#like you’re counting this up after I’ve lost probably 10 hand axes already when I couldn’t recover my thrown weapons after battle

[platypusisnotonfire]

My DM after having been adding features to my character on DnDBeyond: oh my GOD you have so many weapons how do you have so many weapons good grief

As if he, playing all the Shopkeeps, wasn’t the one selling them all to me 😂

[blah-blah-stranger-things]

The Monk (Chapter 2/2)

Chapter 1

ao3 (featuring slightly better formatting)

“A Monk. One of those quiet-types with robes and fancy handwriting?” Hopper looks at Wheeler skeptically.

“It’s not like - no, not a medieval monk. They’re like...”

“Monks believe in perfecting themselves, physically and spiritually, in pursuit of enlightenment,” Dustin advises sagely, balancing potato chips on four of his fingertips.

“And that sounds like me to you, huh?”

“Um - yeah, of course it does,” Wheeler responds cheerily. Hopper’s going to pretend he doesn’t notice the glance at his stomach, because otherwise one thing will lead to another, and at the end of the day he understands that it’s never ok to beat up a child.

“They also believe in punching people real hard in the face,” Lucas adds dryly.

Hopper tilts his head. Alright, he’ll give them that one. “And this role, or whatever - that determines what I can do?”

“Your class. And yeah, kind of,” Wheeler replies, turning one of those massive rulebooks toward him. “They determine your hit dice, and your ability set, and how much experience you need for certain effects, and what - ”

“Whoa, whoa, ok. Slow down. You promised me I wouldn’t have to look at any charts.”

Wheeler looks disappointed for a moment, but then shrugs as if to say ‘your loss.’

“So. Monk,” Hopper resumes. “That’s the closest thing this game has to a cop?”

Nobody responds for a couple of seconds. Dustin becomes very interested in his hat, Lucas starts idly tapping Max’s jeans with his pencil’s eraser (she grimaces affectionately; Hopper hadn’t known that was something a person could do), and Will concentrates intently on a doodle he’s been sketching in the corner of his character sheet. “Sure,” Mike says eventually.

Hopper glances at El, who shrugs shyly without making eye contact. “Do me a favor, kids,” he says after a moment. “Don’t ever commit a crime that requires you to lie to the police. It’s not your strong suit.”

El has the decency to look embarrassed, but Wheeler just scratches the back of his head. “Well - ok, maybe technically there’s another class that’s more like a police officer. But it’s taken.”

“You can’t have more than one of each?”

“Well you could, I guess, but... we don’t.”

Of course they don’t. “Ok. So which one is it. I assume it’s not maestro over there - ” Dustin waggles his eyebrows helpfully. “ - or red’s made-up speed demon, or El’s witch.”

“Mage,” El corrects gravely.

“Right. So that leaves the clerk, or - ”

“Cleric,” Will says, crossing his arms. Jesus, kid can glare as good as his mother when he wants to.

“ - or bandana over there.”

“Lucas is a Ranger. And no, it’s not any of those.”

“Well,” Hopper concludes patiently, “I may not be a math whiz, but I’m pretty sure that’s all five of you. There some invisible player here I don’t know about? Bad manners not to introduce a guest to the host, kid.”

“Um, hello?” Wheeler says. “There’s six of us here.”

Hopper frowns. “I thought you were the, uh. The Dungeon Master.”

“Right now, sure. We trade off sometimes, though.”

“Yeah but Mike’s the best at it,” Will notes matter-of-factly. In response Wheeler does his best not to look cocky, which isn’t saying much.  

Dustin gives a half-shrug. “Eh, for stories. Lucas still kills it when it comes to running tactical scenarios.”

“And yet he couldn’t stalk for shit,” Max laments teasingly, flicking Lucas’s temple, who flinches and grins. (Hopper decides he doesn’t want to know.)

“Anyway - I’m a Paladin, which is probably the closest thing to law enforcement. But I mean that’s just based on specs and general outline. Really backstory is more important, and Monks have to be Lawful, which fits the police, right?”

Hopper smells bullshit - exhibit A, there’s no goddamn Paladin in the group at the moment, and since he doesn’t expect he’ll be investing in a set of mutated dice anytime soon why the hell does it matter if he plays one - but whatever. He’s doing this for El. Stop arguing and get it over with, Jim. “Fine. But let me state for the record, you’re missing out on a real bonding opportunity, Wheeler. Don’t you think El’d love it if her two favorite men had matching classes?”

El smiles widely and Wheeler looks embarrassed, so as far as Hopper’s concerned he’s 2 for 0.

“Alright, so I’m physically disciplined, I punch people, I’m law-abiding. That enough to get started here or what?”

“Lawful. Different from law-abiding,” Dustin amends in what Hopper supposes is meant to be a professorial tone.

“How you figure.”

“It’s part of your alignment. I mean yeah, Lawful people usually are law-abiding, but it’s more than that.”

Hopper rubs his temples preemptively. “Alignment.”

“Mhm. Everyone has an alignment. It’s a system on two axes; on the one side you’ve got your Lawful, Neutral, Chaotic, on the other it’s Good, Neutral, and - ”

“I know you’re not showing me a chart but now I’m picturing one in my head, which I’ve decided counts. Why don’t you just... tell me what you all are and I can be that too.”

Will’s gone back to doodling - the kid’s intimidatingly good, even if he puts the timid in intimidating; Hopper feels mildly unsettled when draws dries, sometimes, half-convinced that one day he’ll look over Will’s shoulder and see more of those damn vines spilling out onto the page. Anyway he’s doodling, and doesn’t look up when he replies. “We’re different. Mike and I are Lawful Good, Dustin and Max are Chaotic Good, and El and Lucas are Neutral - ”

“ - Good, yeah, I get it, you’re the good guys. Fine. So I’m Lawful Good?”

“If you want to be. You could try Lawful Neutral if you’re feeling edgy. The law applies to good and evil alike! That kind of thing. Like Judge Dredd, or... man, is there anyone in Star Wars who’d be Lawful Neutral?” Wheeler asks, looking mildly distressed.

“It’d be lost on me anyway, kid,” Hopper reassures.

“Inspector Javert’s Lawful Neutral,” Dustin provides.

Hopper grunts; he took Sara to see that show, once, when she was too little to understand much of what was happening. “You never struck me as one for musicals.”

“What? I have a soft spot for Les Mis. My mom likes it. Besides, I am a Bard. I dreaaaamed a dreaaaaam in time gone byyyyyyy - ”

“Just - god - please. Don’t,” Hopper pleads quietly.

God spurns him. Will joins in without looking up from his doodling, forehead creasing with due melodrama. “When hoooope was hiiiiiigh and liiiiiife worth liviiiiing. I dreaaaaamed that loooove would never dii - ow!” the boys say simultaneously as Max and Lucas, perfectly choreographed, smack them upside the head. At least El’s laughing.

“So can we get started or - ” Hopper and Mike both say, overtop each other.

El laughs harder.

Yes, though, it turns out, they can.

“Unbeknownst to the party - unbeknownst even to Ariybar himself - there’s another witness to the dark proceedings underway in the ritual chamber. A tall man with a hard gaze lurks just outside the secret doorway, having followed the brave adventurers here at the behest of the Order of the Golden Shield. The Order, a band of warriors dedicated to seeking justice across the land, sent their top operative - known only as Chief - to ensure the safe return of the princess, given - um - some... creative solutions, that this particular group has been known to employ on occasion.”

“Look,” Dustin interjects, “if that goat hadn’t looked at me funny I never would have had to - ”

“Would you shut it about the goat already,” Lucas hisses. “Besides, he’s probably talking about the time El first discovered her powers and almost burnt down the entire Enchanted Forest.”

El makes a face at him. “Better than Doomstoll.”

“Yeah, Lucas. I don’t remember El spending half an hour flirting with a young maiden who turned out to be a kobold in disguise,” Will teases.

Max raises an eyebrow.

“In my defense,” Lucas says, holding up his hands, “Mike said she was hot.”

“Yeah? What’d she look like?”

“Oh you know. Dark hair, petite. Dainty. Just how I like ‘em,” he says with a grin. Max shoves him.

“Yeah except actually she looked like if a wet rat had sex with a lizard,” Dustin notes. “Not sure what that says about you Max.”

“Doesn’t say anything about me. Just shows how pitifully desperate this nerd used to be.”

“Guys can we focus here? - So, Chief, you’re listening in and have just heard Ariybar explain his plan. It’s clear from the way the runes along the wall are reacting that his ritual is about to begin. What do you do?”

Hopper finds himself feeling surprisingly nervous all the sudden, and it doesn’t help that they’re all staring at him expectantly. “Do I get choices, or something?”

Wheeler shakes his head. “You can do anything you want. As long as it doesn’t go against the rules.”

He grunts. “So the Dungeon Master is Lawful, is what you’re saying.”

Wheeler smiles. “What do you do?” he repeats.

Hopper glances at El, who nods encouragingly. “I, uh... do I have a gun?”

“What do you think,” Wheeler responds, looking unimpressed.

“Ok, fine. A weapon?”

The Dungeon Master taps his fingertips against the cover of a rulebook, mouth twisted in thought, before he picks up a die and rolls it. “Yeah, ok. Traditionally Monks don’t rely on weapons and armor, but we’ll say you’ve got a knife with you. You’ll do more damage with your fists, though, if you decide to attack.”

“Does he have Quivering Palm?” Dustin asks excitedly.

“What? No. That’s level 13 and above.”

“Yeah, but he’s older. More experienced.”

“Age doesn’t matter when it comes to level.”

“Yeah, I know, but...”

“No. Overruled. He’s the same level as the rest of you.” Kid takes to authority a little too well, Hopper thinks with a frown. And judging by the impish smile his daughter’s sending Wheeler’s way, she likes it.

“So where’s everyone standing, relative to me,” he interrupts, before his mind can start going all sorts of bad places.

“Ok - the party is about 15 feet into the room. Ariybar is hovering a foot or so off the ground about 10 feet in front of them. Here,” he says, pulling a board of sorts out into the center of the floor space, “we probably should’ve set this up earlier. Each square is 5 feet by 5 feet. With your speed you can move 30 feet per combat round - but we’re not in combat yet, so, ignore that for now. Uhh so this one’s Ariybar,” he says, picking up a statuette of a gnarled little creature and placing it on the board. “And here’s Will, El, Max, Lucas, Dustin... and this one’s you.”

The figurine he chooses is a ripped old bald guy with a big stick. Kind of like if Gandhi had decided to skip the hunger strikes and spent all his afternoons at the gym instead. “And he doesn’t know I’m here yet.”

“Right.”

Hopper scratches his neck, realizes he missed a spot shaving. Eh, it’s the weekend. “How long until this ritual thing is complete?”

“You don’t know. You’re not a caster.”

“Wait, wait, wait. You don’t need to be a caster to know about spells,” Dustin contests.

“Yeah, but this is a unique ritual.”

Lucas makes a face. “That’s weak. He didn’t get to pick his backstory or skills, how do we know he doesn’t have a knowledge concentration or something?”

“Because he doesn’t!”

“Weak.”

“Well - Ariybar’s an illusionist. So an arcane caster,” Will notes. “A Monk might know about divine magic, but probably not arcane.”

“Thank you,” Wheeler says, as Dustin and Lucas both appear to reluctantly concede, leaning back.

“Wise,” Will reminds with a shy smile, tapping his forehead.

“So are you going to do something, or...” Max prods.

“Yeah,” Hopper grunts, clearing his throat. “Just a couple more questions first.”

Mike toys with something behind his little Dungeon Master wall/board/whatever. “The runes flair dramatically; you get the sense you don’t have much time left. I’ll give you one more question.”

“Just one?”

“Yeah.”

Hopper grunts again, and finds he isn’t above waiting a few extra breaths as the group stares at him expectantly. Dramatic tension, or some shit. He slouches in his chair to get closer to eye level with the group seated on the floor. Also because it’s a Saturday and he’s lazy. “What’s he wearing.”

Wheeler frowns, and Dustin and Lucas glance at each other. Max looks ready to be offended and/or disgusted; El just looks confused.

“ - sorry?” Wheeler replies eventually.

“I said, what’s he wearing.”

“You mean like what equipment he has, or - ”

“Is that how you take it when someone asks you what you’re wearing to the school dance? They want to know if you’re bringing a sword? I mean exactly what I said.”

After a few more skeptical seconds, Wheeler shrugs. “Ok - um, he’s got a somewhat dirty white tunic covered by lightweight leather armor. Brown pants. A cloth belt and muddy boots, and a red robe, undecorated but definitely the best-maintained part of his outfit. There’s a pendant around his neck, a blue stone on a gold chain.”

“And that’s it?”

Wheeler looks uncomfortable for what might be the first time since Hopper got dragged into this mess, and it takes a little effort to keep from smirking. “I mean... that you can see. Yeah.”

Hopper nods. “Alright. Here goes nothing,” he mutters. “I step out into the room.”

“Do you sneak?”

He shakes his head. “Looks to me like someone needs to interrupt him. So I interrupt him.”

Wheeler nods. “Ok. What do you say?”

Hopper rubs at the patch of stubble on his neck. “Uh - so I just say it to you?”

“Yeah. Pretend I’m Ariybar.”

Hopper’s not going to do that, because a teenage supervillain in an argyle sweater isn’t something he’s sure he can take seriously. So he focuses on preparing his response instead. “Stop right there,” he says with as much authority as he’s willing to muster.

“Ariybar’s sinister smirk is interrupted by a confused frown as he looks toward you, and the runes dim slightly. ‘What’s this? Another hapless soul for my master to consume?’”

Hopper’s eyebrow twitches. The kid has a flair for the theatrical, no doubt, but his voices could use some work. “I’m here to stop you,” he says with something like heroism, reevaluating all the choices in his life that have led him to this moment.

“Who the hell are you?” Dustin asks emphatically.

“...what do you mean, who the hell am I.”

“No - my character says that.”

“Wheeler just told you who I was. A Monk from the League of the Gold Medalists or whatever.”

“Order of the Golden Shield,” Mike says impatiently. “Like a police badge?”

“I know he said that,” Dustin resumes, his professor voice on display again. “But you’re not supposed to metagame. ‘What is metagaming,’ you’re no doubt asking yourself. Well, that’s an excellent question, Chief Hopper’s hypothetical internal monologue. Metagaming means acting on knowledge you have as a player but that your character wouldn’t know. It’s like cheating.”

“So in addition to knowing all the stuff in those books you also have to not know things to play this game.”

“Pretty much. So like I said - ‘Who the hell are you?’”

Hopper closes his eyes, rubs the corner of one with his thumb. “I’m from the Order of the, uh...”

“Golden Shield.”

“ - Golden Shield, I was about to say that. I followed you twerps here to make sure you actually got the job done.”

“Are you kidding me? The king doesn’t trust us? After everything we’ve done for him?” Dustin exclaims, affronted.

“I mean, to be fair...” Max says, waving her hand in a circle.

“...ok, so I admit this isn’t our finest moment. But still. I thought we had a bond.”

“‘Fool. All you’ve accomplished is ensuring you’ll share your friends’ fate!’ Ariybar turns his attention to you and begins to cast a spell.”

“Not my friends,” Hopper mutters.

“Everyone’s piling it on today,” Dustin grumbles.

It takes Hopper a moment before he realizes that Will’s holding out a die pinched between two fingers in front of him. “You’ll need this,” the boy says, nodding at Wheeler, who’s flipping rapidly through pages in his rulebook.

Hopper holds out a hand for it, and Will drops it in. Well, he thinks, staring down at the lump of plastic resting on his palm, there’s no going back now. He’s about to lose his nerdginity.

“Roll a Reflex save. - Uh, just, roll that,” Mike corrects when he looks up, before Hopper can ask for clarification.

Here goes nothing.

The die cracks its knuckles against the floor and comes to rest next to an abandoned pretzel stick. “17.”

“Nice. A bright, crackling beam of energy aimed at your chest slices through the air, but as though on instinct you angle your body out of the way in the fraction of a second it takes for the spell to leave his fingertips. The wall behind you sparks and sizzles, burnt at the point of impact.”

“Holy shit, did he just dodge a bolt of lightning?” Max remarks.

“Monks get Evasion as a class ability.”

“Badass,” El says. Oh good. She’s picked up another one.

Granted, it was kind of badass.

“Punch him in the face,” Lucas suggests enthusiastically, but Hopper raises a hand to shush him.

“Wheeler said I wouldn’t know anything about the ritual. What about the rest of you? You can still talk, right?”

Will nods. “El should be able to roll a Knowledge check for it.”

“Good luck,” Lucas mutters.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hopper says, defensively on El’s behalf.

“It just means her character’s, uh... you know, more of an emotionally-driven Mage. Not really the... bookish type.”

El sticks her tongue out at him as she picks a die to roll.

“Ariybar grimaces. ‘Dodge all you want. There’s nothing you do to stop me! In a few moments, it’ll all be over! My master will - ’”

“Yeah, listen, I heard the whole villain rant from the doorway there, so we can skip it, thanks. El?”

“One-two. Plus two. So, one-four. Fourteen,” she corrects when he gives her a look, rolling her eyes. They’ve had several disagreements where she’s made the case that her numbering system makes more sense in the end, an argument he’s found frustratingly difficult to refute - but if she’s going to be out in the world soon, she needs to learn to blend in, and that’s not how one-four-year-olds speak.

“Ok,” Wheeler says, “so you don’t know anything about this specific ritual, but you know an invocation spell like this one usually requires a focus component, and takes about a minute of concentration to cast.”

“So... the focus component is the pendant. Duh,” Max supplies.

Hopper craves a smoke, but the pack is back over on the table, which means not only would he have to unslouch to reach it, he’d have to stand. Meh. “Before your little plot twist back there I’d have made a comment about how stupid this guy is to wear an important part of his plan around his neck, out in the open like that. But I figure it must be rigged or something. That’s a thing, right? Magic booby traps or whatever?”

“It’s possible,” Dustin agrees.

“Ok. Then I pull out that knife you said I have.”

“Ariybar smirks. ‘You expect to take me down with that?’”

Hopper rubs his nose. “No. But I think it’s going to get me that little bauble around your neck.”

“‘Ha! Do your worst, hireling! This chain can’t be cut by any blade, let alone a common - ’”

“I circle round to Red and put the knife against her neck.”

“Whoa, what the hell,” Max exclaims, wide-eyed, and the rest of the group’s comments blend into the kind of cacophony Hopper usually associates with interruptions to bingo night down at the church on Thursday nights, whenever he’s called into to stop two octogenarians from tearing each other’s hair out.

“‘What are you - what are you doing?’ Ariybar demands.”

“Well,” he says, crossing his arms, “as I understand it your plan hinges on taking control of the, uh, Zoomer here. Seems like all our problems go away once she’s out of the picture.”

“Dad!” El hisses; there’s no affection in the word this time. He ignores her.

“‘You... you wouldn’t dare take an innocent life!’”

“Hey,” he shrugs, “they’re the Good guys. I’m the Neutral guy.”

“Ariybar stops levitating, feet touching the ground as he approaches you, hands raised. ‘Let’s - let’s be reasonable. Surely we can come to some arrangement. One where you don’t need to kill an innocent girl.’”

“Uh, my character’s a woman, thank you very much.”

“God Mayfield that’s not the point,” Wheeler says, either as himself or as Ariybar, Hopper can’t decide.

“Like I said,” Hopper interrupts, “this knife’s gonna get me that stone. Hand it over, and I’ll let her live.”

“Ariybar hesitates. After a moment, he reaches behind his neck and unfastens the chain, and then slips the pendant off. He plays with it a moment before slowly approaching and extending a hand to give it to you.”

“I keep my knife to her throat as I reach out to take it. Uh, I say, ‘Any funny business and she’s a goner.’” Jesus, he sounds like a 40s movie gangster. “‘You saw how fast I moved back there; don’t think my hand is any slower.’ - That’s, uh, true, right?” he asks as an aside. Dustin gives him a thumbs-up.

“Ariybar scowls and drops the stone into your hand.”

“Good. Now back off.”

“He does.”

“Woo-hoo!” Lucas cheers. “Nice thinking, Chief.”

Hopper twists his mouth and studies Wheeler, who’s managing a decent poker face. “Gave it up too easily,” he mutters in reply, and then, experiencing a sudden burst of energy, sits up nearly an entire half an inch. “Is there a way to be sure this thing isn’t another illusion?”

“You can roll to disbelieve it.”

He does, using the same bulky die as before when directed. “19.”

Lucas makes a noise. “Damn, man. Talk about beginner’s luck.”

“You can’t be 100% positive your attempt worked, but you feel confident that the stone you’re holding is real. It pulses with an otherworldly heat; magic is definitely flowing through it.”

“If I have quick hands, does that mean I have quick fingers? You know, uh, like...”

“Sleight-of-hand skills?” Wheeler asks. Hopper nods. “Sure. I think that’s reasonable.”

“Alright. Then I’m going to lower my knife and walk around behind the rest of the group. Will, do you still have that sack you were carrying around earlier?”

Will is wide-eyed and more animated than Hopper’s ever seen him; he’s been that way all day, not included play breaks, every time Hopper’s looked up to check in on the story. Uh - on the players, he means. Anyway, it’s kind of adorable. “My satchel? Yeah. It’s pretty full, though.”

“That’s fine. I’m gonna sneak the stone into the top of the bag as I pass by.”

“Ok. Give me another d20 roll.”

“11.”

Half the party groans, and for a second Hopper assumes he’s failed the roll or something. He reevaluates when El, smiling widely, leans forward to give the slightly pinkening Wheeler a peck on the lips.

“Every. Single. Eleven,” Dustin complains.

Hopper grimaces. “Maybe cut the PDA while I’m playing,” he suggests firmly. He tries his best not to get too overbearing-father-figure with El these days, especially when it comes to Wheeler - part of him does feel guilty for keeping them separated for a year, and an even deeper part of him has internalized the sting of El’s recitation of numbered days, the terrible realization that, at least on some occasions, she saw him as a warden more than a protector - but that doesn’t mean he won’t enforce boundaries where appropriate.

El shakes her head at him, though, still looking giddy. “Tradition,” she states plainly, and directs her smile at him.

It’s not fair that she can melt his heart with a look like that. His heart is supposed to be a big, hairy, manly heart, a heart like weathered concrete, and, you know, a whole bunch of other clumsily mixed metaphors. (His physician has other adjectives for it, but that’s neither here nor there.) He mutters something unintelligible and turns his attention back to the game. “So...”

Mike unflusters himself. “Yeah. The stone goes in without incident.” He makes a roll behind his wall/shield/screen.

“Good,” Hopper says. “Now all that’s left is for you to release these... adventurers, and point me in the direction of the princess.”

“You said you crossed the room?” Wheeler confirms.

“Uh... yeah, I guess I’d have to, right? If I went behind Will?” He moves Buff Gandhi to a new position on the board.

“Then Ariybar mutters an incantation and the runes flash white. Give me another d20 roll.”

“...4.” Beginner’s luck, huh.

“The light fades and you find yourself in the same state as the others, frozen in place.”

“Son of a bitch,” Dustin sighs.

“ - I mean, is anyone surprised?” Lucas asks with frustration. “What exactly was your plan, here? You basically gave up your hostage, which was the only thing stopping him from...” He trails off as Hopper fixes him with a death glare.

Ariybar picks up for him, though. “‘You arrogant fool!’ Ariybar exclaims, approaching you.” Wheeler has a cocksure smile on his face, and Hopper has another urge to exercise his Monkly proclivities for introducing smug looks to closed fists. “‘Assuming I’d just let you leave, even after you abandoned your advantage? After I’d given you my pendant?’ He cackles and crosses to Will.”

“I bare my teeth at him,” Will says, demonstrating with feeling.

“He reaches into your pack. ‘And this - this was supposed to fool me? This stone is bound to me; I would know its precise whereabouts even had you carried it halfway around the world!’ He pulls out the stone and backs away.”

Max shakes her head. “Damnit. I really thought we had him there, for a minute.” She kicks the side of the couch. “Well. Nice knowing you, everybody.”

“Still think you made it too damn hard,” Dustin mutters at Wheeler.

“Well the last three sessions you said everything was too easy! What was I supposed to - ”

“Come on, guys,” Will says, with the weary determination of a boy who has seen things. The thought occurs to Hopper as something humorous, at first, until he remembers that of course Will has seen things, felt things, lived through things, beyond anything he can really understand. “The Chief did a great job giving us a second chance. There must be something...” he says, though it’s more of a plea than anything else.

“No one’s saying he didn’t,” Lucas assures. “But we’re all paralyzed, now. Unless another one of our parents has been secretly listening in outside and decides to join in, I’m pretty sure we’re well and truly screwed.”

“The runes turn green again as Ariybar lifts off the ground; judging by the intensity of the light, he’s picking up where he left off.”

El looks at Wheeler pleadingly, who looks pained for a moment before he bites his lip and shifts his divider to block her gaze. By the time she turns that gaze to Hopper, it’s only gotten more intense. “We have to do something!”

He keeps his focus on Wheeler, stone-faced.

The kid glances around the faces of the others - apologetically? To check for last-minute strokes of genius, maybe - before he takes a deep breath and announces, “The green of the runes becomes absolutely toxic and pulses once, twice, three times, then fades to lifeless black. ‘IT IS DONE!’ Ariybar announces, cackling wildly as he settles to the floor. Max, that sinister energy you felt earlier consumes you entirely - hundreds of souls enslaved to your will, and beyond them a looming darkness in the back of your mind: your father, the Tyrant, ready to receive them, to be - ”

Hopper clears his throat. “I can talk, right?”

Mike frowns. There’s silence for a second or two as everyone pulls themselves out of the moment. “...I mean... yeah. I guess. Everybody else could, so...”

“Good. Zoomer, do me a favor, would you, tell this guy to shut the hell up?”

Max frowns. Everybody frowns. “...I don’t...” She glances uncertainly at Lucas, then at Wheeler, then at Hopper. “What do you...”

Hopper sits up so that he can lean forward, resting his elbows on his knees and interlacing his fingers. “Will, remind us what the last item you put in your bag was?”

Will creases his brow, looks decidedly confused. “Um...”

“I’ll help jog your memory. Unless I’m mistaken, it was right after you all found that scrap from the princess’s dress.”

Will blinks. “In the back of the amulet shop. Yeah, that’s right. I picked up one of the amulets so that we could test...” His eyes widen.

“That’s right. You did. To test its effects, or something. And I seem to recall that this - what was it he called me? Arrogant fool? - that this arrogant fool said anyone who’s touched one of these amulets would be under the Zoomer’s control as soon as his ritual finished. Your pack was pretty full, and that amulet you picked up would’ve been on top. Poor guy should’ve worn gloves. But we know he didn’t. Wheeler said he’d described everything Ariybar was wearing.” Hopper lets the smirk he’s been sitting on creep out onto his face.

Max blinks. “Stop talking!” she shouts suddenly.

Hopper blinks back, until he realizes she’s addressing Ariybar, following Hopper’s advice. Wheeler realizes it too, after a minute, and then it’s his turn to blink. “Uhh - um...” He lets out a single, breathy, kind of dumbstruck laugh. “Yeah. - Yeah, ok.

“I guess Ariybar shuts the hell up.”

~

Afterwards there’s laughter and high-fives and a surplus of dessert waffles, in-jokes and anecdotes and way too many sci-fi references. At one point (and, admittedly, with the help of a couple of beers) Hopper finds himself getting a little too involved watching what’s gradually turned into a dramatic reenactment of the group’s last adventure, to the extent that when they slay the big bad he actually lets out the kind of whoop he usually reserves for hometown football games.

Wheeler’s the last to leave, as usual. And, as usual, Hopper can’t help eavesdropping on the extended goodbye.

“That was fun.”

“Yeah - yeah, it was. Sorry if it was weird, bringing Hopper in like that.”

“Mm-mm. It was good. He had fun.”

“I guess so. - You know he was actually pretty good.”

“He’s the best. Like you.”

A break in the dialogue. No mystery as to the cause.

“I’ll radio you tomorrow?”

“Tonight.”

“Deal.” Hopper can hear the smile in Wheeler’s voice.

“Not promise?” He can hear the teasing in hers.

“Can’t hurt to shake things up now and then.”

“Fine.” Another pause. “Deal.”

And then he’s off.

~

End of day the following Monday Flo stops him in the hall as he’s pulling on his jacket. “Chief,” she says, frowning down through her glasses at a piece of paper in her hand.

“What can I do for you, Florence?” he says pleasantly.

She glances up at him skeptically. “You’re chipper.”

“That’s because I’m leaving.”

She makes an unamused noise, which he likes to think means she’s amused. “I was just going over the office supplies requests. Tell me, what do we need - ” she adjusts her bifocals -  “‘polyhedral dice’ for, exactly?”

Hopper glances around the office - no one else around to overhear, thank god - and scratches his chin. “Training exercises,” he answers after a moment, as he pushes past her and out the door, a small smile playing at his lips.

[magicalmischel]

SPN 13x01 Coda

Destiel :) You can find it on AO3 here.

A DIFFERENT KIND OF LOVE

It takes him a while to make another step. Let alone walk to the other side of the room, right where- where he is lying on the table, covered in a beige sheet. A sheet that Dean had covered him with, his eyes full of tears, and so overwhelmed with emotions that it was getting too hard to keep it all inside. Way harder than it usually was.

But that's okay. Is it okay? It is okay, isn't it? The only one around who can clearly see what state he's in is Sam, and it's okay if he knows it. He probably already knows anyway.

But Cas didn't.

Damn it, he should have told him right after he almost died because of Ramiel. He should have manned up and told him everything instead of waiting until it was too late. There's always a too late, in their lives.

Another person who'd see how fucking broken he is is Jack. Dean's not sure how he feels about that, but he doesn't plan on talking to the kid anyway.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Another step closer. And another, and another.

He's standing above the body now, looking down and doing his best not to break down. He knows there's no going back, no fixing this. Because Chuck doesn't care and the universe is a shitty place to live in when you're Dean Winchester.

Everyone you love dies.

Mary, John, Ash, Pamela, Ellen, Jo, Bobby, Benny, Kevin, Charlie, Eileen, Crowley, Sam . . . Cas.

He takes the sheet and pulls it back, looking down at the love of his love – yes, the fucking love of his screwed up life. He knows that now. And he didn't tell Cas. All he did was make him a mixtape and he's sure Cas didn't even know what that meant anyway.

Dean looks up and holds his breath.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Breathe in. 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. Breathe out.

Is he calmer now? Of course he fucking isn't. He looks down one more time at Cas's closed eyes and lips that won't ever smile at him again. Not that they did that often, but when they did and his eyes sparkled, it was like the sun had come out after days of rain.

This is the last time he sees him. This is their last goodbye. No more texts with emojis and no more pats on the back.

He turns his head away and lays his hand down on Cas' chest. He stretches out his fingers and doesn't look down until he finds the mixtape in Cas' inside pocket. The one closer to his heart. Dean pulls it out, adjusts Cas' overcoat and pulls back the sheet, looking only at the mixtape now.

Will he ever listen to all those songs again? His favorite songs? They used to be the best, but now they only serve as a reminder of everything that he's lost.

After he puts the mixtape into his own pocket, he looks around the room and tears the light yellow curtains into pieces. When he's done with that, he walks back to Cas and starts wrapping him and preparing him for the funeral.

This is the part that usually the closest member of the family to the deceased does. Or their partner.

And he's sure Sam knows that too.

xoXÖXox

It's just manual work, something to make him stop thinking about everything that's happened. With the ax in his hands and another tree down, he can start preparing enough wood for the pyre. He takes a swing and feels his muscles burning with effort. It's better than the other kind of pain, so why not continue?

But it doesn't take long and Sam joins him, with an equally sad expression. He's glad that Jack isn't with him, the kid seemed to connect with Sam for some reason. Whatever the reason is, he just hopes it doesn't last long and that once they know how to kill Jack, there won't be any problem doing it.

Before Sam starts, he looks at him and their eyes meet. Dean nods slightly and avoids his brother's stare, and then it's just the sound of the axes against the thin tree trunks and thick branches.

As soon as he gathers enough, he carries it over to the pyre, takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

Before he can go back to the woods and join his brother though, a voice stops him.

"Dean?"

It's Jack.

Dean rolls his eyes and turns around, seeing that the nephilim is walking towards him. He's really excited to finally have a conversation with him. If Cas was here, he probably wouldn't understand the sarcasm of that statement.

"I'm sorry for what happened," Jack says. He looks sympathetic. Dean just hopes Sam didn't tell that kid anything that he didn't need to know about Cas and himself or the relationship they'd had. Or the lack thereof.

"I'm really not in a mood for a talk right now," Dean frowns at him.

"I know that Castiel meant a lot to you," Jack tells him, making Dean even more uncomfortable than he already is. "And although I don't know much, I know that it can help a lot to know that someone knows how you're feeling. Clark helped me to-"

"Cut the crap and get to the point," Dean interrupts him, tightening his hold on the ax in his hand. He's aware of the sudden urge to use it, but he's holding it back. It wouldn't do much against a nephilim anyway.

"I know how you feel," Jack nods at him, making Dean frown even more. "I've lost both my parents today."

"Lucifer's still kicking," Dean says, "but unless you can create another rift and jump through it, preferably staying on the other side, you won't see him again."

"That's not- Lucifer isn't my father."

This time, Dean raises his eyebrows instead of more frowning. "Come again?"

"He is my biological father, but I chose my father to be Castiel," Jack informs him as if Dean's supposed to already know that.

"What?"

"He promised to protect me." Jack looks down and then looks into Dean's eyes. He looks so much like Castiel in that moment that Dean almost drops the ax completely. "I know what his loss feels like."

"You don't have a fucking clue what his loss means to me," Dean tells himself to take a deep breath, but once he starts, it's like he can't stop and all that anger has to come out. "You don't have a fucking clue, Cas wasn't my father, Jack. He'd saved me more times than I can count and I'm sorry, but have you even met him? You know nothing about him, all you did was sockpuppet him to help you and now you're saying his loss means to you as much as it does to me? Do you know how much it hurts? Do you want to give up everything and never have to face the world without him again? I'm sorry, but have you lost all your remaining will to live? No? What a fucking surprise! You're half an archangel, the worst one that there even is and if you even can feel anything, then you don't feel half of what I'm feeling here, okay? So the next time you try to compare me and you, do me a favor and don't even start. Cas was everything to me and you used him and- and- I said I'm not in a mood for a talk right now!"

He rushes past Jack and into the house, he exits the house from the other side and stops for a while, looking at the ground. His heart is pounding in his chest and his breathing is too fast, but once he closes his eyes and concentrates enough, it's gone and all he's left with is the emptiness that he knows all too well by now.

After another deep breath, he sits down on the steps and all he does is listen to the surroundings. He hears birds. A lot of them. And crunching steps on the other side of the house. Muffled voices.

Dean drops the ax and looks at his Baby. She's dirtier than he ever remembers her being. There's a clear BITCH written on the backseat window, and the fact that the window is covered in enough dust to make it possible to write on it makes him even sadder. And when he realizes that it was that fucking bitch angel who had touched his car and written the word there, he feels angry. But on the outside? He doesn't do anything.

It's like he's lost his hope. There is no point in anything anymore and the world will be forever dark.

And all that because he lost him.

He lost him and this time, it's permanent.

xoXÖXox

As soon as Sam hears shouting, he drops his ax and runs back to the house. But all he sees when he arrives is his brother, rushing away from Jack, and the nephilim, looking sad and confused.

"What happened?" Sam asks when he gets closer. Jack turns to him with a slight frown.

"I don't- I . . . I don't know."

Sam winces as the door shuts loudly behind Dean. "Well, what did he say?"

Jack starts slowly, as if trying to say it exactly like Dean did. "He said that I have never met Castiel and therefore can't know what his loss means to him. He also said I should never compare what he feels to what I feel."

Sam purses his lips, knowing well that Jack carefully chose the words. He himself heard a few words here and there from what Dean was yelling.

"But I don't understand," Jack continues before Sam can say anything. "Why would he say that? I lost Castiel too."

Sam nods at that and blinks away his tears. "Cas . . . he wasn't our father, Jack," he explains. "What you're feeling . . . is different, and I know it hurts, but . . . not even I can imagine what it feels like to Dean."

"How is that possible?"

"Cas was my best friend, no doubt. And I loved him like a brother, you know? You chose him as your father, Jack, and even though you haven't really met him, you gave him your trust." Sam takes a deep breath and glances at the closed door of the house. "But for Dean . . . I think it's a different kind of love."

Jack takes a few seconds to process this. "So what you are saying is . . . that although we all loved Castiel . . . His relationship with Dean was stronger?"

"You could say that," Sam nods and clears his throat. He doesn't know if Jack fully understands, but he knows that it's not really his place to tell him. He's not even sure Dean knows how obvious he is, but Sam's known about his feelings for a while.

"Come on," Sam sighs. "You can help me with the pyre while Dean's . . . resting."

He manages a slight smile and turns around, walking back into the woods.

Jack follows him without a word.

xoXÖXox

The flames are high and the smoke is dark. This is it. He's gone. He'll never return to their lives. And all he'd left them with is . . . Jack. Dean doesn't even know how to feel after the kid told him he chose Cas as his father.

Did he even sockpuppet Cas at all? Was Cas really putting all his faith into Jack? Was Dean wrong about him? Was he another Claire?

For some reason, he can't even close his eyes. The fire is too mesmerizing, if that's the right word to use. Because it fucking hurts to watch his everything go up in flames. But he still can't look away. Because this is the last moment he's got.

His mouth is open and he can't help but think about everything he had to do to stand here, even though he tries really hard not too:

The room was a little bit darker when he walked in the third time. And Cas was already all wrapped up, prepared for what was coming next. Dean remembers what it was like walking towards him and holding back his tears, screams, and anger.

Now he's just exhausted.

When he put his arm under Cas' shoulders and the other one under his knees, he took a deep breath and lifted him up. He was heavy. And he expected his head to fall down on his shoulder like it did when he had carried him into the house, but it was covered in a sheet now and wrapped in the curtains and he couldn't move anymore.

Dean walked out of the house like that, his expression hard and cold. He didn't say anything when Sam offered his help. He walked up to the pyre and laid the body down, right next to Kelly, staying only a second longer than he'd planned to, and then climbing down and joining his brother and Jack in front of the house.

The flames are still burning and his mouth is still open and the smoke is still too dark. And he's still standing there, not sure if he can ever move again.

But he will. He has to.

Because Cas would have wanted him to carry on.

Well, I hope you liked it! Thanks for reading! :)

[ligbi]

Animorphs Liveblog #1

I borrowed Animorphs from some friends and liveblogged my thoughts for them. I thought some tumblr folks may enjoy them as well. Animorph content warning for fucked up shit. For kids!

The Invasion 1996 Jake is a Lizard, and this weird CG render of him in a shoe is actually pretty damn good for the time. I forgot about the flipbook corners. 

Everything I tell you is a lie, but you have to believe me The Andalites promised they'd rescue us, and knowing what I know I do not believe that a smidge Marco and Jake already already friends, Tobias is a new, awkward guy, Rachel is Jake's tall cool cousin, and Cassie is black and 'mythical' So begins the heteros Tell me more about Jake's brother Tom and how you two have become distant Cool one sentence into each girl and I love them both already. Fuck the patriarchy! But also being a girl in public is scary Ha. Ax murderers.at the construction site. Ax. They're 13 right? Babies but also I call bullshit on towns with walking distance malls Marco was right Jake the idiot Shit wait which one dies how bad will I regret reading this? I get Tobias man. Looking at that sky. Also Cassie just "ufo" Marco is looking to make a buck off a ufo sighting. Okay Jake is a dweeb so says Marco Oh no baby bird you're clearly the best dude curse eager bird men We all just stood there like fools Hey the ship is burned and some of it has been melted! Also blue lights because all technology has glowing blue lights Jake's family has a minivan (oh god these are small children), and Marco wants to be on Letterman. Letterman Oh god right it's '96 you have to Go Somewhere to Call Someone. Wow 96 was I was 5 I just turned 27 Technology Rachel wants to Solve the spaceship and Cassie points out Star Trek is monolinguistic. As with all series, Girls. Blue deer-taur with no real mouth and extra eyes on stalks with scorpion tail. I've been meaning to re-read Wrinkle in Time, but I think when I first read that at like, 10, I pictured those blind creatures like this Please note, I recall fully reading one (1) of these books ever to completion. Rachel turned into a squid in that one Yes Ax does look like he can kill. I assume he does at some point Jake is almost crying upon seeing Ax, who already feels like a friend. Due to time travel and reincarnation, I am scared to find out why this is Yes I Am Dying. Oh aliens. This is not Ax, is it? Whoops Cassie's family are vets. And she's ready to jump into helping Hey whoever you are, just saying, it sounds like you're implying literally every other alien in the universe wants to kill us. Which is fair but Yeerks. Rat sized gray-green slug parasites ...How does this Andalite (right?) know none of them are controlled by a Yeerk right now? Marco is a bit of a pragmatist Oh jeez lingo uh let's see: Yeerks have Bug Fighters, a Blade Ship, Dracon Beams which destroy things to a molecular level, Andalites have a Dome Ship and Z-Space is a thing Expected Yeerk takeover time: A year or less Yikes Hey Jake fuck you get the box Ugh so straight Got the cube and hey look a hologram of their family WOW MEAN Ok so most (all?) Andlaties have a morph power to Alteans! blend in and hide also we acknowledge they are young Cassie and Tobias for best kids right now Two red streaks for Yeerks Bug fighters these are He looks at Tobias and feels weird like a chill. Normally I'd call Gay but predestination/time-travel/something is up ...How do they know how long two Earth hours are? Oh shit Visser Three. And he can Morph that's uh legit concerning? How'd he get that and what horrible things have he done? Has? Have or has? Also, what WILL he do? Third black ship, and what's his alien touched Tobias' head and did/conveyed Something Oh cool construction equipment just pfffff'd out because a giant battleaxe ship with scimitar wings Was this ship designed by the Hork-Bajir, who have blades on their wrists elbows knees and tails, and t-rex feet and falcon-beaked snake heads with three horns. Who are good people but all (?) controlled Taxxons are Big centipedes with lobster claw hands, jello eyes, and a top mouth that's a pointy circle Again, I demand quick satisfaction as to the positive vibes they get from Andalite1 Ah Visser Three is a controller of an Andaltie. Who was that Andalite? Prince Elfangor-Sirinial-Shamtul is a mouthful So if he takes over enough places, Visser will become One. Who's the current One? Oh cool we're being targeted because we're over-populated compared to other species Humans behind the Visser? Is it ya'll? Please be ya'll I love me time-travel angst Now V3 is a big Monster and we're blowing up ships and I know this is a construction site but where is anyone else? Aw Jake you wanted to help. That's dumb but aw Death count: 1 Are Taxxons the ever-hungry aliens I've heard about? Or do the Yeerks just think it's fun to eat a dead guy? Oh cool those were Human Controllers and Jake seems to know one. I assume it's big bro? Most people are crying and Macro pukes I HEAR THAT FRIENDS Split up? Jinkies Rachel knows bad words. WHAT ARE THE WORDS K.A.APPLEGATE. TELL ME THE FORBIDDEN LANGUAGE (I assume Son of a Bitch from context but shout out to Rachel if it's Fucker) They can kind of speak English? Ghafrash? Hobo man: maybe dead? Probably dead Jake's strongest real memory is of aliens smiling at him. Get it boy-you're a child get nothing please So you're not close with Tobias, but you know he has a cat named Dude. Also: Cat is named Dude I love it BTW Jake, noticing another dude is Glowing? ;) Oh dang so Tobias doesn't know his Dad, Mom just left him around ten, and we're on a coast, with his aunt living on the other because his uncle is on this one How long does it take to morph? This sounds like a concerning amount of time Multiple minutes. Alright. Nightmareish. Side note: semi-crouching warped human with long butt and stubbed feet stage of morphing in the corner here Watching someone morph into a cat is giggle inducing. I will cherish these times won't I Telepathy is a good, easy answer to lots of questions about weird powers and communication Two year old string in a messy room. Boy Ha naked. Also the cat instincts mean ...oh dear this is gonna cause problems Why does Tobias get to decide Jake is the leader also why Jake? Not why like bleh why him but plot-wise something is the pre-meditated choice Homer the dog. You watch The Simpsons boy? Taking the dna puts the animal in a trance and it doesn't hurt to morph Bones feel like they should hurt yeah that sounds right Scrapping sounds are wonderful Right you're not just A Dog you're The Dog you took from Awww you're not a bad dog Jake. And Tobias is a good kid. And damn it I did not want to right about the brother. Cassie has a farm and big brother Tom is in a club called the Sharing He's obviously a Controller, but also "It's just sports" I'm pro-anti-sports but anti-cult clubs UGH WE HAVE TO RECYCLE Jake pls Wildlife rehabilitation. Convenient to touch wild animals also a cow Plus zoo mom so let's all be giraffes Dang kids with their fireworks, taking over humanity and making cops somehow worse Marco is scared and picky and right poor kid Who also has reasons? Tell me more Mom body was never found, Dad can't be around people. Ouch Cassie is not only cool enough to have clothes, but can control the morph enough to play centaur "We want them real bad" jesus yeerk cop, tone it down will ya? Hey you look like your brother- come to our yeerk cult Help endangered species? You mean like *eyebrow waggle* Is Tobias/Rachel a thing? CD game we were going to play on my computer. Wow Hey not-Tom, why would these kids have read anything in a newspaper? Wow this is shamelessly manipulative and creepy and thanks Applegate for teaching kids to be reasonably creeper out by overly forceful and manipulative folks Jake honey Marco is right please stop living in denial Let's remind Tobias, who is already a hawk, about the time limit Feathers made of wax. This boy is going to fly too long in the sun And then he was naked because boys don't care about that too much I guess?  So as long as the DNA isn't bad for any reason, the state of the animal doesn't matter. What about dead animals? Let Tobias be superman. Poor kid Yeerk pools have Kandrona rays, and Yeerks have to go back into a pool every three days. Yeerk home sun particles Protect this child who can't fight for himself but will fight for the world Time to infiltrate I guess? Gotta sneak into this night volleyball game They live near a beach I suspect this is Cali, like all kid lit about young teens unless it's from the UK Can you grab a morph from a friend if they've changed into a whatever? Kids and Adults? Smidge weird Poor actual Tom trying to protect Jake They Would notice a horse wouldn't they? Tobias hun no please don't make excuses I know being human sucks but come on Oh course the Assistant Principal is a big bad Convert or kill. Yeesh Evil cops also Cassie being Black makes vague threats uhhh worse Let Jake be a dog! Ok but just pet all the animals? Lizard yes but deer? Wolf? Buzzards? Wildcat? I just climbed into my locker all cool like playing it chill because everyone climbs into lockers all the time This is a very small lizard The animal brains being way more in control is fucked up Cool so you just almost was stepped on, lost a body part, and have a still semi-alive spider inside your body after having seen an alien be eaten and knowing your brother is alive but controlled and may be sent to kill you. For kids! And of course the brain slug pool is under the school Do ya'll remember that Nick show about the bully who like, was about to die or was cursed, and he was a dog and only one kid could hear him and no one remembered him and he had to do a bunch of good stuff to be human again? Locking children into animal forms is a special kind of 90's torture I think Rachel/Tobias is a hard thing and good because someone needs to love this kid my word I appreciate Marco though. Hey shit head this is a dumb plan but you're my best friend so I'm in or what fucking ever. Asshole I liked Cassie's little speech about Mother Earth Marco named the band. Marco is a good shit, but what does it even mean that Jake's always been a Lizard? Are you calling him cold-blooded? Flaky? A bug eater? No family guest passes for the zoo? I don't know what Bush Gardens are but is this that? Roller Coasters and Monkeys Big Jim the gentle gorilla. Also bless Jake for riling Marco up Let's drive! hits wall Go right says Jake. Marco goes left You had a chance at a rhino Marco has a dark and tanned face Male siberian tiger. I assume if you turn into THAT animal, you can be a boy turning into a girl hyena or a girl becoming a boy turtle right? He's majestic and doesn't seem like he cares about you as long as you don't run Lol ya'll almost died from a tiger? Sure you did Jake's mom is a writer who is opposed to any TV but her own. Dad is a jokester. Is it Jake's mom who dies? I know a mom dies Dad is a doctor Cassie where are you did you get home from the zoo are you okay? Okay Rachel and Tobias are just a thing already ok. Oh cool the cop has Cassie I fear for her We are Controllers. We are here to... Kandrona, Please give us the girl for... evil? Great plan If you're so advanced, why don't you have elevators- me at Akio So large underground city, small pool, cages 10 people per, aliens, construction equipment Can Tobias communicate with Cassie from where they are? Yeahhhh people volunteering to be controlled by evil alien slugs sounds sadly right. And hey, you get to watch TV Poor Tom. And Rachel is ready to fuck shit up. One alien of each two kinds dead, and a human controller flung somewhere to maybe live? Elephant and Tiger time And Marco is a gorilla Later you would think about this moment WHY WHAT'S ABOUT TO HAPPEN TOM'S FREE AND WE'RE SAVING CASSIE RIGHT? Can horses stairs? V3 thinks they're Andalites. Ouch. Also where's Ax? 8 legs and 8 arms with 3 fingered claws, and 8 heads, tall as a tree. Vriska's aliensona Oh good and it shoots fireballs from its mouth Mouths Jesus Marco just twisted a guy in half and his guts spilled out. Alien guy but still Gotta love half morphed elephant ladies with shriveled trunk faces Something happened to the cop, and Cassie won't say what. Hum Tom is captured again. But you all saves One (1) human woman. It's a fucking start kids. And Tobias done fucked up. Wonderful. End Book #1. 

Oh cool now I can finally start listening to Morph Club, an Animorph pocast by some cool kids

[twelveunitsshy-blog]

Stranded

I'd wanted to do so much for MeiCree Week, but the semester got really dangerous for me and I had to put off all the stuff I had in mind (MeiCree Week also fell on the same week as Finals Week).  Thankfully, I got this one done.  Kinda.  It was rushed, so I didn't get around to doing exactly what I wanted to do with it, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.

--------------

Oneshot

Genre: Romance

Pairing(s): McCree/Mei

Rating: T

Summary: Mei and McCree get separated from the rest of the Overwatch team and end up stranded in a cabin until help can arrive.

For the Day 4: Weather prompt for MeiCree Week.

Warning: I don't really know too much about the whole Ecopoint: Antarctica thing or Mei's backstory, so I thought I'd take some liberties here.  Apologies to lore fans.

--------------

Stranded

There had been an avalanche and Mei could barely remember how they got to their current location.  All she knew was that she was having flashbacks of that horrible event at Ecopoint.  Only this was worse.  They had access to a cabin and little else.  There were some dry goods that were stored at the cabin thankfully, but they had only the technology they brought with them, which was very little.  If things became terminal here there was no chance for cryostasis.

She tried contacting the rest of their team several times to no avail.  She was thankful, however, that she was at least able to contact McCree.  Their communication devices had a pretty long range.  How far could the rest of their group have gotten?

She could feel herself going into a panic, so she lay her hands on top of her head and took deep breaths.  "It'll be okay.  This isn't Ecopoint and we're not experiencing overpowering weather conditions.  It'll be okay," she told herself.

She almost squealed when she heard McCree come into the room.  Thank goodness she wasn't there alone.

"Found some essentials.  Axe fer choppin' firewood.  There's plenty of trees around.  Even found an old weather radio just in case."

That was good to know, but she sure hoped they wouldn't need it.

"Whoever was staying here also stocked the place with firewood so if the others can come for us within the next few days, we won't have to fend fer ourselves."

That didn't make her feel any better either.  "Well, there are dry goods, dry milk and canned goods here as well as bottles of water.  Enough for several weeks."

"Don't wanna get that comfortable here.  Let's hope fer somethin' a little sooner."

She nodded.  Even though she was always ready for cold weather, she didn't want to have to go through what she went through back then.  What a nightmare.  What a long and lonely nightmare.

"But don't you worry about a thing.  I'll make sure to protect you.  I've got survival training so I can keep a fire goin'.  If nothin' else, we'll be warm."

But for how long?  What if some monstrous storm blew in and kept them from even opening the door?  What if they ended up having to stay there in the freezing cold for weeks?  What if one of them got sick or hurt?  Neither of them had much medical expertise.

There were so many other things that could go wrong.

What if the owners of the cabin came back and didn't want them there?  What if the owners weren't in the mood for sharing?  The place had obviously been stocked only recently.  Someone was bound to return soon.

--------------

They had a simple dinner of rice and beans.  It didn't sound very tasty to her at first, but once she realized that her tummy was grumbling, she thought she'd try some.  It was actually very good.

"Where did you learn to make something so simple taste so good?" she asked.

McCree chuckled.  "I lived a rough life when I was young, so I learned to make do with what I had.  It turns out you can do a lot with simple foods."

Mei hummed happily.  "Well, it's delicious.  Thank you."

"Yer welcome."  He had finished eating long before she had and he was taking a look at the fireplace.  "I won't make a fire til after sunset.  In the meantime, we should stay active so we don't get too cold."

Mei frowned.  He already seemed to be shivering.  Personally, she was fine with the current temperature.  That was due to her ever-present winter jacket.  She watched as he wrapped his serape around himself.  "What did you have in mind?" she asked.

"I don't know.  We could play games or somethin'.  Somethin' to take our minds off the cold."

"Games?  Like indoor sports or something?"

"Right.  We should run around or somethin'," he said.

She nodded.  "We could play hide and seek."

"Great idea, li'l darlin'.  Let's do that."

It seemed pretty silly to do something so childish but it was the only game she could think of at the time.

They played rock-paper-scissors to see who would be 'it' first.  She lost.

"Okay.  We'll keep score.  Best of three wins.  The table will be the safe zone.  I will count to 20 before I come looking for you," Mei told him.

"This should be interestin'," he added.

Mei covered her eyes and started counting without warning.  She could hear him scrambling to find a place to hide.

"Ready or not.  Here I come," she announced.

She hadn't heard the creaky staircase, so she deduced that he was still downstairs.  After searching the kitchen and the bathroom, she really began to wonder where he was.  Then she heard spurs jingling behind the stairs and giggled to herself.

"You should have taken your boots off," she called out.

As soon as she got close to the stairs, she heard socked feet stumbling around behind her.  McCree had made it to the table.  "Too bad, li'l darlin'.  Maybe next time."

She laughed.  "You're pretty good at this game, aren't you?  How did you do it?"

"Well, when ya had yer back turned, I just tossed my boots behind the staircase," he told her with a laugh.  "Alright, my turn."

When he started counting, she tiptoed away.  There was a perfect little closet just up the stairs that anyone would miss if they weren't paying attention.  She could risk the creaky stairs and hide there.

Once there, she sat quietly on the floor.  She knew that he knew that she'd come up there.  Once she couldn't hear him moving around anymore, she slowly opened the door and peeped out.  When she saw that he was standing there, she squealed and backed further into the closet.

McCree walked into the closet so he could tag her properly.  "Gotcha fair and square.  Don't try to get away."

Mei surrendered and let him put his hand on her shoulder.  She pouted, but only for a moment.  "Just tell me how."

"I'm a pretty good tracker.  I heard the stairs when ya came up.  The rest of the cabin floors are kinda noisy, so I figured ya went here."  He looked around the closet.  "It's warmer here than the rest of the house.  Let's stay here for a while."

The closet wasn't very big.  They both barely fit once the door was closed.

"I'll see if I can find a light switch," Mei said, suddenly feeling nervous.

Maybe this was one of those closets that had no inward light switch.  She hadn't really checked.  Then again, she didn't think they'd be in there together trying to keep warm.

"The hot water heater must be below us or somethin'," he hypothesized.

"Maybe," she agreed quietly.

They stood there for a while and she couldn't really think of anything more to say.

McCree moved a little closer to her.  "Nah, I think it's you.  Guess ya radiate a lotta heat."

Well, she did have on a huge jacket, but she was beginning to think it was something else.  Maybe it was him.  He was the one who was radiating heat.  She could even feel it through her jacket.

Mei tried her best to look up at his face, but it was too dark to make out any features.  It was probably for the best.  She knew she wouldn't be able to look at him for very long anyway, since he was so close to her.

And McCree was being pretty quiet.  She wondered if he was trying to look at her in the dark as well.  She wanted to say something, but she wasn't sure what she should say.

After a few moments, she felt his hand touch her arm and she gasped, flinching a bit from the contact.

"Oh, sorry.  It's a li'l close in here.  I can barely move," McCree said.  "But yer really warm.  Do ya mind?"

Did she mind what?

She was barely able to ask herself the question before she felt McCree's other hand on her other arm and he pressed their bodies closer together.  It seemed like a good idea to Mei to hold her breath and squeeze her eyes shut.  In a weird way it was like he was hugging her.

Without thinking about it, she put her arms around him and snuggled in closer to feel his body heat.  And when she finally began breathing again, she inhaled his scent—the faint smell of old aftershave, cigar smoke, gunpowder and something else she couldn't quite put her finger on.  It wasn't a good smell, yet for some reason it seemed to rouse everything behind her eyes.

Mei wondered what it would be like to have more of that scent all around her.  She imagined his hands on other parts of her body.  She began contemplating more active ways that they could keep each other warm.  

Wait!  The two of them had worked together often enough and she'd known McCree for a while now.  So, why was she suddenly having less-than-wholesome thoughts about him?  Was it their closeness?  Was it his scent?  Was it a combination of the two?

"M-maybe we should think about keeping warm some other way," Mei finally stammered.  She didn't want to keep thinking those inappropriate thoughts, yet what she'd said had sounded more suggestive than she'd wanted it to sound.  "How about building that fire?" she added quickly.

"Oh, sorry.  Ya never gave me permission.  I kinda just...," McCree said, voicing an incomplete thought.  "Yeah, let's go build that fire."

--------------

Soon....

She watched as McCree began setting a fire.  He'd obviously done this plenty of times before.  If they'd had him around during the Ecopoint crisis, they may not have had to resort to cryostasis.  Then again, during the Ecopoint event they still hadn't had enough food or supplies to last until help arrived 10 years later.

Would they be stuck here in this cabin for the next 10 years with no possibility of cryostasis as a solution?  No, there was no storm.  They were just temporarily snowed in.  And they couldn't communicate with anyone.  But unlike Ecopoint, no one knew where they were.

Mei could feel her eyes beginning to water.  A little sniffle called McCree's attention to her.  She didn't really want him to see her cry.  But there was nothing she could do about it now.

"What's the matter, li'l darlin'?" he asked.

Mei wiped frantically at her tears.  Did she really want to tell him?

He finished setting the fire, then joined her on the couch.

"I'm sorry.  It's just that...," she began.  She didn't really want to talk about something so melancholy when they were trying to keep their hopes up.

"Come on.  You can tell me.  I know somethin's been botherin' ya since we got here."

He was right.  This had been bothering her since the avalanche.  She wiped at her eyes again and sniffled.

McCree pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to her.  Did people even carry handkerchiefs anymore?  Apparently one person did.  She just looked at it, then looked at him, more tears blurring her vision.

"Oh, don't worry.  It's clean."

Mei burst out laughing.  "Thank you."  A dirty handkerchief was the least of her concerns right now.  But he had made her laugh so that was a plus in her book.

"Now, what are those tears about?"

She used his hanky and sighed.  "You may have heard about the Ecopoint incident...."

McCree raised his eyebrows.  "Oh, I see.  Must bring back some pretty bad memories fer ya," he went on.

Mei nodded.

"Wanna talk about it?  It might make ya feel better."

This time she didn't hesitate to hand out all the gruesome details.  She told him about the horrors of the times before and after the event.  And how alone she was once she found out that she was surrounded by dead colleagues.

"I had nightmares for the longest time after that.  I still have nightmares," she told him.

"I don't know what to say.  Musta been terrible.  Is that why ya always have that giant coat on?"

She hadn't really thought about it that way.  But no matter what time of year and no matter how hot the weather is, she still wears her jacket.

"Ya know, in case ya get caught up in somethin' like that again?" McCree added.

"I...I suppose," Mei murmured.  "I hadn't really considered it."

"Well, considerin' what's goin' on  now, it's probably a good idea to always be prepared," McCree told her.

She grinned and sighed.  "I guess you're right....  Thank you for hearing me out.  I've talked about it before but only in reports.  Never to a friend."

"No problem.  Anything ya wanna talk about, you can talk to me."

This wasn't a half bad way to spend her time in what could possibly end up being another Ecopoint disaster.  Chatting and playing hide and seek with a buddy.  At least she wasn't alone.  And at least the person she was with didn't seem to mind listening to her.

--------------

Later in the night, the two of them got as close to the fire as they could without catching fire themselves.

"It's actually pretty nice here.  It's quiet and no city lights comin' in through the windows.  Just the light of the fire reflectin' off the walls."

"Would you prefer I turn on a light?" Mei asked.

"Nah.  This is good, just like this.  Takes me back to simpler times.  I imagine this is what it woulda been like livin' in them old cabins in the wintertime in them old western movies."

She nodded.  "Sounds peaceful and romantic."

"I always thought so."

"So, is that the reason you dress the way you do?  Because of those old movies?"

McCree thought for a moment.  "Yeah.  They had a lotta influence on about everything I do," he told her.  "There's just somethin' about the way they lived and the stuff they did that just appealed to me."

"Both side of it from what I've heard.  You were some kind of outlaw before, right?  Then you became a good guy.  A hero."

He laughed.  "I don't know about all that, li'l darlin'.  Just had to change my ways.  Didn't sit right with me, ya know?"

Mei nodded slowly.  "Sounds like guilt.  I can relate to guilt.  Just in a different way."

"If yer referrin' to that Ecopoint stuff, ya shouldn't feel guilty about that.  You had no control over it."

"But why me?" Mei asked.  "There were people there who had families.  I was just a nobody with no one to go home to.  Just my research."

"Now don't go sayin' that.  I know ya feel bad about those other scientists dyin', but you should never regret livin'."  McCree looked at her for a long time.  "Besides, if you'da met their fate, I never woulda had the privilege of knowin' ya."

Mei smiled a little.  "Oh, you're just saying that to make me feel better."

"Naw, li'l darlin'.  I'm bein' sincere here.  I'm glad I met ya."

"Thank you.  I'm glad I met you too," she said.

Mei watched as McCree scooted closer to her.  "And I'm glad yer so warm," he added.

Maybe he was just trying to distract her from her own thoughts.

"Oh, how rude of me," Mei said.  She finally thought to take off her jacket and share it with him.  She wasn't sure if she did it out of kindness or out of an excuse to be even closer to him.  "There.  Is that better?"

"Much better, li'l darlin'.  Thank ya kindly."

Then McCree did something she wasn't expecting.  He kissed her on the cheek and his beard tickled the side of her face.  She could feel herself blushing and hoped that it wasn't easy to see in the firelight.  All those inappropriate thoughts were coming back full force and she had to look away.  "Y-you're welcome."

"Sorry if I'm makin' ya feel uncomfortable.  I'll stop," he said quietly.

It wasn't like she wanted him to stop.  She just didn't understand these sudden and overpowering imaginings.  And she wasn't sure if he was just being nice or if he was actually flirting with her.  Or maybe he was just bored.  There was no way of knowing really.

Either way, she didn't want him to get the wrong idea.  While it was indeed making her feel uncomfortable, it wasn't because she didn't like it.  So, she summoned up the nerve to give him a quick kiss on the cheek as well.  But she wasn't sure what she should say, so she simply gave a small smile.

The look on McCree's face, well, she wasn't really sure what to make of it.  All she knew was that his face was inching ever closer to hers.  Well, she knew exactly what to make of THAT.  He was about to kiss her.  But why?  Sure, it seemed like the right thing to do at the time.  And she knew why her own face was slowly inching toward his—her inappropriate thoughts and his scent were to blame.  But she had to wonder what was going through his mind to make him even want to attempt to kiss her.

Their lips touched and Mei considered grabbing his sideburns and pulling his face harder against hers.  Thankfully she didn't because their kiss was nice.  It was slow and quiet and gentle.  She could only sigh dreamily in response.

McCree seemed to do the same.

After a long silence, McCree cleared his throat.  "That wasn't too forward of me, was it?"

"N-no," she stammered.

"Wasn't too weird or nothin',  right?"

"N-no," she repeated.

He breathed what appeared to be a sigh of relief.  Then he frowned.  "Was it okay fer ya?"

Mei simply nodded.

"Mind if I—" McCree began.

He was interrupted by the sound of one of their communication devices: "Jesse? Mei?  Do you copy?"

It was Mercy!  They'd come back!  What had taken them so long?

Mei scrambled toward their discarded communicators and quickly answered, "Dr. Ziegler!  What happened?  Where are you?"

"We couldn't get past the avalanche and there was no good place to land for a rescue, so we went back for some suitable equipment," Angela told her.  "The weather's getting bad.  I'm glad we made it back before it got even worse."

"Oh, thank goodness," Mei said with a smile.  She turned to McCree, who was staring at his hands.  He didn't seem as happy as she did about their rescue.

"We're following your signal.  ETA: fifteen minutes," Angela said.

"Copy.  Mei out," she said, switching off the communicator.  She crawled back over to where McCree was sitting huddled in her coat.  "They'll be here soon.  We're getting out of here."

"In less than a day.  That's really somethin'," McCree said.

Not only did he not look happy about it, but he didn't sound happy about it either.  "What's wrong?" Mei asked, joining him in her jacket again.

"Well, I was gettin' kinda used to the idea of bein' here cuddled up with ya.  To be honest, I kinda saw this as an answer to my prayers.  I been lookin' fer a reason to get closer to ya," McCree admitted.

Was she hearing this right?

"But a girl like you would never wanna be around a guy like me.  So, I was kinda hopin' this'd be my chance to woo ya, I guess," he went on.

It must have worked.  She'd never even considered him as anything more than a friend until she was in that closet with him.  Not like she didn't find him attractive.  McCree was a very attractive man.  But she never really even thought of co-workers in that way.

"Thought maybe we'd be here a few days and I'd have a chance to win ya over," McCree explained.  He chuckled.  "Guess it wasn't meant to be."

Mei didn't mind being around him.  And it was so brave of him to admit something like that right to her face.  Well, he wasn't looking at her.  He was staring at the fire....

Everything was happening so fast that she couldn't think straight.  She wanted to say something, but she wasn't sure what she should say.

So, instead of trying to use words that would probably fall short of her meaning, she kissed him on the cheek again and gave another small smile.  Perhaps that would get her message across.

McCree finally looked at her and smirked.  "Oh," he said as if he knew what she was thinking.  "Well then, li'l darlin'.  Mind if I kiss ya one more time?"

"I don't mind," Mei told him, practically falling against him for another gentle touching of their lips.