#literally anything happens and mum swoops in like ���oh so shes been home an hour and she still hasnt done her chores”

[worlds-okayest-fag]

hey google how do i not cry?

[seriouslyhooked]

I Luv You (A CS HS AU)

Reader prompted CS High School AU oneshot where Emma and Killian are friends but Emma wants more. There’s miscommunication (Emma thinks he loves someone else), but ultimately a cute and fluffy ending. Available on FF here and AO3 here. 

A/N: Hey all! I have had quite a few of you ask for more high school AUs for Emma and Killian, and my muse rarely trends in that direction. But, after many many months of trying to find a story that worked, I stumbled across this song, ‘I Luv You’ by Sofia Carson and R3MIX. One of the lyrics has been stuck in my head on repeat, and I’ve thought of how wonderful it would be to incorporate into a CS drabble. As such, this story centers around Emma and Killian meeting in their senior year of high school. Killian is new to their school, having moved from the UK, but they’ve instantly clicked and prom season is coming up. Emma wants to go with Killian, but she’s aware that he might not be over someone else from his past, then, because I’m addicted to fluff, it all turns out to be a great big misunderstanding. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy and thanks so much for reading!

Everything’s going to be fine. I can handle this. I can get over him. Maybe? Someday? Oh God.

Closing her eyes and taking a steadying breath, Emma shook away the anxious thoughts that had clung to her for weeks. She didn’t want to linger in them, but she couldn’t let them go. Everywhere she went they followed, and there seemed to be no reprieve. As a result, she was a stressed-out mess, and her ability to hide her feelings was growing weaker and weaker by the minute.

“I don’t know why you’re so worried about this, Ems,” her friend Ruby said casually from where she was perched on Emma’s kitchen countertop, eating directly out of a tub of Ben & Jerry’s chunky monkey.

Ruby’s legs dangled as she swiped the last of the ice cream from her spoon greedily. She’d downed a full carton just this afternoon, the calories and sugar rush a non-issue. Emma knew if she tried that her mother would probably have a fit, but Ruby could get away with anything in the Nolan house. Emma’s parents had adored her since Emma and Ruby’s first day of kindergarten all those years ago when Ruby announced to the class that Emma was her ‘bestest friend’ and anyone who messed with her was ‘gonna know her wrath.’ At age five Emma had no idea what that meant, but to this day her Mom and Dad adored Ruby. She was loyal and courageous, and she’d lived up to her promise, proving to be the best friend Emma could ask for.

“I’m not worried,” Emma replied, but the declaration was hollow and lacked conviction.

“You’re gonna need to work on your acting, girl,” Ruby said with a sigh and a sad headshake, as if Emma’s attempt at seeming okay was just pitiable. “But seriously, all this stressing is for nothing. Killian is totally going to ask you to prom. He’s gonna swoop in with everything but a white horse, tell you he loves you, and steal your heart.”

“Ruby,” Emma whispered, chastising her friend but without much conviction. She wanted to reprimand Ruby for her fanciful ideas, but she couldn’t form more words in the face of someone stating exactly what she dreamed of.

“And honestly, it’s about time. You’ve been dancing around each other for ages. I mean I love a good slow burn, but this is just ridiculous.”

It certainly felt like Ruby was right, but Emma knew better than to believe that. No matter how many butterflies might take flight within her every time she saw him, or how many times her thoughts drifted to the handsome boy who’d become one of her closest friends, Emma knew that the feelings in her heart were one sided. Killian was in love with someone else, a girl back where he was from who he’d known before moving here. She still had his heart, and so Emma never could. She only wished that everyone else understood, maybe then they’d stop always talking like the two of them being together was a given.

“You’re one to talk. Dee, asked you to prom literally months ago, before prom was even announced.”

“Of course she did. She’s my girlfriend. Plus, she wanted to lock me down. I’m a hot commodity, as you well know.”

Emma rolled her eyes at Ruby’s antics. Her best friend loved to talk a big game, but since meeting her girlfriend, Dorothy, last year she’d been nothing but the picture of fidelity. She was smitten as could be and very much in love, but Ruby was determined to be considered a ‘wild child’ and Dorothy, or Dee, as everyone called her, was only happy to oblige.

“Okay well new rule, happily coupled off ‘besties’ don’t get to tell the single one not to worry.”

“Ugh, fine. But only because I love you and you used the word ‘besties’ with only limited sarcasm. I’m totally wearing you down.”

Emma bit back a smile and shook her head, but she was grateful for the out Ruby provided her. It wasn’t her friend’s natural instinct to walk back her opinion, and it showed Emma how much their friendship mattered to Ruby that she’d even try to do so.

“Also, I may or may not have agreed to be part of a conspiracy meant to distract you and then guide you to an important event that I cannot actually tell you about because I swore myself to secrecy.”

“Come again?” Emma asked, totally confused even as her pulse began to beat in faster time. Secret plot? What the heck was that? And why did she feel like it involved a certain hot, charismatic, and irresistible boy she could never stop thinking about?

“Wish I could explain, but that’s the whole thing about swearing yourself to secrecy, you kind of have to mean it. Mums the word, or whatever people say.”

“Ruby, what did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything except for making one teeny tiny little promise.”

“And that promise was…?”

“To make sure you stayed right here until…” she glanced at the time on the stove and smiled, “Now. All right, two minutes from now, but still. You get the drift.”

“Ruby, I don’t understand.”

“Emma,” Ruby said taking Emma’s hand and squeezing it gently, “You know I would never steer you wrong, right? I can’t get into it, but let’s just say there’s a reason I’ve been promising you that everything for prom would work out.”

Emma took Ruby’s words in and did the simple math: Ruby had been telling her not to worry about Killian asking because she knew he was planning to. He had told Ruby somehow, convincing her to help him with this surprise, and Ruby had agreed. It made Emma’s heart thump loudly in her chest over and over again, but then dread crept in. He was going to ask her to prom, but it was going to be a friend asking a friend. Somehow that was worse than not being asked at all. It would mean being so close to what she wanted, but still so painfully far away.

“Killian,” Emma whispered, her lips not daring to utter more than his name as the nerves took over.

“Yes, Killian,” Ruby said with a gleam in her eye, hopping off the table and straightening out Emma’s hair and her outfit like a personal stylist with a critical eye. “Don’t worry, you look totally kick ass, and so my work here is done. He’ll be here any minute, and I think it’s best if I get out of here before he does. Wouldn’t want to stifle any moments with my ever-present wit.”

Emma stood there in shock, watching her friend grab her bag and sashay out of the kitchen. Emma heard her retreating footsteps and barely managed to all out “Wait, Ruby!” before the front door closed. Ruby was gone, having departed the scene in a haste on par with that cartoon roadrunner she used to watch as a kid.

For a moment Emma warred with herself about what to do. She wanted desperately to wait here and to let him ask her. Maybe it would be more than a friend asking a friend. Maybe something had happened with the girl back home. Maybe he was free, free to love her, to choose her, to want her back… but then again maybe her greatest worries were exactly right. Maybe the nagging voice in the back of her mind that said something so perfect could never work out was correct. Either way she panicked, choosing self-preservation over facing what may come.

Leaving everything behind, Emma snuck out the sliding back door, breaking out in a run from the porch and heading into the thick grove of trees behind her home. There was a well-worn walking path that headed deep into the woods, and Emma knew it well, well enough to veer off of it and find her way to the one place she could imagine any kind of comfort at a time like this – the meadow.

Not far from her house there was a private glen that ran along the river, out of the way of any foot traffic that may come through the bramble of these woods. Emma had found it as a child, and for some reason no one ever seemed able to find her there. She could get lost for hours in that grove, enjoying the sun and the flowers and the sound of running water coursing by. It was close to home, but felt lightyears away and in that glen she could be anything and anyone. Her imagination was free there and her cares were far away. It was her special place, the one she never shared, the one she kept so close to her heart it felt like only hers. But then, on a whim, she’d brought Killian there, and though it was scary to do that, he’d reacted in the perfect way.

“It’s otherworldly, Emma. I can understand your love for this spot. I can think of no better place that I’ve ever been before.”  

Emma held back tears as she approached this little oasis, knowing that it wouldn’t hold the answers that she wanted. Instead it would likely just remind her of Killian, and all that she wanted but that they just couldn’t have.

The closer she got, however, the more Emma realized that something was different. It was early spring, but she saw bright colors from afar. They were similar to the wildflowers that bloomed in May and June, but it was too early for them. Only when she got closer did she realize what was happening. The flowers here were real but were not wild. They were an assortment of every kind of blossom she’d ever loved and they had been placed by someone, filling the space in an attempt to recreate the most magical moments this meadow had to bring.

It dawned on her that no one would know to do this but Killian, and as she got closer Emma felt the tears brought on by his sweetness. By the time she was at the meadow’s edge, tears were streaming down her face, and she didn’t bother wiping them away as her hand came over her mouth.

There must be thousands of flowers here, and Emma had no idea how he could have possibly done this. Where would he even find so many flowers? And how could he have time? It would have taken him all day to do this, and so much longer to think of it. This was so much effort to go through for a friend, it almost made her think that she had to be wrong. He must feel the same. He must –

“I had pictured this going a little differently,” a voice said and Emma whipped around to see Killian, looking at her with a warm smile. He was genuinely glad to see her, but the bashfulness on his face was unmistakable and it made him look even more handsome. That earnest feeling mixed with seeing him dressed up, well it drove her a little wild, but she didn’t dare to move, waiting for him to approach her instead. “But I should have known you’d find your own way. You always do.”

“Why?” Emma asked, and Killian’s brow furrowed before she elaborated. “Why did you do all of this?”

“Because you deserve nothing less,” he countered, taking her hand though his blue eyes stayed locked on hers. “I did this because I’ve been wanting to ask you something for a very long time. I’ve gone back and forth about when and how. I wanted it to be right, but I couldn’t decide how. It’s just – well it’s complicated. Us being friends, it’s amazing and I’ve never had someone in my world like you, and I was afraid I’d muck it up, so I…”

He trailed off, his hand scratching behind his ear in a show of embarrassment and Emma swallowed down the hurt as best she could. She had been right. This was a prom proposal based in friendship, nothing more. He didn’t feel the same. He didn’t want her. He was just kind and good and perfect and he wanted to give her a lovely memory even if he couldn’t give her his love.

“Emma Nolan, will you -,”

Before he could get the words out Emma interrupted him, afraid that if he asked she’d break down in front of him and give herself away. This was a nightmare right now and she couldn’t bear it. “Killian… I’m sorry, I can’t.”

Before he could respond, she sprinted back towards the house, tears falling as she raced through the backwoods. Through the haze of her adrenaline, she heard him call her name, and then she felt his hand on her arm, halting her, holding her steady.

“Emma, love, I don’t understand. Have I done something? Is there…” his voice grew fraught and tense. “Is there someone else?”

“Of course there is!” she exclaimed, “But not for me. For you!”

“I don’t understand,” he replied, looking genuinely perplexed.

“Of course you don’t,” she said, a sad laugh emanating from her as she waved her hands in dismay. “I love you, Killian.”

“I love you too,” he replied immediately, and she shook her head.

“No, not as a friend. I love you. Like for real.”

“Emma, I feel the same way about you. I’ve been trying to tell you forever, but every time I tried you shut me down.”

“I had to,” she cried out. “Because you’re not over her.”

“Over who?”

“Merida.”

“Who?” he asked, sounding completely unaware of the name of the girl he loved.

“You know, the girl Liam’s always reminding you about.”

At the mention of the name Killian still looked confused and then he laughed. Wait, he’s laughing? Why is he laughing? This is serious! Before she could get angry though he pulled her to him, distracting her with his nearness as the sound of his voice washed over her.

“God I could kill my brother for this, but I haven’t got the time. Emma, ‘Merida’ is not some long-lost love I’m pining away for. She’s a seventy-six-year-old Scottish woman who used to be our neighbor.”

“Oh.” What else was there to say? Clearly she’d been an idiot.

“The only girl I’ve ever pined for has golden hair, jade colored eyes, and a bit of a temper.”

“Hey, I don’t -,” Killian interrupted her with a kiss she never saw coming, but that Emma immediately melted into. How could she fight with someone when they could do this instead? God it was perfect, everything she’d ever dreamed of, and even more he loved her! He’d said he loved her right? Oh please let her have heard that right. She waited when they broke apart, hoping he’d reiterate the words she’d always craved.

“She’s also brilliant and beautiful and bold. She’s kind and honest, fair and good. She’s always looking out for the people who she loves, and by God when she smiles at me, it’s like heaven itself made just for me.”

Emma looked at his face, searching for any trace of deceit, but there was none. He was pouring his heart out to her and laying it all on the line. It was just what she’d always wanted.

“I love you, Emma. I knew I would from the moment that we met. It’s you Emma. The girl I can’t get over is you, and I have no plans of ever trying. You’re it for me. I know we’re young, but I don’t care because -,”

This time it was her turn to pull him for a kiss, and she couldn’t help herself. After months of wanting him, he was finally hers, or maybe he had been all along. It felt so good to finally have this, to know that the dream she’d been waiting for was even better than her imagination could fathom, and only when they broke apart did she realize what this meant.

“Oh my God I messed everything up,” she said, hiding her face in his neck in embarrassment. “You tried to ask me to prom in the most romantic way and I ruined it.”

“I wasn’t planning to ask you to prom, Emma.”

“You weren’t?”

“No, love I was asking you to be mine, just as I’m yours. But as for ruining things, surely you must know you never could,” he said, his fingers running through her hair as he gazed at her adoringly. “You’ve made this the best day I’ve ever known. You told me you loved me. You let down the last bit of wall that was separating us. Everything’s been said now. There’s no secrets, no more doubts. You know my heart and I know yours. I couldn’t ask for more. And as for prom, if you want to go then we’ll go. I want to be wherever you are, Emma. For me it’s just that simple.”

“I want that too,” Emma said, kissing him again and feeling the lightness and joy that came with love that was reciprocal and true. After all the heart ache, they were together, and Emma knew their love would be forever. No matter what may come, or where they went from here, they were just meant to be. Always had been, always would be.

And though they spent the next few hours surrounding themselves in their newly found bliss, they eventually concurred that prom was a must. After all, Ruby would kill her if she didn’t go, and with Killian by her side it was bound to be a night she’d always remember and never forget.  

…………….

You the type of guy to write a song about You're laid back, nobody know what's on your mind We been talking for a while now (We been talking for a while now) And I been falling for a while now You say that everything with you is fine Even though we're always hanging out I get the feeling that you're not around, yeah

We were always up to something Now you're all in your head

I love you But I wish it wasn't true 'Cause I know you think of her When I'm lying next to you I love you And I don't know what to do 'Cause you can't get over her And I can't get over you

You the type of guy to tell your mom about You're laid back, but running circles round my mind I been falling for a while now (I been falling, I been falling, I been falling) But you been lying for a while now You say that everything with you is fine Even though we're always hanging out I get the feeling that you're not around, yeah

We were always up to something Now you're all in your head

I love you But I wish it wasn't true 'Cause I know you think of her When I'm lying next to you I love you And I don't know what to do 'Cause you can't get over her And I can't get over you (I can't get over you)

I love you And I don't know what to do 'Cause you can't get over her And I can't get over you

Post-Note: So there we have it. I hope you guys have enjoyed this little drabble, and to my lovely readers who always ask me for more bisexual Ruby representation, I had you guys in mind with this one too. I know it’s a very short feature, and I am usually very committed to the Ruby/Graham pairing, but I’m happy to share the love for everyone that I can. I wish the show had developed a lot of these characters and relationships more, but hey, there’s always fanfic! Anyway, thank you all for reading and hope you have a great weekend!  

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9,Part 10,Part 11, Part 12,Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24,Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30, Part 31,Part 32, Part 33, Part 34, Part 35, Part 36, Part 37, Part 38,Part 39,Part 40, Part 41, Part 42, Part 43, Part 44, Part 45,Part 46,Part 47, Part 48, Part 49, Part 50, Part 51, Part 52, Part 53,Part 54,Part 55, Part 56, Part 57, Part 58, Part 59, Part 60,Part 61,Part 62, Part 63, Part 64, Part 65, Part 66, Part 67, Part 68,Part 69,Part 70, Part 71, Part 72, Part 73, Part 74, Part 75,Part 76,Part 77, Part 78, Part 79, Part 80, Part 81, Part 82, Part 83,Part 84,Part 85, Part 86, Part 87, Part 88, Part 89, Part 90,Part 91,Part 92, Part 93, Part 94, Part 95, Part 96, Part 97, Part 98,Part 99,Part 100, Part 101, Part 102, Part 103,Part 104, Part 105,Part 106, Part 107,Part 108, Part 109, Part 110,Part 111, Part 112,Part 113, Part 114, Part 115,Part 116, Part 117, Part 118,Part 119,Part 120, Part 121, Part 122, Part 123,Part 124, Part 125,Part 126, Part 127, Part 128,Part 129,Part 130, Part 131,Part 132,Part 133, Part 134, Part 135, Part 136, Part 137, Part 138,Part 139,Part 140, Part 141, Part 142, Part 143, Part 144, Part 145,Part 146, Part 147, Part 148,Part 149, Part 150, Part 151,Part 152, Part 153, Part 154, Part 155, Part 156, Part 157, Part 158,Part 159, Part 160, Part 161, Part 162, Part 163, Part 164,Part 165, Part 166, Part 167, Part 168, Part 169, Part 170,Part 171,Part 172, Part 173, Part 174, Part 175, Part 176,Part 177, Part 178, Part 179 , Part 180, Part 181, Part 182, Part 183, Part 184, Part 185, Part 186, Part 187, Part 188, Part 189

[goonlalagoon]

Russet fur

Read on Ao3

In my defence, no-one ever told me why I wasn't supposed to go visit grandma. Sure, there were the usual 'path through the woods' risks, but that wasn't a real reason, not when we'd all played in the woods for years. They didn't even give me a bogus explanation, just forbade it.

At a certain age, being forbidden something outright with no reason becomes a motivation all on its own. I knew grandma was sickly - she always had been - and it was quite a regular occurrence for one of my parents or older siblings to toddle off with a basket of goodies to bring her some comfort.

Very regular. Monthly, in fact, though I'd never really noticed that. Partly because I was a bit unobservant, and partly because it wasn't like that was the only time someone went to visit her.

So one day I woke up early, so early that it was actually still nighttime, and couldn't sleep. I was feeling rebellious - I was a teenager, alright? - but in that I want to prove I'm responsible way, rather than shout and tear things up way. And getting a sneaky cookie from the kitchen to tide me over until breakfast, a good few hours away yet, I saw the basket all ready for mother's trip to grandma's later that day.

Well, I decided to save mum the walk.

It was a pleasant night, and I wasn't scared of anything in the local woods. I should have been, but I wasn't. And I loved grandma, but never really got to see her without the rest of the family around, and it struck me that if I went along myself, I'd kill several birds with one stone. I'd be helping out, and being all grown up, which was sure to impress my parents.

I'd also be away from home all morning, which would make a change. And I'd get grandma to myself for a while.

So off I went, full of good intentions and with laughable naivete. I did think to leave a note, and I even threw on my thickest cloak, a beautiful red woollen thing that had been a birthday gift from grandma herself.

It did occur to me when I was about twenty minutes into the woods that I maybe should have waited until dawn, at least, but I shook the thought off. My cloak was warm, and there was a full moon in the clear skies. Besides, it was an easy enough path.

Even so, I jumped when an owl swooped silently through my line of sight, heart pounding. I didn't believe in ghosts, but for a moment, I'd been spooked. I had to force myself to keep going, reminding myself shakily that of course there were going to be night time creatures about. A wolf howled, somewhere in the distance, and despite telling myself that I wasn't scared at all, I picked up the pace a little.

Foolishly, it wasn't until I arrived at the clearing grandma lived in and saw that there were no candles burning that it occurred to me that she wouldn't be awake. Of course. Because she wouldn't be expecting her middle grandkid to turn up in the early hours of the morning to say hi.

I realised at this point that perhaps I hadn't been so grown up and helpful as all that, but it was too late. I was there, and I sure wasn't going to turn tail and walk home again - by the time I made it back, it would be a reasonable time to set out, not to mention it would be plain embarrassing having to explain to my parents, and my siblings would mock me for the rest of time.

I also wasn't going to sit around until a sensible time, because even with a cloak it was cold out and I'd freeze. A wolf howled again, sounding worryingly closer than before, and that cemented the deal. I was going inside, now. The front door was so warped that poor grandma would think I was breaking in if I tried to open it quietly, so I went round the corner of the cottage, already loosening my cloak ready to hang it up once I was in her cozy kitchen.

The wolf was sniffing around the back door.

Its head snapped up as I walked into view, and my heart froze as I stopped dead.

Okay, not literally, but you know what I mean.

It wasn't a normal wolf, too large, it's fur a russet streaked with silver, and it's eyes…oh gods, its eyes were human. That freaked me out the most. Regular wolf? Scary, but…normal. Deadly, sure, but at least it was…just an animal. This?

This was some kind of monster.

I didn't run. Perhaps that was another foolish decision, but I figured there was no point. A wolf could outrun me. This thing wouldn't even have to break into a trot to cross the clearing to me in record time.

The basket dropped from fingers numb with fear, and the silent tension snapped. The wolf leapt, and I stumbled back, fumbling mindlessly with my cloak. Somehow I got the material between me and the wolf, as though that would stop those teeth, screaming my lungs out. "GRANDMA!"

Quite what I thought my dear old granny was going to do, I've never been certain, but hey. It's not the kind of situation that lends itself to reasoned responses.

What actually happened was that I went down with a wolf landing on me, and landed with my grandma lying on my stomach. She blinked short-sightedly at me, then down at the cloak. "Oh, bother. Look, I've put some terrible rips in it."

So…yeah. That's how I found out my grandma has this unfortunate tendency of turning into a wolf every month when the full moon rises…and also that if you go into the woods with a werewolf's clothes and call to them, they'll turn back into a human.

My parents did at least let me go to grandma's alone after that -

- but only once I'd been grounded for a month.

[gracewatsonauthor]

Becoming Will

‘Becoming Will’ is a prequel short story to The Story of Lizzy and Darcy, a modern-day queer re-telling of Pride and Prejudice. It tells the story of Will when he first came to live with Darcy, recovering from the lowest point in his life.

The Adventures of William Fitts is out now.

He looked in the mirror, studying his reflection.

It was odd, he mused, looking at his face and thinking ‘him’. Knowing that he could do that and he wasn’t hiding anything, he wasn’t lying to anyone. It had been three months since he’d last taken the time to look at his reflection, to really study it, and in some ways he could see all of the things that had changed, but in others… it was far too similar to how it had been before.

He was a lot thinner, for starters; skin and bones, really. And tired; he looked very tired. Even though the last few nights had been the first in a real bed since he’d left his parents’, he hadn’t been able to sleep. He saw shadows in every corner, and when he closed his eyes the darkness had swooped in. He’d ended up sitting there, curled up with the light on, willing himself to feel anything but fear.

It somehow didn’t feel real. It didn’t feel true that Darcy had spent weeks hunting for him, spent every spare minute searching when she should have been at home looking after her brother, when she had more important things to do. It felt out of place that she had carefully found some of Jordan’s spare clothes instead of her own, cut his hair short for him and presented him with a binder she’d ordered online.

There was a quiet knock at the door.

“Come in,” he said.

The door opened.

“Hi.”

It was Darcy. She was trying her best at a smile, but it didn’t really work; it’s not like she was particularly good at it before… well, before.

“Hi,” he replied, not turning to face her, staying with his eyes fixated on his own reflection.

“Dinner’s ready, I can bring some up if you want?”

“No. I’ll come down.”

She was being careful, so god-damn careful, and he just wished that something would happen. She’d cried when she found him – held him close and sobbed into his shoulder. He wished he’d felt relieved, but he’d felt nothing.

He’d thought that by now, he’d feel different. That somehow the world would look a little bit better once he had somewhere to go.

He’d been wrong.

There were three places set at the dinner table, although the chances of them all being occupied were minimal. He slid into the one nearest the door, trying to make himself as small as possible. He didn’t fit in here, he didn’t belong here.

Darcy came through with a steaming dish, placing it in the centre of the table.

“I made cottage pie, how you like it,” she said. “Or at least, I tried to. I couldn’t, um, I couldn’t do it quite like Mum does.”

There was a pregnant silence as they both registered the use of the present tense, neither of them correcting it.

“Thank you,” he said eventually, jerking his head slightly in lieu of making eye contact.

Jordan bound through as Darcy was serving up, grabbing his plate.

“I’m going to eat in my room. Hey, Darcy, could I have some money? The guys are talking of going away for the weekend, just to the beach.”

Darcy looked at Jordan, her eyes wide and hopeful. “I don’t think there should be any problem with that, we’ll just go over the details later, okay? How was, um, how was the last day of school?”

“What do you care?”

And Jordan was gone.

Darcy sank into her chair slowly, her face giving nothing away.

There was silence, once more, between the two of them.

“This is delicious,” he said. They both knew he was lying.

“Thank you.”

Silence.

“How are you doing? How are you… holding up?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

No more words were exchanged for the rest of the meal.

There was shouting that evening.

There had been shouting most evenings since he’d come here, and probably had been for weeks before that.

He sat there, curled up in the enormous bed, not caring that he could hear every word of their conversation. He didn’t have the energy to ignore it, or listen in, or pretend to do something else.

He didn’t have the energy to sleep.

“What is your problem?! I just want to go away for a few days with my mates, why is that such a big deal all of a sudden?”

The yelling reached every corner of the flat.

“Jordan, I don’t have a problem with you wanting to go away with your friends, I just think we should talk about how much these trips are costing! Besides, you’ve only just turned sixteen, you’re not old enough to go swanning off on your own.”

“Oh, so you don’t have money for me to see my friends but you have money for your charity cases? How is that fair?”

“He’s not a charity case, he’s my friend, and I’m willing to pay for this trip but I just want to know that you’ll be safe and responsible.”

“What the hell Darcy, you’ve never worried about that before!”

“Well, maybe I should have.”

“You’re not Mum and Dad, so stop pretending! Stop pretending to suddenly give a shit about what I do!”

The argument reached this point every night, no matter where it started out. It was all downhill from here, and he knew it wasn’t going to be pretty.

“I do care about you Jordan, I really do and I’m trying, cut me some slack here-”

“Oh, boo hoo, perfect Darcy can’t do everything perfectly! But it’s all okay, isn’t it, because you rescued him, you found him, you saved him, and he doesn’t even have a bloody name but apparently we’re not allowed to say-”

“JORDAN! Don’t you dare finished that sentence!”

“When will you get it into your head, you are not my parent!”

“Please, I just want to help. Tell me what I can do to help.”

“I want to go away with my friends.”

There was quiet, and he knew that Darcy was agreeing, giving in, because the same happened every night.

Twenty-four hours later and they were fighting again, only this time he was there to see it. He sat there, silently, not daring to make his presence known.

“It’s not like I have school tomorrow, why can’t I go out? I just want to spend time with my mates, why are you making it so difficult?!”

“Because you’re sixteen and you have a curfew which you’ve already broken this week. You can go out next week but for now you’re grounded.”

“I don’t believe this. Grounded? Like I’m a child? Darcy, you’re six years older than me, you can’t ground me.”

“I can and I have, deal with it.”

“You are just unbelievable!!! Prancing around like you’re so much better than the rest of us, but why don’t you just PISS OFF, DARCY!”

“Don’t you dare-”

He hadn’t realised that the shouting had stopped, or that he’d curled up into a ball with his hands over his ears, until felt gentle fingers prying his arms back down.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay now, you’re safe. It’s okay, there’s no more shouting, you’re safe here.”

He vaguely registered a heavy sigh followed by a “I’m going to my room. Don’t bother coming to talk to me,” as Jordan stalked out.

Darcy ignored Jordan, and focussed instead on him. “Are you… are you okay? I know that’s a stupid question.”

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

She continued. “I’m sorry about all this, I really am. I’ll do anything and everything that I can to make things better for you, okay? I promise.”

He nodded again. “You’ve already done so much,” he said quietly. “More than enough. Thank you, Darcy. I mean it.”

She sighed, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m your friend. It’s what we do.” She cleared her throat. “I was thinking, do you… do you want to go back to the doctor’s? Like you were before? It might help to talk to someone about everything that happened, and maybe if you wanted to you could start looking at the medical side of things? No pressure, of course; you have to do whatever’s right for you. But I’ll be here for you every step of the way.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Jordan needs you more right now, you need each other. Focus on him right now, he’s more important.”

Darcy sighed, leaning back against the sofa. “I don’t know what to do with Jordan right now. He’s my brother, and we’ve never been that close but we’ve always at least got on. Now, though… now I don’t know what to think, what to feel. I’m not sure I know how to feel. I’m just drifting, and I feel like I’m trying my best but that at the same time I’m barely trying at all.”

“You’ll figure it out,” he said, rubbing her arm in what he hoped was a comforting motion. “I know you will. You’re Darcy Williams, you can get through anything the world throws at you. I know you can.”

She smiled weakly. “So can you, Mr Fitts. So can you.”

And for the first time since coming out to his parents, he truly smiled.

“I was so cold and so scared. Every night, I curled up, afraid to sleep in case… in case something happened. Some nights there were some guys who would, um, they’d say things. Things that made me want to, want to, want to hurt myself. Sometimes I did. Some nights I found somewhere to stay, but most of the time…

“I told myself that, that if, that if things got worse, if I was there for a long time, that I’d end it. And I… I was going to. I had it all planned out. But she came, Darcy came to find me, she’d never stopped searching and she saved me. I owe her my life, literally. But I… I wish I could feel more grateful. I wish I could just get on with living my life. But I… I still don’t feel like I have a home. I’m still cold, I’m still afraid to sleep. And I just want it to stop.”

Silence.

“She sounds like a good friend.”

“She is. She’s the best friend anyone could hope for, but she doesn’t see that and sometimes I just want to shake her and make her see what she does for me, how much she does for everyone in her life. How much she sacrifices.”

“Maybe you should tell her that? It might be good for both of you.”

“…Yes. I think you’re right.”

Silence.

“I think it might be a good idea if she joined us for a few minutes next week. It would help her know how to help you best. How does that sound?”

“That would be okay, I guess.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Think about it.”

Arguments continued, every night, but he started to sleep a little better. He made sure to spend at least a few minutes each day talking to Jordan away from Darcy, doing everything he could to integrate himself into this little, massively dysfunctional household. Sometimes he wanted to shake some sense into the both of them, make them see that all they had now was each other and they couldn’t throw that away. But the thought of speaking up like that made him feel ill.

He had some clothes of his own now. Darcy helped him pick them out; it was odd, shopping in the men’s section. He was used to standing in the women’s section, trying not to let his mother see him glancing over at the suits and the baggy jeans and the trainers.

He spent a long time each day looking in the mirror, analysing what he saw. He’d run his hand over his chin, imagining what it would feel like to have stubble there, standing sideways on to check that the binder was doing its work.

Sometimes things were bad. Putting on weight again had brought back the curves that he’d been so desperate to lose; the minute he noticed it, he didn’t realise until Darcy came running in that he’d smashed the mirror and was curled up on the floor, hand bleeding. She’d held him, talked to him, hushed him until he calmed down enough to let her treat his hand.

“Have you thought any more about a name? I understand that you’re uncomfortable with the name that you were given at birth, but having a name might help give you a sense of identity.”

“I… I’ve had some thoughts, but I… I know it’s stupid, but I don’t feel like I deserve it.”

“You don’t deserve a name?”

Shrug. “Something like that. It’s, um, it’s tradition in our family to name the firstborn son after his grandfather. I… sometimes I think that it might be nice to do that, you know? But then I remember that I’m not a part of that family anymore. And that hurts, so I stop thinking about it.”

“Do you think about your parents often?”

“Every day. All the time. I saw my dad, in the supermarket. I don’t think he saw me, and I was sort of glad because I don’t know what I would have done. I was… I was so scared, seeing him there, and remembering what happened the last time I spoke to him, when I… when I left. I mean, when they, um, when they t-told me to leave. But I – I wanted to, to go up to him and say that I’m sorry and that it was all wrong and could I p-please go home, because I just miss them both so damn much and I feel like I should hate them but I just can’t, they’re my parents. More than anything, I just… I just wanted him to look at me and see his son. Not a daughter that went wrong, a son. I mean, is that really too much to ask? I mean, the irony is, he always went on about how much he wanted a son, and then… well, yeah.”

“Did you come out to your grandfather? Does he know?”

A shake of the head. “No. He, he passed away a few years ago. I like to think that he would have been okay with it, you know? I mean, we were always quite close. But then, this sort of thing never came up. So I don’t really know. I guess I’m probably just kidding myself, but it’s a nice thought. But taking his name, it feels… it feels like a huge assumption. And I’m not sure that I’m ready to face up to the thought that maybe he wouldn’t have been okay with it.”

“What was his name?”

“William.”

Everything changed that night.

He was used to opening the door to Darcy and Jordan’s apartment and hearing shouting, yelling, and slamming doors, so it was unnerving when, that evening, he heard nothing through the front door. Not even Jordan playing music obnoxiously loud on purpose, or the sound of Darcy attempting to cook a meal.

He pushed the door open slowly, nervously, to see both Darcy and Jordan sat on the sofa, Darcy with her arm round her brother. A few steps into the apartment and he could hear that Jordan was quietly crying, apologising, while Darcy comforted him, whispering under her breath that it would all be okay, that she was sorry, that she would fix it, that she was there for him.

He didn’t know if they noticed him, but he didn’t mind. He slipped past them quietly, into his room, and sat in bed looking at baby names on Darcy’s old laptop. There was something very strange but sort of nice about picking out his own name; for once he was finally feeling in control of things, just a little bit. He must have looked at hundreds of names, from the usual ones like John and Jack to the weird and wacky ones that lacked vowels and were filled with Xs and Zs, but nothing seemed right. He couldn’t help but feel that he’d know his name when he saw it, but it was frustrating when nothing just clicked.

After a couple of hours, there was a knock at the door.

“Come in.”

Darcy slipped into the room, softly pushing the door shut behind her.

“Hi,” she whispered, perching on the side of his bed. “Jordan’s just gone to try and get some sleep, it’s been a… long day.” She rubbed at her red-rimmed eyes. “Do you… do you remember George Wickham? I think you might have met him once or twice at my birthdays or something.”

He nodded. “Yeah, vaguely. Friendly guy, looks like he stepped off the runway?”

“That’s him. He…” she took a deep, shuddering breath. “Jordan’s been spending all his time with him. All that time that I thought he was going to spend with his friends, and he was hanging out with George. All that money was going straight into George’s pocket, on gambling and drinks and God knows what else. I just…” She put her head in her hands as tears started to roll down her cheeks. “How did I not see this?! How did I let things get this bad, how did I let this slip by me? I’ve been so stupid, I’ve been ignoring my own brother. This is all my fault.”

He quickly put the laptop to one side, leaning forwards to wrap Darcy in a hug. “Darcy, this isn’t your fault. You two have both had a really tough time of it in the last few months and what matters now is that together you fix this. And I know that you can, because I know you. You can do anything you set your mind to. You’re my best friend, Darcy, and if anyone can fix this it’s you.”

“I couldn’t do this without you, either,” she said, her voice stifled from the tears. “I admire you, so much. The things you’ve been through, that you’ve fought against… Your strength and your will are inspiring. Honestly, they are.”

He didn’t realise that he’d frozen until Darcy sat up straight, looking into his eyes, concerned.

“Hey, are… are you okay?”

He nodded, humming. “Yeah, yeah, I was just… thinking about what you said.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What… exactly?”

He smiled. “Nothing.”

He didn’t say anything that night; he wanted to sleep on it, to try it out in his head for a while before committing to anything, but by breakfast the next morning he couldn’t hold it in much longer.

“You’re in a good mood,” Darcy said, almost suspiciously, as he came into the kitchen.

He shrugged, unable to wipe the grin off his face. “I just have a great feeling about today. In fact, I’m feeling better than I have in months. And that’s because-”

He was interrupted as the doorbell rang.

“Hold that thought,” Darcy said, going to answer the door. He began to make the tea, keeping one ear out for what was going on.

“George,” he heard Darcy say coolly as she answered the door. “I see you got my message.”

“Yeah,” he heard the visitor’s voice drift through the flat. “What’s going on, everything okay?”

He tiptoed through to the sitting room, peering around the corner to see what was going on.

“Jordan told me everything.”

He saw George’s face fall as soon as Darcy spoke, dropping his façade immediately. George squirmed, trying to talk his way out of it.

“What, that we’ve been hanging out? You, er, you didn’t know that? You know what it’s like, we’re basically family, and it’s like he’s my brother, I’m just watching out for him.”

“Doesn’t sound like you’ve been doing much ‘watching out’, as you put it. Sounds more like you’ve been dragging him into bad situations and taking money off him, taking advantage of him!”

“I wouldn’t call it taking advantage, he just helps me out occasionally like friends do, you know?”

He stepped out from his hiding place, surprising them all when he piped up, “Friends don’t do that, George.”

George looked at him disbelievingly, looking at him with scorn. “Oh, really? And how much do you know about friends, huh? I know all about you and your little sob story, you’re Jordan’s favourite thing to moan about. How’s not being homeless going?”

“George-” Darcy said warningly, but he cut her off.

“I know that friends are there for you when you need them the most, and that they do everything they can to build you up, not tear you down.”

He flinched as George strode towards him but kept his ground, looking George straight in the eye and ignoring how small he suddenly felt.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” George growled, his voice dangerously low.

He drew himself up, trying with all his might to appear more confident than he felt.

“It means that you need to get out and leave my friends alone. You’ve done enough damage here; now go and enjoy your sorry little life somewhere else.”

He heard Darcy gasp and it took him a second to realise that George had drawn back his fist, his face fierce with anger. He shut his eyes, ready for the blow, but it never came; George Wickham was frozen where he stood, trembling with restraint.

He opened his eyes as slowly as he dared, not daring to look at Darcy’s terrified face.

George spit on the ground in front of him, before growling, “You’re lucky I don’t hit girls.”

He felt like the breath had been knocked out of him. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t see anything, he couldn’t hear anything. He shrank, smaller and smaller, the room spinning around him, the cold and wet of an outdoor night seeping into his bones. He heard their voices, all their voices, telling her that she was wrong, that she was disgusting, that she should get out, that they never wanted to see her again, that she deserved to die. He hit his head over and over again, desperate to get the voices out, to tell them to leave, but that just made them louder and louder, and she wanted them out out out they needed to be gone. He needed them gone. He needed her gone.

“Shut up shut up shut up shup up shut up shut UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!”

And they shut up.

He opened his eyes. He was on the floor, George was gone, Darcy was there, Jordan was there. Neither of them said anything, concerned and worried but silent.

He took deep breaths, filled with a fire that he’d forgotten about, that he didn’t know he had.

He spoke.

“My name is William Fitts. I am Will. And I am me. I know who me is now. And that’s my name. Will.”

[agentdagonet]

Echoes, Ch. 7

can’t believe I forgot to put the last 2 chapters of Echoes up here. Seeing as I’m about to upload chapter 9, I’ll put 7 and 8 up beforehand. Thanks for sticking around, guys!

Find it here on AO3

Find it here on tumblr:  1 2 3 4 5 6

Fic Summary: Feet dangling off the edge of the bed, hands still resting on the earpieces of his glasses, Eggsy opened his eyes.

         And promptly shut them again, screwing them shut like a child who had the distinct misfortune of biting into a raw lemon. Breathing harshly in his nose and out his mouth, trying to stave off whatever delusional panic had befallen him, Eggsy reopened his eyes.

‘Harry?’

Or: The Hologram Story Nobody Asked For

         Eggsy had spent the weeks following the Hologram Incident trying to go back to the way things had been before it. Sure there were things missing in the house now, a few knick-knacks and paintings- the most notable loss was that picture of a demon-looking thing by the kitchen which Eggsy was only too happy to part with. Mr. Pickle was one thing, he had a sentimental excuse, but the demon-thing (he didn't even want to give it a name. When you name something, you want to keep it- no way Eggsy was going down that slope) had put Eggsy off from eating more than once after tough missions.              

         He didn't wear the glasses inside, changed from his suits as soon as he was able, locked everything back up tightly in the wall, and moved on. It's what Harry would have wanted.              

         Except he couldn't put Holo-Harry from his mind. He'd wanted Eggsy to have something of him than those few periods they'd had together that hadn't involved Eggsy reading to an unresponsive body. What had he meant by that? What was hiding in those hard drives that Harry had wanted him to have? As curious as he was, he knew that now was not the time. He was still mourning him, he was still reeling from the loss of him, and to go and peruse his private files... Eggsy was just about positive it would break him, to learn more about Harry than he had already known. If this was how shattered he was from losing a near-stranger how much more painful would it be to have lost a friend?      

         It's a unique situation, to be able to learn more about someone you already felt connected to after they had died, but it wasn't one Eggsy thought he could get through. Not yet.              

         So he snatched up every mission he had the opportunity to bid for. He kept himself busy, out of the house, away from his mum and Daisy; he kept himself from thinking too deeply about anything other than completing the mission at hand and getting out alive. Of course, these things weren't meant to last, and soon enough Eggsy had broken his left arm and was forced out of the field for just over a month barring emergencies.

         'You can't be serious- the fuck am I supposed to do here for a month?!'                        'You could always catch up on your reports- last I heard Merlin was ready to break a limb himself if it would get you to write them up.' The words were muffled in the way only holding a pen cap between your teeth can make them, but they needn't be perfectly clear for Eggsy to hear the smile in her voice. Roxy had a sharpie in one hand, Eggsy's arm in the other, held at such an angle that he had no idea what she was doing with the former of the two.         

         'That's exactly what I'm gonna do, yeah? Out of commission so I'm gonna write about all those times I actually did the job without fucking up. Cheerful.' It's bitter, but he chuckles anyway. In his haste to get in and out of his (Harry's) house he hadn't bothered to sit down and type up his reports. 'Why do they need me to write 'em down anyway? They was there and there's recordin's and shit why torture us with paperwork?'              

         'Just because we're not affiliated with any government doesn't mean that we're without governing, Eggsy.' She'd spit the cap out, now, her tongue sticking out slightly in concentration, 'But I also think they're a bit mad you've been doing so much. There's policies about working too much, you know, and if it weren't for the world still being a relative wreck from V-Day you'd have passed them long ago.'              

         'I don't see you getting corrected for bein' out on assignment so much.' This was the first time they'd had more than an hour together since the Hologram Incident- not that Roxy knew anything about that. He didn't know how to put it into words- and he highly doubted Merlin was off telling Roxy about all his personal time outside of HQ. Still, the point remained: Roxy had been just as busy as Eggsy had been, she wasn't one to talk.              

         'That's probably because I do what they ask the first time, Eggsy.' She nods to herself, taking a picture on her phone before capping the sharpie. 'Anyway, I'm off for the next two days- you up for a night in tomorrow? I'll bring pizza, you grab beer, we'll Netflix a shitty film?'              

         'Yeah, alright.'

-----

         'Hey, mum.' Eggsy kissed her on the cheek before swooping down to do the same to his sister; if he was gonna be grounded for the next month he was going to use the time to catch up with his family. No better use for it.

         'Surprised to see you 'round, sweetheart- it's been a while.' She continued to stir the pot, but nods him towards the place at the table he sets up every time. It was autopilot, and luckily he was over often enough for dinner to warrant the muscle memory, though he often arrived more injured than the last time she'd seen him.              

         'Yeah, sorry 'bout that- they had me travelling from posh place to posh place picking up fabric- got this blue silk in that would look lovely on you, mum.'

         'Oh none of that tripe here, love. Forge' about work and enjoy a nice dinner with your family. Just cos you've got your own place and a fancy job doesn't mean you can' come back home and relax, babe.'

         Dinner itself was uneventful, on the whole; Eggsy made sure Daisy ate all her food and didn't feed it all to her imaginary dragon, Spots. Cute as the notion was, the mess was not fun to clean up, so Eggsy was sure to act out leaving some food for Spots in the living room before they actually began eating. The evening settled down when Daisy tuckered out, Eggsy brought her to bed and read her a story about knights and dragons (she had an unnatural obsession with dragons for her age), and now the two adults were sat on the couch with mugs of hot chocolate.              

         There was something to be said about the little things.              

         'Had someone come 'round about your dad, called himself Merlin.' Eggsy didn't want to have this conversation now. Actually, he wasn't certain that he wanted to have this conversation ever but this was his mum and there was no way he was getting out of this.              

         'Oh?'              

         'Don't play dumb, Eggsy; there's only so many people in the world who would willingly introduce themselves as Merlin- I know he's your boss.’

         ‘Yeah, well, forgive me if this is all new territory- I never really expected you to meet. Let alone in those kind of circumstances.’

         ‘So you knew he was coming, then? Pretty out of nowhere.’

         'You can’t plan finding someone’s Will when you didn’t think one existed, mum. And I wasn’ gonna drag up the past- not after you just getting through everything else.’

         ‘You knew what happened to your dad and you didn’t tell me?’

         ‘Yeah; I mean it’s not like I could just pop up and say “hey, mum, I know how dad died!” cos you’d have asked how I found out and it woulda been a mess. Never you mind that Dean literally tried to kill me the day I found out and only stopped cos of that voice saying he was gonna tell the police. Never felt like an okay time to tell you, after that.’ Eggsy shrugged; he couldn't meet her eye, not with that between them.

         ��I- well... you still shoulda told me.’

         ‘Why, to get you all depressed all over again right as you were getting through this? I remember what you were like right after dad died. I wasn’t gonna subject Daisy to that.’

         ‘I did my best, Eggsy!’

         ‘You let dads death eat you up inside so deeply that you forgot my birthday and I had to go and make myself somethin’ sweet cos I wanted my birthday to be like before. Twice.’ Michelle had no response to that, looked down at her lap and wrung her hands trying to think of a way to show Eggsy she had been trying. ‘I know it was hard, mum, but it was like you forgo’ all about how your decisions were affecting me after that. I don’t blame you now, but it weren’t fun either and I wasn’t gonna let Daisy go through something like that if I could help it. So no, I wasn’t gonna tell you.’

         ‘Well I know now. And I haven’t ended up like that.’ She’s justifying the past and defending the present all in one go. Or trying to, at least.

         ‘And I don’t think I’ve been more grateful to the universe in all my life.’

         ‘... So he also mentioned his friend.’ It's said casually, overly casually, and Eggsy was immediately on alert. This wasn't gonna end well.

         ‘The one who died?’ Maybe if he acts disinterested she'll let it go.

         ‘Yeah; said his name, too’ Oh no. ‘Said his name was Harry an’ doesn’t that sound familiar.’

         ‘Mum, do you really want to talk about this now?'

         'Yeah, I do- why're you so banged up about his friend's death that you're still needing nights with Roxy? I love her, don' get me wrong, but it feels like every time you both are over she ends up holdin' you while you cry.' She may not have been there for him before but she sure as hell was going to be there now. If it wasn't already too late.              

         'Yeah, well I don't want to talk about this.' C'mon Michelle, you can do this.              

         'Tha's just too bad, Eggsy, cos I got the feeling you need to talk abou' it. I'm not letting this slide, love, it's been over a year-'              

         'Yeah well it certainly took you longer than tha' to pull yourself together after dad so sorry if I'm not over his death yet.'              

         'I-' She looked contrite, one hand extended as if to offer comfort, but Eggsy didn't want anyone touching him right then. He's never good about tactile comfort in times of stress. Dean left a pretty deep scar over the whole touching thing.              

         'I'm heading out, mum. I'll see you next week, maybe.' She'd pushed him too far, too soon.

         Michelle covered her mouth with one hand, stifling a sob as the door clicked shut behind him.