just left them to it?” asks Marvin, frowning. “Shouldn’t something be done? Jameson is British.”

“Unfortunately if we set out to correct every magical order with outdated practices we’d be at work in many of the countries in the world. Magical orders are notoriously independent - we barely communicate as is, and largely leave each other to our own devices. But still, there has been talk of it. Sending ambassadors, joining with other nations, and so on. We do communicate with a few British magicians who are not terrible and who want to improve things - the people on the inside who actually understand what’s going on with them - and we try to help if we can. But of course we’ve been so scattered this last year plans haven’t gone far.”

“Why scattered?” asks Marvin.

“Because you were missing,” answers the man, like it’s obvious. “Our leader disappeared.”

Anonymous asked:

Marvin you're their leader?! Holy shit!

“But this must be a lot to take in!” cries Leah. “You don’t have to go back to being in charge if you don’t want to, Marvin.”

“No, you do have to, actually,” protests the bearded man. “You do.”

“David here has been in charge since you vanished.”

“I’m dying, Marvin. I’m dying.”

“No, he’s not,” scowls the red-haired girl, elbowing him in the gut. “He just doesn’t like having to work. Marv, take your time.”

“We have a lot to go over, I guess,” laughs Marvin weakly. “Um. Was I a good leader?”

“Very good!”

“I liked you.”

“Yeah, chill.”

“Do I get to be called, like, High Witch or Dumbledore or something like that?” Marvin asks.

“If you want!”

“Oh, Marvin, stay for dinner! We’ll put something together quickly. I’ve got to call everyone! Sit, Marvin, tell us everything. And we’ll tell you everything. And just - everything!”

Anonymous asked:

Would it be possible to contact the Ravens? Just to let them know that everyone's okay and Anti is gone? Or is that not a good idea right now?

“Is that something I could do?” asks Marvin. “The Peruvian magicians? My brother made some friends over there.”

“Sure thing. I bet we have a contact method somewhere.”

“Dok will be happy,” says Marv, clapping his hands together. “I’ll talk to him about what he wants to say and then - yeah! We can let them know. That’s a good idea.”

Anonymous asked:

Welcome home, Marvin the Magnificent. Welcome back to yourself.

Soon people are starting up food and Leah and Colin are sharing baby pictures and new magicians are coming in from different portals across the country. Marvin tries to take it all in at once - he does not want to miss a moment of it. Glowing candle-light and friends he has forgotten, now coming back to him. Teenagers introducing themselves with awe in their eyes while the old women greet him like a child come home. The warm smell of everyone’s magic spun together and the unfamiliar familiarity of this place where he once worked and lead. He does not want to miss it.

But in the middle of all this, he has a smile just for you.

“Thank you,” he says, and in the light he is gold and white and blue, glowing like a star.

“Yeah,” he says. “This - this is the start of something. And at long last, I feel ready to start it.”

In a flame-lit hall set apart from the rest of the world, he sits down with his nephew and his niece and his sister and his friends, and he recognizes a part of himself he thought was gone forever, and for the first time in more than a year, he is able to see that Marvin the Magnificent was someone worth loving.

Like you told him all along.

“Yeah. Yes. Thank you.”

Anonymous asked:

Chase maybe you should spend some time with Noodle? You need to do something relaxing after a big stressful thing like that.

Chase sits in his nest with Noodle in his lap, pressing the side of his head into Noodle’s side. His cat purrs. He is a good cat. A big cat, now. A big, lanky cat who grew up from a kitten in what feels like minutes now.

Chase strokes his back. Slow and even. Calm. He needs to be calm.

“Chase?” asks Henrik, sticking his head in the door. “You ready to go?”

Deep breath. Okay. He can do this.

He tightens around Noodle’s body for a minute and kisses his cat’s head. His little companion.

“Hey,” he whispers for a second, scratching his head. “You are the only worthwhile thing Anti ever gave me. Just so you know.”

Noodle purrs at him, his eyes sliding shut. Chase kisses him one more time and then gets up, squaring his shoulders.

“Yeah,” he says. “Let’s go.”

It’s been so long. How could he let fear delay seeing them any longer?

Anonymous asked:

Finally time to see your kids Chase? I'm sure they'll be so happy!

“Yeah, here’s hoping,” he says, clutching his hands together. “Yeah.”

He sits at a bench in the park a couple blocks away with Henrik, Jackie, and JJ closeby. Henrik is waiting with him while JJ and Jackie throw a frisbee they found in the bushes.

“Here she comes,” says Henrik, reaching out to touch Chase’s hands.

And Stacy’s beautiful, and Stacy’s a piece of him, and Stacy is a memory and a presence to him - but she is gone the moment he sees Hunter. She disappears.

There’s just him. In the whole world, there’s just him.

Chase can feel the blood pounding in his head, deafening him. He stands up and moves forward, and he sees that little boy tug away from his mother’s hand and come sprinting towards him on his tiny, chubby legs, and Chase is on his knees and reaching for him -

Hunter.

“Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!”

He wishes that Hunter were screaming with joy as they wrap together, but as his awareness comes and goes in numb waves, he hears that Hunter is screaming like he’s in pain, squeezing Chase so hard he will leave little fingernail marks in his skin. Hunter is sobbing and shrieking. Chase bows over in the grass, hugging him to his chest, and Hunter’s legs and arms are wrapped around him so tight that even if Chase let go, Hunter would cling to him like a monkey. Chase rocks him up and down, kneeling on the ground, while his baby screams and cries and holds him.

He can’t speak or breathe. There’s nothing but this. His son has black hair and his mother’s onyx eyes, deep as the ocean. He is small for his age, wearing a blue shirt with a goldfish on it and green shorts. He has freckles all over his face. Chase kisses them even though Hunter’s nose is running and he’s crying wildly. He squishes him back to his chest and stills, and they hold each other there against the grass, and Chase does not let him go.

People have stopped to watch them in the park from the fuss they’re making, but Chase doesn’t notice, and Jackie stands in front of them if people get too close, guarding. Chase rocks Hunter and tries to remember how to breathe.

“My baby,” he whispers. “My son.”

“Where is the girl?” Henrik asks Stacy quietly, stepping towards her.

“She’s, um. Back at the entrance to the park with Marvin.”

“With Marvin?”

“Long story. Just… she’s not quite as eager as Hunter. That’s all. Marvin’s talking to her.”

Anonymous asked:

Why is Izzy so reluctant? Is everything okay? These are some big emotions for some little kids :(

“Where’s my daughter?” asks Chase, trying to get to his feet, though his legs are shaky. “Is she - ?”

“Daddy, don’t go!” screams Hunter, clawing at him as he feels him adjust. “Don’t go, Daddy!”

“Okay, baby, here I am, here I am,” Chase hushes him, pulling him with him as he rises and rocking Hunter against his chest.

“Papa, don’t leave again!”

“No, baby, no,” croaks Chase, cupping his head. “No, I won’t…”

Stacy comes over to them and sets her hand on Hunter’s back, rubbing down his spine. “Papa’s not going away again, okay?” she hushes, and when Chase pulls her closer to him, she doesn’t protest. “Mommy and Daddy are right here.”

Hunter weeps and Chase shakes as he feels Stacy put her head down on his shoulder and cry too, stroking their son’s back. They are big emotions for little kids. Too big. Not for the first time, the reality of how much Anti took from him rolls over Chase, and he shudders through the hatred and the pain of it. For all that he fought for his brothers in the end, he thinks holding Hunter like this even once would have broken Anti’s grip on him forever. He could have stabbed Anti himself.

“Izzy’s just angry that you were taken away,” says Stacy, rubbing his back too for a second. “She has such big emotions already, and then something like this - the temper on that girl. She throws fits. She’s just really missed you, Chase, that’s all. She wants to understand what happened but we never had the answers. We weren’t sure if you would ever come home. She’s just angry and afraid of losing you again.”

“I’ll go talk to her,” breathes Chase. “I… I don’t know, I’ll - I have to see her.”

He actually sees Blue, now that he looks, kneeling to talk with a figure in front of him, his back to Chase. Blue reaches out to smooth away long dark hair. Something in Chase’s chest heaves. He curls around his son.

“Hunt, will you stay with Mum while I go talk to your sister?”

“No, Daddy, no!”

“I’m just going to go right over there, Hunter. Do you see?”

“Hunter, you can say hi to Uncle Jackie and JJ and Sheep!” Stacy encourages him, pulling him away from Chase. He whimpers but doesn’t struggle. “And then Papa will come right back.”

“Right back, Papa.”

“Yes, sweetie, right back, yes. Yes.”

“What’s the matter, darling?”

“I don’t want to see Daddy.” She hides her face against his legs as he runs his hands through her hair, pulling it back into a ponytail. “I don’t want to.”

“Why, Izzy?”

She just cries louder, squeezing his pants leg. Blue brushes at her head, beginning to pull her hair into a braid.

“Your dad has really missed you, you know,” says Blue. “He has really wanted to see you.”

“I don’t want Dad to have forgotten me. That’s not fair!”

Her voice rises to a scream and then breaks into crying again.

“I know, cherie,” murmurs Blue. “I know it isn’t.”

He sees Chase coming towards them. “Darling, will you just say hi to him?”

“No, no!”

“Izzy - ”

“I don’t want to see you, Papa!” she screams, tearing away from Blue. Chase stops dead in his tracks. “I want you to go away!”

“Izzy,” says Chase. “If I could just - ”

“I said go away!”

Blue is no longer holding Izzy against his legs.

She is not close to him.

In a single moment - in a single flicker of light, a flash of movement - she is in front of her father.

Chase crashes backwards, gaping. He hears Jackie howl in alarm somewhere behind him and Stacy calls Izzy’s name. Blue dashes forward to scoop her up and hide her before anyone sees, but Izzy whirls on Chase again, and he sees her eyes flash red.

His daughter just glitched.

Anonymous asked:

Woah what the hell just happened! Izzy has magic? Anti is dead, it's not him, don't let fear overwhelm you guys.

“That’s not normal, that was like him, don’t let her - ”

“Jackie, watch it!” snarls Blue, turning on him immediately. “Go sit your ass down. I’ll explain everything in a minute, but you keep your mouth shut, alright?”

Jackie clamps down on his tongue, eyes wild. He grabs Chase’s shirt and drags him to his feet, hauling him back towards the bench. He passes Stacy and Chase meets her eyes, a look of concern flashing between them, but he doesn’t see fear in her face.

She knows what’s going on. This is normal. This is just Izzy.

Okay, he thinks. Then it’s fine.

“Magic,” he mutters. “Like Blue.”

“Not like Blue, why would she transport like him?” asks Jackie, panicked. He grabs JJ’s arm and for a second Chase thinks he’s going to throw him right over his shoulder and carry him home, but he manages to control himself. After a moment, Jackie shudders out a breath and sinks into the grass, holding his head in his hands. “That gave me a start.”

“It makes sense though,” says Henrik quickly, pacing in the grass beside them. “When I was with the magicians I asked them questions about how such things happen. They said there is a genetic component, yes, but for the most part magic is triggered in young children by exposure to other magic. Izzy has the genetic component given that she is a blood relative of Jameson and Marvin.”

“And she would have had plenty of chances to be exposed,” mumbles Chase, glancing back towards his daughter, who is being comforted by both her mother and her uncle.

“It wasn’t just exposure, though,” warns Henrik. “It was like - like scary exposure. Forms of trauma. The need to protect one’s self. While running away from Anti, we must have encountered him at one point.”

“And that would trigger it in her,” signs JJ. “Replicating Anti… to get away from him.”

“Dad, does Izzy gotta go home now?”

Chase turns quickly to see Hunter coming towards him, sort of abandoned in between the two groups. “Oh, honey.” He scoops him up and sits down with him. He tries bouncing him on his leg, but Hunter just scoots forward and lies against his chest, hugging his neck. “I think we better just give her a moment to have some calm-down time.”

Jackie watches from afar as Blue rocks Izzy and pets her hair, his niece crying into his shirt. Henrik sets a hand on his shoulder. “Jackie. We’re okay. Calm breaths.”

Jackie shakes his head, rubbing at his face. How much better Blue looks after only two days away from him.

“You can say hi to your uncles like Mommy said,” offers Chase, pointing at them. “Do you remember your uncles?”

Hunter puts his thumb in his mouth and shrugs, hiding in Dad’s shirt. JJ plucks at the grass and Jackie and Henrik exchange glances, silent.

Anonymous asked:

Wait wait wait wait, what the fuck? Did that really happen? Oh no, I'm already starting to think the worst possible explanations

“I don’t know,” says Chase. “I don’t… remember.”

“She could have just - maybe picked it up genetically?” offers Henrik. “Similar magic?”

“Don’t say that,” mumbles Jackie.

“Anti could have even caught her,” breathes Chase. “What if she had to get away from him? Or she was there when the house was burning? I should have - I should have killed him myself.”

“Papa?” says Hunter.

“Yes, my Hunter.” Chase strokes his hair.

“Is my bad uncle going to come back again?”

“No. No, Hunt. He’s gone forever.”

Hunter nuzzles against his father’s neck.

Anonymous asked:

So Izzy is a young magician? Stacy, did you all have an encounter with Anti while running from him? Izzy could have these particular powers because of that. How long has she been glitching about? Does she have other powers?

“Maybe we should take her home. She can’t be out in public if this is happening.”

“No, she can handle it, Stace,” says Blue, voice steady. “She’s a strong girl, she can handle it.”

Izzy is buried in his chest again, tired now.

“This started around the time Anti was hunting us, yes,” says Stacy, pushing hair from her face. “Marvin was helping her with it as best he could. I didn’t know anything about it except that Marvin was a magician. It was terrifying at first. She would transport miles away and I would have no idea where my daughter had gone, while a real life horror movie monster was chasing us.”

Stacy strokes Izzy’s back. “Marvin taught her the basics, but it was terrible after Chase and Henrik disappeared. She would glitch out of bed during nightmares, glitch up onto something high and not be able to get down, glitch into things and get stuck and terrified until we could help her glitch out again… the Swedish magicians have been our help for years now, I don’t know what we’d do without them.

"There’s no other powers, but she can glitch directly into or through things without knowing what’s on the other side or anything like that. Sometimes, when she does it, she breaks electronics like he did…

"We encountered him just once, the night he burned the house down. Chase and Henrik and Marvin ran to come get us. It wasn’t safe anymore. He had gone after other people we loved - a man Marvin was seeing, a friend of Henrik’s at work… He was there as we drove away, coming after us down the road - glitching out billboards, flashing towards us. We threw the phones out the window and just kept running. Hunter didn’t understand enough, but I think she did. I think she still remembers that whole day. What that fear was like. Chase was burned… passed out in the car from the smoke. She was just there in her carseat while Henrik wrapped him up and everyone was yelling. Left our home behind and just… ran.”

Izzy is quiet in Blue’s arms, held against his chest. She’s heavy but he will not let her go.

“And then she lost her dad, and her uncles, and we were all but alone in a new place, and we didn’t know when or if Anti would find us. She never lost that fear. She’s only nine.”

Anonymous asked:

Does Hunter remember the others or just Chase? I want to say he's just nervous, but given the time line split it's possible he only remembers his dad. Izzy clearly remembers it all though, so?

“I remember mostly kind of,” says Hunter, looking up at his dad. “Cause Uncle JJ was just born, but he’s a grown-up still.”

Chase snorts. “Is that how we put it?”

“Cause it was Halloween and then we were trick or treating and Mum got called and you said ‘don’t come over!’ Cause my bad uncle came with him.”

Chase glances over at Jameson, who is still just picking at the grass.

“You have a good memory for a little one,” says Henrik. He looks down at the child and feels a deep sense of shame to have forgotten his own nephew. He knows it’s not his fault, but that doesn’t really make it better. He kneels down in front of Chase and smiles at Hunter as best he can, even if he’s uncomfortable. “Do you remember me?”

“Uncle Sheep,” says Hunter, squirming shyly against Chase’s chest.

Henrik laughs a bubbling laugh and smiles with his crooked front teeth. “Yes,” he says quietly, patting his leg. “Uncle Sheep.”

“Chase!”

He looks over to see Stacy waving for him. Chase sits up straight and pats Hunter’s head. “Hunt, can you wait here with Uncle Sheep while I go check on your sister?”

“Mh. Okay, Dad. Not for too long, though.”

“Okay, sweetie, there’s my darling.”

Anonymous asked:

Marvin, Jackie is feeling a bit like you're better off after being away from him. Can you give him some reassurances? If you want to, of course, I know things are still tense.

Chase moves towards Izzy and Stacy while Marvin returns to the others, trying to smile despite a synth wave of nerves tightening in his stomach. Henrik and Jackie look up at him as he approaches. JJ plucks grass.

“Um. Hi,” says Marvin.

“Thought you were staying on the bus,” says Jackie numbly.

“Well, I… remembered some things.”

“Oh. Good, then.”

A dry silence. Hunter is following a grasshopper through the grass, crawling towards Jameson for a moment. JJ jumps and gets to his feet, walking towards a nearby tree and sitting down again, turning his back to the others. Marvin only catches his gaze for a second, but it’s long enough for him to see the bandages wrapped around his face from the cut he gave him. His fists curl and uncurl. He stares at the ground.

“I just thought I’d catch you up on Izzy’s power,” says Marvin. “I know it’s a little out of the blue. But magic starts young in kids and - ”

“Henrik explained,” says Jackie.

Henrik flashes a peace sign.

“Oh. Great.”

“Yeah, good. You’re still feeling well, Schneep?”

“Fine, really.”

“Great.”

Hunter has caught the grasshopper, playing with it in his hands. Nobody else does anything.

“Um, Jackie, can we talk over here?” asks Marvin weakly, pointing away from the group.

Jackie flushes. “I think I better stay here and make sure everything’s okay,” he answers, gaze moving away from Marvin and refusing to come back again.

“Jackie - ”

“Blue,” says Jackie tightly. “We’re just going to fight again. So how about we just… don’t, okay?”

Marvin stares at him, blinking. He sighs and shakes his head, feet shifting uncertainly in the grass.

“You can call me Marvin.”

“What?”

“You can call me Marvin,” he repeats, quieter still.

It’s Jackie’s turn to stare at him. Some of the heat leaves his face.

“Oh,” he says again. “Good. Great, that’s… yeah, you just needed some time away, that’s…”

He gets up and stalks over to join JJ by the tree, fists clenched.

“Jackie!”

Anonymous asked:

JJ are you feeling okay? I know you're owed quite a few apologies around this group, so if you're bitter it's understandable.

“Not bitter,” he replies lightly, shooting you a small smile. “No worries. Just not good around people I don’t know. Anymore. I think it’s better if I have some space from the kids. And Stacy. I’m just - just meant to stick with my brothers.”

He pauses, plucking at the grass again.

“Not really sure I want to talk to Blue now, though,” he adds. “Just a quiet day in the park, please. I don’t want to get… put back in that headspace again.”

scunneredzombie asked:

Jackie, what's upset you? Marvin is back with you and they're willing to talk. Wouldn't it be good to talk and fix things between you two?

“Jackie.”

He can hear his twin coming after him, but he doesn’t turn.

“Rose!”

Marvin catches his shoulder, pulling him back to him. “Talk to me.”

Jackie flashes him a look, eyes watering, and turns away again. Marvin squeezes his shoulder, blowing out a breath of air.

“Can’t talk or choosing not to talk?”

Jackie shrugs, mouth trembling a little. Marvin sighs and steers him to the side.

“Let’s go talk, okay? If you can. Come on.”

They sit on a bench closer to the pond in the park. Marvin decides to give Jackie a little time, and, after confirming no strangers are close, he uses a little magic to grow hyacinth in the water of the pond. A group of ducks goes nuts.

“I can’t make you happy,” manages Jackie, wiping at his face. “I’ve never been able to.”

“Jackie, it’s not about that, dammit, it’s not your job to make me happy!”

“Then what am I even here for?” snaps Jackie, turning on him.

“For yourself, Jackie, shit!”

“Yeah, well, that sucks,” he snarls. “I don’t care, I just want to - I just - I can’t make ANY of you happy and I’m just shit at this and I - I - ”

Jackie lets his head fall back against the back of the bench, burying his face in his hands. Marvin lets out a sigh that’s almost a scream of frustration, grabbing his hand and letting his own head fall against Jackie’s shoulder.

“Jackie,” he groans. “I can’t… can’t force you to understand you’re worth more than your ability to be an overprotective, overinvolved older brother. Oh, honey, what am I going to do with you?”

Anonymous asked:

Jackie, starlight boy, burning flame. You are important too. You deserve to be happy just the same as your brothers. Anti's rules don't matter here. You are a separate being from your family. You are a whole person all on your own. You deserve happiness and comfort, and you won't achieve that through working yourself to death and pushing yourself to the brink trying to make everyone happy. You need to listen to Marvin. Be there for yourself for a change. Bring joy to yourself instead of the others, just every now and again. Start slow, but this needs to change.

“What does this have to do with Anti’s rules?” spits Jackie, kneading at his hands. “I’m not like him anymore.”

“Jackie, you still just act like big brother a hundred percent of the time.”

“I am big brother! A hundred percent of the time!”

“Would you listen to everyone for a second?” Marvin demands, taking hold of his shoulder. “You have to look after yourself too. I know it’s only been a couple days, but I just needed some time to get my head straight without worrying about… how I’m not what any of you need me to be, or how embarrassed I feel when you see me weak… I didn’t want to admit how much I need to work on myself because it was scary to face that. And because - well, I hated myself, Jackie.”

Jackie looks up at him, eyebrows drawn back.

“I hated Marvin for not being able to save everyone,” he says. “I wanted to separate myself from all the pain he went through, but I couldn’t. Blue - Blue was the person I became to survive. The truth is I don’t think I was ready to put that person aside because I didn’t feel safe being Marvin yet. I was scared of how much brokenness I would have to admit to, how much I would have to feel, and how much work it’s going to take to start healing. So I just… stayed Blue.”

“How did you stop being scared?” asks Jackie weakly.

“I’m still terrified! Are you joking? It makes my heart race just thinking about it. But I realized that I have to start taking steps or I’ll be stuck as miserable, hurting Blue forever - and what’s worse, I will drive you all away too. Blue only knows how to fight and take care of you all in emergencies. Marvin - he’s his own person too. I have to start being him again. And you, Jackie, Ro - you are everything to us. We all love you. Even if we didn’t, you’d still be worth loving and you’d still deserve some joy for yourself.”

Jackie kicks at the dirt beneath his feet, shaking his head.

“Jackie,” sighs Marvin. “Have you been doing anything for yourself at all these past couple weeks?”

“What do you mean? I got a job, I found us an apartment, I found Chase’s kids, I - ”

“That’s all been for us,” Marvin protests. “All of it.”

“I went to therapy!”

“Once, Jackie! And even then I think you were doing it for us!”

He doesn’t have an answer for that. Digs the toes of his shoes into the ground and closes his eyes.

“Aren’t there things that you want? Aren’t there things that you feel that you need to process? Why have we been avoiding each other, Jackie? Why don’t you spend time with me anymore? Why are you hiding yourself and everything you want from me?”

Anonymous asked:

Good question Marvin. Jackie, what are you avoiding? What are you escaping by being an overinvolved workaholic and avoiding emotions with your brothers? You seem so miserable below the facade of being 'big brother the provider', surely you have emotions you need to talk about. You need something for yourself, you need to care about Jackie too, not just the others. You deserve to look after /you/ too.

“You going to talk to me about it?” asks Marvin.

Jackie stares down at the ground. His fists are clenched against his knees.

“Jackie. What’s the problem? What’s the fear?”

But his brother doesn’t say anything.

Marvin rubs at his head and leans back against the bench, touching Jackie’s gloved hand.

“Break in half,” whispers Jackie.

“What?”

Jackie has gone silent again. Marvin waits a long time, but he doesn’t say anything more. Marvin squeezes his palm and rests his head on his shoulder for a minute, frustrated and worried at the same time. He plants a kiss there against his twin’s shoulder, exhausted.

“I’m sorry we fought. That I ran off like that. That I scared you. I love you.”

Jackie nods rapidly.

Anonymous asked:

I think Jackie means he's trying to avoid a breakdown by working and focusing on you guys because he can't face his own trauma without crashing and burning, breaking in two. Am I close JBM?

Marvin’s brow furrows as he tries to meet Jackie’s eyes, but his brother just turns his head away, shrinking in on himself and clutching his ribs like he has a stomachache. Marvin rubs at his back, setting his head down again.

“My Roser…”

“I don’t want to talk about this, Marv,” protests Jackie.

“Because you’ll get upset?”

Jackie groans, rocking his torso back and forth.

“Well, we don’t have to, okay?” murmurs Marvin, keeping a steady pressure on his back. “But even if you’re scared of what will happen, at some point you have to start dealing with how you feel, Jackie. Love, you’re miserable. I’m sorry I’ve been too self-absorbed to help, I truly am. I think I wanted you to save me from myself, but - ”

“Then I should have!” cries Jackie. “Then I should have been there and I - ”

“Jackie! I’m the only one who can save me from myself. I just need help sometimes… not saving. And I know you would have done what you could if I had reached out and just asked. You have to start dealing with your own shit too. Because I know how it feels to just be holding on to the hope that things will magically get better, but the truth is that even if the rest of us were all suddenly happy, that wouldn’t make you happy too, Jackie. You’re holding on to something that’s not going to happen. And I don’t want to see it all come crashing down around you. Please - find a healthy way to start dealing with this shit. I don’t want to see you miserable anymore. I love you. And Jackie… if you really can’t get through this without breaking in half - then break, Jackie. And let us, for once, pick up some of your pieces.”

Jackie’s eyes are red, his mouth shaking. He pulls on his hair and hides his face between his wrists. “No more talking.”

Anonymous asked:

Might be best to drop it for now Marv. But Jackie, they're right. It's okay to break down sometimes. It's not your responsibility to make things perfect, you have limits and trauma too. Keep that in mind, and keep going go therapy. Your family is here for you.

“Okay,” sighs Marvin. “That’s enough for now. Sorry if I lectured… I know I’m the one who messed things up. Well, neither of us should have acted the way we did. I’m just worried about you.”

“But you’re coming home tonight. Things will be better.”

“Jackie. I think maybe JJ could use a little more space. Besides, I really can’t come home until I’m sure the two of us aren’t going to fight like we did again. That wasn’t fair to ourselves or each other - and especially not to our brothers.”

“What? No, you’re coming home tonight.”

Marvin shakes his head at him. “Jackie. Please don’t start.”

“I want you to come home! Now! Where are you staying?”

“I’m staying with some of the magicians in town. I - ”

“Where?”

“I don’t really think you need to know.”

“Don’t need to know? You’re going to stay with strangers and I won’t even know where? What, you’re scared I’m going to come and embarrass you? You don’t want to see me? You don’t - ”

“Jackie, stop!” Marvin snaps, clapping his hands in front of his face. “We are not shouting at each other anymore, period! You need to start doing things for yourself. You need to get rid of all this pent-up fury and all this fucking pain and just - gah! You’re driving me crazy, love, don’t you know I’m in the same position as you, feeling like I can’t help you heal? You have to start making steps for yourself, Jackie, have to, have to.”

“And then you’ll come home?”

“Yes, I swear. When I feel ready and we’re both working on things, yes. I never want to scream at you like that again, Jackie. Do you understand that?”

“You could come home and not scream,” offers Jackie. “Please.”

Marvin hugs him to his chest, rubbing his shoulder. “I’m going to go check on Stacy. Just think about what I’ve said, and listen to the cameras, okay? You can call Stacy’s phone if you need me. Come on, give me a hug goodbye.”

Jackie pulls him reluctantly against his side, buzzing with frustration. He squeezes Marvin so tight he hears him grunt before he lets him go again.

“My Roser,” says Marvin again, fondly, and Jackie reaches out to run his thumb over the silver rose ring on his finger before he lets his twin walk away again.

Anonymous asked:

I'm so proud of you Marvin. You finally know you are someone worth loving, someone worthy of healing and happiness. Don't let this realization slip away, keep finding yourself and growing past the pain. You deserve it, you deserve to heal.

Marvin smiles weakly, letting a white rose bloom between his fingers, the petals soft against his hand. “Thank you. I’m trying my best. It’s going to be a lot of work. But I don’t want to let this go again. Don’t want to let my fear rule me anymore. I have to get better - for them, but for me, too. I deserve that. Marvin deserves that. Even though he’s made mistakes.”

He steels himself before returning to Stacy and takes a detour towards the tree by the benches.

“Jamie?” he calls quietly.

His little brother looks up with one big, clear blue eye. Marvin breathes deeply and forces himself to look at the bandage around the other side of his face. The pain that he gave to him because he let himself lose control.

“Hey,” he says, trying to smile, without much luck. “I know you’re not really ready to talk and that’s okay. I’ll try you again sometime. But for now, I just wanted to say I’m really sorry… and I lied when I said I didn’t love you.”

Jameson stares up at him. Marvin leans carefully down and offers him the white rose, which JJ accepts with a tiny smile and curling white fingers.

“You are a piece of my heart,” Marvin says quietly. “And I’m sorry I tried to forget that. I will do what I can to make it up to you.”

Jameson smiles shyly up at him. Marvin lets his fingers scratch over his brother’s beard, just for a moment, before rising and turning away.

Anonymous asked:

Jackie you have to start doing things for yourself. You are deserving. You are worthy without even having to try. You matter to your brothers, you matter to Stacy and the kids, you matter to Max. You should do things just for you, like the yo-yo you got. Things that you do just to make yourself happy, with no relation to the others. Try it, please? Just to see how good it helps you feel, how brave and strong it helps you become.

Jackie sighs out, slumping back on the bench. Even thinking about some of the things he wants… it’s so scary. Not just what he would feel and how it could hurt, but the way he could be rejected, let down, left still unhappy even after he tried to get better. It’s not fair. It’s too hard. He wishes the things that made him sad were just enemies he could beat up or faults in the code on his computer screen.

There’s a tongue-click behind him and he looks over his shoulder to see Jamie coming towards him, a flower big as his palm in one hand. He leans over the back of the bench and drapes himself over Jackie’s shoulders, grinning at him from the side. Jackie chuckles, messing up his hair. JJ comes to sit down beside him and rests against his side, petting the rose as he examines it, quiet by the pond as the ducks race in circles and weave through the water.

So happiness, Jackie supposes, is not completely elusive. But he’s going to figure out how to start getting it for himself - and that, if he’s honest, sounds harder than killing a monster.

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delayed-affection · 2 years ago

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Chapter two

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"Look, for nine months, everyone’s tried to get me to believe that my dad's dead. They say I'm in denial. Whatever. Denial's underrated. You should try it sometime. It's highly effective, and it's only denial if you're wrong."

" It doesn't make any sense. My dad is the last guy who would ever get lost a sea. This compass coming back to me, my father's compass, which was passed down for generations, it's a sign. My dad's still alive, and I'm gonna find him."

•

John b slips into the Cameron's yacht, scuba gear in hand. Sarah lies about four feet away from him, that means he has to be quieter than he anticipated.

She puts her hand on her face, "Wheezie, shut up."

He bumps into something making her gasps.

She looks up to find John B and not her sister, "God. You're not Wheezie."

He sighs, "Correct. Yeah. I'm sorry."

“What are you doing?" She asks

"Uh... I'm just dropping off some scuba gear." He answers, "What are- what are you doing... here?"

She makes a face, "It's our boat. It's also the only place with air conditioning. Did you, um... top up the tanks?"

"Uh..." he pauses, "No. No, power's down, so the compressors were off."

"So, you're sneaking onto our boat at 5am with empty tanks?" She questions, "I'll make sure to tell Ward."

He nods setting down the gear, "Okay. Okay. Cool. Cool. Just drop these off."

"Yeah, yeah, the middle of the room is fine." She snarks

"Yeah, this is pretty much what he told me to do." He claims

"Bye." She says

He goes to walk away but stops, "Actually, you know, what- what exactly were you going to tell your dad?"

She shakes her head, "Nothing much. Just that you poached our scuba gear."

He huffs, "Okay, fuck. I borrowed it for a few hours. Okay? And then I brought it back intact and unharmed."

"Minus air." She adds

"Look, please don't tell me. Okay? He'll fire me." He tells her

"So what are you gonna do?" She asks, "Pull a gun on me?"

"Okay, I didn't know JJ would do that." He confesses

"That's convenient to believe." She scoffs, "Maybe you should get better friends."

"Well, maybe you should get a better boyfriend." He argues

She chuckles, "Like one who doesn't poach?"

"Look, please, just don't tell him." He begs

"Relax." She says, "I'm not gonna tell him anything. Your secrets safe with me, John B. Okay, you can leave now."

"Right. Yeah. Uh.. I'll leave- I'll leave that right there." He tells her walking out

Little did they know a little someone was listening to them the entire time.

•

JJ pounds on the door, "DCS! I know you're in there!"

John B rolls over on the couch getting jumped scared by JJ at the window.

JJ laughs, "Gotcha, slick. You should have seen your face. Your face was like..."

Y/n smacks JJ's arm, "Stop being such an ass."

•

"I'm just saying, I don't understand why you don't at least try with Kiara. She clearly likes you. She's like, 'Oh, John B.' She's sketching about you diving then she kissed you." JJ says

JJ turns in his seat, "Y/n, please tell him that Kie likes him."

She shakes her head, "I can't."

"Why not?" He asks

She shrugs, "Cause I don't know."

He narrows his eyes at her, "Yeah right, she tells you everything."

John B doesn't see the big deal, "Look, she kissed me on the cheek. It's not like we were makin' out."

"Low hanging fruit." He tells him, "Don't pretend you don't notice. I see it in your eyes. You're like, 'I kinda like that.' and you start blushing and shit."

"I blush?" He asks

"Yeah." He answers trying to pick up the compass.

John B starts grabbing at him, "Hey, don't-"

"I was just looking at it." He justifies, "I gotta admit, your father's compass in Scooter's boat, that's freaky."

"Yeah. That's why we're going to talk to Ms. Lana, figure this whole thing out." He replies

"I'm sure she would just love to talk to us. It's not like her husband drowned or anything." He quips

•

"You know what this house looks like?" John asks getting out of the car.

"Whoever lives here smokes too much weed." JJ answers

Glass shattering inside the house puts them on edge, they slow down.

A man yells from inside, "Bullshit!"

"Maybe we should come back." Y/n says

"Yeah, it's a little too soon." JJ adds

"No, no, shut up." John B tells them

"Tell me where it is, or I'll fuck you up." The man threatens

Lana gasps for air are loud.

"I'll sink you in the fucking-" the man can barely finish his sentence before he hits slams something.

Lana screams, "You're hurting me!"

The trio crouches down and John B ushers them to get closer.

"Where the fuck is it, you bitch?" The man continues to shout.

They make it to the side of the house, pressing themselves against the wall.

Lana sobs, "I don't know!

"Is it here in this house?" He asks, "Is it somewhere else?"

Lana tries to plead for mercy, "Please! I- I didn't-"

"You still think we should stay?" Y/n whispers

"The compass wasn't in the boat!" The man bellows, "Where is it, Lana?"

"I don't know!" She answers

Paint chips fall into their hair with every crash that comes from the house.

JJ ruffles his hair, "Is that paint?"

John B does the same, "Yes, it's paint."

"Let's get the hell out of here, man." The man orders

"We should just go. He's got smuggler... smuggler written all over him." JJ whispers

"Shut up." John B says moving to the corner of the house.

He falls back to the side when he spots a man walking out of the house, peeking around to watch the other leave as well.

They all watch as the get into a boat.

"Dude, those were the guys that shot at us." JJ points out

"Go back, go back, go back." John B tells them

They all scoot back to their original position, right under the window. They wait for the men to drive off and quickly head for the door.

Lana's sobs fill the beat up house.

"Ms. Lana?" John B calls leading them into the house.

They find her in the floor.

John B flies to her, "Ms Lana? Hey. Hey! You okay?"

"Dude, she's tweaking." JJ comments

Y/n smacks the back of his head, "She's scared you asshole. Do you need a doctor?"

John B looks up to his friends, "Let's call the sheriffs department."

"No cops, please." She cries

JJ reaches for John B, "Mm. That's not good. Come on, dude. Let's just go."

"You shouldn't be here." She tells them

"That's enough for me. Come one." JJ declares

John B waves him off, "Wait, wait. What do you know about these guys?"

"They were looking for something." She croaks

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the compass, "Does it have anything to do with this? Do you know anything about this? This is my father's, and Scooter had it. Why?"

"Scooter didn't have it, okay?" She says, "Don't tell anyone you have it."

"Okay, that's enough." Y/n voices

JJ pulls at John B, "Come on."

"Why?" He questions

"They can't know that you have that!" She exclaims, "You've gotta get out of here!"

"What do you know about the compass?" He asks

JJ pulls him up, "Come on. We gotta go. Let's go."

"Go! Get out!" She shouts

•

Topper and his two friends walk into a yard.

"Jeez, man, this is nuts." Topper marvels

"Agatha's a bitch." boy 1 comments

Boy 2 chuckles, "Damn right, she is."

Topper wipes his face, "I mean, I just- I can't get it out of my head. It's just on repeat. 'Your move, broski'."

"Bro, he had a semiautomatic pointed at your head." Boy 2 tells him

"That's what I'm saying. It's insane." He says

"Safety off." Boy 2 mentions, "That Pogue."

"They're freaking Pogues, man." Boy 1 chimes, "You know you should get a piece."

"What do you mean?" Topper asks

"You gotta fight fire with fire and defend the homestead." He replies

Boy 2 taps Toppers chest, "It better than being caught without one."

"Listen, guys. I-I'm gonna get him back, all right? I'm making a little project of mine." He tells them

Boy 2 looks off into the distance, "Yo, that Sarah."

Sarah is talking to a little girl, "Oh, so you left her in the boat. Okay, can you tell me what she looks like?"

"She has a trunk and blue ears." She answers

"Okay. I'm gonna get her for you." She assures

"Be careful of electricity." The little girl cautions

Sarah stops of the board walk, "Don't worry. I'll be okay."

"What is she doing?" Topper asks

"Watch her fall and make a big drama out of it." Boy 1 mumbles

"Hey, there's 14,000 volts in those wires." A woman yells from the house.

Sarah smiles trying to balance on the fallen tree.

"Hey, Sarah, be careful!" Topper shouts

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me, Sarah, get down now!" Another woman orders

"Rose, come down. I'm an athlete. I got this." She assures

"You're gonna get electrocuted! Get down!" She commands

"She just wants attention." Boy 2 comments

Sarah starts to do a little dance to poke fun at the people that worrying.

"Oh my... No." Rose groans

"Sarah, that's not funny." Topper informs

"When I tell your dad about this, Sarah..."Rose threatens

Boy 1 takes off his sunglasses, "Little fried Sarah."

"Rafe, your sister's crazy, man." Boy 2 states

Sarah gets to a tipped over and inside she spots the girls toy, "I see her!"

She steps into the boat and slips. She screams, causing everyone to freak out. She lays in the boat with her hair a mess.

Topper runs over, "Sarah! Sarah! Sarah!"

She turns her head and waves around a cable. Boy 2 and the little girl find this very amusing. Topper and Rose feel like they just had a heart attack.

"It's disconnected." She laughs, "Absolute sucker. Topper you should see your face."

"Yeah. Okay, yeah, I'm sorry that I care. All right guilty." He stresses

"Congrats, pussy, you're officially her bitch." Rafe tells him, "Officially, did you know that? You're officially her bitch, all right?"

•

Wheezie walks with Topper, "You're worried, like a normal person. I mean, she could have died. She does scary stuff like that all the time. If you say something, it'll be like you're trying to tell her what to do, and you'll end up like Denny."

"Wait, Denny? What are you talking about? What happened with Denny?" He asks

"She cheated on him." She claims, "And the guy before that. You know what that means? You're next. You're the next sucker up. You should have seen her flirting with John B this morning."

This information shocks him, "John- John B? The guy that works on the boat?"

She nods, "Yeah. Yeah. She caught him stealing stuff off the boat. Did she tell anybody? Nope. She was all, 'John B, what are you doing here?' "

Sarah walks up to them, "What's up, Top? Hey, sneezie."

"That's not my name." She replies

She stands in front of Topper, "No way. Hey, been looking all over for you."

She gives a kiss, one he does not return.

Wheezie walks away, "Ugh. God."

•

JJ stands outside the Château, playing out the situation for Kie and Pope, "And we were right outside like this. And all we hear is just, 'Bam!Bam!Bam!' Knocking paint off the wall, G! From the inside. All right? And I'm just looking at him, like-"

He cuts himself off and takes off his hat, "Wait, first off, look at this shit. Look at it."

He runs his hands through his hair, shaking out any remaining paint chips.

Pope scoots away, "The house."

Kie looks at him with disgust, "That's dandruff, disgusting."

Pope pushes his head away, "Okay, thank you."

"Look at all that. All right?" He says, "That's paint. At that point, I was just like... I'm waiting for death."

"Oh, okay, so you saw the guys that shot at us, right?" Pope asks

"Did you get a good description of them?" He questions, "What did they look?"

"Anything. Anything is helpful." Kie adds

"Anything we can bring to a police report?" Pope asks

"Burly." He answers

"Burly?" Pope repeats

He tries to explain, "Yeah. You know, like-"

"That's not very helpful." Kie tells him, "Y/n?"

She leans forward in her seat, "Two white guys, one was taller than the other. I couldn't see much, sorry."

"They were like the type of guy at my dad's garage. I mean, you guys know he made cargo hides for smugglers." JJ chimes

Kie nods, "Yeah. Yes. No, we know."

"I can tell you with full confidence, guys, these boys, these killers... they're square groupers." He assures

Pope puts his head in his hands, "Square groupers, like narco square grouper? Like Pablo Escobar square grouper?"

He nods, "Yeah, man."

"You guys, not everything is a kingpin movie." Kie says

"Okay. So, what does this square grouper look like? Specifically?" Pope asks

"You weren't there, bro!" JJ snaps

"Apparently you don't know what to look for." He argues

JJ taps the side of his head, "Dude! I wasn't taking little mental Polaroids the entire time, man! I was under duress, okay? But I can tell you..."

He pauses, "I can tell you by the way that Ms. Lana was screaming... that these guys were serious, serious hombres, man. It's a heavy vibe right now, okay? Im not liking this very much."

"Why would they want the compass?" Kie asks

"It's a piece of shit. You couldn't pawn it off for five bucks if you wanted to." Pope says

That earns him a light elbow to the side from Y/n.

"No offense, John B. I know it's in your family." He adds

"The office." John B blurts

"What?" Y/n questions

"My dad. My dad's office." He answers walking into the house making everyone follow, "He always kept the office locked because he was worried about his competitors stealing his Royal Merchant research. We used to laugh at him like he was going to find it. But now that's he's gone, I've just kinda... I just left it as he kept it."

He stops in front of the door, the others surrounding him.

"Yeah, for when he gets back." Kie says

He unlocks the door and tries to find what he's looking for. The others walk in not going too far.

"I've slept over here like 600 times, and I've never seen this door opened." Pope confesses

He grabs a board and places it on the table, "Here, look. This is the original owner, right here."

"Robert Q. Routledge. 1880 to 1920." Kie reads, "There's the lucky compass, right there."

"Actually, um... he was shot after he bought it." John B admits, "Then the compass was shipped back to Henry. Henry was killed in a crop dusting accident when he had the compass. After he died the compass was given to Stephen. Stephen had the compass with him when he died in Vietnam."

"Let me guess, he died in action, right?" JJ asks

"Sort of." He answers, "Uh, a-actually, he was killed by a banana trunk. In- in country. Anyways, after that, Stephan passed the compass down to him, my dad."

JJ hums, "Sounds like there's a reoccurring theme here."

Pope agrees, "Yeah, you have a death compass."

"I do not." John B replies

"Well it's not a lucky compass, I can tell you that." Y/n comments

"Get rid of it." JJ insists, "It's cursed, and it's made its way back to you."

John B sighs, "Look, my dad used to talk about the compartment in here. Soldiers used to his secret notes."

He twists off a piece of the compass, shaking it to see if anything comes out.

Kie notices something on the piece he twisted off, "What's that?"

He faces it towards him, "That wasn't there before. This is my dads hand writing."

"How can you know that?" Pope questions

He shows him, "Because he does these weird Rs with the- See it?"

"Can I see it?" JJ asks taking it, "Red- Rout- No, I think that's an A."

Y/n looks at it, "It says Redfield."

"Right." He says

"Okay, well, what's Redfield?" Kie asks

"Besides the most common name in the county." Pope replies

John B looks up to his friends, "Maybe- maybe it's a clue. Maybe it's a clue to where he's hiding."

They all murmur in response.

"A clue? Come on, thats-" Pope pauses receiving glares from the two girls, "But if it is a clue maybe it's an anagram?"

John B shoots up, "Yes. Perfect. Anagram. You need paper. Here you go."

"How can you concentrate with that thing crowing at you?" Pope questions, clearly fed up with the rooster outside.

"JJ loves the rooster." He answers

"I love the rooster." Kie adds

John B writes at a desk letting his friend question this so called anagram.

"What about Ritalin?" JJ suggests

John B sees a car pull up to the house, "Guys. Guys! Somebody's here."

They all stop talking and walk over to him, looking out the window.

"Guys, guys, is that them?" Kie asks, "Is that them."

"This is suboptimal." Pope comments

JJ walks away from the window, "John B, told you. Why does it always-"

John B grabs him, "JJ! Hey, look at me. Where's the gun?"

"Gun? I, uh, I can't-" JJ sputters

"Now you don't have the gun, the one time we need the gun?" Kie chides

John B taps him, "You're backpack."

"It was in my backpack, and then I-" he tries to remember what he did.

John B points out the door, "On the porch."

He agrees, "It's on the porch."

He goes to runs out the room to the porch.

Man 1 swings open the porch door, "John Routledge! Come on out now!"

JJ only makes it down the hallway before he turns back, running into the office and closing the door.

"Where's the gun?" John B asks

"They're on the front porch, guys." He informs

Y/n wraps her arm around the distressed Kie, "We gotta get out of here."

"Get out here!" Man 2 shouts

Man 1 walks into the house, "Routledge! Were you at, boy?"

"Guys, window. Window." Kie tells them

JJ and Pope pull up on the but it doesn't budge.

"Sack this place!" Man 2 orders

"What- what's happening? Why is it taking so long?" Kie worries

"It's painted shut, okay?" JJ snaps

"I'll check the kitchen." Man 1 calls

Kie starts to pace around the office, John B keeps his back against the door, and Y/n rummages through draws for something to help them.

She pulls out a pair of scissors, "Okay, guys. Guys. Here, I got it."

Man 1 absolutely trashes the kitchen, "Where the hell's that compass? Hey, check the back room."

Kie takes the scissors and starts to break the seal.

"Come on, come on, come on." JJ rushes

"I'm going as fast as I can." She says

John b hushes them, "Be quiet."

Man 1 grabs the door knob, trying to get it to open, "You better not be in there!"

He starts to kick at the door making John B bounce. The frame falls off and the door starts to give way. John B and Pope move away from the door.

The man shoots at the lock, the other draws his weapon and meets him at the door. He kicks it in and finds no one.

They look through Mr. Routledge's things.

Man 2 pulls out a map, "Ratter, check out these blueprints of the ship. The mother lode."

They take every piece of information he has collected and piles them into their truck.

John B watches them from the chicken coop, the rooster crowing just as loud as it was earlier.

"Do something, Pope. Shut him up." JJ urges

"What do you want me to do?" He asks

"Pet it or talk to it. I don't know." Kie cries

"Just please get it to shut up." Y/n whispers

Ratter shuts the bed of the truck and takes notices loud crowing. John B backs up from the chicken wire onto the wall.

Ratter draws his weapon slowly creeps toward the coop.

"Do something." Pope urges

JJ grabs the rooster by its neck, he starts to strangle it. Until he unfortunately breaks its neck.

The crowing stops and so does Ratter. John B places a reassuring hand on top of Kies.

"Ratter, the hell are you doing? Let's go." Man 2 shouts

Ratter walks back to the truck, tucking away his gun.

JJ has yet to let go of the lifeless bird, Kie tries to silent her sobs as Pope and Y/n breathe heavily in the corner. John B watches as the two men drive off with his dad's work.

•

Sarah sits on top of the roof of her house, "You're lookin' a little unstable there."

Topper carefully sits next to her, "All right. It's worth it for this view right here."

She points to the water, "Oh, you mean, that?"

"Oh, you too. No, you too." He flirts, "Oh, man. Hey, uh... I heard you had a Pogue kinda sneakin' around here this mornin'."

"Who told you that?" She asks

"Oh, it doesn't matter. Um..." He pauses, "It's just like, you gotta be careful. These Pogues are all just lowlifes, I mean..."

"Don't say that, Topper. You don't know them." She scolds

"Oh, okay. I'm sorry. I'm sorry that, uh... I'm sorry that they put a gun to my head." He chuckles, "You know what that feels like?"

She rolls her eyes, "No, I don't. But to be fair, Topper-"

He cuts her off, "They're dangerous."

"To be fair, you threw the first punch." She argues

"Oh. That's my bad." He says, "That's my- I deserved that."

"I didn't say that." She clarifies

"Shit. You realize I'm just trying to protect you?" He voices

"I know, and I appreciate that. I get it." She assures

"I don't think you're gettin' it. You just gonna go hang out with them?" He questions

"Topper, John B works here." She reminds, "What do you want me to do?"

"John B. Yeah, yeah." He marvels

"What do you expect from me? Hand signals?" She asks

"I don't know. I'm sorry that I just- just care about you." He replies

She shakes her head and gets up to go back inside.

"Yeah, just- you're just gonna walk away." He chides

She climbs into the window, "Yeah, I am. I can't deal with this."

•

Topper walks through the Cameron's yard.

"Hey, Top?" Ward calls, "How'd your family come through? Is the house okay?"

He walks over, "Yeah, we're doing all right, sir. We, you know, had a few leaks and a tree come close to the house, but, yeah, we're doing all right."

"Glad to hear it." He smiles, "Hey, listen, what's this I hear about a, uh... kid with a gun at the point? Did that happen?"

"Yeah. Yes, sir." He answers, "Uh... You know how those Pogues are. You just gotta watch 'em. Hey, sir, sir. Actually, one of the, um- I just want to say , one of these kids you gotta watch for, he works for you."

"What are you talking about?" He asks

"It's- it's that John B kid." He says

"What ab- He's not the one that had the gun, is he?" He questions

"No. No, sir." He assures, "I heard he likes to kinda help himself to gear. So, I'm just-"

Ward interrupts him, "What gear, Topper?"

Topper grunts a chuckle, "I don't want to be tellin' stories, sir. It's just, you got a lot of nice things layin' around. I'd just make sure everything's nailed down. Good to see you, Mr. Cameron."

Topper drops the conversation and walks away, leaving Wards mind racing with thoughts about what John B could have possibly taken from him.

•

"I mean it's obvious, right?" John B asks driving down a dirt road, "A family heirloom. What better place to hide a message? He had to know it was going to get back to me, right?"

Kie nods beside him, "Yeah. It's possible."

Pope dangles the compass in his face, "I could also be possible that you're concocting wild theories to help, you know, deal with your sad feels."

"Bro, you know how I process my sad feels." JJ states

"Dank nugs and the stickiest of ickies." Y/n replies almost as a question

He pats her leg, "You know me so well."

"Guys, I'm not concocting, okay? My dad's trying to give us me a message." John B asserts

"If it helps you believe, John B." Kie soothes

"Look, I- I don't need a therapy sessions, okay? Im not trippin' out." He tells them

"It's okay to trip, bro, but-" JJ comments

But John B sticks to his guns, "Look, my- my dad is missing, okay? Missing. You don't know what it's like to have the person closest to you vanish and then have no idea what happened. Just wake up every morning wondering."

Kie glances at the others, "It's been almost a year."

"Hey, he could've been kidnapped. That's definitely a possibility." JJ suggests

"Yeah, could be in a Soviet sub getting interrogated by the KGB somewhere." Pope chimes

"Absolutely." Y/n agrees, "Or taken by Pirates... and he's helping them find their own gold."

"Look, what do you think the message is?" Kie asks

"Redfield." He replies, "Redfield lighthouse. That's my dad's favorite place."

•

Coming to a stop, the teens file out of the van.

John B points to JJ, "Okay. Here's what's going to happen. Right. You're gonna post up and look out for bogeys, okay."

JJ looks around, "Wait... why me?"

"Because you're not coming." Pope answers

"Why?" He questions

"There are independent and dependent variables. And you're an independent variable. We don't know what you'll do." Pope states

The two of them start to bicker.

"Shut up!" John B, "Listen to me for a second. Just listen. Pope and Y/n, you stand look out with JJ. Okay. If we get split up, we meet back a JJ's house."

Y/n rolls her eyes, "Great. I'm stuck babysitting."

"It's not babysitting if you're having a good time." JJ winks

She looks at John B and Kie, "Just hurry back, please."

Kie gives her a nod and walks off with John B.

"I'm gonna work in my merit scholarship essay, and I'm trying to keep felonies to a minimum." Pope tells them

JJ plays with a happy sack, "All right, would you just shut up already?"

Y/n huffs, "Come on, Pope. Maybe you can read me your essay?"

He smiles walking to the van, "Really?"

•

Kie looks up to the never ending spiral staircase, "Remind me what we're looking for again."

John B follows her gaze, "We'll know it when we see it."

They start trudging up the steps, until they reach the top.

John B knocks the light keepers door, "Nobody home."

A man opens the door slightly and stares at them.

"Um... we're here for the lighthouse." He says

"The lighthouse is closed." He informs going to shuts the door in their face.

"Actually, we... we aren't here about the lighthouse." He reveals, "We're here about the, uh... the Royal Merchant."

With that he opens the door again, "You came to the right place."

He leads them to the outside rail of the house, "I know more... Watch your step here... about the Royal Merchant than anyone else in Kildare County. Now, the Merchant disappeared in the graveyard of the Atlantic in 1829."

"With four hundred million." John B comments

"Correct." He replies, "You're a bit of a Merchanteer yourself, huh?"

He looks to Kie, "Uh... somethin' like that."

"Well, follow me." He says, "I wanna show you somethin'. I've been workin' 30 years up here. The views never changed till two days ago."

He points off to the distance, "The Point's almost gone. One more storm like that, it'll take the lighthouse. I'll go with her. Now, the trick to knowin' where the merchant is... is knowin' whether she was on the north end or the south end of the storm."

He continues, "Now, most experts believe that she was on the south end. Now, she's on the south end, the bend from the hurricane would have pushed her back out to sea. But I don't believe that. I think she was on the north end of the eye."

He chuckles, "Which means the bands would have pushed her..."

"Closer to shore." John B chimes

He nods, "That's right. Now, by my calculations, the Royal Merchant is about ten miles thataway. Come on. Come on."

He leads them back inside, "Right here is where the point used to be. My calculations say the Merchant's right about there."

He points to map on the wall, "And down about a thousand feet."

John B taps the wall, "That's what my dad used to say. Yeah, I- I know this is weird, all right? But do you know anything about this?"

He pulls out the compass and the man's demeanor completely changes.

John B twists off the cap, "Look, it- it says Redfield in the back in my dad's handwriting. And, I don't know why I'm here, but I feel like I'm supposed to be here. Do- do you have anything to give to me, or to..."

The man suddenly walks away.

"Where are you going?" He asks

The man pushes up an opening and climbs up.

John B follows, "Wait a minute. Look... Look, man, I know this is weird. I just thought, hoped, maybe you would know something about this, all right?"

Kie is right behind him, "Sir, you wont believe what he's been through in the past 24 hours. I mean, threatened, shot at, home invaded."

"Home invaded?" He asks

"My rooster was killed. Look, man, my dad wanted me to talk to you, okay? So if there's anything you could think of that would help us, please, just tell us, okay?" He pleads grabbing him, "Look, man, Please!"

"John B." Kie worries

He continues to beg, "If you know anything, just- just-"

The man picks up a walkie, "Wanda, I got two kids on drugs up here at the lighthouse. Call the police."

John B freaks out and grabs his hand, "No, no, no!"

"Let go!" He yells

He smashes his hand into the glass.

"What are you doing?" Kie asks

"I was an accident, okay?" He replies

"John B, we have to go." She tells him

He looks at them man, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

They rush down the flight of stairs and the man picks up the walkie, "Wanda, I'm bleeding. I've been assaulted."

•

Police sirens make the now happy friends rush into van. Kie and John B come out just in time to see them driving off.

"Seriously?" Kie pants, "Shit. This way. This way."

They jump over the short fence and into the tree line. Running until they are in the clear.

"Hey, look. You've- you've got to admit, that was kind of promising." John B says, "I mean, my dad, the Royal Merchant, the ranger, the Royal Merchant. I mean, coincidence? I don't- I don't think so."

"It's his job to know about shipwrecks." She argues

"Okay, but the Royal Merchant?" He asks

"That's like the most famous shipwreck of all time." She answers, "Redfield's one of the most common names in Outer Banks. That could mean anything. Look, as wild goose chases go, this was a really good one."

He stops in his tracks, "Look, I don't know. Maybe we missed something at the lighthouse. We- we should go back. You believe me, right? Right?"

She looks down, "I think there might be some light to moderate concocting going on at this point. Look, uh... I get it. You miss your dad. I know. I just don't understand why he would put a clue on a compass."

"Cause he knew it would come back to me." He replies

She pulls him into a hug, "You're losing it. You gotta pull it together."

She goes to pull away from him but he makes a quick decision and kisses her.

She pulls away, "Uh... What was that?"

"You." He states

He shakes his head, "Shit, I'm- I'm sorry. I- I-"

"It's okay." She claims

"Oh, god, I'm an idiot." He tells himself

"No, it's okay. No, it's okay." She assures

He fumbles with his words, "It's just- I'm- It's because I'm freaking out... about my dad and the DCS stuff. I can't breathe sometimes."

She tries to calm him down, "No. Stop. It's okay. I get- I know. Look, I don't even mind."

He drops his tense shoulders, "What?"

She smiles, "It's the rules, you know? No Pogue on Pogue macking."

He nods, "Yeah. Yeah. Right, rules."

Tires scrape the dirt and man calls out, "Routlegde. I got you, son. Now, why don't you just be chill and not make me chase you."

Kie moves behind him and he slips her the watch.

"Hands were I can see em." He orders

•

"I feel for you, kid. I really do." Sheriff Peterkin says, "I know since they never found your dad, a part of you think he might walk through that door someday. I don't blame you. But goin' on fandangos ain't gonna bring him back. He's been missin' at sea for nine months. Your father's dead."

John B lightly shakes his head, "You don't know that."

"Yeah, I do." She replies, "And as hard as it is, it'd be best for you to accept it and move on. You've been runnin' around gettin' caught up in things, that do not involve you. And now you in a heap of trouble. It's not just foster care we're talkin' about. It's assault, battery, JD time."

She walks around him, "I can still help you out, but we gotta do a little tit for tat. And this time, you gotta tat a whole lot better. I know you've gotten hold of a compass."

He keeps his head low, "I don't know what you're talkin' about."

"I know you took it off the wreck." She informs, "There ain't much that happens in the OBX that I don't hear about eventually."

He finally looks at her, "Okay, what do you want with this compass?"

"It's evidence in an investigation." She responds, "I'm gonna need it, son. Otherwise, I'm charging you."

He stares forward, "I don't know what you're talkin' about. I don't have a compass."

•

Kies dad walks them out of the station, "If you skip out on your bail and I lose my money, I'm gonna hunt you down and skin you."

"Dad!" Kie scolds

"Cut it." He chides

"Thank you, Mr. C." John B chimes

"Don't thank me." He tells him getting into his truck.

Kie and John B stand to the side, she gives him the compass back. Her dad rushing her to get in the car.

When she gets in he scolds her, "I told you. You hang out with trash, you get dirty."

•

John B washes himself off with a hose.

A man calls to him, "Hey, employee of the month, where the hell you been? You takin' some me time? Ward C's lookin' all over for you. You know he don't like to wait."

•

Ward sits across from John B on his yacht, "You dotted your eye?"

"Surf- surfing accident." He claims

"You've had a hard year, John. A very heard year. I feel like I've done what I could to help you. Would you agree with that?" He asks

"Yeah. Yeah. Yes, sir." He answers

"I told you, you could always come to me if you ever need anything. Is that true?" He questions

"Yeah. I mean, you said you'd help me with my DCS case." He replies

Ward sighs, "I need you to answer a question, and I need you to be straight with me. Did you take gear off the Druthers yesterday?"

John b thinks before answering, "Yes, sir, I did. Look, Mr. C, I'm - Im not a thief, okay? It was two dollars' worth of air. You don't want your daughters..."

He cuts him off, "John. It's the principle of the thing. I cannot have employees that I cannot trust. I don't want to do this, John, but you have made me do this. I have to let you go."

•

"Hey, John B." Sarah greets

However, she gets no response, he just brushes past her.

"I'm- I'm sorry, that's it?" She calls, "Not a, "Hey, how you doin'? Or 'Kiss my ass'?"

He walks back to her, " 'Your secret's safe with me'?"

"What secret are-" she pauses, "Oh, that secret."

"I just got fired because of you." He informs, "And I know you can't imagine that, but some people need jobs so that they can eat."

He smacks the bag she was holding onto the floor.

"What the fuck?" She shouts

He seethes, "You are exactly who I thought you were, Sarah Cameron."

•

Now on the streets of figure eight, a black truck pulls up next him.

The passenger rolls down their window and it's the two guys that shot him and raided his home.

The passenger cocks his gun, "Time's up, boy."

John B looks at the gun and takes off, the passenger jumps out of the truck and chases after him.

He runs down the street and into someone's front yard. He goes into the back yard and tries to jump the fence but it falls over sending him onto the ground.

He groans getting up, the man close behind. He grabs the back of his shirt and John B flings him off.

He makes it back into the street, the brakes of the truck squeal in front of him.

He turns onto the connecting street with the truck and man chasing after him.

He jumps onto a metal fence and it sparks, shocking him. He falls the ground still feeling the electricity surging through him.

The man on foot puts his gun away and walks over to him, "You gotta watch those live wires after a storm."

He stands over him, "Now, you're gonna give me what I want."

A police siren whirls and the sheriffs van pulls up, and out comes Peterkin.

The man moves away for from him and walks back to his partner.

•

Peterkin looks at John B, "So, how's it workin' out, kid? It's a whole lot safer if you give it to me than anybody else."

He reaches into his pocket, pulling out the compass and placing it in her hand.

"This thing probably saved your life. Concentrated the shock. Lucky." She tells him

He steps out of the van and watches her drive off.

•

"Maybe my friends were right. I should let it go. Move on. Pull myself together. Pick up the pieces. Stop living in denial. Leave the past behind. And bury the dead."

•

John B sets fire to dads things but sees something on the cork board. He grabs a stick and slides it out, flames still live.

He stomps it out and looks at a name, 'Olivia R. Redfield'.

•

He honks his horn at Pope and JJ, who sit on the side of a building.

"Let's ride." JJ says

"This better be good." Pope chimes

•

Y/n walks out of the wreck, "She said she's not coming!"

"Why not?" Pope asks

"What'd you do to her, John B?" JJ questions

"Shit. Hang on. I'll deal with it." He replies

Y/n heads to the van, stopping at JJ's window, "What's up with him?"

"He fucked up." Jj responds watching his friend.

"What'd he do?" She asks turning to see him walk into the wreck.

JJ sighs, "I have no clue."

•

John B nervously runs his hand through his hair, "Hey, uh, what- what are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" She answers

"Spackling can wait." He assures, "We're- we're about to make history."

She jumps down from her stool, "Are you concocting again?"

He follows her as she walks away, "Yes. Yes, I'm concocting. I'm concocting more than I've ever concocted in my life. Look, I know you're just being a good friend, and- and I know you're not trying to enable me in my delusion, but... And I know your dad doesn't want you to see me, but listen to me, please."

He grabs her shoulders, "Look, you are my best friend, and I need you right now. And I'm sorry about the kiss thing. That was super weird, and I feel awkward about it, and... Listen, I need you and I'm begging. I'm begging you. I am begging you. And I just wanna talk-"

She finally cuts him off, "Oh, my god. Shut up! I get it."

She kisses him on the cheek, "Friends?"

He nods, "Friends. Yeah. Back in the friend zone."

They do a little handshake and head out.

•

"You mind if I just relax on this one?" JJ requests, "It's been a long day, and a lot of weird stuff's gone down. I'm just gonna lay low."

He holds his joint out to Pope and Y/n, "Oh, did you want a hit of this?"

"I keep the signal clear." Pope states

"You know I think you should relax on this one." Y/n tells him

"Yeah?" He questions

She pats his leg, "Yeah, I think you're feeling a little tense right now."

He puts his hand on his chest, "You care about me, that’s so sweet.”

“Look, I- I know I was wrong about the lighthouse, all right? And wrong about everything else going on. But I- I was right about one thing. Okay? My dad was trying to tell me something.” John B voices

•

John B ushers them into the cemetery, “Come on, hey.”

“I’m coming. This place is scary.” Kie tells them, “John B, what are we doing?”

He shushes her, “Shut up. You know how you’re trying to remember a song and you can’t remember who sings it? So, Redfield. This whole time I thought it was a place, right? But it’s not a place. It’s a person.”

He shines his light onto mausoleum that reds ‘Redfield’.

“Voi-effing-là” JJ says

“See, my great great grandmother Olivia Redfield. That was her maiden name.” He informs

They all stand in silence just looking at it, wondering what on earth does John B have planned.

“Help me with the door. Come on.” John B beckons

Pope sighs and goes to help, but to no avail the door doesn’t budge. JJ moves in to try to help but it doesn’t move.

“We didn’t come this far to get this far, all right?” JJ groans, “We got this.”

“Maybe there’s another way in?” Kie theorizes

A snake pokes out from a crack and hisses at them, making them jump back. It slithers to the ground.

Kie laughs nervously, “Or not.”

“That’s a moccasin, all right.” JJ states, “Ye olde Dr. Cottonmouth. Death in tall grass.”

JJ then starts to bark at it as it slithers away.

“JJ, shut up. Shut up!” Y/n scolds

Pope slaps his shoulder, “You’re gonna wake the dead, man.”

“They’re afraid of dogs. Everyone knows that, man.” He argues, “Wait, hold on. If there’s one, there’s probably dozens.”

“Stop. You’re scaring me.” Kie complains

JJ starts to barking again.

“Stop barking at the snakes.” John urges

He tries to justify himself, “Just making sure it’s clear.”

“Shut up. Shut up.” Pope stresses, “John, Look. We’re not gonna get in there, all right? It’s not budging. We should probably just go.”

“I can get through.” Y/n notes

“What?” John B asks, “No, no, no, no. You think you’re going to fight through the hole? That hole?”

Y/n nods “Look, this is about your dad and you deserve to know the truth. And if I die, hey, I’m already at the cemetery.”

She moves in front of the boys, “come on.”

They help clear the way for her and JJ kneels down to help her up.

He cups his hands together, “I’ve seen it in the movies several times. Ready?”

“What are we looking for again?” She asks

“You’ll know when you see it.” John B answers

“Right.” She sighs stuffing her flashlight into her hoodie pocket.

“All right, so put your hands right there.” JJ directs, “Your foot. All right, on three.”

“Be careful.” Kie tells her

She pushes herself up on JJ’s count and drops into the mausoleum.

Pulling out her flashlight, she sweeps the area.

“You alive? You got like, a- a heartbeat and everything?” John b worries

“I’m fine, B.” She assures moving forward, “I need some more light.”

He puts a lantern into the hole, “Yeah, yeah, here. I gotcha.”

“Did you find something?” JJ asks

Her eyes land on something, “Oh, my god.”

52 notes · View notes

specialagentsergio · 3 years ago

Text

rationalizations

rationalizations: a defense mechanism in which one makes up a false but reassuring explanation to explain their behavior and/or feelings to both themselves and others, thus avoiding the reality of why they are really acting or feeling as they do.

summary: You’re the psych evaluation for Spencer. You think he’s full of shit, so you refuse to sign his clearance form until he actually tells the truth.

pairing: spencer reid x f!reader

category: angst (happy ending)

content warnings: spencer’s canonical trauma, flashbacks, mentions of suicide and suicidal ideation, swearing

a/n: i wrote this for @imagining-in-the-margins‘ enemies to lovers event. it’s not my favorite trope, but one of the prompts sparked inspiration for me. i also took a good amount of inspiration from meredith’s various therapy scenes in grey’s anatomy, so if some of it feels familiar, that’s why! i swear i intended to make this cute and funny, but, well… here we are lmao.

word count: 3.6k

masterlist

Spencer throws his bag onto his desk with a frustrated huff. It thumps loudly, startling JJ at her desk across from his. She gives him a sympathetic look regardless. “Still not cleared yet?”

“No!” Forgetting that it’s wheeled, he drops himself into his chair. It skids backwards and he has to scramble to grab something to keep from falling out of it.

“Careful there,” JJ says, trying valiantly to suppress a laugh. “That psychologist's got you really worked up, huh?”

“I don’t know what she wants from me!” he complains. “It’s been nearly a month! Hotch’s ex-wife was murdered by an unsub, but they cleared him. I was only shot in the neck.”

“I mean, that’s still kind of a big deal,” she says. “You could’ve died, from the gunshot, or from the nurse that tried to kill you afterwards.”

“Speaking of that nurse,” he starts, “Garcia is the one who shot him and she’s been a wreck over it. She insisted on going to the guy’s execution. But the therapist cleared her!”

“Penelope’s not in the field,” JJ points out.

He crosses his arms. “Still. This isn’t the first time I’ve been shot. That possibility is part of the job. It’s not like it came out of nowhere and I was completely unprepared for it.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Spence,” she says. “Just keep all of your appointments and I’m sure you’ll be cleared soon.”

He pulls a stack of papers on his desk towards him. Paperwork—one of the things he’s actually allowed to do. “I better be,” he mutters.

---

“And it was really scary, you know?” Spencer wipes at his eyes with a tissue. “Not knowing if I was going to live or die.”

“Mm-hmm.”

He takes a deep breath. “But… it’s over now. The preacher who shot me died in the same shootout. Owen McGregor, the leader of the corrupt deputies, died later that night, in another shootout. And Greg Baylor, the one who posed as a nurse and tried to kill me, was sentenced to death row and he’s gone now, too.”

His psychologist makes a note on the paper in front of her, but doesn’t say anything, so he continues.

“I… I feel better now, just letting that out.” He takes a new tissue and dries his nose. “I feel ready now. Ready to go back to work.”

She nods slowly, considering him. But she doesn’t even look towards her desk where the clearance form sits, frustrating him to no end. After five minutes of silence, he breaks.

“You can’t be serious.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I’ve been coming to these sessions for over a month, and I’m still not cleared to be in the field. I…” He musters up more tears and makes sure his voice wavers during his next words. “I just don’t know what you want? I’ve tried everything.”

“No, you haven’t,” she says plainly.

He blinks in surprise, sending some of the crocodile tears down his cheeks. “What?”

She crosses her legs. “You’re full of shit.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not being honest with me, and I don’t think you’re being honest with yourself either,” she says. “You’re a great actor. I can see how you’ve gotten clearances easily before. But that stops with me.”

Spencer stares at her. “I don’t understand.”

She moves her notebook to the side. “What happened in Texas isn’t the first time your life’s been in danger. Why do you think that is?”

“Wh—that’s part of my job,” he argues, fake crying long since forgotten.

“Not to the extent that you take it. I’ve read your file,” she says. “You take unnecessary risks with regularity.”

The tissues crumple in his hand as he clenches it. “I do not.”

“Let’s go back to the beginning.”

“The beginning of what?”

“Of your career.” Yet she doesn’t take out his file, or look at her notes. She speaks from memory. “2005. The BAU is assisting with a hostage situation. You go into the train, posing as someone who is there to remove a microchip from the unsub, but the first thing you do? You take off your bulletproof vest.”

“Okay, clearly you don’t understand what the situation was,” Spencer cuts in. “Ted Bryar was suffering from a psychotic break. He was somewhat unpredictable, and he told me to take off the vest.”

“And you just listened?”

“He—he had a gun, and was threatening both me and the other passengers with it!” he says. “What was I supposed to do, not listen?”

“Uh, yeah,” she replies. “You easily played into his delusions just a few minutes later to distract him. Why not do that to keep yourself safe?”

“I was twenty-four and was running on adrenaline,” he says defensively. “And it was my first time doing something like that. You can’t expect me to think of everything.”

“You’re right, I can’t,” she agrees. “So let’s jump forward a few years. How about the time you approached a teenager who was wielding an assault rifle with no protection, not even your own firearm?” she challenges.

“You mean Owen Savage? That was a unique situation,” he protests. “I knew I could talk him down.”

“No, you didn’t. You thought you had a good chance, but there’s no way to be one hundred percent sure of that. He was volatile, and on a killing spree,” she counters. “You didn’t know if you’d succeed--”

“I did!” He startles himself by unconsciously raising his voice, but he doesn’t apologize. “I did, because….”

“Because you related to him,” she fills in. “And that’s fine. Having empathy for an unsub doesn’t suggest something’s wrong in and of itself. But you still put yourself, and the rest of your team, in danger, didn’t you?”

He crosses his arms. “I got that lecture from Hotch when it happened, okay?”

“So then why’d you confront an unsub alone a few years later in Miami?” she asks. “You didn’t even tell anyone where you were going. You left your vest behind and just ran off.”

“I was having a head—wait, how do you even know that happened?” he questions. “It wasn’t in the report.”

“Well, first of all, you just confirmed it,” she points out, and he wants to kick himself. “Secondly, I can read between the lines.”

“I was having a headache,” he repeats. “I wasn’t thinking all that clearly. I just knew Julio’s life was in immediate danger, so I went to help him.”

“Uh-huh. More recently,” she says, brushing past his excuse, “You confronted your girlfriend’s stalker without your vest or gun.”

Spencer’s getting angry now. “I was trying to save Maeve. She asked me to leave them behind.”

“And you simply listened. Do you see the pattern I’m drawing here, Dr. Reid?” she asks. “These are just a few of the instances that stand out. Time and time again, you put yourself in unnecessary danger. So I’ll ask you again. Why do you think that is?”

Spencer looks over her—really looks over her, trying to understand what she’s getting at. “Are… are you suggesting that I’m suicidal?” he asks quietly.

She looks him straight in the eye. “You don’t act like someone who wants to be alive.”

It’s like she set off a bomb in his brain. Memories, and the feelings attached to them, emerge—Elle handcuffed to a seat, a teenager with a rifle, a blinding headache, Maeve and blood on the warehouse floor.

“Here’s what I see,” she says. “I see a man who’s been through so, so much. Your mother is mentally ill, your father left--”

His father is packing a suitcase. Spencer doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do or say, so he falls back on what he knows.

“Statistically, children who grow up in two-parent households attain three more years of higher education than children from single-parent households.”

It doesn’t help. “We’re not statistics, Spencer.”

“Your file says she’s staying at an institution, and with your father out of the picture, I can only assume you were the one who had her admitted--”

“Spencer, please don’t do this to me!” she cries as she’s escorted out of the house by Bennington Sanitarium’s transport staff.

“A few years into your work here at the FBI, you were kidnapped, tortured and drugged--”

He’s tired and cold and his whole body aches. Tobias—the real Tobias—looms over him with a syringe.

“Please. I don’t want it,” he pleads of his captor. “I don’t want it, please.”

The needle punctures his skin regardless.

“—you were held hostage by a cult leader--”

Emily sits across from him on the plane with a black eye. “What Cyrus did to me is not your fault.”

He pretends to agree.

“—you went through the death and reappearance of Agent Prentiss--”

He’s tried to make it clear to Jennifer that he wants to be left alone, but she won’t stop trying to talk about it with him, and he’s had enough.

“I came to your house for ten weeks in a row crying over losing a friend, and not once did you have the decency to tell me the truth.”

“—and your girlfriend was shot in front of you.”

“Who’s Thomas Merton? Who is he?” Diane demands, gun pressed against Maeve’s head.

“He’s the one thing you can never take from us,” Maeve replies, and Spencer’s heart drops. Thomas Merton is Maeve’s way of saying goodbye—she’s giving up.

“Wait!” he cries out, but it’s too late.

“This is just some of the more traumatic stuff. And then there’s what happened last month, which is why you’re here. You present a face of not being bothered by all of this, because that’s what you’ve been doing all your life, but I think you are bothered. You really, really are. And you don’t want to admit to anyone just how much it all has affected you. Maybe you don’t even want yourself to know.” Her expression and tone of voice are certain.

Spencer can’t take it anymore. The whirlwind of emotions and memories is overwhelming.

“The number of times you’ve almost died is staggering--”

“Yeah, and sometimes I wish I had!” He glares at her, breathing heavily. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

But she doesn’t seem intimidated or alarmed at all. She leans back in her armchair. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

The response only serves to make him angrier. She questioned him relentlessly and made him admit something he swore in the dark hours of sleepless nights that he’d never think again, never voice, let alone admit to anyone. She forced it out of him, forced. She made him say it against his will.

So why does he feel a sense of relief?

“I…” Tears well up in his eyes—real ones this time. “I’m done,” he chokes out.

He pushes himself off of the couch and out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

---

He storms in Hotch’s office and demands to see a different psychologist. But she was one step ahead of him—a few hours before the appointment, she had emailed Hotch and told him that under no circumstances should Spencer be allowed to get a clearance from someone else.

“And you’re going to believe her?” he cries.

“She’s doing her job, Reid.”

“You barely know her! You’ve known me for a decade!”

“Yes, I have,” Hotch agrees. “And you’ve told me yourself that you’ve fooled psychologists and therapists before. So if this one is saying you’re not ready yet, I’m inclined to believe her.”

Spencer just stares at him, but as usual, Hotch doesn’t blink.

“Unbelievable,” Spencer eventually mutters.

“Take the rest of the day off,” Hotch replies, glancing down at fists Spencer hadn’t realized he was clenching.

“Fine.”

Too agitated to stand in the elevator, he takes the stairs. As he stomps down them, he swears he’ll never go back to her office, even if it means never going into the field again.

A week passes, then two, and he hasn’t seen the psychologist since. But he doesn’t feel any better—he actually feels worse. It’s like her words broke a dam in his mind, in his gut, and feelings of unease and uncertainty won’t pass. It keeps him up at night. Her words echo in his head. “You don’t act like someone who wants to be alive.”

Spencer’s had yet another sleepless night and is struggling not to doze off at his desk despite the coffee he’s drinking. He stands up with the intention of splashing some water from the bathroom sink on his face, but his feet take him somewhere else.

He stares at the nameplate on the door. He swore he’d never go back, yet he feels compelled to knock.

It only takes her a few moments to answer. “Dr. Reid. Can I help you?” she asks.

“I…” He sighs. “Are you busy?”

“No. Come on in.” She steps to the side, opening the door wider to let him pass. He sits down on the couch.

She waits patiently. She doesn’t rush him. She lets him speak first.

He wrings his hands in his lap, staring down at them. “Something you said is bothering me.”

“What was it?”

“About… living,” he admits quietly. “I… I think you might have been right.”

When he gets the courage to glance up at her, he finds a soft smile on her face. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Spencer hadn’t realized he was expecting judgment and disdain until it didn’t happen. His shoulders slump down in relief. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I think I would.”

---

“You’re still thinking about her, aren’t you?”

Spencer looks up from his paperwork, slightly out of it, to find Derek watching him. His coworker had, indeed, caught him thinking about her again. His psychologist. Well, former psychologist. After his second session back with her, she’d handed over a clearance form and a referral to a therapist outside the bureau to see long-term.

“And you better follow up with that,” she’d told him, the corner of her mouth turning up despite her serious tone of voice. “I’ll know if you don’t.”

He’d promised that he would, and had followed through. But despite the progress he was making with the new therapist, he was feeling a little disappointed that he didn’t get to see her anymore. He only saw her in passing, sometimes in the elevator or walking down the hallways of the building. They would exchange hellos, she would ask how he was doing, then give him a little wave as she left. Each time his heart would skip a beat, and he’d feel an urge to follow her to wherever she was going.

Yet he hadn’t quite realized why he seemed to be preoccupied with her until a dream he had a few weeks ago—a dream in which he found himself kissing her. Despite being alone in his bedroom, he’d woken up feeling embarrassed. He promised himself that he would put her out of his mind. Having a crush on his psychologist? It was ridiculous.

But then he saw her in the elevator a few days later and he couldn’t help but analyze her body language. It was open, and she twirled her hair around a finger while she looked at him to ask him how he was. A few other people entered the elevator on the next floor, but her attention remained on him. They were subtle signs, but signs that he recognized nonetheless—signs of attraction. And once he started seeing them, he couldn’t stop.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Spencer tells Derek, picking back up the pen he hadn’t noticed he dropped.

“You can’t pull that on me, kid,” he replies. “It’s your psychologist. You can’t stop thinking about her, can you?”

Spencer sighs. “So what if I can’t?”

“So go ask her out already!” Derek says like it’s obvious.

“You don’t think that’s just a little inappropriate?”

“You’re not seeing her as a client anymore, are you?” he points out. “Go for it, kid. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Spencer takes the advice—as soon as Derek said it, he knew he was right. He would regret not taking a chance on her and the connection he felt. Sure, she’d helped him with therapy, but it went deeper than that. It feels like she knows him.

He leaves the bullpen ten minutes early that evening, hoping to catch her before she leaves for the day. On her doorstep, he feels just as nervous as he did on the day he admitted that she was right, but it’s a different kind of nervous. An excited nervous. He knocks on the door.

She’s surprised when she seems him. He watches as her pupils dilate, and it boosts his confidence. “Dr. Reid. Can I help you?”

“You can. I’d like to talk,” he says.

“Oh. Well, I guess I could do that,” she says. “I thought things were going well with the therapist I referred you to, though.”

He shakes his head. “No, I don’t mean I want an appointment.”

Her eyebrows come together in confusion. “Okay, then, what do you want?”

Spencer doesn’t hesitate. “I want to take you out to dinner.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I really like you, and I think we’re meant to be together,” he replies, voice softening a bit.

She pauses before answering. When she does, her voice is gentle. “Dr. Reid, sometimes a medical professional’s care can start to feel like affection over a period of time, but--”

“No one has ever listened to me like you do,” he interrupts.

“That’s my job,” she points out.

“I’ve seen therapists before, but none of them have been like you,” he counters. “You understand me.”

She sighs. “Well, I’m glad I was a good fit and was able to help you. But that doesn’t mean that I see you as anything more than a client.”

“You’re lying.”

“Excuse me?”

“You do feel something more for me,” he says firmly, but then backtracks a little. “Well, I know you’re attracted to me at least.”

She blinks and shakes her head slightly, take aback. “Dr. Reid, this is not appropriate--”

“Please call me Spencer,” he says, then jumps into his explanation. “See, when we’re attracted to someone, our bodies display involuntary signals, and I’ve seen you do some of them when you’re around me. Whenever we run into each other here, your body will turn a little towards me and you’ll play with your hair. Your attention is almost entirely focused on me. And, when you see me, your pupils dilate. They did it when you opened the door just a few minutes ago. Oh, and I’m attracted to you, by the way,” he adds as he realizes how one-sided he’s been. “I imagine my pupils probably dilate when I see you, too.”

Her mouth opens and closes a few times, like she wants to speak but doesn’t know what to say. She looks flustered, and he wonders if maybe he’s pushed it too far or said too much, but he can’t turn back now. “So, please, let me take you out,” he says quietly. “Just… just give it a chance.”

She bites her lip and looks at the ground. There’s a crease between her eyebrows, which he’s come to learn means she’s thinking. She speaks seriously when she looks back up. “If I go out with you, I can’t treat you anymore. If you ever need another evaluation or session, you’d have to get it from someone else.”

“I know,” he says. “I get along well with the therapist you referred me to, though. And having to get clearance from a different psychologist at the bureau is something I’m willing to give up in favor of getting to know you better.”

She considers him. “You’re serious about this,” she states.

It’s not a question, but he answers it anyways. “I am.”

She tilts her head to the side, eyes unfocusing as she ponders the situation. Eventually, she says, “Let me think about it.”

It’s not exactly the answer he was hoping for, but he’ll take it.

---

It’s only six PM, but Spencer is already exhausted. He unlocks his apartment door, fully intending to collapse onto his bed, but instead receives a pleasant surprise in the form of his girlfriend waiting for him on the couch. He can’t help but smile.

“Sweetie, what are you doing here?” he asks, then adds, “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Penelope told me it was a bit of a rough case,” she replies. “And I missed you.”

She holds out her arms and he takes the invitation, joining her on the couch and laying down between her legs, placing his head on her chest. “I missed you, too.”

Her next words are overly familiar. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Hey, we agreed to no therapy,” he says. “Something about I can’t be your client anymore?”

She huffs. “This isn’t therapy. This is being a good partner.”

Spencer smiles into the fabric of her shirt, snuggling in closer. “I know, I’m just teasing you. I don’t need to talk about the case,” he says, finally answering her original question. “I feel fine now that I’m here with you.”

She lets out a pleased hum and starts running her fingers through his hair. “I ordered take-out for dinner, by the way.”

“Where from?”

“You know where.”

A wide grin spreads across his face. She must have ordered take-out from the restaurant he took her to on their first date. He lifts his head to look her in the eye. “Aren’t you glad you said yes to me all those months ago?”

“Oh, I suppose,” she says with pretend annoyance, rolling her eyes.

Then she kisses him.

Spencer’s never been so happy to be alive.

---------------

tell me what you thought here!

please note that i DO NOT ENDORSE asking out your therapist/former therapist. this is fanfiction. thank you.

general taglist: @calm-and-doctor , @spencerreid9

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid #angst #my fic #i just cannot stop myself from writing about mental health issues and treatment can i

415 notes · View notes

mackenzielovee · 3 years ago

Note

heyy! can you do an angsty one where rafe and the reader are “friends,” for a long time, they’ve been in the same friend group and she’s been with love with him for a while now, and he knows and uses that for his advantage. she always does stuff for him, help him whenever he needed and more, and he treats her pretty badly/rudely in return. their friends (top n kelce,) always try to tell him to stop and more and finally she’s had enough she confronts him and show how much he was actually draining her, and he acts like he doesn’t care but he does realize what he was doing, but meanwhile he’s reflecting on his actions, y/n is getting closer to jj? thanks lol the end is up to you. love u and ur fics <3

a/n: hi love! im so sorry it took me so long to write this. I hope you love it!! it took me forever to finish hahaha but i loved writing it!

Warnings: swearing, underage drinking

my writing

pretty damn lucky - rafe cameron

You sigh as you pull Rafe's fresh sheets from the dryer, breathing in the scent of the detergent mixed with the scent of him. He and the boys had way too much to drink last night, which resulted in Rafe getting sick all over his bed when they got home. You had stripped his sheets immediately and put them in the wash, then made a makeshift bed for Rafe on the floor with all of his blankets.

He had grunted at you in return for all your work, collapsing down on the floor and passing out before you could even say goodnight to him.

You had washed the sheets once again this morning when you woke up, then stuck them in the dryer and waited on them.

Topper groans on the couch as you pass him on your way to Rafe's room. You stop and chuckle, watching as he hesitantly opens his eyes.

"Oh, fuck," Topper grumbles as he sits up, clutching his head.

"I think you guys brought the bar home with you."

He glances up, eyes meeting yours, and groans. You laugh and step over to him, taking a seat on the couch beside him.

"Can I get you anything?" you ask him.

"Yeah, a time machine. Don't let me drink so much," he whines, collapsing back down on the couch. You stand, letting out a laugh.

"Water and aspirin. Got it."

You walk up the stairs and stop in front of Rafe's bedroom door, knocking on it lightly before you peak your head in. He's still laying on the floor, but you can't tell if he's awake or not. You stop inside, warm sheets in hand, and close the door behind you. He grunts at the noise, but it's not enough to make him open his eyes.

"Hey," you say to him, "I washed your sheets. How are you feeling?"

Rafe moves on the floor, opening his eyes only enough to see you, then rolls back to his initial spot and closes his eyes again.

"Just put the sheets back on, I want my bed."

You sigh and nod your head, stepping over to his bed to start making it. You watch him as you work, laying on the floor, mouth parted slightly and eyebrows furrowed as he tries to focus on not throwing up again.

"Okay," you whisper once his bed is made, "Come on. I'll help you."

Rafe allows you to wrap your arms around his torso, helping him stand from off the floor. He leans all his weight on you as you two stumble over to his bed, then he collapses onto it. You cover him with his comforter and then fix his hair so it's not sitting in his eyes anymore. He doesn't say anything at your movements.

"I'll get you some water and some medicine. Be back in a minute," you whisper to him. He just nods as best he can.

You hurry back down the stairs, rushing past Topper and into the kitchen. You grab two water bottles out of the fridge and then rifle through the cabinets until you find a bottle of aspirin. As you walk from the kitchen to Topper on the couch, you stop in your tracks.

"Topper," you say, your voice authoritative, "Where is Kelce?"

Topper laughs, which is how you know it's bad. You hadn't noticed that they were one friend light when they stumbled in last night, mostly because you had been too worried about Rafe to be concerned with where Topper and Kelce crashed.

"He fell down outside last night. I'm pretty sure we just left him there."

You sigh loudly, handing him a bottle of water and aspirin as you swear and rush to the front door. As you approach, you can already see him, face up in the Cameron's new flower bed that Rose had worked so hard to make perfect. You open the door and rush to Kelce, annoyed with the boys for not even telling you he was out here.

"Kelce?" you question, stirring him awake, "You alive in there?"

Kelce sits up, as if you'd awakened him from a dream, and glances around. He looks at you and then down to the clothes he's in, and you watch as his eyes widen.

"Those motherfuckers did not leave me out here," he gasps.

"Kelce, I'm so sorry. I had no idea you were out here-"

"I'm going to kill them - ow."

He tries to stand up, but the throbbing of his head makes him fall back down into the dirt again. You grab onto his arm and try to help him up, noting how you do most of the work. When he's finally upright, you brush off the dirt from his back and then lead him inside.

"Shit," he mutters, "My stomach. I'm gonna need to eat."

"I'm on it," you tell him, leading him into the living room and placing him on the couch next to Topper.

"Hey, man," Topper greets, "Rose sure will be happy you observed the flowers so...closely."

"Shut the fuck up, Top," Kelce snaps, reaching over and punching Topper in the chest. He groans at his head and sits back again, making you laugh.

"All right," you declare, picking up the aspirin and water bottle for Rafe, "Eggs? Toast? Bacon? Sound good?"

Kelce nods his head and Topper looks at you, already looking better with the water and medicine in his system.

"Hey, thank you, Y/N. For always taking care of us," Topper smiles at you.

"Yeah," Kelce agrees, "I'd still be lying in a bush outside if it weren't for you. Thank you."

You smile at them and shake your head, "Of course, boys. Back in a minute. Kelce, don't kill Top. Please."

Kelce grunts, telling you he's still debating if he will or not. You laugh and then rush back up the stairs, hoping Rafe is still alive up there. You knock softly on his door when you reach it, not wanting to just bust in on him.

"Rafe?" you say when you walk in, seeing him laying in the exact same position he had been when you left him.

"What took you so long?" he grumbles.

"I'm sorry," you say, sitting down beside him on his bed, "You guys left Kelce outside and-"

"Do you have the aspirin or what?"

You sigh and nod, handing him the pill bottle and a bottle of water. He sits up, hair messy and eyes only half open, and pours three pills into his hand. You stare at him, observing his sharp jaw line and his soft skin, and you can't help but wonder what it would be like to be able to feel him. Touch him. Love on him the way you've been dreaming about since the day you met him.

"Do you want me to make you something to eat?"

Rafe swallows the pills, then brings his eyes up to meet yours, "That breakfast place I love. Why don't you go pick us all up something? Card's in my wallet."

He lays back down, which is his way of excusing you from the room. You just nod your head and grab his card out of his wallet.

"And move the seat back in my truck when you get back. I always hit my head when I get in after you."

"All right," you say quietly, wishing he'd at least say a 'please' or 'thank you'.

You take orders from Topper and Kelce, then hurry out to Rafe's truck. You have to move the seat way up in order to drive the truck, and you make a mental note to move it back when you get back to the house.

You pull up to the restaurant and climb out of the truck, fumbling with the keys and your purse and Rafe's card, too wrapped up in yourself to notice the blonde boy standing about five feet from you.

"Damn, I didn't expect someone as pretty as you to hop out of that truck," JJ smirks at you, watching your eyes shoot up to him.

You smile, "Hi, JJ."

"How are you?" he asks, cheeky look on his face.

You set your hands on your hips, keys and card tucked between your fingers, as you observe what you're wearing for the first time. You'd snuck one of Rafe's Kildare Island shirts from his dresser last night and had on jean shorts underneath.

"Y'know," you shrug, "You like this place, too?"

"Ah, little pretentious, but the food's acceptable," he teases, "You eating alone?"

"No. Just picking up food for Rafe and his friends."

"What, are you his assistant or something? Tell Cameron to pick up his own food," JJ huffs.

He'd never tell you, not wanting to upset you, but he's hated watching you run around the island as Rafe's bitch since you met him. JJ's been dying to hang out with you, even asked you a few times, but you always say no because you're on some sort of mission for Rafe.

"It's just a breakfast order," you reply, starting to inch toward the restaurant.

"Just a breakfast order," he shrugs, "Just getting him a beer every time he asks, just following him around like a lost puppy, just-"

"Okay," you stop him, "I'm a big girl, JJ. I can take care of myself."

You turn and start to walk away from him, trying to brush off his 'lost puppy' remark. He groans loudly, which is enough to earn your attention back.

"Prove it," he yells out, making you turn, "Tonight. There's a thing down at the beach. Meet me."

You start to shake your head, but he steps toward you and stops you. He runs a hand through his blonde hair, messing it up even more than it already is.

"JJ-"

"Come on, Y/N. Take the Kook chains off for one night. Please. Rafe can do his own dishes and get his own drinks."

You sigh, glancing down at your feet before back up to him, "Maybe."

"Ah- you know what? That's better than a no. I'll take it."

You nod at him, trying your best not to smile too wide, then point to the building. You start to back off, but you keep your eyes fixed on the blonde boy.

"What time? You know, if I decide to come."

JJ smiles wider than he had the entire conversation, "Seven."

You smile back at him, then turn and walk away before you can get even more wrapped up in this boy.

"What the hell took you so long?" Rafe questions as you walk through the door with several bags filled with food.

"Sorry," you sigh at him, "Got caught up."

Kelce and Topper stand up and step to you, taking the bags from you. You thank them quietly, watching as Rafe rolls his eyes and stands from his place on the couch.

"Yeah, never mind the fact that I'm starving to death," he mutters.

"Rafe, come on, man," Topper smacks Rafe on the chest, trying to get him to chill out.

"Yeah, quit being a dick," Kelce tells him.

Topper starts to unload the food from the bags while Kelce leans down and gives you a friendly kiss on the cheek. You smile gently, glancing up to see Rafe watching with his jaw clenched. You try to put distance in between you, but Rafe doesn't seem to care about your efforts.

"Thanks for running to get it, Y/N," Topper smiles to you.

"You're welcome."

"Did you put my seat back, at least?" Rafe asks you, swiping his car keys from the counter where you set them.

"Yes, of course," you reply.

"Of course," he mutters, "You never do."

"Rafe," Kelce says authoritatively, holding his hands out to his sides as if to ask what the hell he's doing.

"I'll fix you a plate," you tell Rafe, setting a hand on Kelce's arm as if to thank him.

Rafe exhales loudly, then steps away and back into the living room. Kelce rolls his eyes at Rafe, giving you a pat on the shoulder. You make Rafe a plate, a little bit of everything, then follow Topper into the living room to take it to him.

"Quit being an asshole to her, man," Topper mumbles to Rafe, slapping him on the back of his head.

"Don't fucking hit me," Rafe growls at Topper.

"Here you go," you hand Rafe a plate. He takes it from you without a word or a glance, inspecting the food you've given him.

"Where's your plate, love?" Topper asks you as Kelce sits down beside him, "I'll make you one. Sit down."

"No," you say quickly, earning the attention of all three boys, "I'm not staying. I gotta get home, I kinda have plans later,"

"What plans?" Rafe asks, judgment present in his voice.

The boys watch the look on your face and Topper and Kelce immediately erupt into fits of laughs and hollers.

"Boy plans, huh?" Kelce smiles at you before he shoves bacon into his mouth.

Your face flushes as you stand in front of them, glancing at Rafe to see his reaction. His jaw is clenched tightly and he's stopping eating all together.

"Who's the lucky guy, Y/N?" Topper snickers.

"It's not a big deal, you guys."

"Why am I jealous right now?" Kelce teases you. You look over at him and roll your eyes, hiding your smile from him.

"What plans?" Rafe repeats himself, raising his voice. Your eyes shoot over to him, watching his expression.

"Um, I'm going down to this thing at the beach," you say, looking down at the floor. Rafe sets his plate down on the coffee table in front of him, not wanting his food anymore.

"Are we invited?" Rafe asks, already knowing the answer. He just wants to make you say it.

"I- it's not my thing," you stutter, "I'm just meeting some people."

"Who?" Topper asks through his food.

"Uh, JJ Maybank and his friends-"

Rafe scoffs, interrupting you, "You're ditching us to hang out with Pogues?"

"I'm not ditching you, Rafe," you frown.

"Funny, that's the way it looks."

"It's just a few drinks on the beach, why are you getting so bent out of shape?" you question, watching as Topper and Kelce squirm, growing more uncomfortable.

"Bent out of shape? " he repeats, voice as if he doesn't believe you just said that, "You're the one driving across the island for shitty ass beer-"

"It's not like I was asking your opinion on my plans-"

"No, no, you were just informing us that you have plans to fuck JJ Maybank, understood."

"Rafe-" you start, but stop when Kelce sits up straight in his chair and speaks.

"What the fuck, Rafe?" Kelce stares at his best friend, "Why are you so mean to Y/N all the time? She doesn't have to hang out with us every day, and honestly, I wouldn't if you treated me the way you treat her."

"Oh, fuck off, Kelce, you don't know shit," Rafe waves him off.

Topper glances at you, then over to Rafe and speaks up as well, "He's right, Rafe. You're an asshole to her. And not just today, but a lot lately."

Rafe sits back on the couch and crosses his arms in front of his chest, rolling his eyes.

"You two don't know anything," he huffs, "Y/N and I are fine."

"Actually," you say, earning Rafe's complete attention, "I don't think we are."

He stands up now, stepping over to you and grabbing onto your wrist, "Let's discuss this in private."

You glance at the boys, trying to offer them a silent 'thank you for trying', then allow Rafe to pull you into the guest room down the hall. He slams the door once you two are inside, then runs his hand through his hair before he speaks.

"What the fuck are you doing, embarrassing me in front of the two of them?" he scoffs.

Your mouth falls open at how that is his main concern after you just told him you have doubts that the two of you are okay. Your heart sinks, watching as he paces the room. You watch the way his jaw is clenched and how his eyes are frantic as he tries to figure out how to fix things with the boys.

"I'm sorry," you say quietly.

Rafe seems to not hear you, "Jesus, now the two of them are gonna be up my ass about you for the rest of the day."

"Rafe-"

"And what the hell is up with you partying with JJ Maybank? Do you not realize how that could look, you hanging out with him?"

"Oh, my God!" you yell, not being able to take any more of his bullshit, "I don't give a shit, Rafe! I mean, seriously. I spent my entire night last night and my entire morning taking care of your ass. Because I care about you. And now, I say I want to do something for myself, and you act like I'm being selfish? Are you kidding me?"

"Oh, please," Rafe shakes his head, "You're always taking care of us, don't act like you're all noble."

"I'm not trying to be noble. I'm trying to tell you how I feel-"

"Well, I didn't fucking ask, all right?" he yells.

You frown and step back from him as if his words struck you across the face. He reaches up and pinches the bridge of his nose, trying his best to control his frustration.

"Rafe," you choke out, feeling your emotions as they rise up, "I care about you so much. But, I can't keep walking on eggshells around you. I have done everything you've asked me to do, I've been a good friend to you and I-"

"You what?" he growls at you, stepping forward and grabbing your shoulders.

"I love you, you asshole," you whisper, watching the way his eyes soften at your words, "I love you. But I'm drained. I'm exhausted. And I'm sick of being treated like some bitch who just follows you around and hopes you'll throw her a bone."

Rafe stares at you for a moment, and for the first time in a long time, you genuinely cannot tell what he's thinking. After a few seconds, he releases your shoulders and lightly shoves you away from him.

"You should leave," he says, staring at the floor.

"Really?"

"Yeah, you gotta get ready for your big date night, right?"

You laugh sarcastically at his comment, feeling stupid to have expected him to say anything different than that. He sets his hands on his hips and sighs, not bothering to look up at you. You lick your lips and take a deep breath, debating whether or not to stay and fight with him. For him.

"Fuck you, Rafe," you say.

His shoulders fall but he doesn't look up, so you turn and walk out of the room. Topper and Kelce are standing right outside the door, shocked when you suddenly emerge. You roll your eyes at them, not surprised they had been listening. They don't bother trying to stop you, because honestly, they'd leave Rafe, too.

You rush out of the house and slam the door behind you. Topper usually drives you home, but you don't bother to go back inside and ask. You can walk, it's not far.

As much as you love Rafe, as much as you'd kill to be with him, you can't condone the way he's been treating you. You know that you deserve better, just as Topper and Kelce have been reminding him. Better is exactly what you plan to have.

The beach isn't terribly busy when you arrive. You know by the time the sun sets completely, it will be packed. You spot JJ's blonde hair towering above almost everyone on the beach, watching as he laughs with his friends and tips a red cup against his lips. You walk over to him before allowing yourself to hesitate and think about leaving again.

Your fight with Rafe had completely drained your energy, and if you didn't feel like getting completely drunk to forget about it, you'd leave. JJ spies you as you approach and grins widely, starting over to you.

"No fucking way," he smiles, "Can't believe you showed, Mrs. Cameron!"

"Ha ha," you grumble, shaking your head and trying to hide a smile.

"How'd you escape from the prison that is Kook land?"

You roll your eyes, reaching up and taking the cup from his hand. You gulp it down before he can even object, and when you look up at him again, he's staring at you with his mouth wide open.

"Okay. Got it. Drinking, no talking," he reaches down and takes your hand, leading you over to the keg.

"Lots of drinking," you mutter, watching as JJ pretends he didn't hear you.

JJ grabs two beers from the guy handing them out and hands one to you, returning his hand to yours. You start to walk back over to JJ's friends, but he pulls on your hand to keep you where he wants you.

"What are you doing? Don't you want to hang out with your friends?" you ask him.

He shakes his head, "No, I'd rather figure out what's going on with you."

You sigh and take another long sip of your beer, avoiding his eyes on purpose. Although you and JJ hadn't hung out a lot, he still seems to be able to tell that you're bothered.

"It's not a big deal," you say.

"If it's bothering you, it is," JJ insists. His eyes are wide as he looks at you, and you can't help but notice how he hasn't taken one sip of his beer.

"JJ-"

"It's Rafe, I can tell. Did he hurt you?"

"No," you furrow your eyebrows, unsure of why he would even ask that. JJ just nods his head, tightening his grip around your hand.

"All right, then what?"

You give him a small smile, grateful that he's pushing so hard to try and figure out what's bothering you. You've never really had anyone do that before.

"We just got into an argument. But, it's fine-"

"Y/N-"

"I came here to have fun with you. Please don't make me spend the whole night talking about Rafe."

His eyes soften as he stares down at you. You watch as he takes a deep breath, then licks his lips and nods his head. You give him a small smile, watching as he shamelessly return it.

"You're right," he speaks after a minute, "Who needs that asshole, anyway?"

You nod, although you're hesitant to talk shit about Rafe like that, even after everything. JJ squeezes your hand once again, then tugs you toward his friends.

"Come on, let's party."

JJ pumps you full of beers, at your request, and laughs every time you attempt to get him to dance with you. His friends all watch as JJ finally gives into you, standing up as you tug on his hand and allowing you to lead him upright.

You can feel the alcohol rushing through your body as JJ spins you around in the sand, laughing at how much you're loving it. His friends cheer the two of you on, and by the time the song ends, you're completely exhausted. You collapse into JJ's chest and he wraps a strong arm around you, holding you up.

"I didn't realize I'd had so much," you tell him, slurring your words a bit against his chest.

"That's all right," he laughs lightly, "I'll take care of you."

JJ leads you back over to the log the two of you had been sitting on and helps you sit down, smiling when you lean your head down on his shoulder.

"You're nice to me," you tell him.

JJ laughs at your drunken state, pressing his cup to his lips once more. Say what you will about JJ Maybank, but never call him a lightweight.

"You deserve to be treated nicely," he fires back.

"You really believe that?" you ask him, not noticing your eyes fluttering closed against him.

"Of course, Y/N," he whispers, moving his face so his lips graze against the top of your head, "You know, there's a lot more out there than just Rafe Cameron."

"You don't know him like I do," you say quietly.

"You're right," he scoffs, "Nobody else would defend him."

"I'm serious, JJ. He's sweet and caring and protective-"

"And rude, and unkind-"

"JJ," you sigh, "I mean it. Underneath all the bullshit, he's a really great guy."

JJ's silent for a second, then you feel his body tense slightly under you. His friends are all in their own little world, to notice, but JJ isn't.

"Well, that really great guy just showed up to the party."

Your eyes shoot open and your head comes off of JJ's chest as you glance around, trying to steady your vision as you look around to see what he's talking about. When your eyes meet Rafe's, he looks upset. He's watching you and JJ like the thought of you two together actually, physically breaks his heart in half.

Topper and Kelce stand behind him, pushing Rafe forward to you. You stand up, with the help of JJ's hand steadying you, which you immediately let go of when you stand up straight. You tears your eyes away from Rafe long enough to glance back at JJ, asking him silently if it's okay if you go to him.

"Go on," he gives you a sad smile, "Tonight was fun. But, you know, I'm not the type of guy to chase after some other guy's girl."

"JJ-"

"Go, Y/N. You love him. I can tell."

You start to object, but close your mouth when you realize you have no defense. He's right, you know he is. You give JJ a little smile, then turn back to Rafe. The asshole, your asshole, who looks ready to put your heart back together again.

He starts to you and you to him, but he covers way more ground than you given that he's stone cold sober. He can tell you're having trouble standing, so he reaches out and offers his arm as soon as he's within range.

"Hey," he says quietly.

You wrap your cold hands around his arm, steadying yourself and absorbing his warmth. You take a deep breath, inhaling his familiar, heart wrenching scent and letting it fill your lungs.

"What are you doing here?" you question him.

"I- uh, I need to talk to you."

"Why? So you can yell at me and then tell me to leave again?" you spit before you can even think about it.

Rafe clenches his jaw and moves his eyes from yours, glancing around the beach as he considers what the best thing to say is in response.

"I'm sorry," you mumble.

"It's fine," he shakes his head, speaking too fast to actually mean it, "I deserve it. I was an asshole. I came here to apologize."

You nod your head, doing your best to keep your eyes on his and not trailing all down his body. He's wearing the snapback you love on him, and he has on the shirt the two of you bought together at the mall on a trip.

"You may," you tease him, giving him a small smile and hoping to get one in return. You get it, thankfully.

"I'm really sorry, Y/N. I didn't mean to ever make you feel second rate. You have been so good to me and I know I don't deserve it-"

"It's okay," you stop him, reaching one hand up to stroke his cheek. His skin, his soft skin under yours feels like heaven to touch. You know the alcohol is the only reason you're not putting up a larger fight.

"I wasn't finished," he smiles widely.

"Well, what can I say? I'm a sucker for that hat," you tease.

His grin only widens as he stares down at you, pulling you into a hug before he can even think of it. His arms wrapped tightly around you make your heart rate speed up to a dangerous level.

"You promise we're okay? Maybe we should talk again when you're sobered up-"

"I'm fine," you lie.

Rafe reaches up and cups your face in his hands, staring down at you intently. You stare back, unable to break away from his gorgeous blue eyes.

"Good, because I've got something to tell you."

Rafe watches as your lips part, wanting to question him but unable to find the right words. He smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before he continues.

"I love you, too," he whispers.

You blink rapidly at him, trying to figure out if he really just said those words to you. You shake your head and squirm out of his grasp, taking a deep breath as you look at him.

"You mean that?" you ask him.

"Yeah," he nods, swallowing nervously, "It took me half the day to realize it, but the thought of you down here with JJ literally made me want to kill him. And I'm sorry that I haven't realized it sooner. I was just scared of my feelings, I guess, and I just thought if I pushed you away-"

"You don't have to explain," you stop him, "I just can't believe you feel the same way about me."

"Who wouldn't? Topper informed me today that I happen to be the luckiest guy to walk the face of the earth because I'm loved by you. And I guess, I don't know, it made me recognize my feelings."

You smile, wrapping your arms around him and hugging him. He hugs you back without thinking twice, pulling you close and breathing you in. After a second, you pull away, and feel him tilt your chin up to meet his eyes.

"I don't know, I'm feeling pretty damn lucky right now," you whisper.

Before either of you know it, he places his lips gently on yours. His hands move themselves to your cheeks once again, pulling you closer to him. You both can hear Topper and Kelce hooting and hollering from yards away, which makes you laugh against Rafe's lips.

"I regret bringing them," he says against your lips, laughing along with you.

"You should," you agree, standing on your tip-toes and kissing him one more time.

"Can I take you home, now? Please?" he asks, voice impatient.

You bite your lip and nod, allowing him to give you one last kiss before he brings a hand down to yours, wrapping his fingers through it. He turns you toward the boys, the oh-so happy boys, and leads you away.

Away from the beer. Away from JJ. Toward your future, together.

Tags: @hollandsour @flowerkidlxrry @kookkyra @pogueslandia @sarahwasfound @fuzzyhumanpersontrash @rafecameronn @rafeswh0ree @outerbankies @morganwilliams

*if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist at any time, please send me an ask!

#drew starkey #rafe fic #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #outerbanks rafe #rafe #rafe x you #rafe imagine #obx rafe #rafe fanfiction #rafe x y/n #rafe x reader

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laurensprentiss · 3 years ago

Text

Games We Play [Hotch x Reader]

Chapter 8:

A/N: I cannot believe this is what I am offering you guys after all this time, please forgive me. Bossy but calculating Hotch, childish banter, tension, Hotch is actually nice sometimes, allusions to their past and first ever meeting (keep your eyes open) and a big plot reveal at the end. Hotch actually does something nice for reader. Twice.

Warnings: Swearing, possessive, kinda bossy Hotch. Tension, mentions of alcohol. Pretty tame chapter in comparison to previous ones.

------

The night Hotch leaves to go back to New York, you call JJ and tear her a new one. You end up having to come clean about having never passed on the dinner invitation for Hotch in the first place and she makes a passing comment about how she’d never expected Hotch to fly out all the way to DC for one dinner.

She’s right. The only logical explanation? He’s mentally unstable.

The next morning in the car, JJ lectures him the entire way to the Hamptons where they’re meeting another prospective donor. “Do you know what people would say if they found out you were wasting jet fuel and using a private plane to make pleasure trips to DC?” She asks, scribbling notes.

“You’ve met her mother, I wouldn’t exactly call it a pleasure trip.”

“The point still stands. No more spur of the moment flights to DC to harass my best friend. Now focus up, read the file Garcia put together on the donor.”

Over the week and a half he’s been in New York, he’s been put in front of millionaires, even a few billionaires, old money tycoons and new money Silicon Valley types, in an attempt to drum up enough money for his coming campaign. He feels like a call girl, and JJ is his pimp, telling him to smile sweetly, and weave in a mention about hunting here, or golf there.

He needs to tread lightly if what he thinks is true. He’s still waiting on confirmation from Garcia but he can feel it. Your repeated mentions of bribery in the hearings four years ago have lit a fire under him about his integrity. If bribery charges come out now, his campaign is fucked before he’s even had a chance to begin.

Might as well put his all into his work while he can.

In the meantime, he sits in a home style Italian diner in The Hamptons, complete with red and white checkered tablecloths and a wood burning oven in the back. Donors usually prefer to do meetings in five star restaurants and swanky hotels, but JJ mentioned something about this donor being a down-to-earth old money guy who used his family fortune to branch out with his own publishing and media conglomerate.

JJ swats his arm and gets up, muttering. “Look alive, Hotch. He’s here.”

He follows her lead, standing too, for a short older man with olive skin, a full head of grey hair and a grey goatee. He wears a button down and a blazer, a pair of slacks and a large ring on his ring finger. JJ immediately goes to greet him, circling around their table to shake his hand but he swats her away, breaking into a smile and taking her into his arms instead.

“Jennifer! It’s good to see you again!” His voice is seasoned, a little raspy, like too many years of smoking cigars have taken their toll.

“It’s good to see you, too! How’s Joy?” She leads him to Hotch.

“Busy making me lose all my hair by chasing after serial killers.” He mutters.

JJ chuckles, gesturing between the two men. “David Rossi, this is Senator Aaron Hotchner. Aaron Hotchner, this is David Rossi.”

Hotch takes Rossi’s outstretched hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Rossi.”

“Ah please. Call me Dave.” He shakes his head, taking a seat. JJ and Hotch follow suit, albeit tentatively. “Now, I’ve heard a lot of good things about you from Jennifer. I understand you’re planning on running for office.”

“That’s right, Sir.” When the older man gives him a warning look, he corrects himself quickly, holding up his hands. “Sorry- Dave.”

The older man smiles, twisting the ring on his finger. “Look, I’ve never been one for small talk and fanciful meetings, and I think you’re a man who appreciates that so I’ll cut to the chase.” JJ shifts next to Hotch, sitting straighter. “My family and I have made a lot of money and I want to finally put it to good use. I’ve seen your work, I like you, and I think we align pretty well politically - although you’re a little more fiscally liberal than I care to be.”

“That’s great-“

The older man holds out his finger. “-However. There are a few things that give me pause. I am first and foremost a family man, and quite frankly, the image you’ve managed to cultivate for yourself is making me doubtful. I don’t know that I can put my full backing into a candidate who doesn’t prioritise the same things I do. I don’t want to put my life’s work and money into somebody America doesn’t trust.”

JJ and Hotch share a knowing look and she’s mindful that she doesn’t have time right now to tear him a new one or tell him I told you so. But she wants to. Desperately. So she does it with her eyes. Reminds him of the years she spent telling him to think and act proactively and not stick it inside anything with a pulse.

“America likes a married man - a family man. Someone easily digestible. And Aaron, that’s just not you right now.”

Shit. Motherfucking shit. His past, or rather, his body count has a way of catching up to him and in the interests of remaining as detached as possible after Haley’s death, he’s ruined his future.

“What if we could change your mind?” Hotch asks, his calculating precision connecting the dots.

“How’s that?” Dave asks.

“Well, the donor retreat is tomorrow night. I’m confident I can prove to you just how much our values align by then.” JJ watches Hotch wearily out of the corner of her eye, he’s far too secure making promises he can’t keep. How the hell does he suppose he’s going to pull this off?

Dave nods, considering it for a long while. The way he examines Hotch and JJ makes them squirm, he’s a little unpredictable and their dreams of the White House rest on convincing him that Hotch isn’t a massive slut.

“Fine. You have until tomorrow night.” Dave confirms, shaking their hands. “Prove me wrong.”

———

That night, Hotch returns to his hotel room with the beginnings of a plan in mind. He completes his nightly ritual as best as he can, and he finishes off the night by checking your camera feed on his laptop. He’s done it everyday since he had the cameras installed and every night, something new manages to annoy him.

The first night away, he learns that you’re essentially an insomniac, staying up until 3, sometimes 4am with cereal as your only real sustenance. The second and third nights, he comes to realise that you have a real issue with fire, diagnoses you as a pyromaniac because he watches you burn through an entire packet of matches just for entertainment.

It’s mildly unsettling.

On the fourth and fifth, he realises that you watch too much mind-numbing TV, and because he sprang for the audio-visual system, he can hear you quote Modern Family until 4 in the morning.

‘Hey, Claire. What’s up?’

‘My fever, you orange jackass.’

“Fuckin’ A,” he mutters, watching you tonight. You’re talking to yourself, muttering about something or other as you work. That goddamn sitcom still plays in the background and with your mood tonight, he’s dreading asking you what he needs to ask you - especially after the dinner he hijacked last night.

He doesn’t want to hear you bitch and whine and he’s certainly not in the mood to be talked back to. He dials your number and waits for you to answer, sits up straight when you look at your phone, roll your eyes and decline his call.

“The fuck?” He dials it again, watches you repeat your previous actions, only this time you flip your phone off. Desperate, he uses his burner and dials your number only for you to pick up this time and his blood boils.

“Hello?”

“What? I gotta use a private number to get you to pick up? I’m getting a little tired of you declining my calls.”

“Jesus. I don’t have time for this .” You roll your eyes. “Goodbye-”

“-Don’t you dare hang up on me.” He mutters.

Your eyes narrow. “Watch your tone. Or what?”

“I’m telling you. You don’t want to hang up on me.” His voice has a tone of finality to it, but you’re too wired to care about whatever he has going on. Mai ko

“Whatever. I gotta go.” He watches you turn your phone off and throw it onto the couch, flipping him off one more time for good measure.

He tries to keep the anger at bay and not overreact but you claw at his skin from the inside out. He calls Anderson who picks up on the fourth ring, his voice croaky.

“Sir?”

“Pull the car around and get the jet ready.”

“Sir, again? It’s midnight.”

“Do it. We’re flying to DC. Within the hour, Anderson.”

“Yes, Sir.” He sighs defeatedly.

———

At 2am, you’re three cups of coffee in, heading fast for a crash. You're a little shaky and your heartbeat’s quick, falling deeper into a spiral of existential dread about your future at work. The mountain of research for the case that Lucas pity-shared with you makes no fucking sense either. You hear a knock at the door and think it’s your TV at first, but the knock is louder and more persistent the second time.

This is a safe complex in a safe neighbourhood, so you make the mistake of not bothering to check the peephole. You only realise the gravity of your mistake when it’s too late, because when you open the door, you’re met with Hotch in a pair of grey sweatpants and a sweatshirt, a dark look swirling in his eyes.

You’ve done it before, you know it doesn’t work, but you do it anyway. You close the door in his face, that doesn’t really close properly anyway because he manages to keep it open with his foot. He steps inside and slams the door behind him, his breathing ragged with anger.

“Get out, Hotch. It’s 2am, what the fuck are you even doing here?”

He stalks forward slowly, making you back up. “I told you not to hang up on me.”

What the hell?

“You’re crazy. You flew from New York to DC again all because I hung up on you? Are you insane? That’s twice you’ve flown here and back in the last 24 hours!” Your backwards steps increase in pace as he steps forward until you have no more room left, your back bumping into the wall.

He crowds you, caging you in against the wall. “Not insane. Just determined. And now, because you refuse to do as you’re told, you’ve lost the opportunity to pack your own stuff.”

“Pack? Pack what, what are you talking about?”

“You’re coming to New York with me. Tonight. Now.”

“The hell I am.” You laugh humorlessly.

He seems to find that amusing because his lips curl into a twisted sort of smile. “Yes, you are, sweetheart. You can either come willingly, or I can take you myself, but you’re coming. And that’s all there is to it.”

You laugh dryly. “You can’t force me. I’m pretty sure that’s kidnapping.”

His eyes flash with intensity and he leans in, his chest brushing against yours, his nose barely touching yours. He smells of toothpaste and a woody cologne that makes your eyes flutter closed. “And I’m pretty sure I can - force you - that is. Last chance. Are you coming willingly or not?”

You squirm and try to push him off you, but he’s too strong. “Not.” You reply.

He inhales sharply. “Fine. Then I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” And suddenly your world turns upside down. Literally. He bends to wrap an arm under your ass, and lifts you up, throwing you over his shoulder. You pull and scratch at his sweatshirt, neck, hair, anything you can get your hands on. “Put me down! Put me fucking down, Hotch. I swear to God, I’ll kill you, put me down!”

He swats your ass, sending a zing up your spine as he carries you out of your apartment building and drops you unceremoniously into the back of a town car.

You pull harshly on the door handle a few times but it’s locked. “Let me out, Hotch. I’m not kidding.” The car quickly begins to move, making its way through the city streets but you’re still stuck on leaving. “Why are we moving? Let me out!” Your anger simmers under your skin as you slam against the car windows and you fight the urge to not sock him in the jaw.

“We’re moving because we’re going to New York. I have a donor I need to impress and you’re going to help me do that.”

You laugh humorlessly. “How am I going to do that? I have no ID, how the hell am I supposed to get on a plane?”

He scrunches his face. “You don’t need an ID on a private flight.”

You huff. “You’re not very good at asking for favours, are you? You usually have to do this thing called ‘ask’ and ‘not be a complete asshole’ and kidnapping is never on the docket.” He rolls his eyes, checking his phone. “How do you suppose I’m going to impress this donor of yours? In my pyjamas and fluffy socks? I don’t even have any shoes for goodness sake.”

“We’ll get you some new clothes tomorrow, it’s being taken care of. Here.” He takes his wallet out of his pocket and slides a piece of black plastic across the car seat. “You can use that.”

That’s hot.

But still not okay. There’s no point arguing with him any further because you’re not going to get anywhere with him, you know that.

“What do I need to do?” You ask reluctantly.

“Network, small talk. Big me up, make me seem like a good candidate. Maybe smile at me, do what a loving girlfriend would do.” He purposely says girlfriend so as to not bombard you with his plans for tomorrow. He knows you may just throw yourself out of a moving vehicle if he tells you his real plan.

The desire to make his life a little more difficult doesn’t pass you by, though. The need to tell him what you think of him far outweighs any semblance of maturity or the concept of rising above you may have. “Difficult to do when I don’t have a lower opinion of anybody than I do of you.”

“Trust me, the feeling is mutual. Lucky for me, I don’t care what you think. I thought we’d already established this.”

Asshole. But if there’s one thing you can get out of a reluctant favour, it’s leverage. And you need all the leverage you can get right now. You look at him out of the corner of your eye and speak evenly. “Fine. But if I’m doing this for you, you have to do something for me.”

“I don’t have to do anything.”

You smile sweetly. “And I don’t have to impress this donor. In fact, I could meet with him, tell him what I really think about you, and nuke your career like you did mine, your dreams of the White House and any future you hope to have.”

He licks his front teeth agitatedly and drops his phone in his lap. “Fine. What?”

“I want you to look over the preliminary bill. It’s-“

“-Done.”

“-Really?” You ask, taken aback. It’s not like him to agree to something so quickly, not least of all when it’s you that’s asking.

“Yes.” He sighs. “I don’t care much to hear you plead your case and whinge and whine for the next two hours. So yes, I’ll look your handiwork over. I’ll be sure to bring a pen though, no doubt I’ll have to gut it and rework it.”

“Fuck you, Hotch.”

“Oh yeah? You change your mind?” He drawls suggestively. “Dinner was nice last night. Good to finally put a face to the people responsible for such a high-maintenance, preppy princess.”

“And who’s responsible for making you a cold and entitled, miserable ass?”

“My childhood nanny, probably. She raised me.” He says, matter-of-factly. A small laugh escapes you but you wonder if that’s true. You wonder if he was raised by housekeepers and nannies and au pairs his entire life and suddenly you’re a little more grateful for your own parents.

Despite the overwhelming pressure and the constant nagging and the not-so-subtle criticism, you have no doubt that your parents love you and care for your well-being. At least they were conscientious enough not to dump you and your sister on outside help during your childhood. Which is not asking a lot of a parent, but from the circles you and Hotch hail from, it’s par for the course for strangers to raise your children, and you can place a safe bet that Hotch falls into that category.

You ponder on that until you arrive at the airfield. His assistant - who you learn is called Anderson - corrals staff and makes phone calls arranging for tomorrow’s retreat. Hotch steps out of the car and opens your door for you, waiting for you to exit but you cross your arms over your body and remain seated. He’s too distracted by his phone to notice at first, but when he does, he slides it into his pocket and grits his teeth angrily.

“What are you waiting for? Hustle.”

“The floor’s wet. And I’m cold.” You reply petulantly.

“That’s my problem, why?”

“Because you kidnapped me and didn’t even give me a chance to put any shoes on! Or a coat!” You kick his shin. “I’m not putting my bare feet on wet pavement, that’s disgusting.” Your face contorts and he honest to God could think it’s one of the funniest things he’s seen if he wasn’t raging.

“They’re not bare. You’re wearing socks.”

“Fuck off, Hotch.”

He checks his watch, it’s almost 3am. “Oh my fucking- you’re so annoying.” He grumbles under his breath along with a string of incoherent sentences. He pulls his sweatshirt over his head, leaving him in only a tight fitting T-shirt that hugs his shoulders. “Fine. Hold your arms out.”

You do as you’re told and he slips the sweatshirt on your body with a surprising amount of gentleness, caring enough to untuck your hair from inside the neckline. He then slides his arms around your waist, yours wrapping around his neck as he lifts you out of the car and into the cold night air.

You go limp against him on purpose, weighing yourself down, making it hard for him to carry you but he maneuvers you roughly, putting a large hand on the backs of each of your thighs so your legs wrap around his hips. And while your skin still prickles with annoyance and frustration, the position you’re in doesn’t feel so unnatural.

“Remember, I’m owed my monthly allowance on the 25th.” You remind him happily.

“I’m starting to think you’re more trouble than you’re worth.” He grumbles, squeezing your thigh.

“Yeah? What are you going to do? Off me?” You tease.

———

Finding yourself without any decent clothes this morning, you’re relegated to one of Hotch’s too-large shirts and a pair of not-so-great jeans you’d had Anderson go out and buy as soon as it was light out. Thankfully, you’re able to roll the sleeves of his shirt up and tuck one bottom side into your jeans, and you force yourself into thinking it looks somewhat classy-chic.

It does. Kind of.

Hotch had bumped into you in the hallway as you were leaving your room, taken off guard by your outfit, mumbling something under his breath and walking away irritated. Truthfully, the sight of you in his shirt had complicated things, conflicted him, because while frustration swells in his chest at the mere mention of you, he can’t seem to shake the hold you have on him.

And it extends further than just four years ago. You don’t seem to remember. But he hasn’t forgotten.

Meanwhile, in the hotel lobby, you fish around the back pocket of your jeans and flash JJ the black Amex Hotch had tossed to you yesterday.

You return to the hotel at around five, new clothes, shoes, purses and accessories in tow and begin getting ready for the dinner that begins at 8. You still don’t know much about the donor, only that he’s fairly traditional and could possibly be the big fish Hotch’s campaign needs. You feel a little deflated at prospect of being a man’s accessory tonight, to make him seem like a great candidate in front of a who’s who of rich Manhattanites.

You’d pursued a career so you could avoid having to do that. If you wanted to be a trophy wife, you could have stayed with Christopher and endured the passionless, banal life your mother would have chosen for you.

You sigh, giving yourself a once over in the mirror. JJ has knocked on your door three times already and if you don’t get a move on, you’re afraid Hotch might actually carry you down to the car. It's not like you’d put it past him.

It’s dark when you finally get outside and you find Hotch leaning against the towncar, distracted by his phone like he usually is, but the sight of him makes your steps falter for a brief moment.

You have to remind yourself to keep your brain in check, to not get sidetracked by his looks. He stands tonight in a grey, perfectly tailored suit, a light shirt and a light grey tie to match - he’s the epitome of old school class and you hate him for it. JJ throws you a teasing look before she gets in her own car, the kind she’d give you in law school whenever a crush walked by. Except this isn’t a crush. This is hate.

“Do you mind moving so I can get in? Or are you planning on making us late?” You nag.

“Like you’re not the one who’s been primping and priming since 5pm…” He trails off when he averts his gaze from his phone and looks at you, really looks at you. The asshole has a way of burning people with his eyes and it’s certainly making your cheeks heat up.

“Move.” You swat him with your purse like a bug, moving him away from the door. He opens it for you, and watches you get in from behind, blood rushing to his extremities at your exposed legs. He falls in line, getting in next to you and you’re off. You weave your way through city traffic, the night lights twinkling as you pass them by.

He clears his throat, pulling you from your thoughts. “Listen, I need you to wear this.” He holds a royal blue velvet box in his hands that looks suspiciously like it could have a ring inside.

Anxiety creeps up your neck against the prospect of being laid bare in your vulnerability at this moment. “We said three months, right?”

“Three months. Now. What difference does it make? It’s going to happen eventually, now do as you’re told.”

“Do as I’m told?” You repeat. “The difference is I’m not ready yet.” You say defensively. “My parents barely even managed to digest the fact that I was ‘dating’ you, I can’t show up to dinner next week, engaged!”

“Look, I’ll help you break the news to your parents, alright? We’ll tell them after the dinner, whatever you want, just wear this tonight.

“You’re out of your mind if you think you’re coming to dinner next week.”

“Boo hoo. Look, the donor we’re meeting - he’s expecting a fiancée or a wife - not a girlfriend.” You stare him down in a desperate attempt to get him to back off but he appears unguarded himself at this moment. “There’s no other way.”

“This better be fucking worth it.” You mutter. “Hand it over.” You outstretch your hand to take the box but he takes yours in his and turns it over. “What are you doing?” You ask, immediately snatching your hand back.

“Putting the ring on you.” He reaches for your hand again but you pull away. “What are you doing?”

You frown. “Just give it here, I’ll do it.“

“Quiet.” He ignores you like you’re a child, yanking you forward by your hand. His touch is rough at first, but it softens only slightly, his thumb absently rubbing the back of your hand. He slides the ring on your finger, rotating it so the emerald cut diamond sits properly in the centre.

You don’t know whether it’s the apparent vulnerability etched on his face or the city lights, but you swear he could almost pass as human in this brief moment. Then, he tosses your hand back into your lap when he’s done, and suddenly he’s back to himself again. He tucks the box back in his inside pocket and reaches for his phone again, taking a few calls while you ponder your immediate future.

You absentmindedly play with the ring on your finger. Fighting with Hotch had allowed you to repress the reality that you were really going to marry this guy, but the heavy rock on your finger pulls you back into the harsh truth. Even if he were to win the election, this alliance may ruin any chance you have at dating anybody after him. After all, Ex Wife of President-slash-Presidential Candidate Hotchner is a lot of baggage to carry.

There’s no chance of spotting stars in the middle of New York City but you note the twinkling lights of high rises make it appear as though the city smog has cleared momentarily.

You should be so lucky.

Next to you, Hotch dives into his work to distract himself from you. He’d spent the better part of today with a knot in his stomach at the prospect of giving you the ring, memories of Haley clawing their way to the surface. Memories that he clings to with equal vigour as well to prevent him from becoming too attached to any one person.

The last time he’d proposed to a woman, it had been different.

You eventually happen upon the private country club in the Hamptons, located on the scenic beachfront, right next to the glittering water. The wrought iron gates are opened by two security guards, leading you to a winding, lit driveway. Wait staff appear to be floating with trays in their hands, tight-lipped women in cocktail dresses hold their champagne flutes a little too tightly, and the men look stuffy.

JJ dismounts the car in front of you first with Anderson trailing behind her, then you and Hotch. You inhale deeply as the valet opens your door and you’re met by the brisk seaside air which puts goosebumps on your skin.

“Alright, guys. Are we ready? Best feet forward, this donor is the key to securing this run.” JJ reminds you over the faint classical music in the background. She looks pointedly at your left hand, her gaze lingering wildly on the emerald cut diamond that wasn’t there when you set off.

The gravel pathway to the entrance makes for a difficult walk and in your frustration, and admittedly, hard-headedness you slap Hotch’s arm away when he offers it to you.

“Remind me never to offer you my help out of the goodness of my heart again.” He scowls.

“Unlikely it’s from the goodness of your heart. That thing’s like coal.” If you’re to be his accessory tonight, you definitely don’t need his goddamn help, you’ll walk on your own. You’re made to regret your decision quickly when your Jimmy Choos get stuck in a piece of stubborn pathway and you fall into Hotch’s side, grabbing his strong forearm for balance.

When you’re sufficiently balanced, he snatches his arm away again, throwing you off kilter on purpose, snorting under his breath. Anderson joins in until JJ glares at them. “Give her your arm or lose it, Hotch. Now is not the time.” She hisses.

He rolls his eyes and you reluctantly wrap your forearm and hands around his strong bicep, using him for balance up the pathway. “Who taught you to walk, smartass? You’re like a freshly birthed calf.” He murmurs out of JJ’s earshot as you enter the main foyer.

You grab a glass of champagne, leaning into him. He still had a decent amount of height on you, despite your choice in shoes which means his cologne wafts into your nose when you turn your head. “It’s because I’m wearing heels, Senator. Heels… which could puncture your leg nicely if you don’t stop pissing me off.”

“Jesus, has anyone ever told you, you might have anger issues?” He rolls his eyes but swallows thickly at your use of his title.

He takes stock of the room, and drags you along with him, wherever he goes, pulling you this way and that until JJ and Hotch both go stiff as a board suddenly, their gazes fixated to their left.

You follow their line of sight and double take, your eyes bulging. “Uncle Dave?!” You break into a smile, letting go of Hotch who watches you, stunned. “Hi!”

He breaks out into a face splitting smile, holding out his hands. “Cara mia! Oh, come here, let me look at you!” Dave grabs both sides of your face, planting a kiss on either cheek and taking you into his arms like he did when you were a kid. “What are you doing here, your parents didn’t mention you were in New York.” His eyes fall to your left hand and he gasps, immediately grasping it in his hand, holding it out to catch the light. “And what is this?”

You laugh uncomfortably, looking between Dave and Hotch. You’re about to utter these words for the first time ever and you’d always assumed you’d be happier than you are right now.

“I’m… well. I guess I’m engaged!” You tell him. “Uncle Dave, this is Aaron, Aaron, this is my uncle Dave. Our families go way back.”

The two men’s eyes widen in recognition as Hotch steps forward to shake Dave’s hand. “Yeah. We met yesterday.” He pulls you in, placing his hand on your back, the warm, light pressure making you twitch. You’re still outing the pieces together when Hotch interrupts your thoughts. “Honey, Dave is the donor I was telling you about, I had no idea you guys even knew each other.” He says.

This is a done deal.

Dave nods slowly. “Huh, you really weren’t kidding when you said you could change my mind - this is definitely a step in the right direction.” He looks at JJ. “I can see now why you were so confident.”

“Small world.” You muse. “How’s Krystal?”

“Ah, you know what she’s like at these things, she’s probably outside watching the waves come in. Why don’t you go on and find her while we talk business?”

There it is again. The infantilization. The implication that you don’t know how business and politics work, and God will these high-powered men ever change? Ivy League education, community service, drive, ambition but you’re still the woman who has to make nice with the other women while the men talk shop. You smile though, like you’ve always been taught to do and JJ decides to join you when Hotch gives her a look of confidence.

The two men walk away while you grab a champagne flute and make the rounds, greeting guests with a kiss, accepting their congratulations on your ‘engagement’. By the end of the night, you’re exhausted and sitting outside beneath the massive pergola watching the waves roll in.

Hotch has since managed to persuade Dave that he’s the right candidate for him to back, and with the added bonus of you on board, he’s more than happy to oblige. He’s making his way outside to join you and JJ to tell you the happy news when he stops in his tracks, just shy of the doors to listen to you.

“It’s so frustrating, you know? Like I made one mistake, four years ago and everyone in that office treats me like I’m not to be trusted with anything ever again.”

“I’m sorry, hon.” JJ reassures you, rubbing your shoulders.

“I was sure I had it in the bag. I know I should let it go but I still can’t believe he paid Lahey off. And now look at me, I’m still stuck in the same place, it’s like fucking deja-vu, only now, I’m engaged to the man.” You laugh humorlessly, repeating the words slower this time as if to digest them properly. “I’m engaged… to the man that ruined everything I worked so hard to build… by bribing a chairwoman.”

There it is again. The bribery allegation that he knows nothing about but is becoming an increasingly bigger source of alarm.

He hears you sigh. “You know, I went to the office yesterday and Gideon sent me straight home, threw the paper in my face with that picture of me and Hotch on it - said office gossip was distracting people and I should go home.”

Suddenly your half-day makes a lot more sense to him.

The barest of guilt tugs at his insides, he couldn’t care less about you he reaffirms, but he’s still a believer in karma. Plus he figures he owes you one for tonight. That’s the only reason. Not the fact that it’s becoming clear to him that your hatred for him may be justified, but it isn’t entirely clear to him why he hates you.

Is it the way your first ever meeting ended? Even years before the judiciary hearings? The meeting that he remembers clearly but you evidently don’t?

Nah.

Stepping away, he pulls out his phone, and dials the direct line to DC Attorney General Racine who promised Hotch any favour he wanted after he’d pulled some strings to get him out of a bind a few years ago. He figures he could have probably used Racine as the prize cow of all favours, cashing it in when he was in really dire straits, but what the hell. Who doesn’t pull strings for someone they hate?

Right?

As soon as he’s done giving Racine specific directions - who reassures him that his problem will be taken care of by Monday - Garcia’s name flashes up on screen. He exhales in relief. “Gimme something good, Garcia.”

“Well, that’s just it, Sir. I have an answer for your question but I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

“What is it?” He sighs, rubbing his temple.

“You were right. Four instalments of $20,000 each were made to Chairwoman Lahey around four years ago - during the hearings. They were rerouted through multiple proxies and offshore accounts but I managed to track them down.”

His ears ring and he feels as though the ground has shifted from beneath his feet. You were right and he’s astute enough to put the pieces together himself but he asks anyway. “From?”

“Phillip Hotchner.” She replies.

He paid her off. The son of a bitch paid her off.

———

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