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the-record · 4 years ago

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I’m here

Prompts 11 and 17: Tucking their hands beneath the other person’s shirt, just to watch them break the kiss and gasp in surprise at the sensation of cold/warm hands on their skin/ Morning kisses that are exchanged before either person opens their eyes, kissing blindly until their lips meet in a blissful encounter.

!!!SEASON 6 AND 7 SPOILERS!!!

A/N: Someone asked for 11 or 17 and yk what the hell, why not both. Anyways, kinda cried writing this. Emily makes me soft.

TW: Mentions of death, funeral

A little angsty, but fluff too bc yes.

“She never made it off the table.” Your ears rang at the words. You felt someone come to your side as you fell to your knees. You faintly heard someone call your name. You felt like someone had ripped your heart out of your chest. A deafening scream filled the waiting room you had been in.

“Y/N.” You looked up at Aaron through your tears. Your vision blurry.

“She’s gone, Aaron. She’s gone and we didn’t get to get married. We didn’t get to have kids. We were house shopping. We-we bought my dress.” You broke into sobs as you fell onto him. He caught you as your crying filled the room.

He didn’t know what to say. I mean, what could you say to someone whose fiance was murdered. So he didn’t say anything. He just held you as you cried. He lost the love of his life, he knew how you felt. He knows the hopelessness and despair. He guided you to a seat so he could talk with JJ. Rossi’s arms came around you as you cried. You cried and cried until no more tears came.

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You sat on the couch waiting for her to come home from the case. She had been gone a week and you desperately missed her. Emily had texted you the moment they had gotten on the jet. There was a click of the door and you jumped off the couch to greet her. Almost tripping over Sergio, you ran to greet your girlfriend. She dropped her bag as you jumped into her arms.

“Hey, sweet girl.” You let out a sigh.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too. But I’m home now.” You nodded but didn’t let go. Emily wrapped her arms around you even tighter. “I’m here.” A tear rolled down your cheek. “I’m here.” You pulled back and she swiped the tear off your face. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. I’m here now love.” You nodded.

“Garcia snitched on you.” She rolled her eyes and smiled. “Don’t you dare go anywhere without back up again. Got it?” She nodded and kissed you deeply. Your arms wrapped around her neck while hers trailed down your back and onto your hips. She moved her hand up your shirt and on your back making you gasp and pull away. “Jesus Emily!” She chuckled and laughed.

“What?”

“Your hands are like an ice block!” She smiled and kissed you again.

“I love you.” You were taken back. “I know we’ve only been together a couple months but I love you Y/N. I love you so much and I don’t wanna lose you. I’m sorry if I spru-” You cut her off with a kiss, not caring about her cold hands this time.

“I love you too Emily. So much.”

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For such a sad day, the weather was perfect. You put on the black dress JJ had purchased you and let her do your hair and makeup. Since your fiancee’s death, you had been in a slump. You had taken time off to grieve and spend your days lounging and crying. JJ had been your rock and listened to you whenever you needed it.

“All done.” She finished and pulled away, placing a kiss on top of your head. The concealer she had applied had done very poorly to cover up the bags under your eyes. You imagined Emily smiling at you in the mirror from behind.

The car ride was silent. Neither of you could speak.

You helped the team carry her coffin and set it down in front of her grave. When you saw it, tears pooled in your eyes.

Emily Prentiss Oct. 12, 1970 - March 7, 2011

Fidelity Bravery Integrity

A single tear fell down your face leaving a shiny trail. The team had asked if you wanted to speak at her funeral, but you hadn’t said a word since the hospital. You took a white rose and placed it on her coffin speaking 3 words.

“I love you.”

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You woke up with your head on Emily’s chest. She had proposed last night and you were both ecstatic. You closed your barely open eyes as she stirred. You smiled and turned your face up to her, pulling her into a blind kiss.

“Good morning love.” She murmured against your lips. You whispered a ‘morning’ before tackling her lips again. When you both pulled back, you opened your eyes for the first time and stared at her in awe.

“Good morning fiancee.”

“Good morning. Breakfast?” You shook your head.

“Not yet.” She nodded and kissed your temple.

“I love you.” You smiled and blinked slowly trying to figure out if she was real.

“I love you too Em.”

“God, I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

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“7 months ago I made a decision that affected this team.” You stared at your girlfriend's former boss as he spoke. “As you all know, Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle. The doctors were able to stabilize her. She was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under a covert exfiltration.” Your eyes widened as you realized what Aaron what saying. “Her identity was strictly need-to-know. She stayed there until she was well enough to travel. She was reassigned to Paris where she was given several identities, none of which we had access to for her security.”

Penelope was the first to speak. “She’s alive?”

“But we buried her,” Spencer added.

“As I said, I take full responsibility for the decision. If anyone has any issues they should be directed toward me.”

“Any issues?” Derek spoke, his voice laced with annoyance and anger. “Yeah, I got issues.” The team looked to behind you at the door. You turned and saw her standing with a brown bag on her shoulder and a solemn look on her face.

“Oh my god.”

“Emily?” Your voice was hoarse and broken from barely speaking for over 7 months. A smile graced your face for the first time since she died. “Oh my god.” You pulled her into a tight hug as you buried your face in her neck. “Oh god. I missed you.” She kissed your head.

“I missed you too love. I missed you too.” You let go to make sure you weren’t imagining this.

“God. I hate you so much.” You kissed her passionately before hugging her again.

“I’m here. I’m here. And I’m never leaving again.”

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x y/n #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds fluff

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wannabemobwife · 4 years ago

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Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas - Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Leave a Light On

Dad!Mob!Tom x Mom!Mob!Reader

-Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader, Rosie Holland x Henry Osterfield, Family!Rosie Holland x Family!Harry Holland (idk really how to do pairings because most characters have interactions with everyone)

-Warnings: Hospital scenes, sadness, blood, typos

-Words: 4.1K

-Key:

Y/M/N = your middle name

Y/L/N = your last name

Y/B/T = your blood type (if you don’t know you can pick a random one, there is O-/+, AB-/+, A+/-, and B-/+)

A/n: I have a too much fun writing the hospital scenes sorry. And before you at me for a second coma, it isn’t one. Some people just take longer to come out of general anesthesia.

Chapter 11: Leave a Light On

Words: 4K

“Oh my god, she still has a pulse” said one of EMTs in the copter.

“Tell the hospital to have as much Y/B/T on hand when we get there.”

“We got you, Mrs. Holland.”

Everything was a blur. You were taunted by your consciousness ebbing like the tide. One minute you were awake, the other not so much. Noises and smells seemed louder and stronger as your sight was stripped from you. A constant buzzing gave the hint of a helicopter, you were rescued. You wanted to give up at that moment. All your energy had dissipated over the hours of waiting. Giving up would make all the pain go away.

But at what cost? You wanted to see Parker’s and Rosie’s smiling face once more. You wanted to see Tom again. Tell him you loved him because you aren’t so sure he truly believed you the last time. You wanted all these things but it seemed you were meant for a different path.

One without pain, struggle and hurt. One that has only known of peace, bliss, and tranquility. One you ready to say goodbye to and the other hello.

Something beyond yourself was keeping in the position you were in. Struggling to bring oxygen to your lungs, bleeding out liter after liter from your side you were ready and needed to give up. Someone else wasn’t ready.

“Mrs. Holland can you hear me?” A doctor said, shining a light in your eyes to see if you were responsive.

“Mrs. Holland, we are going to take good care of you.”

“Oh, wow... she’s soaked entirely through her bandage. I need all the bags from the blood bank of Y/B/T you can find. She could die of exsanguination any moment.

“Tom,” you whispered.

“What was that? Did you hear that?” Asked the hospital staff, working above you. You reached up weakly, to pull your oxygen mask off for a second.

“Tell Tom I love him, please,” was all you could choke out before a terrifying but familiar sound filled the room. A monotone beep. You were coding.

“I need a crash cart in here. Charging to 200… clear,” called out the doctor. Your body jolted up with the force of 200 joules.

“Charging to 300… clear.”

“Charge to 400, CLEAR,” the doctor screamed.

“Charge to 450—.“

“Doctor we aren’t supposed to give that high of a shock,” informed one of the surgical interns.

“I don’t care, this woman needs to see her kids again… Clear,” The doctor said, delivering a final defibrillation. Your heart rate returned to normal, a steady pulse still weak but there.

“Doctor, she has a pneumothorax (collapsed lung) on her right lung,” said one of the medical personnel using the ultrasound. “Shit, we need to get her to the OR now. Let’s move. I’m not going to let her die on me.” The doctor explained.

A plane ride that was only supposed to be 2 hours and 15 minutes melded into what felt like days. No word from Harry or anyone had come about you and Tom. They all landed and took a car to the hospital. It was enough waiting by then, all they knew is that both of you were found. Neglecting to mention dead or alive.

“I’m here for Tom and Y/N Holland. They were airlifted in. Can we see them?” Nikki asked the person at the front desk.

“No hablo ingles, lo siento,” said the receptionist

“IS THERE ANYBODY HERE WHO SPEAKS ENGLISH?” Dom screamed. “Yes, I do. Did I hear you say you are here for Tom and Y/N Holland?” Asked a man clad in a white lab coat.

“Yes. He’s my son and she’s my daughter-in-law. These are their kids.” Nikki explained gesturing to Parker and Rosie.

“Well ma’am if you’ll follow me. I can tell you in private.” “No, whatever needs to be said, they can hear. They want to hear.” “Still follow me to a private waiting room please, your son is in there. Everyone can come,” the doctor concluded. “Alright then,” Nikki responded, following the doctor to a private waiting room.

“Harry.” Rosie said, seeing her favorite uncle.

“You made it, I’ve been waiting for you guys to hear an update.” Harry was so happy to see the rest of his family. “It’s bad, it was really bad,” Harry explained somberly. “Enough with the dilly dally, just tell me. Is my son dead?” Nikki couldn’t take the waiting anymore.

“They were both brought in barely conscious. Tom had lost some blood due to an open wound on his femur, he has a severe concussion, a few cracked ribs and a small knick on his kidney. He is currently in surgery, they are fixing his kidney. The most he will have is a few stitches but, we are very confident he’ll pull through,” explained the doctor.

“And my mom?” Rosie asked.

“Y/N is currently in surgery, she has protruding wound to the abdomen, a collapsed lung, broken ribs, and a severe concussion. She lost a lot of blood, almost dying of exsanguination. She is in surgery to treat her abdominal wound and her lung. Our biggest concern is sepsis, we are worried an infection caused by the elements will occur.”

“So she’ll be okay, right?” Parker questioned.

“She wasn’t conscious like Tom when they found her. In her case the amount of blood she lost might have stopped bringing oxygen to her brain. If she survives the surgery—“

“If?” Rosie gasped, starting to cry.

“Rosie, let him finish,” Parker snapped.

“If she survives, we don’t know when or if she will wake up. We can only hope for the best. I promise to come back with any further updates.”

“Thank you doctor,” said Nikki.

“I need some tea or coffee or a drink. Anyone else?” Sam said, Dom nodded in response.

“I’ll join you and dad,” Paddy said following Dom and Sam out of the room.

Parker was trying to keep everything inside. He actually appreciated the uncertainty of it all, the longer it went on the longer he didn’t have to hear a definitive answer, that you and Tom were dead.

Parker mainly tried to comfort Rosie but that position was filled once Haz and Henry got to the hospital. It was only 30 mins til another doctor approached them.

“Your son is out of surgery. He is resting in room 302, we are just waiting for him to come out of general anesthesia,” came in another doctor with news.

“Thank you. And my daughter-in-law?”

“She is still in surgery,” informed the doctor.

“Ok, thank you. I’m going to go check on Tom. Parker come with?” Nikki asked, she didn’t want to be alone seeing Tom lie in a hospital bed.

“Sure,” Parker said, following Nikki through the door.

“Harry, you’ll stay here with Rosie,” Nikki called out.

“How you doing, Roo?” Harry asked, moving towards Rosie’s side.

“My mom calls me that,” she said, unmoving towards Harry’s love.

Rosie was still like a statue. But her mind was very active, traveling from place to place. Just waiting for someone to update her on your condition.

“I know. She’ll pull through, Rosie.”

“How can you be so certain?”

“Cause I know your mom. For as long as I can remember she has always been the strongest person in the room.” Harry comforted her, draping an arm over her shoulders. “Your dad is convinced she is indestructible. Sure, she has gotten hurt in the past but she has always bounced back. Hasn’t she?” Harry encouraged.

“Yeah, she has,” Rosie sniffled, wiping her nose with her sweater’s sleeve.

“After everything she has survived, she is still here,” Harry asserted. “When she and your dad first were dating, they’d like to scare each other. Tom must’ve pulled something like 20 guns on her. It was really funny to watch,” Harry grinned.

“Tell me more stories please,” Rosie perked up at the anecdotes.

“Well there was that time when your mom told your dad about being pregnant with both you and Parker.”

“I already know that one.”

“Ok, let me think… oh. One time we pulled a prank on her. All of us, me, your dad, Sam, Paddy and Haz. She was supposed to speak at this benefit promoting something… I want to say a disease… maybe climate change… who cares,” Harry began. “But she is better at it now but she used to be so scared of public speaking. That night at the gala, she had a panic attack and Tom went to comfort her backstage, while the boys and I all went into her purse and switched out her speech for the joke one we made.”

“She went on stage and broke in to a laughing fit. All her nerves dissipated as she stood up there, cracking jokes from left and right. It was really funny because she was so scared she would read whatever was written on the cards. She did end up making a fool out of herself, but it was funny nonetheless. She was so mad at us, she avoided Tom for a week,” Harry finished, reminiscing of that night.

“Wow, that’s mean. Like really mean,” Rosie remarked as his story came to an end.

“No it wasn’t. It was funny, she’ll laugh about it now if you ask her.”

“Was she as mad as she has been lately?” Rosie inquired.

“What do you mean?”

“Mom and dad have been fighting a lot… I’m scared they won’t be able to work it out. I’ve never seem them like this,” Rosie cried, fighting back a fit of sobs.

“Roo, those two? Are you kidding me? They will work it out, they always have.”

“But that isn’t a guarantee.”

“Rosie, your mom and dad have been written in the stars since the beginning. Nothing will ever break them apart. And almost dying really brings people back together. I wouldn’t worry Rosie, they’ll be ok,” Harry consoled her.

Rosie really needed to hear that. Something to get her mind off all the death and sickness that surrounded her. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye. She needed you to hold her once more.

“Mrs. Holland, Y/N is out of surgery now. If you’ll follow me I can take you to her room,” a doctor said to Nikki as she was stroking Tom’s hair, waiting for him to wake up.

“Oh thank god, thank you. Parker do you want to come?” Nikki asked.

“No, I think I’ll stay here with dad. In case he wakes up. I’m not ready to see her like that anyway,” Parker mumbled, needing every excuse to not walk into your room.

Nikki just nodded in response. Nikki was there when Rosie was in her coma and she knew you liked to talk to her as if she was there, so she did the same.

“Hey, Y/N. I’m sorry this happened. The doctors have warned me that you might not wake up and I’m here to tell you that’s not an option. Your kids need you. Tom needs you…. He won’t be able to live without you. None of us will,” Nikki said, holding you hand. As soon as Rosie got word, she was already there. Standing in your doorway peering at your sunken body.

“Mom? It’s Rosie…. It’s your Roo,… why isn’t she waking up?” Rosie came barging in. She’d never seen you in a state like this.

“Mom? Mommy, please,” Rosie said, starting to shake you a bit.

“Rosie, come here,” Nikki said, pulling her into her arms. “She’ll be ok. All we have to do is wait.” Nikki concluded.

In Tom’s room, Parker was still there by his dad’s side. Everything had gotten massively screwed up. He was betraying his own dad and Tom didn’t even know.

“Parker?” Tom croaked out, slightly moving.

“Dad, I’m so glad you are okay,” Parker lunged to hug him.

“Me too, buddy,” Tom said, gritting his teeth to mask the pain.

“How’s mom?” Tom asked, praying you were still alive. It had been a rough night. Images of your half-dead body leaning against him for support plagued his memory.

“Umm… you should see for yourself.”

“What room is she in?” Tom asked, jumping out of bed.

“Dad, I don’t think it’s such a good idea you get up,” Parker exclaimed.

“Parker, don’t you dare stand in my way.”

“Mr. Holland, you’re awake — woah, you can’t get up. Your stitches could rip,” the nurse spoke with a thick Spanish accent.

“I don’t care. Let me see my wife,” Tom yelled.

“You may need to sedate him,” Parker said cheekily.

“Fuck that,” Tom cursed.

“You aren’t doing anything to me till I see her,” Tom asserted, the nurse just nodded in response and brought him a wheel chair.

Parker wheeled him through the hospital. He was about to face his fear as well as Tom. It both being the fact that you were dead and not longer living. They weren’t ready for that.

Tom came into your room and it was like a time machine. All those times he was walked into a room similar to this one with the white walls, white sheets, bright blinding lights and the machines that beep to no end. He was taken back to every time he had seen you lying in a hospital bed.

All the times he knew he hadn’t protected you. All the guilt and anguish came flooding back. Washing over him like a tsunami.

He walked in to see everyone gathered around you. Rosie was sitting on the left side of your bed, clutching your left hand and Henry was next to her keeping an arm around her shoulder. Tom didn’t care about them anymore, all that mattered was you.

“Dad, you’re awake!” Rosie cheered, as she saw Tom in the doorway.

“Yeah baby, I’m okay,” he said, holding Rosie close to his chest.

“I’m scared, dad. I’m scared she won’t wake up,” Rosie cried.

“I know. I am too.” Tom responded, his eyes still fixed to your lifeless figure.

“You know it was just a 5 weeks ago, you were lying a hospital bed just like mom. And she was holding on to your hand just like you are to her. And if you woke up from that, I can promise you she’ll wake up from this,” Tom encouraged.

“You really think so?” Rosie queried.

“I know so.… You know what your mom loves to tell me?”

“No. What?”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“It sounds like her,” Rosie chucked to herself.

“Yeah, it does.” Tom did the same, he was the one keeping you here. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye. 17 years was nothing compared to lifetime he was destined to have with you. Nobody accounts for the times where something so drastic happens that it can change your entire timeline.

Nobody believes they will die tomorrow or get hit by a bus anywhere. People just live in day to day life thinking that they have a 100 years to go.

You’d think by now, he’d gotten used to seeing you in a hospital bed. Maybe grown accustomed to it. On the contrary, every time he’d see you like this he’d go weak at the knees and beg to switch places with you. To be the one lying there, on death’s door, not you

Every time he has made a promise, your life has been put on the line. You are constantly caught in the crossfires. Tom slowly remembered why he hated hospitals so much, especially when they were associated with you.

“We’ll give you two a minute,” Nikki said, motioning for everyone to clear the room so it was just Tom and you.

“Hey, darling. I told you we’d make it. We had two choices either we died together or we made it together.” Tom began, trying not to cry.

“Y/N, I’m standing here and I’m okay. So it’s only a matter of time before I see you again. We promised it would be us together. Don’t you dare go back on that promise from ages ago, I’m supposed to go before you. Ok? It’s supposed to me. You promised me.”

“This one that you have to keep. I know it might be nearly impossible to, love. But there is no but or if, there is only you waking up and seeing me. Seeing your husband who loves you more than life itself. Seeing our two beautiful kids. I know I haven’t been your favorite person lately, so don’t do it for me. Do it for them, Parker and Rosie. They need you, more than they know.”

“Alright princess, it's only a matter of time. I’ll see you soon.” Tom finished, pressing a kiss to your forehead. One of longing, he just wanted to see your smiling face again. He let himself go completely, breaking down the flood gates. Tears started coming and they didn’t stop, they couldn’t.

Haz peered through the open door, to see Tom crying over you, he immediately jumped into best mate mode and went to comfort Tom.

“Hey. It’s ok. You can let it out,” Harrison said, pulling Tom into his arms.

“I was so awful to her Haz. I let her think I cheated on her so she wouldn’t be mad about Rosie and Henry,” Tom cried out.

“Why? What did you do? You know what, that’s not important right now. The point is she will pull through.”

“She could be dying and the last moment I can only remember with her is our fight. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

“She’s not dying, Tom. Y/N has survived much more than this and promise you, you will say hello again.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Tom said, taking a line from your vernacular.

“Come on, let’s get some coffee… Here, hop on. I’ll push you,” Haz said, grabbing Tom’s wheelchair

“For fucks sake, you aren’t pushing me. I’m not some sick, crippled patient.” Tom exclaimed.

“Well… you did just get out of surgery.”

“I don’t care. I’m not going to let my helicopter crashing be the reason I can’t walk and I am looked at with pity.”

“Alright Tom, I believe we were going to get some coffee.”

“I don’t want to leave her alone,” Tom whispered.

“Rosie will be in here in a moment,” Haz explained.

“Ok.. Roo, can you go sit with your mom while I get your dad some coffee?” Haz asked. Tom still didn’t want to leave you but he knew you would want him to eat something.

“Yes, I’ll keep her safe.”

“I know you will, baby… Hold it. Hey Henry, can I talk to you?” Tom said, holding Henry back from entering the room.

“Dad,” Rosie said, sternly.

“Don’t worry, sweetie,” Tom said pulling Henry to the side.

��I’m sorry Tom.. um I mean Mr. Holland but I love your daughter more than anything,” Henry stammered.

“I just wanted to say thank you for being there for her when.. you know,” Tom admitted.

“Of course, I love her very much. And if the time every comes where I plan on marrying her I will ask for hands in marriage,” Henry promised.

“Woah kid, slow down. This is permission to date. No talking or even thinking about marriage, you understand. Also wear a fucking condom.”

“Yes, sir. Understood… Thanks Tom.”

“You’re a good kid, Henry. She’s in good hands,” Tom grinned, Henry just smiled and returned to Rosie. Returning to his rightful place, in her arms.

“Haz, did you bring me a change of clothes. I need to get out of this fucking gown,” Tom chuckled.

“Are you sure that’s a good ide—“ Haz started but was soon cut off.

“Eh, eh,” Tom interrupted giving him a harsh glare.

“You are not weak, I get it. Yeah, they are in my bag,” Haz concluded.

Tom said, “Thank you,” in return.

The waiting was back and it was killing Tom once again. This time he wasn’t waiting for both your impending deaths, just yours. It was eating him from the inside out.

You didn’t have enough time together. It wasn’t enough. Tom desired more, he needed more. All your favorite moments of you played through his head. Like he was watching a movie of his life with you, his love story.

One specifically, the day he proposed to you. It was hard to top his happiness that day.

All the days leading up to it he was distant and flighty. It worried it you greatly. Was he planning to break up with you? You were consumed with never-ending negative thoughts about your relationship.

It had been a while since you and Tom had a date night. He’d blown you off a few times to plan out the perfect proposal, afraid he’d let the question just slip out somehow. However, that was unknown to you so all you thought was, he’s an ass.

Tom was in his office, planning out how he was going to do it. What he would wear, where he would propose, what would he say. What would you say? He was nervous wreck.

“Haz, I can’t have anyone come in here ok?” Tom ordered. He must’ve practiced it 7 times. Getting down on one knee and declaring his love for you behind closed doors.

“Understood, Tom,” Haz said, giving him a cheeky grin as he closed his door. Not even 10 mins later, you came barging in through the front door. In a fury because Tom hadn’t returned any of your calls.

“Where is he?” You asked Haz. “Y/N?” He said, confused as to why you were here. Well, you did live there.

“Where’s Tom? I have to talk to him,” you asserted. “Why am I asking you? Of course, he is in his study,” you replied to your own question.

“NO, you can’t go in there,” Haz said, following you to Tom’s office.

“And why not?”

“He’s in a meeting.”

“What meeting would he have a 10:30 at night… Unless?” Your heart sank at the possibility of Tom not alone in there.

“Unless what?”

“He has a woman in there doesn’t he?”

“Umm.”

“It’s fine. I’ll go. You won’t see me around anymore. He chose her over me,” you said, trying not to cry. But you weren’t going to put up a fight.

“Y/N it’s not like that,” Haz called after you, trying to stop you from walking away.

“Then what is it Haz?”

“I can’t tell you?… Just go in there and see for yourself.”

“I don’t want see them.”

“Just do it,” Haz ordered, you eventually agreed. Opening the door to a very well-dressed Tom down on one knee holding a blue velvet box in his hands.

“People always spoke of soulmates and I didn’t believe them. But then I found you. And I had never been so happy to be proven wrong. Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N you make me want to be a better man. You are my inspiration for everything. I can’t ever imagine living without you. Will you marry me?” Tom said, oblivious to you standing right there.

“Yes,” you said without hesitation.

“No! No, no. You weren’t supposed to see that. Haz I told you to guard the door,” Tom yelled.

“Yes, Tommy. I’ll marry you”, you continued, hoping he’d hear you.

“God, it's ruined now. I’m so sorry. I had this huge plan take you to the London eye,” Tom apologized profusely, running his hands through the curls atop his head in frustration.

“Tom, you're not hearing me. I want to be your wife,” you exclaimed, you couldn’t contain your excitement.

“You do?” Tom surprised at your answer.

“Yes, that’s what I’ve been saying. YES!” You screamed. Tom immediately grabbed you twirling you in the air and kissed you with all the love and passion you deserved. He had been neglecting you so he wouldn’t spoil it.

He put the ring on your finger. It looked as though it was home. You were his and he was yours. Nothing could top that moment.

Thinking about you and the time spent together. It made it that much harder to say goodbye.

Tom was brought out of his trance as you stirred, starting to wake. All heads and eyes turned towards you.

“Y/N. Honey, it’s ok. You were in a helicopter crash. You’re ok. You’re ok. I’m so happy to see you,” Tom whispered, tucking the hair out of your face.

The moment you came to, your eyes widened and a look of panic adorned your face. You were completely lost. Unaware of all your surroundings. You managed to croak out three words. Not an “I love you,” not words of love, quite the opposite.

“Who are you?”

A/n: Alright, Y/N lived. As I promised, there are 17 chapter in this series, 6 more to go. I will start writing the sequel series once all these chapters have been posted, even though I have it already planned out in my head lol. New chapters every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas Masterlist

Taglist: @dummiesshort @thenoddingbunny-blog @adriannauni @bi-lmg @allthisfortommy

#mob!tom #tom holland #tom holland au #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagines #tom holland mob au #tom holland series #tom holland x reader #mob!tom holland #mob tom #mob!tom holland x reader #mob!tom x mob!reader #dad!mob!tom holland #mob!tom x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fic #tom holland masterlist

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lassieposting · 3 years ago

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- She was born a bit before Skug's mother, so, around the 1100s. Her parents were a Danish viking (who settled in Ireland after the invasion in the 9th century) and his Irish bride, and since the vikings remained a distinct culture and ethnicity until c. 1200, she grew up with viking beliefs and traditions. Viking women were taught to fight and fend for themselves, which is why she's feistier and more independent than was normal for women at the time.

- Her childhood was good, and her family was big and close. She was born late enough to miss the majority of the fighting during the invasion, so their life was mostly a peaceful one. Occasionally her father would ride off to fight with the lord he served, and he'd come back with new slaves and grand stories, but it never really affected her. She was actually pretty salty that she missed out on all the glory.

- Her power was insane and her visions began at a really young age. Most of her village was mortal, but her powers were considered a gift from Odin and she was seen as a seer rather than a freak. Her "gift" terrified her and she quietly hated it, but kept that to herself because she didn't want the gods to punish her for rejecting their favour.

- Darquesse isn't the only thing she saw well in advance. She was convinced from a young age that she would have two sons with a red-haired Irish man. Ghastly's father was Irish, but not ginger: Skug - her son by choice, not by blood - was the red-headed boy in the vision.

- She went travelling for a bit during her teens with her older brothers and got into some scrapes, and during one of these trips she met Ghastly's father, Solicitous, who taught her about magic. She married him for love in her early 20s, baffling her family, who all thought she'd have gotten thoroughly bored of him by then.

- They're an odd couple. She's an Amazon of a woman with a loud, extroverted, overtly maternal personality. He's a quiet little man with his head in the clouds who doesn't really understand people and is happiest when sat feeding the birds. She henpecks him a bit, but they love each other dearly and stay married until her death.

- It takes a long time for her to get pregnant. She wasn't expecting that, and she's very upset that her parents never got to meet her son. She's lost track of her siblings' great-great-great-great-etc grandkids by the time she has a child of her own. Still, she's over the moon when she finds out she's expecting Ghastly.

- She's cursed about halfway through her pregnancy, but she doesn't realise the curse had any lasting effects until Ghastly is born. It hurt her at the time, and she was afraid it might've killed the baby, but when Ghastly kept kicking and shit like normal, she assumed she'd just gotten lucky. She knew her son would be scarred, but she always thought he'd get them in battle. She never thought it'd be her fault. She blames herself for a long time, and they do everything they can to try and break the curse so Ghastly can have a normal childhood.

- When Ghastly is toddling, they start trying for baby #2. And then they try to increase the chances of baby #2 by visiting a healer. This is when she's informed that she will never be able to have more children, and it breaks her. She thinks about the little redheaded baby who will never be and just? Goes to pieces.

- She's the one who nudges Ghastly into getting on the merchant ship. He had no intention or desire to ever go to sea, and actually he spent a good part of the first few days being violently sick overboard. But she had a feeling about that particular ship, that he needed to be on that one when it left port, that it was important. A bit over a month later, he returns home, and he brings Skug.

- She knows he's her second boy the minute she touches him. He's kind of, awkward and gangly and looks a bit lost, a bit hollow in the eyes, and when she asks if she should send word to his family that he's safe, he makes an off-key joke about how they probably haven't even noticed he's missing. She makes up a spare cot in Ghastly's little attic room and Skug moves in.

- She badly wants to give Skug's parents a battering. The first night he sleeps there, she kisses Ghastly's forehead before he goes up to bed even though he grouses and complains that he's too old for that, now. And Skug just. Stares. With this silly scrunchy-nosed look on his face like he's never seen a mother give a goodnight kiss before. So she gives him one too.

- She takes precisely zero bullshit as a parent. Her kids are her world, and she makes all their meals, washes their clothes, wakes them up in the morning, etc. But she also raps hands with a ladle for starting to eat before everyone has been served, boxes ears for cussing in the house (usually Ghastly) or putting boots on the table (usually Skug), and locks them out to sleep in the barn if they're not home by the time she goes to bed. She strongly suspects this is the first time Skulduggery has ever been introduced to "house rules".

- She works in a tavern some evenings, pouring ale, serving food and tossing out grabby or unruly patrons. It brings in some extra coin and she's highly sociable, so she loves the atmosphere.

- Absolutely asks after Wifey long before Skug ever meets her. Realises her mistake when she clarifies that by "lady friend" she did not mean "China" and Skug's eyebrows practically airlift off his face, because he is intending to marry China at the time, and now there's apparently someone else in his future???

- Actually mixes up Skug's girlfriends a lot, and regularly forgets which ones he has and hasn't met. She despairs, honestly. One of her boys is a hermit and the other one is a hussy. Why can't they just find nice girls to settle down with?

- Nursed both Skug and Ghastly through their Surge, and Skug's was the scariest fuckin thing she'd ever seen. She genuinely expected him to die, and she was convinced from that point on that there was something in him that wasn't entirely human, something fierce and feral and frightened. Since Skug's Elemental magic was trying to wipe out his Necromancy, she's right: the thing that would become Lord Vile was fighting for its life.

- She painstakingly saves money for the both of them during their late teens, intending to use it for their homes when they marry and move out. Skug signs up for the army instead and Ghastly decides to go with him, so instead she uses it to have a woven razor sword made for each of them.

- Foresaw and diverted both her sons' deaths so many times? Just not all of them.

- One of these instances, she had a nightmare on the eve of a battle where she saw Skug bleeding out on the battlefield surrounded by the dead and the dying. She used the dream to figure out where he was after the battle was done, and delivered him to a field hospital...where he met Wifey.

#skulduggery pleasant #sp headcanons #long post #saoirse thorsdottir

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marvelsdc22 · 4 years ago

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You Should Tell Them (pt. 4)

Intro: Hello, lovelies!! I hope you guys are having a good day/night!! Here is the final part for you guys, sorry it took me so long!! Enjoy ~ :)

Note: Y/N has been struggling since Emily died, the whole team had been working relentlessly on trying to find Doyle to bring him to justice, what happens when someone makes an unexpected appearance?

Word Count: 1585

Part 1 2 3

Months after Emily had died, you and J.J. had gone separate ways, the two of you not able to function without Emily there, she was the final piece to the puzzle, but without her there, you two couldn’t handle it together so when J.J. started meeting back up with Will, you didn’t stop her, you didn’t have the strength to, you couldn’t even stand to be in a room alone with her without feeling heartbreak, but you two stayed civilized since you both still had to work with one another.

When you were called into the conference room with everyone else by J.J. and Hotch with no explanation, you were suspicious, you all were, you could see it on everyone else’s faces “You get anywhere with Doyle?” Spencer asked, looking at Morgan, that name alone making your blood boil “Doyle doesn’t think Gerace has the guts to take him on” “But that’s definitely Gerace on the tape” Garcia said, going and sitting down in one of the chairs in the room “Welcome back” Morgan said, causing all of you to look over and see Hotch as he walked into the room.

“Thanks… Everybody have a seat” Hotch said, resting his hands on the back of the chair in front of him “Why?” Morgan asked, looking at them as he slowly made his way to his seat and you watching as J.J. walked up to Hotch, causing you to raise an eyebrow since you could tell something was up, crossing your arms as you locked eyes with her and seeing the guilt in her eyes, what did she feel guilty for?

Refusing to sit down, you looked at them and listened “Seven months ago, I made a decision that effected this team… As all of you know, Emily lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle” Hotch said, sending a pang to your heart as you glanced over at J.J. who avoided your gaze “But the doctors were able to stabilize her” “What?!” You asked, shocked as you looked at him but him ignoring you as he continued “She was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under covert exfiltration-“ you stopping listening to him since you felt the anger build inside you the more he talked and trying to get J.J. to look at you, feeling a hand on your arm but you didn’t look to see who it was, too set on getting J.J to look at you.

“She’s alive?” You heard Garcia ask, feeling the hand come off your arm as she turned in her chair to look at Hotch “But we buried her” Spencer said, the tension in the room so thick you could barely cut a knife through it as you all stared at the two of them “As I said, I take full responsibility for the decision… If anyone has any issues, they should be directed toward me” Hotch said, looking at you all and you couldn’t help it when you said “Oh I have issues, how could you keep this from us?? From ME?! How could you? Both of you!” You cried, tears slipping from your eyes and feeling an arm wrap around you, you pulling away from it since you didn’t want to be touched “Any issues?” Morgan asked after you pulled away from him “Yeah, I have issues” he said, you seeing everyone turn towards one of the doors, so you looked as well, seeing Emily standing there, looking alive and well.

You stared at her as she stood there, looking apologetically at all of you “Oh my god” Garcia said, looking at her and you bit your lip, unsure how you should feel before you stormed out, hearing Emily call your name but you said nothing, you didn’t want to hear anything she had to say, not only did she leave you for seven months, she ruined the best relationship you’ve ever had due to her decision and you weren’t about to let her back in that easily.

A few weeks later, you all had worked together to try and get Doyle before he got Emily once more, you having not spoken to either Emily or J.J. since Emily’s return, heading down the hall of the BAU, you stopped when you heard voices from J.J.’s office “You got back with Will?” You heard Emily ask, hearing J.J. sigh before you heard the creak of her office chair as she leaned back in it “Me and Y/N couldn’t go on without you, no matter how hard we tried, I kept getting weighed down by the guilt of knowing you were still alive while she didn’t… I couldn’t handle it, I went back to Will for a bit, but we didn’t work either” you heard her say, you holding your hand over your mouth so you wouldn’t make a sound as you leaned back against the wall by the door.

“God, I missed you” You heard J.J. exclaim, hearing Emily give a small laugh in return “You have no idea how hard it was to live without you two… I wish she would talk to me… I want to make all of this right, I want to go back to the way things were” Emily said, hearing her sigh before you heard her stand up “Once this case is over, we need to sit down and have a talk with her… I feel terrible for what we did, she didn’t deserve that” you heard her say, her voice getting closer as she approached the door and you quickly making your escape before they saw you standing there.

A few days later, you guys were sitting in the court room, waiting for the verdict “Y/N?” Emily asked, causing you to look up from your phone, you having been messaging your mother about something “After the case is over, can we talk?” She asked, looking at you and glancing over at J.J. who was watching you two from afar, knowing that the two of them had been getting close again “Emily…” You said, sighing as you ran your hands over your face before you looked at her “Okay” you whispered, knowing that you deserved an explanation at the very least and averting your gaze when she smiled at you, not seeing the wince she gave when you looked away before she went back over to J.J.

After the hearing was over, you were working at your desk, glancing over when you saw Emily exit Strauss’s office before she made her way over to you “Mind if we talk in the conference room?” She asked, looking at you and you just nodded before you pushed yourself away from your desk, you walking in a few moments before J.J. came in and closed the door behind her “What do you want to talk about?” You asked quietly, crossing your arms as you looked between the two of them “We wanted to apologize… We shouldn’t have kept you out of the loop” J.J. said, causing you to scoff before you glared at them “You’re just now realizing this? I thought YOU were dead!” You exclaimed, jabbing a finger at Emily before looking at J.J. “And you left me ALONE and went back to Will… Fuck both of you for doing this!” You shouted, glaring at both of them as tears slid down your cheeks, you being an angry crier, it being one thing you hated about yourself.

Emily and J.J. winced, but they didn’t deny it since they deserved this for what they did “We know that sorry isn’t going to change any of this, but we want to try to make this up to you… Please, let us try” Emily begged, looking at you and reaching out, lightly grabbing your arm which made the flood gates break inside of you, the touch fully confirming that she was truly there, that she was truly alive and in front of you “How could you?!” You sobbed, looking at her and unable to stop her when she pulled you into a hug, all you wanted was to collapse into her and just cry and you did just that “I’m so sorry” she whispered repeatedly into your ear, tears slipping out of her eyes as well as J.J.’s “Please let us start over” J.J. said, going and gently touching your back which made you let out a sob again since it had been months since she had touched you in any way, the two of them letting you cry it out, patiently waiting for you to regain your bearing to be able to answer them.

After a few minutes, you pulled back, your eyes red and puffy as you wiped your eyes with your hand, not saying anything before you took a deep breath “Promise me this won’t happen again” you finally stuttered out, looking at them and watching as they wiped their own eyes before nodding “We can start over” you said softly, knowing it would take some time to get back to the way things were before, but you were willing to try if they were and the next thing you knew, you were pulled into a hug by the two of them “Thank you, we promise to make things better” J.J. said, wrapping her arms around you and Emily “You won’t regret this” Emily promised, giving you both a squeeze and you not saying anything, knowing the three of you had a long road ahead, but you guys would get through it… Together.

Permanent Taglist: @rianncreates / @natasha-danvers / @youngandwildx7 / @hopingforbarnes / @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

Criminal Minds Taglist: @wokeupinawalnut

End Note: I hope you guys enjoyed!! If you’d like to be added to a Taglist, shoot me a DM or an Ask!! Have a good day/night!!

Requests Open

#jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau x fem!reader #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x fem!reader #jemily x reader #jennifer jareau x emily prentiss x reader #jennifer jareau imagine #emily prentiss imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #You Should Tell Them

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heyitsani · 4 years ago

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Another Dream

Omega!Dick Week Day 6: Accidental Pregnancy

Word Count: 1841

Rating: Teen and Up

Warnings: Mpreg and Robincest (obviously)

Pairing: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd

Summary: Jason is in Brazil when a call about Dick collapsing while out on patrol with Damian comes in.

Notes: This seems like it’s going to be angsty, but it’s really just a fluff piece filled with love.

Reminder: Day four’s story is being posted today as well because I didn’t want to spoil this one.

You can also read this on AO3 here

“Hood, come in.”

Jason cringed when the sound of Bruce’s Batman voice came over the comm line he had promised to keep on while he was out in South America with Artemis and Bizarro. It had been years since he had gone on mission with them, but when they had called asking for help Dick had told them Jason would be there. And despite Jason pointing out that he could make his own decisions, Dick still insisted he go. Gotham was covered and Bludhaven was good with just Nightwing, but he could call for backup if the need arose. And James was thirteen, more than capable of looking after himself while Dick was out patrolling the city. Even though Dick promised to have someone come stay with the teenager while he was out just to calm Jason’s worried.

So, Jason had reluctantly agreed.

That had been almost a week ago and though Jason still worried, the multiple times a day both Dick and James contacted him was enough to get the job done.

“What can I do for you Old Man?” Jason asked, landing a kick to the chest of one of the thugs in the warehouse he and Bizarro were currently clearing out while Artemis took care of the kids that the scum had been gathering to sell.

“It’s Nightwing. You need to come back as soon as possible.” Jason froze for a moment before punching the man in front of him and knocking him out cold. A glance toward Bizarro told him that the clone was finishing off the last of the men so Jason could focus on Bruce in his helmet.

“What do you mean ‘It’s Nightwing?’ What. Happened.” He demanded, drawing Bizarro’s attention as the last guy went down and they were surrounded by silence.

“Birdie okay?” Jason waved a hand to his partner to ask him to hold on the questions for a moment.

“Flamebird was patrolling with him while Superboy stayed with Jamie. Nightwing and him were breaking up a bank robbery when Nightwing just dropped. Red Robin picked the pair up and are headed to Leslie as we speak.” No reasonable explanation for the drop. No ‘he had been hit by a bullet’ or ‘he took a nasty punch to the face’. Just he dropped.

“I’m in fucking Brazil, B,” Jason growled, starting to ziptie the thugs as Bizarro gathered them in a pile for the authorities to apprehend. “It’s a ten-hour flight! Unless you have a teleporter on hand.”

“No, you just need to get on a plane. What airport are you near? I’ll get your ticket set up.” Jason spat out their location and he could hear Bruce typing into the computer on the other end.

“Birdie?”

“I don’t know, Bizarro,” Jason admitted carefully. He knew that even though they had had minimal contact, Bizarro had fond memories of Dick. The clone also knew how much Jason loved Dick and that was enough to love him in his own way.

“You have an hour to get to the airport that’s twenty minutes away, Hood.” Jason gave a grunt of acknowledgment. “Do you have an earpiece for the flight so we can contact you once we hear more?”

“Yeah, I’ll set it to the same frequency.” Bruce confirmed before signing off with a click and Jason lifted the face plate of his helmet. “Let’s get to Artemis and then I need to run.” Thankfully, he had all his needed documents for flying already on his person. But would have to have Artemis and Bizarro bring back his other gear when they came back to the states.

“What the Batman say about Birdie?”

“What’s this about Nightwing?” Artemis called out from her spot next to a group of children. A group that held a larger number than Jason had assumed, and it made him want to go put some bullets in skulls.

“He collapsed while on patrol with Robin. They airlifted him to the hospital and B got me a ticket to fly home. I need you two to bring my gear back when you fly back stateside. I have to run,” Jason explained as they got closer to the redhead. The woman looked him over thoughtfully before nodding. Jason removed his helmet the rest of the way and handed it to Bizarro before checking his ID and passport over, zipping his jacket closed to hide the emblem on his chest. The guns and other various weapons went next and Artemis easily placed them on various spots in her gear.

“This is the close of this case. We will be heading stateside within 24 hours. We will contact you as soon as we are in Gotham.” Jason nodded as he handed over the last of the items that would have him flagged on the flight before thanking them both.

“Just go to Birdie.”

Jason stormed through the front doors of Leslie’s, barely containing his strength so he didn’t break anything.

“Jason!” Tim stood from his spot in the corner where he was apparently working on his laptop. “He’s fine!”

“Then why didn’t B say what was wrong? I’ve been waiting for almost half a fucking day, freaking out on a plane and trying not to be arrested for agitation. Where is he?” He didn’t bother waiting for a response, pushing through the doors that led to the back. He had been in this clinic enough times to know his way around.

“Ah Jason, Dick is in here with Bruce and your son,” Leslie waved him over as she stepped into the hallway. “He is fine, Jason. I promise. But he asked to keep the issue between me and him until you arrived and that is why you have not received word. Bruce is, as you can imagine, quite beside himself,” Leslie filled him in as Jason walked quickly toward her and paused at the door. He took a moment to look through the small window to see his husband sitting up in the bed with a smile on his face, their son curled up next to him on the bed. Bruce occupied a chair next to the bed and he certainly looked irritated from the way he held himself.

“Jay,” Dick sighed, smiling at the sight of Jason pushing the door open and coming inside.

“Papa!” James jumped off the bed and bounded over to Jason and immediately Jason picked the boy up into his arms.

“Hey Little Bird,” Jason hugged his son as he walked over to Dick’s bedside. Leaning down, keeping James in his arms, he pressed a kiss to Dick’s lips and took a deep breath. Something about his scent was different. Not bad, and definitely familiar, but different.

“Bruce, James, would you two mind leaving the room for a moment while I have a discussion with Dick and Jason?” Jason watched Bruce scowl, but James let himself be set down and headed for the door, almost like he already knew what Leslie had to say.

“B really, once Jay knows, we’ll tell everyone. Just let me tell my husband,” Dick coaxed Bruce into leaving. The older man sighed, but kept the scowl on as he walked out of the room. Jason shook his head before looking back to Dick and taking his hand.

“What’s wrong? I have been freaking out since Bruce called and I need someone to throw me a bone here.” Dick chuckled and Jason looked at him, ignoring Leslie. If he had to describe the way Dick looked and how he smelled, Jason would say happy. Maybe a little nervous, but definitely happy.

“You might want to sit, Jay,” Dick waved to the chair next to Jason. Though he was suspicious, Jason took the advice and sat in the chair without releasing Dick’s hand. “I’m perfectly healthy, there’s nothing wrong with me.”

“Then why did you collapse on patrol?”

“I’m pregnant.”

Jason’s world came to a halt as he processed the information. Pregnant. But they had decided after James they weren’t going to have another. It had been too hard on Dick’s body. He had been miserable and sick the entire time, bedridden for the majority of the final trimester. And the labor and delivery had been worse. They had almost lost both of them and Dick and Jason had both agreed, James was enough.

“But…” Jason tried to form words, attempting to articulate the mess in his head. “When? How?”

“My last heat, when James spent the week with Dami and Jon?” Jason remembered that. Almost four months ago. He had assumed Dick would be due for a heat when he got back from his mission. “I had that infection before that, and the antibiotics had nullified the suppressants.” Jason looked over to Leslie for confirmation and she just gave him a wide smile, nodding her head.

“But we didn’t know? With James you were sick at a month. You’re how many weeks now?”

“He’s almost eleven weeks,” Leslie finally spoke up and handed over a familiar image. An ultrasound image of the baby in Dick’s womb. Jason carefully took it and stared down at it. “She’s a little on the small side, but all the tests say she’s perfectly healthy.”

Jason’s head shot up to look at her. “She?” He choked out.

“She, Jay. We’re having a daughter and she’s being a hell of a lot nicer than her brother was,” Dick pulled his attention, smiling brightly at Jason. Jason’s turquoise eyes bore into Dick’s sapphire ones for a moment before he surged forward and kissed the other man breathless. He could hear Leslie chuckle before excusing herself from the room.

“I was so fucking scared when I never heard anything about your condition on the plane,” Jason admitted when he pulled back just enough to speak and look into Dick’s eyes again. “But this…god, Dickie. I didn’t even realize I wanted this.”

“Me neither, Little Wing,” Dick admitted as he placed a hand on Jason’s cheek. They had both been okay with just having James. It had been thirteen years since their son was born and neither of them had even mentioned another kid. “We’re never going to hear the end of it, though.” Jason frowned. “I’m almost in my second trimester and neither of us noticed. And now that I know, it’s so obvious that I have no idea how we didn’t realize.”

Jason pulled back as Dick pulled down the blanket that was covering him and tugged up the black t-shirt. And yeah, there was the bump. How they had managed to not notice that was beyond him. Placing a hand on the slight swell, Jason sighed. Now the familiar twist to Dick’s scent made sense.

“We should tell James before everyone else.” And Jason completely agreed. “Go get him?”

“Yeah,” Jason agreed, pressing a kiss to Dick’s stomach and to his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Grinning, Jason pulled back completely and headed to the door to get their son so they could tell him the good news.

#omegadickweek #omega dick grayson #omega nightwing #alpha jason todd #alpha red hood #nightwing #red hood #artemis of bana mighdall #bizarro #red hood and the outlaws #damian wayne #damian wayne is flamebird #jon kent #damijon #tim drake #bruce wayne #batman #batfam

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ssa-lesbian · 5 years ago

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this life is controlled confusion (3/3)

word count: 3.65k words

JJ’s relationship with blood and Emily.

-> read on AO3

I II III

(S6E18, Lauren. Contains descriptions of blood, implied homophobic slur, vague reference to suicide.)

someone will remember us

i say

even in another time

-sappho

—

When Emily codes, her blood is all over JJ.

She thinks it’s her fault, really, when she feels Emily’s hands relax and JJ wants to scream, an unearthly wail begging for her to come back, to make her wake up and smirk at her and tell her, You can’t get rid of me that easily. And then JJ would tell her to shut up and that she was so stupid, and then they would kiss, and then they would come back to Henry, who would shout because they hadn’t seen Auntie Emmy in weeks and he missed her and—

Instead, it catches in her throat, and a paramedic gently shoves her to the side. They say something to the other medic before charging the defibrillator pads and then pressing to Emily’s bloodstained chest, and with a buzz that clenches JJ’s heart, Emily’s body spasms, back arching in an almost beautiful curve before falling back down, the heart monitor still flat.

“Again,” someone murmurs, but JJ can barely make it out, can only stare at the blood still pooling around the brunette, at the stillness in her face in the way her eyes are still shut and her mouth isn’t quirking up in her signature smirk, blood roaring in her ears and covered all over her.

“Emily,” JJ tries saying, but her throat is dry and she only manages a whisper as the pads charge again, and Emily spasms once more before falling back down.

—

She should’ve stayed. Should’ve dropped the Pentagon instead of letting Strauss push her around, damn it. Should’ve told Emily everything.

—

Emily’s blood is sickening. It’s soaked through her blazer and shirt, coating JJ’s hands from where she had covered Emily’s wound, trying somehow to make the blood stop, to somehow bring Emily back, but it just kept running and running, and JJ can’t even wipe her hands because her blood is everywhere and she has to hold her breath because if Emily’s not breathing why should she even bother?

When was the last time she even saw her? Weeks ago, before JJ was sent back to Afghanistan and they lost Nadia and her daughter, when Emily came over and Henry screamed as she picked him up and twirled him around and JJ watched from the doorway with some strange sense of domesticity, like this was always meant to be, with Emily coming home to her and cheering with her son like he was hers and she was hers. They had wine, and as always, whenever Emily came over late at night, they fell asleep together on JJ’s couch, Lilo and Stitch still in her DVD player. Henry woke them up by jumping onto the couch declaring he wanted “Emmy’s pancakes” and Emily laughed as she ruffled his hair and said yes and JJ wanted to grab her face and kiss her—

But then Emily got up to make the pancakes and Hotch called her in for a case, and so they said goodbye over orange juice and syrup, and when they stood at the doorway, hands still locked together, JJ was tempted to not let go, to keep her in her hand forever.

She let go in the end.

Emily comes back with a sharp inhale, eyes flying open in a panic before landing on JJ, and her hand lifts itself limply, weakly. JJ takes it and squeezes.

“Stable. Monitor her heart,” one of the EMTs says.

“I love you,” JJ almost says.

There’s too much of Emily’s blood around her, and so JJ cries instead.

—

Hotch answers right when JJ dials.

“They’re airlifting her to Bethesda,” she says.

“How is she?”

“They think she’s gonna be okay.”

A pause. JJ can make out a muffled whimper in the background, covered by static, and she stares at the cold tile floor. There’s a murmuring from Hotch’s side, and when he comes back, it’s silent.

“We never caught him.”

With a jolt, JJ realizes why they aren’t saying names. Because Doyle’s still out there, because Doyle tracked down all of Emily’s team and slaughtered them silently, because Doyle —

“What do we do?” she whispers.

Another pause, a sigh. JJ thinks she knows what he’s gonna say and prays to whatever God she left behind when she found Roz, but clearly it’s too late.

“Hide her,” Hotch says. “I’ll meet you there.”

—

Penelope brings her a new change of clothes when she arrives at the hospital, handing over her go-bag with glossy eyes and a trembling lip, averting her eyes from JJ. When she sees herself in the bathroom mirror, soaking through in someone else’s blood, she’s caught in a flashback of gentle fingers and a lavender scent. She changes clothes before she loses herself.

Hotch had texted her the instructions, minutes before the others arrived, and JJ knows her lines, knows what she’s supposed to do. And so when she exits the empty operating room, she remembers sitting across from Emily at the breakfast table, chortling as she speared her pancake and made Henry shriek with laughter, all three bathed in warm morning sunlight. She lets her bottom lip wobble, lets the tears pool in her eyes, lets her voice shake as she whispers those final words, dragging an awful scream from Penelope and a torrent of tears from Spence.

—

JJ wonders if they will ever forgive her.

—

When she arrives at the hospital in Bethesda, it’s a quick flash of her badge that gets her to Emily’s room, and it’s when the doctor takes one look at her tearstained face and steps outside that she enters the room. JJ hovers at her bed, staring.

It is so unlike Emily to be this still and pale, but JJ can take it, can take an unmoving, alien Emily in exchange for the lifeless, bloodied one she sat with on the ride in, if it meant this one was breathing.

There’s movement in Emily, aside from the painfully slow rise and fall of her chest: a twitching right hand, fingers quivering and reaching out, and instinctively, JJ laces their fingers together. She exhales when Emily squeezes in response but still startles when she speaks, a low, raspy murmur, barely audible.

“I thought you left me,” she whispers.

“I would never leave you,” JJ says.

Emily exhales. Her eyes don’t open but her eyebrows relax, peace washing over her face as she slips back under the sedative, and JJ wonders if Emily will hate her when she finds out what JJ did to her.

—

At her funeral, Henry asks when Auntie Emmy will come back. No one has the heart to tell him otherwise when JJ ruffles his hair and tells him soon.

—

Strauss gives her two weeks of mourning, two weeks to overcome her grief before coming back to the Pentagon, and so JJ only has two weeks left with Emily before they have to pretend there was never anything in the first place. Which is fine, because she just has to make sure her recovery is going smoothly and she’s taking the correct meds, because that’s all she’s there for.

That’s all I’m there for, JJ reminds herself every time she catches herself staring at Emily for too long, too wrapped up in her perfect accent as Madeleine Badeux orders un express for herself and a café au lait for her ami. Emily’s voice breaks on the last word as she glances at JJ, and JJ can only smile at the polite waiter as they leave and then stare down at her napkin.

Her friend, she muses.

JJ is not stupid. They are not friends, they are not lovers, and in two weeks, they will pretend that Emily Prentiss is no longer there, that the moment Emily Prentiss stepped off that plane, she no longer existed. And Emily knows that, in the way she no longer brushes her fingers against JJ’s, no longer looks at her with the same softness that made JJ’s heart swell.

—

Their days are quiet, spent walking around the city together in silence, hands in their coat pockets as they watch motorcyclists ride by and pedestrians scurry around them before slipping into a random cafe that JJ didn’t even notice but Madeleine treats like a second home, smiling kindly at the old manager before gesturing to JJ, who can only respond with her media liaison smile and a small wave, and they’re seated in the back of the cafe, buried into the dark corner per Madeleine’s strange request.

JJ is not stupid. She knows why.

She also knows that Emily wakes up from night terrors, except she will wake up silently, one eye opening halfway as her breath hitches for a moment before it evens out, and JJ knows that it’s not because she falls back to sleep, but instead because Emily slept with a man who would make sure to rip her to pieces should he ever find out who (what?) she really was, and so she always slept with one eye open.

JJ wonders if Emily knows that she herself never slept. She could blame it on jet lag, laugh as she would fake a yawn and stretch and smile at Emily like she was still half-asleep, but Emily knew her well enough that she would know JJ sees her drowning in her own blood, stake still buried deep inside her.

But they never talked. Only brief questions asking where the other wanted to go, what they wanted to do and what they wanted to eat, and then they’d come back and shower and go to sleep in their separate beds.

JJ tries saying it once their fourth night in Paris when Emily’s in the shower. She sits on the edge of her bed, stares at Emily’s rumpled white sheets, inhales her leftover lavender scent.

“I love you,” she tries.

It catches in her throat, and JJ forces back threatening tears when she passes by Emily to the bathroom. She lets them fall in the shower, turning the heat to scalding hot as she scrubs furiously at her skin.

—

On one of their walks, a passing motorcyclists spits out something so ugly that the other pedestrians lift their heads to stare accusingly, and Emily’s face twists into something so cold, something so harsh, JJ knows it’s Lauren Reynolds as her hand drops to a holster no longer there because she is Madeleine Badeux and not Emily Prentiss, and JJ grabs her hand.

“It’s okay,” she says, even when everyone is whispering and pointing and staring, because Emily’s hand is just as soft as she remembers, and when Emily startles a bit, looking at JJ with familiar eyes, a look she hadn’t seen since she woke up on the plane to Paris, JJ wonders if Emily is back.

But then the walls come crashing back down, eyes turning frosty cold, and she yanks her hand out of JJ’s grasp.

“Yeah,” Emily says, stuffing her hand back in her pocket and beginning to walk again. “Yeah, it’s okay.”

—

The first thing JJ recognizes before coming to fully is lavender, and when her eyes snap open, it’s to Emily hovering over her, a hand on her shoulder, eyes dark with something unreadable.

“Em?” JJ forces out, mouth dry and licking her lips.

Emily’s eyes flicker down before back up to meet her eyes.

“You were having a nightmare,” is her answer.

The silence is enough for JJ to know that Emily knows what kind of nightmare it was, and JJ reaches out. “Em—”

But she’s drawing away already, padding back to her own bed and curling up underneath layers of blankets meant to protect her, and JJ wonders if Emily hears the sob that escapes her.

—

JJ doesn’t go back to sleep. She can stand not seeing Emily’s bloodied body again.

—

“Do you remember,” JJ says, “when we were in Vegas, and you were so hungover you snapped at me for playing one of the pin machines?”

Emily freezes, halfway through a bite of toast with raspberry jam, and when she swallows, it’s with a thick, “Yeah.”

A silence as they chew their breakfast, sitting at another cafe outside and watching the traffic pass by. JJ wonders what they look like to anyone happening to glance under the flower-laced patio. Emily takes a sip of her coffee before asking, “Why?”

It’s the first time she’s bothered following up on anything JJ has said in the past week, and maybe JJ doesn’t hide her smile that well.

“I was thinking,” she says, “I remember the sunlight in the casino. It’s the same here.”

Emily hums. JJ hurries on.

“It’s fine if you don’t remember, you were so hungover,” she says, and Emily chokes on her sip of coffee, rolling her eyes at JJ as she takes a napkin to wipe up the coffee that spilled while JJ laughs, and when she sees the corners of Emily’s mouth curving up, it’s like everything is right again, like they’re in Paris because they wanted to see the sights, like they’re on a vacation, like Emily loves her back—

JJ’s laughter cuts short as she stills, the last thought frozen in her head, and when Emily looks back at her, mouth open in a broad smile, she freezes, and the grin disappears, sliding right off her face.

“Emily—” JJ tries, but the brunette looks away and calls for the cheque, and JJ is quiet as she places a wad of cash on their table, too numb to realize she’s paid in dollar bills and not euros.

—

That evening, they get back to the hotel earlier than usual, and immediately Emily takes the shower, brushing past JJ into the bathroom before shutting the door. JJ stands outside a bit, listening for the sound of the water starting, and when it does, she goes to her bed and takes out her flip phone, a model she probably had when she was in college, its ID saying it belonged to a Rachel Jolibois, and a text from an unknown number: Call me.

She hits Dial, and a second later, the call connects.

“How is she?” Hotch asks.

JJ wonders if he ever slept nowadays. Assigned all the way to Pakistan, leaving Jack alone with Jessica for weeks at a time, too many demons piled up in his head to find rest anywhere. It had to be near midnight there.

“I can’t get to her, Hotch,” she whispers, and her voice threatens to break.

A pause. He probably knows, JJ thinks dully, probably has known since the beginning, that JJ is a useless disaster and has been ogling Emily enough times in the field that how could he not know?

“You have one more week,” he says at last, and JJ nods before remembering he can’t see her.

“I know,” she says, “I just— ”

She frowns. Something’s not right. The apartment is too silent, and when she looks up, she realizes the shower’s not running.

“I have to go,” she says into her phone, and she turns it off before throwing it onto the bed, almost sprinting to the bathroom door. She knocks once, then —

“Emily?” JJ calls, heart stuttering as she knocks again, and when there’s no response, she starts pounding on the door.

“Emily!” she begins shouting, and as the seconds tick by as she pounds on the door, JJ remembers the coldness in the brunette’s eyes in the past few days and wonders again if she should’ve done something more, if she lost her again right in front of her—

“Emily!” she shouts one more time, and suddenly the door flies open to a very wet, hostile, towel-wrapped Emily.

“What?” she snaps. “Can’t a girl take a bath without anyone bothering?”

And suddenly it’s hard for JJ to breathe, not because Emily isn’t wearing anything and is gripping the towel that’s clearly been hastily wrapped around her, but because Emily is standing in front of her and she’s clean and not —

“I thought,” JJ says, and suddenly she feels very stupid and small and her voice is too thick, “I thought you— I didn’t hear any water.”

Emily backs down, eyes softening a bit.

“I wanted to take a bath,” she says.

JJ nods. They stare at each other, locked in a standstill, and JJ reaches out to try and find something familiar, but Emily recoils like she’s poison.

“Is that all?” she asks. “Can I go back to my bath?”

And JJ remembers Emily standing in another motel bathroom, wrapping new bandages around her torn arm, and she remembers how warm Emily’s body was pressed tightly against hers, wrapped up together on the couch in front of JJ’s TV, and she remembers how loud Henry laughed as they sat eating breakfast together, Emily glowing radiantly in the morning sunlight, and it all boils over.

“Don’t do that,” she snaps, and Emily’s eyes narrow.

“Do what?” she spits.

“You know what,” JJ says, gesturing with her hand. “Why are you so cold all of a sudden? Why do you just keep pushing me away?”

“ I’m pushing you away?” Emily demands. “I have no one left because of you!”

And it stings. Because she’s right. Because JJ did take her away from everyone she could’ve known and loved, and this is what it all comes down to. That JJ failed her. That JJ let her down. But she deflates immediately; she knows this cold, angry beast isn’t her Emily, not the same Emily who held her during her nightmares and laced their fingers together under the BAU conference table, not the same Emily she—

“What was I supposed to do?” JJ asks, voice cracking.

“Anything, literally anything,” Emily says. “You could’ve found him, you could’ve hunted him down, you could’ve let me die— ”

“This was the only way, Morgan’s already hunting Doyle back home. As long as everyone thinks you’re dead, you’ll be safe.”

“And what if you never catch him?” Emily asks. “What if I’ll never be safe?”

“You think I’d let that happen to you?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“Because I love you, you— ”

It comes out much louder than JJ expects, hands flying up to cover her mouth as she stares at Emily, pale and wide-eyed. That wasn’t supposed to happen, she knows, she wasn’t supposed to say that, wasn’t supposed to—

Now that she’s said it out loud, it’s like the world is collapsing. Like everything is falling apart. And from the way Emily is looking at her, like she’s a ghost, there’s no coming back from this.

“Because I love you, you idiot,” JJ whispers. “I would never let him get to you. Ever.”

And Emily keeps staring at her, mouth still open in a little “o,” not unlike the one she would have when JJ woke up first and Emily was still asleep, JJ's head tucked under her chin, and JJ forces out a choked laugh, tears threatening to spill.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “Go finish your bath.”

Emily unfreezes and reaches out, but JJ’s already turned away and stalking back to her bed, to pick up her phone and pack up her clothes because did any of it matter?

“JJ,” she hears, but she closes her eyes before picking up her phone from her bed, and then directly behind her is—

“JJ, I’m sorry.”

JJ doesn’t move, only facing the wall, determined to not let Emily see the tears forming. There’s a sharp inhale, and then a bare whisper.

“I love you too.”

JJ stiffens, heart racing and light-headed. Emily continues, stumbling over her words.

“I just— I thought— I didn’t think it could happen.”

JJ turns around, and Emily stills, all of her hostility gone and in its place a kind of vulnerability, a nakedness akin to the one JJ saw in her eyes over a year ago, on the couch watching Lilo and Stitch .

“You love me?” JJ whispers.

Emily nods without hesitation.

“I love you,” she says, and her mouth opens to say something else that JJ doesn’t hear because she surges forward and pulls Emily into a kiss.

Emily tastes just how JJ thought she would: sweet, lovely, and so incredibly familiar. She tilts her head, angles Emily’s with her hands cupped on her cheeks so that their lips are slotted against each other perfectly, and Emily’s hands tangle in her hair to try and bring them even closer together, as if she’s making up for the lost four years they could’ve had, and all JJ can think about is how soft her lips are and how perfectly they fit against each other, and forget oxygen, JJ could live off of this alone, the taste of Emily in her mouth and the feeling of her every curve and the way they melt into each other, and when they break apart, Emily’s pupils are blown, a rosy flush on her cheeks and creeping down her body, and for some reason, it just feels so right.

“Stay with me,” Emily says.

JJ presses her forehead against hers, closing her eyes and letting the tears fall as she breaks into a smile, giddy on the taste of Emily, and when she opens them, she’s met with the familiar smokey brown eyes of Emily, the same tender smile she’s known like second nature for the past few years, and JJ breathes out her answer.

“Always.”

#i wrote this at 5am what is UP #anddd we're done heehee #thank u to everyone's feedback!!! yall are precious xoxo #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #jemily #jj x emily #emily x jj #queerminal minds #jemily fanfic #jemily fanfiction #my art #jj #jennifer jareau #jennifer jj jareau #emily prentiss #tlicc

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crackedoutgiraffe · 5 years ago

Text

To the Moon and Back

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

A/N: Chapter 10

Your POV

There was a distinctive smell that hospitals had. The only way you could describe it was clean. You had always hated hospitals. All that hospitals meant for you was that someone is dying.

“Oh my god,” your throat was sore and you could hear how hoarse your voice was. When you opened your eyes Spencer was staring at you, he looked like a deer in the headlights.

“Let me get the nurse,” you heard Spencer’s voice, he seemed worried.

You reached out and grabbed his arm before he could walk away, “Stay,” you let go of his arm realizing what you had done, “please.” You tried to sit up but it hurt too much. Like a wave, the memories of that night hit you all at once, “Are you okay, did he shoot you?”

“How can you do that?” Spencer asked out of nowhere.

“Do what?” Why was he being so mean to you? He’d kissed you a little while earlier and now he’s an asshole.

“You got shot, you were dying in my arms, the doctor said you might not even wake up,” He put his hand on yours, “and you’re worried about me. Why?”

“How long have I been out?” You pulled your hand away.

“3 days,” he stood up and headed for the door.

“Where are we?” given the fact that you were shot in LA, there should be palm trees outside your window, not snow.

“We had you airlifted back to DC,” he looked guilty. “I’m going to get the nurse.”

He left to do as he said. He and the nurse came back a few minutes later. She performed a few tests on you and then left.

“You should get some rest,” Reid grabbed his jacket from the chair in the corner.

“I’m sorry,” you flipped from your back to your right side. Away from the door, toward the window. It was snowing, it looked so soft. You heard Reid moving around, but couldn’t tell what he was doing. He walked over toward the window and knelt in front of your face. He started to brush down some of your hair with his hands. He kissed your forehead before standing up and leaving. A tear rolled down your cheek, all you could do was stare out the window.

You don’t remember when you started sobbing. It was one of the longest nights of your life. Everything melded together. The nurse brought you food, but you didn’t eat it. You eventually fell asleep, but all you could think about was Spencer and the team. There was a pit in your stomach. As a child, you’d always had trouble naming your feelings, but right now you knew exactly what you felt. Anger. There was a beast inside of you all it wanted to do was escape. You wanted to hit something or throw something. You wanted to scream at the top of your lungs. You may have known what you were feeling but you couldn’t tell why you were so angry.

Finally, the morning came. You couldn’t stand to sit in silence anymore. Spencer showed up around 10. When he walked in, you realized what made you so angry. It was him, he was the reason you cried yourself to sleep last night.

“Please leave,” you were still facing the window, but anyone could tell that you were angry just by the tone of your voice.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” He sat at the foot of your bed, setting the muffin he had brought you on the table at the end of the bed.

“I cried myself to sleep last night, Spencer,” you turned to face him, the stains of last night’s tears still on your face. You had run through all sorts of scenarios for how this would end, but you were shocked when he pulled the blankets back and laid next to you. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled the covers back up. He held you for an hour before you finally spoke up, “What happened in there?”

“Where?” he pulled back a bit so he could see your face.

“In the unsub’s basement,” you put your head back on his chest. “I thought Hotch said you couldn’t carry a gun.”

“He did, but that wasn’t the truth,” he rested his chin on your head. “We decided that since you hadn’t been undercover before that if you didn’t know the whole plan, I could do my job better. Hotch had me keep a gun under my shirt in the back. He also gave me some kevlar string. What wasn’t part of the plan was you getting shot. He didn’t profile as going to shoot the female victim. When he locked us in the basement, I started to use the kevlar string to basically saw my way out of the zip-ties. I didn’t get free until he had the gun pointed at you. By then I grabbed the gun from under my shirt, and I shot him. I’m sorry, we had to keep you in the dark if we were going to apprehend him.”

“Where did you shoot him?”

“In the head, but I was aiming for his leg,” he chuckled.

“What happened after that?” It made sense why they didn’t tell you he had a gun, but you would’ve liked to know.

“Luckily, Rossi saw the valet take us so they had Garcia find his name. We weren’t on his property so it took them longer to find us. We were at one of his father’s construction sites,” his voice was so calming.

“Thank you,” you started to cry in his arms. There wasn’t much he could do to help you. The snow had turned to rain, pounding against your window. For the next few hours, you cried in his arms listening to the rain before falling asleep.

When you woke up the next morning, he was still holding you. He hadn’t moved all night. The nurse came in the morning to tell you that you were able to leave later that day. Spencer woke up an hour later. You told him the good news, and he helped you pack up some of the things that Garcia had brought to make you feel more at home. You signed all of the necessary papers and left the hospital. Spencer helped you to his car and he drove you to your apartment but not before stopping at the BAU to grab some work. When you finally got back to your apartment, you expected him to leave, but instead, he walked you to your bed and helped you lay down before going to get you and him some coffee. The anger that had built up inside you felt different. You realized that the anger had turned to love, and you couldn’t wish for it to be anything else.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fic

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sphericaldice · 5 years ago

Text

Not Him Too

(>^o^)> Ao3 <(^o^<)

Summary: Written for the Phoenix Wright Kink Meme. On 2019-11-04 Anon writes: "The police mount a raid on a big drug den/criminal organisation. During the aftermath, Edgeworth hears the words "detective" "shot" and "ICU" and tears down to the hospital on the verge of a panic attack, sure that it's Gumshoe.He almost collapses when he finds Gumshoe alive and well.Bonus if Gumshoe has the other detective's blood on him and Edgeworth thinks it's his at first."

Author’s Comments: Itonokoruji isn't my main ship but I think it's sweet and I was more than willing to write for it! Also I hope you enjoyed my little punny name for the criminal :) If you like what I write consider reblogging and checking out my Ao3.

***

Miles Edgeworth took in the disarray of the crime scene as he pulled up to the base of the city’s most esteemed drug lords, Anita Ficks, affectionately dubbed “The Heroine of Heroin” by her associates. Cop cars lined the street, their sirens wailing, shrill and macabre. Two ambulances obscured the road and Edgeworth observed policemen and paramedics conversing, their visages grave. Drug raids were not uncommon, this was Los Angeles after all, but this afternoon proved to be particularly grisly -- Ficks and her cronies did not take kindly to being served a search warrant.

The apprehensive, young prosecutor parked his red Crysler behind a police car packed with three battered and disgruntled goons and stepped out into the frigid downpour. He reached into his magenta suit pocket for his state-appointed prosecutor’s badge, (he preferred to safely stow it away instead of parading the thing around like a certain sanctimonious someone) the swampy ground beneath him splished beneath his leather shoes as he made his way across the soaked lawn. Edgeworth spotted the Chief Detective on the porch of the ill-fated, saltbox house, the middle-aged man’s back was turned to the chaos and he appeared to be on the phone. Edgeworth noticed his hands begin to sweat as he approached the Chief, and his stomach grew inexplicably tight. What is this foreboding feeling? Get a grip, Miles, you encounter death all the time…

The Chief failed to turn around, even when Edgeworth reached the steps, too engrossed in his call. Getting impatient, Miles prepared his badge for identification and cleared his throat.

“Miles Edgeworth, Criminal Prosecutor --” He bit his tongue as soon as his ears caught the Chief’s words.

“Yea...yea...got airlifted twenty minutes ago, straight to the ICU...shot right in the chest...my best detective…”

The Prosecutor froze mid-step, his legs suddenly rendered to spaghetti. He hastily grasped the damp, splintery railing to stop himself from completely falling down the stairs, allowing his badge to fall to the mud. His knee met the top step, putting him in an awkward lunging position. Suddenly it was as though the earth was spinning. Worse than any earthquake.

This can’t be real...No...No...

The Chief Detective whirled around, startled. “P-Prosecutor Edgeworth!? Christ!”

Anything the Chief said after that, Edgeworth did not hear. Not over the sound of his head pounding, not over the frenzied beating of his heart in his stomach, not over the sensation of hot bile rising in his throat. He sat on the steps and let the rain pelt down on him.

No...No...No..No...Please...Not him too….

It was the bark of a paramedic that interrupted the man’s shock

“Hey! Outta the way!”

Two EMTs bustled past the wet, crumpled, prosecutor hauling a bright yellow gurney. At that moment Edgeworth’s warm-grey eyes locked with the bloodshot, beads of the odious woman atop the stretcher.

“I gave ‘em what was coming! I hope that fucking pig rots in hell!”

Anita Ficks spat at him, her saliva bloody from the wound she sustained. It felt like acid against Edgeworth’s cheek.

At least he’d been brought back to reality. At once, Edgeworth rose, scooped up his badge and sprinted across the lawn, mud splashing on his magenta suit with each footfall. He flung the car door open and hurled himself inside, not bothering to fasten his buckle as he speeds away to the hospital.

This isn’t happening...You can’t take him too...No...Please...Please

Edgeworth uncharacteristically neglected to wipe his mud-caked shoes as he tore through the hospital door. He slammed his fist on the reception counter as if it were a courtroom desk, barely getting the attention of the spaced-out gentleman in front of him.

“I need to see a patient immediately!”

“Hmm ah...yes...one of my patients.”

“Detective Dick Gumshoe! Take me to him right this instant, please!”

“Hmmm...Hoh hoh, Dick...not a lady’s name...yes, no patient called Dick here.”

To Edgeworth’s dismay, the tears were beginning to form and could feel his legs giving away again. “What!? Don’t joke with me, cretin, by god I will rip that pathetic, pink tuft right off your head-”

“Hey, pal, you lookin’ for me?”

Miles Edgeworth was unable to stop the tears when he turned to face the source of that sweet voice. Sitting in a too-small waiting room chair was his scruffy, huggable, ramen loving companion, his drab overcoat covered in blood. The overwhelmed prosecutor practically flew into the detective’s outstretched arms and the crocodile tears flowed.

“Detective!” He felt around Gumshoe’s blood-drenched front, “heavens are you hurt?”

The Detective chuckled. “Nah, pal. Got a bit of Angel’s mess on me when I carried her out of there. Doc says she’ll be alright though, It’ll take more than a lousy bullet to get rid of the Cough Up Queen! Doc’s taken quite a liking to her actually…”

“Thank god…” Thoroughly exhausted he let himself go limp in Gumshoe’s embrace. He rests his head against the man’s broad chest, not caring about the blood, just relieved to hear his friend’s heart beating. “You don’t know how worried I was, detective.”

The scruffy man shook his head. “Jeez pal, have some more faith in me, will ya?”

“Hmm, yes...Hoh hoh, how romantic...hmm”

Edgeworth knew that creepy clinic director was eavesdropping behind them, but didn’t care. Dick was all that mattered and Dick was okay. “Dick...Don’t leave me…” He whispered drowsily.

Gumshoe stroked the young man’s wet, silver hair and sighed. “Never, pal. Never.”

#ace attorney #Gumworth #dick gumshoe #miles edgeworth #phoenix wright kink meme #fanfiction #oneshot #mild angst

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angelsandacceptance · 4 years ago

Text

Are You There God? It’s Me, Dean Winchester

Harley and Chase sit at the table, a pile of books between them. They’re listening to Dean argue with Sam about Castiel as they research angels.

“What else could it be, Dean?” Sam asks.

“Look, all I know is that I was not groped by an angel.”

“Okay, look, Dean. Why would Castiel lie to you about it?”

“Maybe he’s a demon,” Dean says. “Demons lie.”

Chase rolls her eyes. Even Bobby looks up from his book.

“Yeah, a demon who’s immune to salt rounds, devil’s traps. And let’s not forget Ruby’s knife,” Harley says sarcastically.

“Not helping,” Dean says gruffly.

“Harley’s right,” Chase says. “Even Lilith is scared of that knife.”

“Don’t you think that if angels were real, that some hunter somewhere would have seen one? At some point? Ever?” Dean counters.

“Yeah, Dean. A hunter has. The three of us just did,” Chase says.

“Maybe they were laying low in heaven? It’s crazy I know, but so is everything else in our lives,” Harley adds.

“I’m just trying to think of a theory,” Dean says, trying to defend himself.

“We have a theory,” Sam says.

“Yeah, well, one with a little less fairy dust on it, please.”

“Okay, look, I’m not saying we know for certain. I’m just saying that I think we-”

“Okay, okay, but that’s the point. We don’t know for sure, so I’m not gonna believe that it’s a freaking Angel of the Lord just because it says so!”

“You four chuckleheads want to keep arguing religion, or do you want to come take a look at this?” Bobby asks, pointing at a lore book.

They all look at Bobby.

“I’ve got stacks of lore - some biblical, some pre-biblical. Damn, some of it is in cuneiform. It all says that angels can snatch a soul from the pit.”

“All the books I’ve read say that too,” Chase adds, setting her current book down.

“What else?” Dean asks.

“What else, what?” Bobby replies.

“What else could do it?”

“Airlift your ass out of the hot box? As far as I can tell, nothing.”

“Dean, this is good news.” Sam says.

“How?”

“Because for once, this isn't just another round of demon crap. I mean, maybe you were saved by one of the good guys, you know?”

“Okay. Say it's true. Say there are angels. Then what? There's a God?”

“At this point, Vegas money's on yeah.” Bobby says.

“I don't know, guys,” Dean says, reluctant to admit any of it true.

“Okay, look. I know you're not all choirboy about this stuff, but this is becoming less and less about faith and more and more about proof.” Sam says, trying to convince him.

“Proof?”

“Yes Dean, it’s this thing where you have evidence of something and it’s staring you right in the face.” Harley adds sarcastically.

“But why me? If there is a God out there, why would he give a crap about me?”

“Because you're amazing and fantastic.”

“I mean, I've saved some people, okay? I figured that made up for the stealing and the ditching chicks. But why do I deserve to get saved? I'm just a regular guy.”

“Apparently, you're a regular guy that's important to the man upstairs,” Sam says.

“Well, that creeps me out. I mean, I don't like getting singled out at birthday parties, much less by... God.”

“Okay, well, too bad, Dean, because I think he wants you to strap on your party hat,” Sam jokes.

Chase laughs slightly at the joke, remembering the year Dean got birthday hats for Sam and her, as well as himself for her thirteenth birthday.

“Fine,” Dean concedes. “What do we know about angels?”

Bobby hands him a book. “Start reading.”

“You're gonna get me some pie,” Dean says, turning to Sam.

“Ooo! Me too!” Harley pipes up.

“You know I always am up for pie!” Chase adds.

Sam rolls his eyes, but can’t fight the smile on his face.

***

Sam pulls up to Bobby’s house. He forgot the pie. Bobby walks to the car window and tells Sam to keep the car running because Olivia Lowry hasn’t been answering her phone.

“Olivia Lowry.. a hunter, right?” Sam asks.

“Yeah. We're gonna go check on her. You guys follow me.” Bobby replies, before heading to his own car.

Harley and Dean walk over to the Impala. Dean to get in and Harley to retrieve her pie.

“Dude, where’s the pie?” Harley says after peering into the car.

“I forgot it. Sorry,”

“Dammit, Sammy.” Dean says, realizing that there’s no pie.

Harley walks away towards the Lincoln. “Sam forgot the pie,” she sighs, getting into the passenger side.

Chase scoffs, starting the Lincoln. “‘When do I ever forget the pie?’ he says. Well, now, apparently. Just as I was getting hungry too.”

“So that angel, bit weird. I mean who says ‘perdition’?” Harley says starting the flow of conversation to take them to the next state over.

“We meet an actual, legitimate, awesome looking angel, and you decide to focus on his vocabulary before anything else?” Chase asks. She laughs, trying to keep her eyes on the road. “You are so lucky I love you, because you have some weird ass priorities.”

“Aww, love you too. But seriously it was weird and I stand by that. No one uses ‘perdition’ anymore. If they ever did, and he wasn’t really that awesome looking. He just kinda looked normal. Bit tax accountant-ish.”

Chase turns a bright red. She constantly does this. “I didn’t mean like, you know, good looking. I just meant like awesome. Like, I dunno, cool I guess. You know, the wing thing was pretty wicked. Plus his eyes are really blue. Kinda eerie looking. Though you are kinda right about the accountant thing. The trenchcoat was a bit much,” Chase laughs.

“So how blue are his eyes exactly?” Harley teases.

“Well, you know, just. Blue? A very crystal-y blue.”

“Aquamarine?”

“Well, no. More sky-blue. Like powder blue but crystalized.”

“You think he’s cute. No one pays that much attention to someone’s eyes unless they fancy them.”

“That’s so not true! What color are Dean’s eyes?” Chase demands.

“Green, I think? Dunno?”

“Uh huh, you ‘think’,” Chase scoffs.

“I’d have to look at them again. I think Sam’s are green too though.”

“Okay,” Chase starts, sparing a glance at Harley. “Now I can’t tell if you’re just trying to make me believe that you don’t know my brother’s eye color, or if you genuinely don’t pay attention.”

“I just genuinely don’t pay attention because I don’t fancy either of them.”

“Well, just because I’m a little less oblivious than you, though not by much, doesn’t mean I fancy some guy who may or may not be trying to screw us over. If any of the Winchester’s are going to do that, it’s gonna be Sam.”

“Okay fair point, but you don’t have to trust someone to think they’re cute.”

“Fair,” Chase relents. “But I wouldn’t say cute. His eyes are just cool. But I also have a weird fascination with eyes, which you already know about so I don’t know why you’re teasing me. Is this just to get back at me for the Dean thing?”

“Maybe? Who knows?”

Chase rolls her eyes. “I think I know.”

“Excuse you? I am an enigma.”

Chase laughs, shrugging off her best friend’s odd ways. “That is one of the truest statements.”

“I mean I only ever speak the truth, except for when I lie of course. Then I’m lying.”

***

Bobby enters Olivia’s house first closely followed by the rest of the younger hunters.

“Olivia?” Bobby calls.

Dean motions for Chase and Harley to go one way, while they search another part of the house. Chase nods and follows Harley, who is sporting her usual gun, while covering her by sweeping her gun across the room, looking for any movement.

While looking for movement, however, Chase misses that Harley had stopped. She bumps into her.

“What is it?” Chase asks, following Harley’s gaze. A woman’s body lays on the ground, covered in blood, quite literally torn into. Grimacing, she turns back to the hall. “Guys! We found her!”

The three other hunters come into the room. Sam’s the first to point out the line of salt at the doorway. They all started looking around the room. Dean walked over to Olivia’s weapon store and picked up an out of place EMF meter, “Olivia was rocking the EMF meter.”

“So a brutal ghost.” Harley comments on the state of the body.

“Yeah. I never seen a ghost do this to a person.” Dean says.

Bobby had left unnoticed while the younger hunters were talking and had just come back in the room with a worried expression on his face.

“Bobby, you all right?” Dean asks.

“I called some hunters nearby,” Bobby hesitated towards the end.

“Great,” Chase says. “We’ll probably need help with this one.”

“Except they ain't answering their phones either.”

“Well that’s fantastic.” Harley says, her voice dripping in sarcasm.

“Something's up, huh?” Sam asks.

“No shit, Sherlock.”

***

They made a stop at an empty gas station. Harley went in to retrieve a couple of pies.

“You replaced me,” Harley turned around to see her dead best friend Adina. She was the reason Harley started hunting. A werewolf got her. She had to put a silver bullet she got on Amazon in it. “You let me die, and then you replaced me!”

“I could never replace you.”

“You already did.”

“Adina love. You were like a daughter to me. You still are.”

“You watched as that thing ripped me apart!”

“I couldn’t get to you in time. I tried. I really really tried,” A single tear ran down Harley’s cheek. “I killed it. It’s my fault it was even there. It was because of what I am. It could smell it on me. I’m so so sorry. I love you so much.”

“Now you get to know what it feels like to have your heart ripped out,” Adina stalked closer to Harley who was backing up towards the door. She tumbled out the door of the gas station and fell to the ground.

***

Chase sits in the Lincoln, her music quietly playing in the background as she scans a book about ghost activity. She fidgets with her iron pocket knife, a nervous tic she has.

“Miss me?” A male voice asks. Chase whirls to look at whoever the Hell managed to get into her car undetected. Her ex-best friend stares back at her, unconcerned about the knife pointed at him. “I knew you would. I told you the last time we talked. You were going to miss me.”

Chase stares in horror, eyes wide as she takes in his appearance. He looked the same as he did in college, right before the accident. His blonde hair sticks up wildly, and his smile is painted on his face the way it always was; like he knew something you didn’t.

As if snapping out of paralysis, her body responds of its own accord while her mind stays as blank as before. She quickly jabs the knife through his body, already exiting the car as his body is reappearing outside of it. She runs in the direction of the gas station, hoping to find Harley alright, before she skids to a stop, avoiding running into him.

“Nathaniel, please, stop,” Chase says, her voice shaking. His image starts to flicker, flashing from normal to when he’d died.

“Why should I?” He asks harshly, water dripping down his body in quick streams. His normally blue eyes are white, his skin holding a sickly blue-green tint. “You used me for information and then abandoned me to die, as soon as I wasn’t convenient.”

“Nathaniel, I tried to save you! I tried so hard! I did everything I could.” Chase backs up slowly, fearing the anger radiating off of his ghostly apparition. Pulling out a pistol from behind her, where she’d kept it tucked in her jeans upon discovering the high EMF levels, she takes a breath, looking at him.

She aims it at him, only for him to disappear when she shoots. Cursing, she keeps the pocket knife at eye level, the gun straight out in front of her as she sweeps the area.

“I never forgave you, you know.”

Chase freezes, feeling the cold chill from behind her.

“I know I said, as I was about to be dragged into the water, that I forgave you. That I believed you. That you actually loved me. But I didn’t. I died, blaming you.”

Tears start to burn in Chase’s eyes. “I did care about you. I did love you. I never used you,” she says rapidly, trying to justify herself. “I know it was my fault you died. If I’d discovered that stupid bitch earlier. If I’d done what I promised, you’d still be here.”

“But you didn’t! You didn’t find her fast enough because you just didn’t actually care!” Nathaniel shouts, his voice echoing in Chase’s ears.

Chase spins on her heel and fires, shooting Nathaniel in the chest. He disappears and doesn’t reappear.

Taking a few steady breaths, Chase rushes to the gas station just in time for Harley to fall through the door, the glass shattering around her.

Looking up and seeing a girl with brown and neon green hair standing above her.

“Adina, come on it’s me, Harley!” she shouts, crying. “I love you!”

Chase shoots and Adina disappears. Harley slowly got up wiping away her tears. “Thanks, Chase. I just couldn’t bring myself to hurt her. Even if she is dead.”

“No, I-” Chase takes a deep breath and then speaks again. “I get it. You missed, uh, Nathaniel was here.” Chase had told Harley a while back about her ex-best friend who’d died from drowning. A witch had been going after the swim team of the college to get back at the coach.

Chase shakes her head, holding out her hand to help Harley to her feet. “C’mon. Let’s get back to the others.”

“Hopefully they’re having a better time,” Harley smiles, not a genuine smile more so for show. Unfortunately they weren't, not that the two girls knew.

***

Chase and Harley sit in the kitchen, flipping through lore and eating pie. The boys had gone down the hall to discuss their events with different ghosts. Bobby comes through the kitchen, the boys hot on his tail. He looks to the girls, points at them, then down the hall.

“Follow me.”

Casting a confused glance towards each other, they get up and follow Bobby.

“Okay, where are we going?” Sam asks, confused.

Chase nods, “Yeah, that’s a great question.”

“Some safe place, you idiots,” Bobby says.

Bobby grabs a few books off a shelf, hands them to Harley, and then leads them down into a basement.

“Is this…” Sam trails off, gazing at an iron door.

“Solid iron,” Bobby says. “Completely coated in salt. One hundred percent ghost proof.”

Chase whistles.

“You built a panic room?” Sam asks in disbelief.

Bobby shrugs. “I had a weekend off.”

“Bobby,” Harley says, nodding, impressed.

“What?”

“You’re awesome,” Dean says.

***

Each hunter works on something individually from within the panic room. Sam and Dean are making salt bullets in iron casing, while Chase, Bobby, and Harley read up on the symbol the others had seen on the ghosts. Chase fiddles with her pocket knife, sharpening it slowly as she reads. Harley is tapping her fingers on the spine of her book.

“See, this is why I can’t get behind God.”

The others turn to look at Dean, who hasn’t averted his gaze from his work.

“What are you talking about?” Sam asks.

“If he doesn't exist, fine. Bad crap happens to good people. That's how it is. There's no rhyme or reason -- just random, horrible, evil -- I get it, okay. I can roll with that. But if he is out there, what's wrong with him? Where the hell is he while all these decent people are getting torn to shreds? How does he live with himself? You know, why doesn't he help?”

“Just because he’s God, doesn’t mean he has to care. If you were God, how long would it take before you got desensitised to it all?” Chase says.

“I ain’t touching this one with a ten-foot pole,” Bobby says.

“Yeah,” Dean says bluntly.

“Found it,” Bobby says, getting up from the table.

“Found what,” Sam asks.

Chase rolls her eyes. “I dunno, maybe the symbol we’ve been looking for for the past hour and a half?” she asks sarcastically.

“The symbol you saw, it’s called the Mark of the Witness,” Bobby says.

“Witness? Witness to what?” Sam asks.

“The unnatural. None of them died what you'd call ordinary deaths. See, these ghosts -- they were forced to rise. They woke up in agony. They were like rabid dogs. It ain't their fault. Someone rose them... on purpose.”

“Who?”

“Do I look like I know? But whoever it was used a spell so powerful it left a mark, a brand on their souls. Whoever did this had big plans. It's called ‘the rising of the witnesses.’ It figures into an ancient prophecy.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Dean says. “What book is this prophecy from?”

“Well, the widely distributed version's just for tourists, you know. But long story short -- Revelations. This is a sign, guys.”

“Sign of what?” All four younger hunters chorus.

“The apocalypse.”

“Apocalypse? The apocalypse, apocalypse? The four horsemen, pestilence, $5-a-gallon-gas apocalypse?” Dean asks.

“That’s the one,” Bobby says. “The rise of the witnesses is a mile-marker.”

“That’s insane,” Chase says.

“Of course the world is ending in our lifetime.” Harley groans.

“Okay, so, what do we do now?” Sam asks, confused.

“Road trip. Grand Canyon, Star Trek Experience. Bunny Ranch.” Dean jokes, going to sit down again.

“First things first. How about we survive our friends out there?” Bobby says.

“Great. Any ideas aside from staying in this room until Judgment Day?” Dean asks.

“It’s a spell,” Bobby points at a piece of paper, “to send the witnesses back to rest. Should work.”

“Should. Great.” Sam says, disappointed.

“It’s a shot. Better than nothing.” Harley adds.

“Yeah. Let’s just hope we can stand their taunting long enough to do it,” Chase mutters.

“If I translate it correctly, I should have everything here at the house,” Bobby continues.

“If. I don’t like that word,” Chase says. “But sure. Better this than being stuck here with you guys indefinitely.”

“Oh, you’re still gonna be stuck with me indefinitely.” Harley jokes.

“Any chance you got everything we need here in this room?” Dean asks.

“When have we ever been that lucky?”

“Spell's got to be cast over an open fire.” Bobby mentions.

“The fireplace in the library.” Sam says.

“Can’t we just start a fire in here? The floor’s concrete,” Harley points out.

“True,” Chase says. “But, there isn’t anything here we can burn. All of these books are way too important to our jobs.”

“So the library,” Sam says.

“Bingo,” Bobby says. He starts to grab the salt bullets and hand them out to us. Chase, Sam, and Harley load their guns.

“That just doesn’t sound as appealing as, say, a ghost-proof panic room,” Dean tries arguing once more. He is ignored.

“Cover each other,” Bobby says, about to open the door. “And aim careful. Don’t run out of ammo until I’m done, or they’ll shred you. Ready?”

“Right, don’t run out of ammo,” Chase says sarcastically. “Maybe they’ll even refrain from attacking us if we tell them we’re getting low.”

Bobby gives her a pointed look, opening the door. “Just be careful.”

They all slowly exit the bunker, weapons raised, carefully scanning the room as they proceed to the stairs.

They pause, seeing a man in his early twenties sitting there. “Hey, Dean,” he says. “Remember me?”

Dean pauses before nodding. “Ronald, huh? With the laser eyes. I wish I could say it’s good to see you.”

“I’m dead because of you,” the ghost - Ronald - says, suddenly angry. “You were supposed to help me!”

A bang goes off, and everyone turns to see Bobby with his gun still aimed at where Ronald had been. “If you’re gonna shoot, shoot. Don’t talk.”

Everyone then makes their way to the living room with caution. Sam makes a salt circle while Dean starts the fire. Chase and Harley scan the room, ready to shoot at a moment’s notice.

“Upstairs,” Bobby says to Sam. “linen closet - red hex box. It’ll be heavy.”

“Got it.” Sam leaves as two girls reappear in the living room, focusing solely on Bobby.

“Bobby,” one of the girls starts. Chase shoots.

“Dean, in the kitchen. Cutlery drawer has a false bottom. Hemlock, opium, wormwood.”

“Opium?” Dean asks.

“Go!” Harley shouts at him. Dean rushes out.

The girls reappear. Bobby tries to ignore them as he draws with chalk on the desk. Harley and Chase don’t shoot just yet, taking caution with the number of bullets they each have.

“You walked right by us when that monster ate us all up.”

“You could have saved us.”

Harley and Chase both shoot one of the girls. Bobby continues to focus on his task.

“You know what I hate most?” Chase asks, the girls reappearing, but farther away. “When there are two little girls. Why is it the creepiest when there are two?”

She shoots.

The door to the kitchen closes suddenly, and the three of them snap to attention.

“Dean?” Harley calls out.

“I’m fine!” They let out a breath at hearing Dean. “Keep working, guys!”

They boys rush back into the living room, reloading their guns once they put the stuff down.

Ronald reappears.

“Ronald, hey, come on. I thought we were pals,” Dean laughs.

“That’s when I was still alive. Now, I want to eat you alive.”

“Well, I’m not a cheeseburger.” He shoots, but Ronald is already gone.

A college-aged girl with black hair appears in front of Chase. “Faith.”

Faith stares at Chase in melancholy. “You left me there, C. I thought we were going to do it together. You were supposed to be there that day. Why didn’t you show up?”

Chase shoots, blinking away tears.

Bobby recites some Latin words and the windows blow open and a wind fills the room. The wind moves the salt so they are no longer protected by it. Meg appears and Sam quickly shoots at her, as Bobby continues to recite the spell.

Ronald appears and they shoot at him. Sam and Dean continue to fire as the ghosts appear. Henriksen knocks Dean’s gun out of his hands when he is reloading, and approaches him. Dean grabs another gun, and shoots it, only to find it empty. He quickly picks up an iron rod and hits at Henriksen. Meg appears and pushes Sam against the wall, trapping him there with a desk. Sam tries to push the desk away without success.

Nathaniel appears behind Chase, reaching an arm into her chest. Chase gasps out in pain before the feeling suddenly disappears. Harley had shot him.

“Thanks,” Chase breathes out, shooting at Meg, who was still harassing Sam.

“No problem.”

Chase and Harley turn just in time to hear Bobby shout, “Dean!”

Dean catches the bowl of ingredients, which Bobby had dropped when Meg plunged a hand into Bobby’s neck. The two girls sit on his desk. Chase and Harley take one out each, but don’t shoot at Meg, in fear of hitting Bobby.

Dean throws the contents of the bowl into the fireplace. The fire turns a brilliant blue, before everything suddenly stops. The ghosts disappear, and the wind stops, allowing everything in the room to settle.

They are all breathing hard and looking to one another.

“Bobby?” Dean asks.

Bobby nods, indicating he’s okay.

Sam gets free of the desk that had been pinning him.

They all take the moment to breathe.

***

It was the middle of the night. Harley sat at the kitchen table reading up on angels. She would normally be on the couch, but that was currently taken up by a sleeping Sam Winchester.

Chase sat on the counter, swinging her legs back and forth as she quietly ate a bowl of cereal. She looks up to make a comment to Harley about the ghosts earlier that day, but stops short and almost chokes on her food at the sight of the angel, Castiel. He stands facing the living room, very still, as though waiting for something.

“What the hell?” Chase asks loudly. Castiel looks backwards only a mere second, his facial expression screaming indifference to her. Her eyes widen as she looks to see if she’d disturbed the boys’ sleep. Sam lay as still as ever, snoring quietly. Dean however, had heard her, and was now sitting up. His face hardens upon seeing Castiel.

“So, um...Castiel, right? Why are you here in the middle of the night? Some people actually need sleep,” Harley asks, increasingly confused.

Dean walks over, and Castiel, having ignored both of the girls, nods to him. “Good job with the witnesses.”

“You were hip to all this?”

Chase snorts slightly at Dean’s choice of words.

“I was, uh, made aware,” Castiel responds, his voice gravelly, as though it hadn’t been used in a long time.

“Well, thanks for the angelic assistance. You know, I almost got my heart ripped out.”

“Oh, me too,” Chase pipes up. “Interesting experience, really.”

“But you didn’t,” Castiel says, still not addressing Chase. Chase shoots Harley an irritated glare, gesturing to Castiel and mouthing, ‘What’s his problem?’ to her.

“Look, Cas. Can I call you Cas? Actually don’t bother. I am. You can’t just be all ‘But you didn’t’ to my friends. They are amazing and wonderful and the second you realize that you’ll be poofing yourself over here in a second to save their asses as much as they need,” Harley scolds the angel.

“I don’t ‘poof’,” Castiel says.

“I thought angels were supposed to be guardians. Fluffy wings, halos -- you know, Michael Landon. Not dicks.”

“Read the Bible. Angels are warriors of God. I'm a soldier.”

“He’s right,” Harley pipes up.

“Yeah? Then, why didn't you fight?” Dean turns to Harley confused. “Wait… How would you know?”

“I went to Catholic school.”

“You? You went to Catholic school? Miss Constantly-Avoids-Churches? That’s actually really hot. I bet you were a bad girl weren’t you?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Castiel sighs, “I'm not here to perch on your shoulder. We had larger concerns,”

“Concerns? There were people getting torn to shreds down here! And, by the way, while all this is going on, where the hell is your boss, huh, if there is a God?” Dean practically shouts.

“Dean, you’re gonna wake up Sam,” Harley scolds.

“There's a God.” Castiel says, utterly unfazed and a little annoyed.

“I'm not convinced. 'Cause if there's a God, what the hell is he waiting for, huh? Genocide? Monsters roaming the earth? The freaking apocalypse? At what point does he lift a damn finger and help the poor bastards that are stuck down here?” Dean says.

“The Lord works-”

“If you say mysterious ways, Imma kick your ass,” Harley threatens. Castiel puts his hands up in surrender.

“So, Bobby was right... about the witnesses. This is some kind of a... sign of the apocalypse?” Dean asks.

“That's why we're here. Big things afoot,” Castiel says.

“Do we want to know what kind of things?” Chase asks.

“I sincerely doubt it, but you need to know. The rising of the witnesses is one of the 66 seals.”

‘Oh, look. He can talk to me. Miraculous,’ Chase mouths to Harley.

“Okay. I'm guessing that's not a show at Seaworld,” Dean jokes.

“Those seals are being broken by Lilith.”

“Bitch,” Harley murmurs.

“She did the spell. She rose the witnesses,” Dean says, stating the obvious.

“Mm-hmm. And not just here. 20 other hunters are dead.”

“Of course. She picked victims that the hunters couldn't save so that they would barrel right after us,” Dean concluded.

“Lilith has a certain sense of humor.”

“Well, we put those spirits back to rest.”

“It doesn't matter. The seal was broken.”

“Why break the seal anyway?”

“You think of the seals as locks on a door.”

“Okay. Last one opens and…”

“Lucifer walks free.”

“Lovely. I reckon now he has a chance to wear Prada,” Harley jokes.

Chase laughs and Dean smiles. Castiel doesn't even acknowledge the joke.

“Lucifer? But I thought Lucifer was just a story they told at demon Sunday school. There's no such thing,” Dean says, unsure.

“Three days ago, you thought there was no such thing as me. Why do you think we're here walking among you now for the first time in 2,000 years?” Castiel asks.

“To stop Lucifer.”

“That's why we've arrived.”

“Well... bang-up job so far. Stellar work with the witnesses. That's nice.”

“We tried. And there are other battles, other seals. Some we'll win, some we'll lose. This one we lost. Our numbers are not unlimited. Six of my brothers died in the field this week. You think the armies of Heaven should just follow you around? There's a bigger picture here. You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of Hell. I can throw you back in,” Castiel threatens before disappearing.

“Well…… That happened,” Harley stated plainly.

#AngelsandAcceptance #AaA #supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #bobby singer #chase winchester #harley pawlak #castiel

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ppangjae · 4 years ago

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MOON RIVER | Jaehyun (TEASER)

summary. Your mother warned you of many boys. She’s warned you of the immature ones, the players, and even the fools and cowards. But man, she has never warned you of guys like Jeong Jaehyun, the President’s son, who seems to be falling in love with you with every passing day even though he’s already engaged to someone he’s been set up to marry.

pairing. jeong jaehyun x fem!reader

warnings. swearing, brief mentions of death, and brief mentions of blood (from surgery) — disclaimer: i know nothing about surgery so please take those parts of the fic with a grain of salt

estimated word count. 20k+

playlist. moon river by jacob collier or frank ocean • suit and tie by justin timberlake ft. jay-z • moonshine by bruno mars • cheese and wine by dpr live • needy by ariana grande • better off by ariana grande • love of my life by queen • die for you by the weeknd • everytime by ariana grande • adorn by miguel • what you heard by sonder

release date. February 14, 2021 👀

“Doc Y/N?”

The emergency doors are barged open and a nurse steps in. You and Namjoon stare at the nurse who’s in a huge panic.

This feels weird. You raise an eyebrow. “What’s up?”

“We need your help. It’s a very, very, very important emergency.” She says with a squeak. She looks antsy.

You and Namjoon share a look. He sighs. “I guess I’m not clocking out for a while. Go help out, it seems very important.”

You pat Namjoon’s shoulder. “I owe you one.”

He waves it off. “Go before I change my mind.”

As you leave the emergency ward with the nurse, you glance at her. “Are you okay? Calm down first. You look a bit antsy. What’s going on—”

“This just in, an emergency crew was called to the highway for a car crash involving a woman in her thirties and a man who is believed to be Jeong Jaehyun, the President’s son. His condition is still unknown but he has been airlifted to Seoul’s National Health Network—”

Tearing your gaze from the TV screen, you glance at the nurse who gives you a knowing look in return. Coincidentally, your pager begins to buzz. Checking your pager, you feel your heartbeat begin to race with nervousness.

“Lead the way, I’ll follow.” You insist and the nurse starts to jog down the hallway.

Unpredictable mornings, unpredictable evenings, unpredictable shifts. You’ve gotten used to it at this point.

“Please step back, only doctors and nurses are allowed beyond this point.” You notify what seems like the President’s son’s bodyguards. They step back and turn their back towards you as you shut the door. They start to guard the doors to the emergency room.

Stepping into the emergency room, you suck in a deep breath. You’re not sure why, out of the four of you working in emergency medicine, you were called to this job. Lying down on the hospital bed is the President’s son himself. His life depends on you and that in of itself, terrifies you.

Letting out an exhale, you approach him. You analyze him first, checking for bone fractures, but when you look at his head, your hands start to sweat. There’s a large gash on the side of his head. “Continue to give him oxygen. We need to give him blood supply. He has a large gash on his head. I’ll extract the glass from the gash and then stitch him up to avoid any more blood loss before we work on the remaining fractures in his body.”

“Yes, Doc—”

“Breathe in. We will be fine. He will be fine. He’s fighting.”

“Breaking news, Jeong Jaehyun, the President’s son, is now in stable condition. He was involved in a three-vehicle car crash on the highway. More details on his condition are yet to come and a statement will soon be released to the public.”

You slide down the wall, falling to the floor and allowing your legs to give out. You’re tired. You’re extremely tired. You’re job isn’t even over yet, you still have to explain Mr. Jeong’s condition to his parents. Hell, you might even have to release a statement regarding his condition to the public. It’s a huge call for another headache. A nurse enters the room and softly calls out your name. Slowly looking up from your hands, you spot her near the door.

“The President’s here.”

It’s time, you think to yourself. As you slowly get up from the floor, you begin to collect yourself and put on your professionalism before walking out to the waiting room.

It’s almost as if the hairs on your arms had stood up the moment you met eyes with the President. You’ve only seen the President on TV screens, newspapers and websites. You’ve never seen him in person. Hell, you never even thought you’d ever be at one meter’s distance from the President. But there he is, sitting down on one of the benches with a look of concern and worry plastered all over his face. You bite your lip, drawing in a deep breath.

“Mr. Jeong?” You say softly.

He snaps out of his trance. When he looks up at you he gives you a mustered up smile. “Hi, Doc Y/N. Thank you for taking care of my son. How is he? Is he alright?”

You look at his bodyguards, one by one. You gulp nervously, glancing back at Mr. Jeong. “Is it possible if I can talk to you privately?”

He dismisses his bodyguards, leaving the both of you all alone in the waiting room. You offer to take a seat together at the bench. He looks at you nervously.

“First off, I just wanted to let you know that your son is doing perfectly fine. His vitals are normal. He truly is a fighter. He’s been fighting throughout the whole emergency surgery.” You flash him a small, reassuring smile. “However—”

“However?” He repeats you nervously.

You continue. “However, because of the accident, he arrived at the hospital with a gash on the right side of his head. He has a couple of fractures on his legs but those will heal in a couple of months. The gash, however, it was pretty deep and near a critical nerve. Your son will most likely end up in a coma for a couple of months. It is not expected for him to wake up from his unconsciousness right now.”

“A c-coma?” You slowly nod your head. “Oh, good lord.”

You place a hand on top of his after hesitating and contemplating whether it was the right thing to do. When his hand doesn’t move away, you figure that you made the right choice. “Be rest assured he will be okay. As I said, he’s a fighter. On the bright side, patients who survive such a terrible car accident that’s life-threatening will end up in a coma for years. With your strong son, he might be in a coma for much shorter.”

“Oh, thank God.” He sighs with relief. “I’d take a couple of months over years. I just want my son to be okay.”

“Mr. Jeong, we will move your son to the intensive care unit for the first few weeks and when his condition gets better, we’ll move him into one of our private wards.” You explain the next steps. “From there, we’ll just have to wait until he wakes up.”

“I trust your word, Doc.”

You smile. “Thank you, Mr. Jeong. I’ll watch closely on his condition until he is discharged, which hopefully, will be soon.”

“Thank you, Doc.”

You clear your throat, digging into the pocket of your white coat. “Your son was wearing this at the scene of the accident and I figured you would want to hold onto it.”

The President looks down at the palm of his hand to see his son’s engagement ring.

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