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whiskey-tango-matcha · 1 year

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Thanks (m, cold)

Hi guys, thank you again for voting on which scenario you wanted to see for this fic! It's a bit of a slow burn, and idk how I feel about the ending, but Elijah is staunchly miserable by the end so hopefully that makes y'all happy 😅 let me know if you like it 🫶

Ps I've been writing this for literally the past 12 hours so I cannot look at it anymore, I'll read it over and edit errors in the morning but I need to get it out before it drives me insane lmao. 5.5k words under the cut :)

CW: male snz, colds, coughing, fever, contagion

There was nothing quite as depressing, Elijah decided, as the days leading up to Thanksgiving dinner service in a restaurant. Well, unless you were Greyson.

“Goooood morning, boss! Two days til the Big Day; are you pumped?”

Elijah turned his chair slowly towards the door, where the chef stood grinning unironically. He thought, not for the first time, that Greyson was likely some sort of dog in a past life – a golden retriever, or possibly a lab. One of those ‘no thoughts, just vibes’ dogs.

“Am I pumped?” Elijah asked, glaring at Greyson. “For a day that should be spent drinking shitty beer and eating my weight in carbs spent instead putting on a fake smile for people who don’t even think of us as human? For people who go out to eat literally once a year, and make sure they do it on a holiday so they can feel powerful by forcing a restaurant to serve them, then complain about the price and stiff my servers? Am I pumped to barely break even, even though the restaurant will be packed from ten am until close, because those same people staunchly refuse to pay more than eighty bucks a head to stuff themselves silly? Am I pumped to listen to my staff complain all day, despite the fact that when each of them was hired, they were told in no uncertain terms that they would be working holidays?” Elijah clicked his pen closed loudly, stood to let Greyson through, and sat with him in tandem, his face set in anger the whole time. “No, Grey. I am not, in fact, pumped.”

Greyson broke their eye contact to wake his computer, the lecture obviously unexpected. “Clearly I should’ve read the room before opening my mouth,” he said, glancing back over at his boss briefly. “My bad, boss.”

Elijah, embarrassed that he’d let himself sink into such a state about something as stupid as a holiday service, pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Fuck. Sorry, Grey. You just caught me at a bad moment. I had two servers call out for today, I’m fuckin’ sweating because we really need everyone here for Thursday and neither of them are sure they’ll be good to come back in two days.”

“Hmm,” Greyson hummed, his eyebrows threading together. “That’s weird. I had Victor and Elise call out on my way in.”

Elijah felt his heart thump in his temple. “Did they say why?”

“I didn’t ask,” Greyson said, turning his chair to face his boss. “But I guess I should’ve. Did the servers say why they couldn’t come in?”

“Some sort of fever-cold thing, is what Jason said he had. Ashley just said she felt like shit.” Elijah pressed his fingers into his eye and sighed. “I need a cigarette. Care to join?”

Greyson, never one to turn down nicotine in any form, stood from his chair. “Thought you’d never ask,” he said.

The two of them walked through the empty kitchen in silence, Elijah entirely too wrapped in his own thoughts to continue their conversation. There was an ongoing joke, a trope, at this point, about holidays in the restaurant; everyone was always sick for them. Last Easter, the servers all had bronchitis, and a couple of Valentine’s days ago, Greyson had so many cooks call out with the stomach flu that they’d had to hire last-minute temps to fill in on the line. Despite doing nearly 300 covers, they barely made enough to cover the immense labor that seven temps on a holiday cost.

“Lij,” Greyson said as the two of them stepped out the back door and sat on the milk crates littering the loading dock, “it’s not going to be like Valentine’s. I can see your fuckin’ gears turning.” The chef pulled a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, handed his boss one, and lit them both up. “Relax.”

Silence, once again, fell upon them as they smoked and watched fat snowflakes disintegrate on the asphalt. Elijah hoped that Greyson was right, that everything would be fine and he was overreacting – but he knew better than to hope. More likely than not, it was going to be what it always was on holidays: a shit show.

Matt and Mark, hand-in-hand until they spotted their bosses by the door, turned the corner and waved to their counterparts in tandem like well-trained circus animals. Elijah couldn’t help but smile as their fingers unwove from one another.

“Morning,” Elijah called, stubbing out his cigarette. Greyson did the same, and the two of them stood to let the younger men into the building.

“Aren’t you freezing?” Mark asked rubbing his hands together as he pushed the door open. Elijah shrugged as he held the door open for the other two and walked in behind them.

“My rage keeps me warm,” he said, prompting a laugh from Greyson and an eye roll from the younger men. “How’re you guys?”

Mark shot a look at Matt as they all walked towards the office at the front of the kitchen. “I’m well,” he said, pointedly. Elijah nearly stopped in his tracks when he glimpsed Matt glaring at his boyfriend.

“Matt…?” Greyson asked, an attempt at giving his sous chef a get-out-of-jail-free card. There was silence as the three of them turned, expectantly, towards Matt.

“I’mb good,” the sous said, his voice cracking on the second syllable. Elijah audibly groaned, Mark winced, and Greyson bit his cheek to keep from laughing at the absurdity.

“Well, you certainly sound great,” Greyson said, palming Matt’s shoulder aggressively. “Would you like to go home and sleep that off?”

“Yes, he -”

“Ndo,” Matt said, cutting Mark off and shooting him a look. “I wandt to help prep.I’mb – hh! hh’NGTSH-uh!” Matt turned and pulled his coat up over the bottom half of his face to sneeze, then quickly gathered himself and stood up straight. “I’mb fine,” he said, convincing no one.

Elijah closed his eyes briefly and sighed through his nose; fortunately or unfortunately, he knew exactly why Matt hadn’t called off.

The week prior, Elijah and Greyson had dolled out raises and bonuses for the staff; this year was Matt’s fifth as sous chef. Greyson had basically written a dissertation of why his sous chef should be given a new title – Executive Sous – along with a significant raise and bonus. It hadn’t taken much convincing; Elijah knew exactly how hard Matt worked, and staying at the same restaurant as a sous chef for five years was nearly unheard of in this city, especially for someone as young as Matt. He and Greyson had agreed that Matt’s loyalty to the restaurant deserved to be compensated, and had surprised him before his day off with the new title and pay.

Matt had been surprised – shocked was probably a better word for it, honestly – and had confided in Elijah after Greyson had dipped early to meet up with a date that he felt like he didn’t deserve the raise.

“You do,” Elijah had said, laughing lightly. “We wouldn’t have given it to you if you didn’t deserve it.”

The younger man had shaken his head. “I just… I mean, Greyson is here way more than me. I get two days off mostly, and he doesn’t let me work longer than ten hours. And I love it here, you guys don’t need to, like, worry about me leaving if that’s what this is about.”

Elijah had given Matt a confused look. “Greyson should be here more than you, first of all he’s a partner, not just the chef, and secondly, he gets paid very well to be here eighty hours a week. That’s his choosing. You’re his employee – if you were here as much as he was and getting paid significantly less, that wouldn’t be fair. And we’re glad you love it here, but that’s not why we gave you the raise. We gave it to you because you’re a hard worker, and you deserve to be compensated for what you do.” Elijah had smiled at Matt, patted his knee, and finished with, “Don’t sell yourself short.”

Matt had just smiled back and nodded, but Elijah knew he hadn’t changed his mind about ‘being undeserving’. Elijah knew, via background checks that were performed by his off-site HR company, and via Mark being a blabbermouth the second he got a glass of wine in him, that Matt had been a bit of a troubled kid; he’d been bounced from one foster home to another as a kid, and then one juvenile detention hall to another as a teenager. Only when he’d dropped out of high school and gotten a job as a dishwasher at a Denny’s did he finally decide it was time to shape up. He’d worked his way into the diner’s kitchen, then a slightly nicer kitchen, and when he was 20, he’d shown up at the front door of Elliot’s in an ill-fitting suit with a speech about how he was ready to work somewhere that he could hone his passion, even if they couldn’t pay him a dime. Greyson had hired him on the spot, not even consulting Elijah, despite only having been the executive chef for a few months.

Elijah knew Matt felt that he owed Greyson, not the other way around, and this promotion and raise was the nail in that coffin of doubt. He knew there was no way Matt would go home, no matter how shitty he felt.

Greyson just shrugged at his sous chef’s denial of being sick. “If you want to stay, I’m not going to make you leave,” he said, walking into the office and changing from his sweatshirt into his chef’s coat. “Just don’t sneeze on the food.”

Matt rolled his eyes and stripped off his jacket to put his own chef’s coat on. “Yes, Chef,” he said, coughing into his elbow. Mark and Elijah exchanged sidelong looks.

“Are you feeling okay?” Elijah asked his junior manager. Mark smirked, hiked his laptop bag further onto his shoulder, and started towards the dining room – his makeshift office.

“Never better, boss,” he said, pushing through the swinging doors. “Never better.”

***

“So, is he coming in tomorrow?”

Greyson lolled his head to the side, hands still on his keyboard, and deadpanned Elijah. “The fuck do you think?”

Elijah pulled a hand down his face and nodded. “Yeah, okay, just wanted to check.”

While Matt had been relatively fine the first few hours of the shift, by the time the last guests had eaten, the sous had been so staunchly miserable that Greyson had marched his ass into the office, thrown his jacket over his shoulders, and pointed towards the back door. “Go. Home. Now.”

“Chef, I – HTSHH! Hh-! GTSH-uh!” Matt wrenched to the side, collapsing into a post-sneeze coughing fit that made the cooks flinch from five yards away.

“You’re not fine,” Greyson insisted. “You’re sick, and you’re going to get everyone else sick.”

Matt nodded, miserable, and hung his head. “Sorry, Chef,” he muttered, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his jacket.

“Go,” Greyson said. “And come back when you’re well.”

Mark had taken Matt home in an Uber, and the cooks and servers had been able to leave relatively early, which left Elijah, Greyson, and a bottle of whiskey between them on the desk to figure out how they were going to handle the rest of the week.

Greyson sighed and reached for the bottle as he pushed away from his computer screen. He took a long pull and handed the bottle to Elijah, who followed suit. “I just… I don’t understand why he’d come in that sick,” Greyson said, pulling his hair to the top of his head and securing it with a rubber band from their drawer of office supplies. Elijah had to pull the bottle away from his lips to laugh. “What?” Greyson asked.

“You, of all people, can’t understand why he came in sick?” Elijah asked, incredulous. “You?”

“What do you mean me?” Greyson asked, snatching the bottle back. “If anything, he learned it from watching you.”

“Oh, spare me, Greyson,” Elijah rolled his eyes. “For awhile there, you literally came in sick three weeks a month.”

Greyson scoffed. “At least I’ve never passed out on the kitchen floor.”

“Yes, you have.”

“No, I almost passed out. You actually fuckin’ swooned. Collapsed in a puddle. Full damsel in distress.” Greyson took another pull and placed the bottle back on the desk. “So don’t come for me unless I send for you.”

Elijah guffawed at this. “Who taught you that saying?” he asked. Greyson shrugged.

“I heard one of the servers using it. I like it.”

“The servers are twenty years old, you dinosaur. The last thing they want is Grandpa Greyson using their jargon.”

“Fuck off, if anyone here is a grandpa it’s…” Greyson stopped suddenly, held up a finger, let his eyes flutter shut, then let out a shaky breath. “Fuck, that’s annoying.” He rubbed his nose on the back of his hand, then raised an eyebrow at his boss, whose face had drawn into concern. “What?”

“What was that?” Elijah asked, glancing over at the bottle of whiskey they’d spent the past hour sharing.

“I just thought I was going to – oh,” Greyson’s eyes widened. “No, dude, relax, I’m totally fine. I feel great.”

“‘Buzzed’ and ‘great’ are two different things, Grey,” Elijah said. He reached up to feel Greyson’s forehead, prompting the chef to lean back in his chair.

“Great as in healthy,” he insisted, shooing Elijah’s hand away. “Seriously, I’d let you know if I – HRRTSHHH-ue!” He caught the sneeze in his elbow – barely – and choked back an irritated cough. From the crook of his arm, he heard Elijah swear.

“I’m going to end your fuckin’ life, I swear to God,” Elijah muttered, pushing the bottle further onto Greyson’s side of the desk. “You let me drink from the same bottle as you, you dick.”

“I’m fine, Elijah, Christ it was one sneee – hh! - hh…” Greyson tipped his head back in anticipation, then lowered and shook it when the feeling once again dissipated. “See? Totally fine.” He sniffled – convincing, Grey – and immediately changed course. “Plus, it’s alcohol. It’s an antiseptic.”

“It one million percent is not,” Elijah said, rubbing his temples in defeat. “Greyson, you cannot be sick. We cannot be sick. How the hell are we going to be able to run Thanksgiving?”

“Elijah,” Greyson said, “listen. I am fine. Everything is going to be just fi – ITSHH-ue!” Greyson pitched forward into his palm and cringed. Elijah, begrudgingly, slammed the box of tissues they kept on a side table in front of the chef.

“Bless you,” he said while Greyson cleaned himself up. “And, I mean this from the bottom of my heart: fuck. You.”

***

“Hhh-! Huh… hnnn.”

“Bless you.”

“Oh, screw you, Lij,” Greyson muttered for the millionth time that day. He grabbed what felt like his hundredth tissue and blew his nose – only for the feeling to reignite. “Huhhh! Hhh...hh… guhh.” Greyson rubbed his nose again and angrily spiked the tissue into the trash can beneath his prep station.

“Bless you,” Elijah said again, mocking.

“You kndow,” Greyson said, turning towards his boss, who was seated in the office, not looking Greyson’s way. “Karma is going to combe for you for being an asshole to mbe.”

At this, Elijah glanced towards Greyson. “Karma? No, karma is having a cold and not being able to sneeze because you let your friend drink out of the same bottle as you when you knew you were getting sick. That’s karma, and you got what was coming to you.”

“Fuuhhh! Huh! Hh...fuck,” Greyson grumbled, coughing into his shoulder.

“Karma is also giving your sous chef a lecture about being sick at work, only to be get sick and have to come into work because you’re technically the most well of all the sick cooks and chefs.”

“Are you finished?” Greyson asked, throwing his hands in the air. “I get it. And to be fair, I did ndot kndow I was getting sick.” The chef sucked in painfully through his nose and collapsed into coughs once again.

“Mmhmm,” Elijah mumbled. When it seemed like Greyson wasn’t going to be able to stop the coughing, he took pity and got up to make the chef tea.

“Here,” Elijah said, slamming a paper cup in front of Greyson. “Drink it. Sickie.”

Greyson, unable to come up with a proper comeback, just did as he was told. “How mbany on the books tonight?” he croaked. Elijah sighed, pulled up his phone, and slid it towards Greyson. “Fuck,” Greyson said when he saw the number.

“All the people in the city who aren’t coming in tomorrow decided tonight was the night, apparently,” Elijah said, taking his phone back and putting it in his pocket. “Are you going to be okay?” he asked, in earnest.

Greyson nodded. “It’s ndot too bad,” he said, taking another sip of tea. “Just wish I could fuckigg sndeeze.”

Elijah huffed out a laugh. “You’re sure you don’t want to call Matt in?”

“Definitely no – hh! Huh...hhhITSHHHZUE! Oh thank fuckigg God – HUHHESTCH-ue! Hh! Hnn...HuhhhETSCHH-ue! HTSSHH-ue!”

Elijah whistled, long and low, and pushed the box of tissues towards Greyson. “Wow,” he said. “Bless.”

Greyson rolled his eyes as he took a handful of tissues and cleaned himself up. “See?” he said once he’d thrown them away and washed his hands, “Good as new. HTSSHH-ue!”

Elijah chuckled. “Sure, Chef,” he said, moving towards the doors to the dining room. “Whatever you say.”

***

In his thirty-nine years on earth, Elijah had learned a lot about himself. He’d learned that he was a hothead, and he had to really think about the repercussions of what was going to come out of his mouth if he wanted to keep the person he was talking to in his life. He’d learned that he was incapable of whistling, juggling, or any other party trick – but he could pull out a fantastic rendition of Queen’s Somebody to Love during karaoke, and that was enough to make him seem like he was fun at parties. He’d learned that he loved to have his own space, and should he ever find a partner, he knew they’d have to have separate bedrooms. And he had learned exactly what it felt like when he was getting sick.

Like… really sick.

When Greyson said things like, “I didn’t know I was getting sick,” it truly did not register to Elijah. Maybe it was because Greyson’s illnesses always seemed to be some sort of mixed bag – starting differently every time, with symptoms that varied wildly – or maybe it was because he just didn’t tune in to how he was feeling. Greyson always said he basically tried to ignore his body until it forced him to pay attention; maybe that was something that Elijah needed to attempt. Because Elijah… Elijah knew exactly when and how badly he was getting sick every single time.

It had started that afternoon, mere hours after he’d given Greyson shit about exposing him to this illness, the way it always did – with the type of sore throat that made you feel weak in your knees. Elijah had swallowed, then immediately felt dizzy with the pain that surged in his throat. Oh, he thought, touching his neck. Oh, no.

He was, of course, a creature of habit and attempted all his usual ways to quell the pain – cups of tea hidden in paper sleeves, lozenges he hoped Greyson was too stuffed up to smell on his breath, handfuls of ibuprofen – to no avail. By the time dinner service came around he could hear the rasp in his voice and, despite the ibuprofen, could feel the ache in his joints that meant he’d already made it to stage two; fever.

This was how he knew he was going to be down badly. If he could ride the sore throat past the fever and straight into congestion, he might be able to get away with just a normal cold. But if that fever set in before any other symptoms, it was all over.

“Yo,” Greyson said, approaching his boss post pre-shift. “Cand we quickly talk about the semantics of tomborrow’s buffet before people get here?”

Elijah lifted his heavy head from his pre-shift notes and blinked in Greyson’s direction. “Okay,” he said, brilliantly. Greyson’s eyebrows knit together, concerned.

“You good?” he asked, rubbing his nose on the back of his hand. Elijah nodded slowly – surely, if Greyson was able to push through this illness with such ease, he was just being a baby about it. He swallowed through the knives in his throat and nodded.

“Just a headache,” he said. “What do you want to talk through?”

“Just wanted to see how mbany cooks you think I should have on the buffehh....ETSZHCHH-ue!” Greyson directed a massive sneeze into his elbow, and Elijah’s head about exploded with pain.

“Christ,” Elijah muttered, pressing his palm into his eye. Greyson muffled a cough into his sleeve and shook his head to clear it.

“Fuck, ‘scuse mbe,” he said, looking back at his boss. “Umb. Did I get you or something?”

Something like that, Elijah thought as he shook his head. “No,” he said. “You’re just loud, and my head hurts.” He pulled out his phone, looked at the cover spread for the next day, and said, “Three cooks on the buffet. One for omelets, one for prime rib carving, one for dessert bar.” He looked up at Greyson for his confirmation. “What?” he asked.

“You just… look like you’re in pain,” Greyson said, carefully. “Did you take -?”

“Yes, I took ibuprofen,” Elijah cut him off. “Go make sure your guys are ready for tonight. Take a decongestant so they can understand you. I’ll be back there in a minute.”

Greyson pursed his lips, but didn’t argue. “Yes, sir,” he said, and left Elijah to brood.

By some stroke of luck, the third inevitable stage of Elijah’s illness didn’t hit him until after they’d finished service. He was checking the lead server’s station so she could go home, when suddenly it felt like a thousand bees collected in his sinuses.

“Yeah, looks good Riley, thanks, see you in the mo – IGTSHH-uhh! HSTSH-ue! HhhhINTSZH-ue!” Elijah wrenched to the side, the sneezes so sudden he barely had time to cover his mouth.

“Yikes,” Riley said, taking a step away from her boss. “Bless you.”

“Thanks,” Elijah muttered, pinching his nose to quell the itch.

“You pick up whatever has everyone else out this week?” she asked, taking off her apron. Elijah shook his head.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “Have a good night.”

With all the servers gone, Elijah slunk back into the kitchen and sunk into his office chair, his head in his hands. He was not prepared to do a whole holiday service feeling like this. This was nightmarish, and he’d only felt sick for nine hours. Tomorrow? Tomorrow was going to be -

“Hey, bless you,” Elijah sat up and turned around at the accusation to see Greyson standing at the office door with his arms crossed. “Could’ve heard those from fuckin’ space.”

Elijah rolled his eyes, painfully. “Whatever,” he said, powering his computer up to finish the night’s paperwork. “You’re one to talk, I don’t think you’ve gone three seconds without -”

“HRRSHH-oo!” Greyson cut him off with a comically-timed sneeze directed into the collar of his shirt.

“-that,” Elijah finished.

Greyson grabbed a tissue and wiped his nose. “Yeah, but it’s been well-established that I have a cold. I was under the impression that you were still -”

“HTSHH! HRSHH! Huh-! HuhhESTZHH-ue!” Elijah once again collapsed in on himself, head both buzzing and pounding, the explosive sneezes grating the back of his throat.

“- well,” Greyson finished, and moved into the office to sit by his boss. Just as Elijah looked up from his lap, Greyson slapped a hand on his forehead.

“Enough,” Elijah said, pushing Greyson’s palm off. Greyson put both his palms on his knees and gave Elijah a knowing look.

“So, you’ve been sick all day, or…?”

“Greyson,” Elijah said, clearing his throat, “I’m fine.”

“You have a fever, Lij. Like, a pretty significant one.”

He knew, and he had known, but the words made Elijah’s eyes well and his throat close all the same. God, he hated having a fucking fever and all the stupid, ridiculous emotions that went along with it. Elijah took a breath, closed his eyes to collect himself, and addressed the chef.

“I’m not feeling 100%,” he said. “But I will be fine. You are sick – if I’m not 100%, then you must be at like 10% at this point.”

“I don’t have a fever,” Greyson pointed out, taking Elijah’s hand and placing it on his cool head. “See?”

Elijah bit his cheek to keep from snapping. “Alright,” he said. “Whatever. Still, you need to go home; it’s a big day tomorrow.”

“I will when you do,” Greyson said, shrugging. Elijah, completely spent, and done arguing, just turned off his computer – paperwork be damned for the night.

“Fine,” he said, putting his hands up in surrender. “Let’s call it a night.”

Greyson, clearly confused, just raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Alright boss,” he said, grabbing his jacket. “See you tomorrow.”

***

If there was one thing Greyson knew about Elijah, it was this: if you wanted him to admit defeat, you had to corner him.

When he woke up at oh-dark-thirty that morning, Greyson felt lucky that he was no worse for the wear then he was the night before. Was he stuffed-up to the gills? Yes. Did he have an incessant, grating cough? Yeah. But ultimately, it was a cold, and he’d work through far worse many more times.

So, despite the fact that it was still dark out, Greyson donned his hoodie and set out for the restaurant. On the way to the early-morning subway, he called Matt.

“...Hello?” Matt answered on the third ring. “Chef?”

“Mbornin’ sunshine,” Greyson said, coughing into the receiver. “How’re you feeling?”

“Uh…” Matt said, attempting to gather his bearings. “Better. Am I supposed to be at the restaurant now? I thought I was scheduled at eight.” Greyson heard him push back a blanket and plant his feet on the floor. “You sound like shit, by the way. Sorry about that.”

“Inevitable,” Greyson said, a brush-off. “And you aren’t scheduled til eight, but I have sombe very important, pre-work, Executive Sous shit I ndeed your help with.”

“Sure, boss,” Matt said, and Greyson could hear him changing clothes, using mouthwash, and whispering goodbye to Mark. “Anything you need.”

“Good man,” Greyson said, pausing at the top of the subway steps. “Could you pick up cough drops, Mucinex, and a hot water bottle, if you see one? Oh, and a real blanket. I’ll Venmo you some mboney.”

“Uh, sure, boss. Is this… for you?”

“Not for me,” Greyson said, coughing into his sleeve. “For Elijah. He’s down bad.”

“Oh. Oh, shit,” Matt said. “Yeah, okay, for sure boss. Whatever you need.”

“Thanks, mban. Hey, I’mb about to head down to the subway, text mbe if you have any – hh! HTSHH-ue! Fuck, sorry,” Greyson wiped his nose on the back of his hand. “Mbaybe grab more tissues while you’re there,” he amended.

“Sure, Chef. Bless.”

“You’re the best, Mbatt. Always knew you’d make a perfect number two.”

Greyson could hear the eye roll through the phone. “Don’t get sappy, old man,” Matt said. “See you soon.”

***

To say Elijah felt like shit would’ve been the understatement of the century.

When he woke up that morning, Elijah was fairly sure he was dying. The fever he’d crawled into bed with hadn’t budged, his sinuses were packed, and he’d officially acquired the final gem on his sick-as-fuck gauntlet: the cough. This day was going to be absolute hell.

Elijah did his level best to get ready for the busy service; he managed to take about half a shower before he had to sit down, dizzy from exertion; he’d gotten one contact in before sneezing so hard he almost poked his eye out and settled on glasses; he’d even found the strength to put on a pair of pants, though a button down was entirely too much for his shaking hands, so he settled on a cardigan that looked passable enough. God he hoped the servers – and Mark – would be able to hold down the fort out front, because this was nothing short of tragic.

Unwilling to deal with the subway and unable to drive safely in this state, Elijah settled on calling an Uber to work. It was early, a little before eight, but he knew if he didn’t get there now, he’d never make it.

“Happy Thanksgiving!” the driver said, leaving Elijah to immediately regret his decision not to drive. “Pretty early to be up and at ‘em. You heading to see family?”

Elijah cleared his throat as best he could before begrudgingly responding to the driver. “Ndot quite,” he said, his voice strained and congested. “Worki – HGSTHH-ue! HRSSH! ETSZCH-uh!” Elijah attempted to hold back the sneezes, unsuccessfully. Sans any tissues, he wiped his nose on his sweater sleeve. “Excuse mbe, sorry.”

“Working and sick on a holiday?” the driver said, shaking his head. “That’s rough, man. Bless you.”

Elijah’s face flamed, but he was in no state to deny. “Yeah,” he said instead. “Thangks.”

The rest of the drive was in blessed silence, and Elijah made sure to tip the guy extra for being exposed to whatever plague he was walking around with. When he finally pushed through the back door of the restaurant, Elijah felt like he’d already lived a lifetime today; he really wasn’t sure how much he’d be able to take.

“Elijah!” Greyson’s voice reached him before Elijah could even see his face. “Happy Thanksgiving, you sick old fuck!”

Elijah turned the corner and almost burst into tears – there stood Greyson, his face pale and nose bright red, and Matt and Mark looking no better, outside of his office; his office that had been, essentially, turned into a cozy-looking bedroom.

There were blankets on the floor, the chairs removed, and medicine on the desk. The harsh office light had been shut off, and instead one of the lamps from the host stand glowed gently from behind the computer. And, perhaps most heart-rendering, in Greyson’s hand was a bowl of steaming soup, and in Matt’s, a cup of tea.

“I know you hate working the holidays, and feeling like shit is just insult to injury,” Greyson said, setting down the bowl so he could guide Elijah into the office. “So we thought we’d mbake it just a little less shitty.”

Elijah allowed himself to be lead in, unable to find the words to thank his friend. He turned into his elbow to cough, a welcome respite from the tears he could feel threatening to spill over. “Grey,” he said when he’d gathered himself. “I… this is so… you guys…” he swallowed around the lump in his throat and shook his head. “I don’t kndow what to say,” he said, looking up at Greyson. “Thangk you.”

“Ah, save it,” Greyson said, placing a hand on his friend’s back. “You’re always looking after us. Call it our Thanksgiving to you.”

Elijah smiled a little, punched Greyson’s arm lightly, and allowed himself to be pulled into a hug. Heading to see family? the Uber driver had asked him. Maybe he had been, after all.

#whiskeyswriting #snz #sickfic #snzfic #coldfic #snez #snzblr #male cold #male snz #male ocs #original character

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feeshies · 10 months

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An assortment of cases I studied this semester which I will never forget (they're all for torts)

Guy sees some boys on one of his many sheds so he throws a stick at one of the boys to get him off his shed but he accidentally hits the wrong boy who was sitting on his shed

Guy is upset that a bar is closed for the night so he reacts reasonably by attacking the front door with a hatchet

A woman in a cult finally convinces the cult leader to let her leave, so they sail back to America on his yacht and when they arrive he keeps the yacht in the harbor and doesn't let her sail to shore

A grocery store employee told an old lady “if you want to know the price, you’ll have to find out the best way you can…you stink to me.” Personally, I find this statement incomprehensible. But apparently she found it offensive enough that she sued for emotional distress.

Internet service provider can't get this spam email company to stop harassing its customers with unwanted emails. People are unsubscribing because of them. ISP creates a software to filter through spam. Spam email company makes another software to get around new software. 50K enemies to lovers slow burn.

Guy broke into what he thought was an abandoned house, only to discover that the owner had a spring-loaded shotgun trap set up

Women went to doctor for ear surgery. While under anesthesia, the doctor realized that her other ear was a bigger concern, so he operated on the other ear.

Woman and husband discover that the doctor's assistant they let into their home was "just some guy." (Actual wording was "an unmarried, young unprofessional man." Which is going in my Tinder bio.)

It was the Great Fire of 1853 and this dude's house had to be demolished to prevent the fire from getting worse.

Taxi driver was held at gunpoint but he managed to jump out of the cab but the cab sped off without a driver and hit someone. Also the judge decided to write about it in the weirdest possible way.

Guy went to get a urethral swab done and they had him stand the entire time?

Someone slips on banana

Someone slips on milk

Someone slips on pizza

Someone slips on grapes

Barrel of flour falls from top story window and onto guy's head

Guy carrying package is running through train station and trips, but the package is full of fireworks and the package explodes and the explosion causes a giant clock to fall onto a woman.

A plank falls off of a loading dock and creates a spark that causes an explosion

Oil spills onto the water, but some cotton got onto the oil and that was enough for the oil to go up in flames and burn an entire ship and wharf

Vibrations from an explosion cause a minx to eat her babies

Woman goes to use her outhouse and falls through the floor. Landlord tries to say that she assumed the risk because "she could clearly see the outhouse was in bad condition!"

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aphroditestummyrolls · 8 months

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The Jesper Honeypot Whump Oneshot (not yet finished, so not yet on ao3– snippets part 1, 2, and 3 here on tumblr)

Jesper ends up narrowly escaping a honeypot mission gone wrong. And, of course, as he’s sleeping off the drug in his and Wylan’s room, a stranger comes to call. The constabulary pointed him in the direction of the Crow Club— he’s looking for his son, Jesper? Cue a lot of very anxious crows.

Plus part 4– a snippet for @celestialcass

The actual mechanism of the job was quite simple— distraction, extraction, escape. Nothing was difficult, but some of it, according to The Bastard of the Barrel, takes time to be done properly. Stealing the laundry cart, and getting costumes as hotel security; making sure to be seen on a totally separate floor by at least three people before slipping into the service elevator and making their way up to the vaults; breaking into the right safe— it all took the better part of half past too damned long.

Long enough to have Wylan’s guts twisting in knots. Every time he dared to glance at Kaz, it was infuriatingly the same. He had his back to the door, utterly trusting Wylan to keep watch while he— at least, in theory— cracked the safe. But, he’d barely moved in what felt like hours.

He was about to whisper something harsh when, as if on cue, there was a click and the crunch of gears. The door swung open. Kaz even glanced back at him, a smirk on his face like he could hear Wylan’s thoughts.

He bit his tongue, and went back to keeping watch. It wouldn’t be long now. Just get the tiara, and let’s go.

In the lamplight of the corridor, he fidgeted, glancing this way and that, begging the universe to not have anybody walk their way. Please, please. They didn’t have the time for that.

Fiddling with the cuff of his itchy uniform, Wylan glanced down and paused. His heart clenched in his chest, and he sucked in a slow breath. Letting it out long, he watched as the two rings on his hand glittered side by side in the light.

Wylan thought this was a bad idea from the start.

Kaz had called him a jealous little boyfriend— and maybe, hopefully, he was partially right. Wylan had never wanted so badly to be wrong about a hunch. As long as Jesper was safe, it would be worth it to get another one of those I told you so smirks.

But, Wylan Van Eck was nobody’s boyfriend— jealous little fiancé, he had corrected. It made Jesper laugh. He had scooped Wylan’s hand into his, slipping his own ring onto Wylan’s middle finger, beside his own. He called it safekeeping, and kissed the spoon-made silver rings on his knuckles, one and then the other.

It’s only an hour or two, merchling, Jes had shrugged, and then I’ll be back by your side.

Now, if Wylan wasn’t mistaken, they were coming up on the end of that second hour, and Jesper Fahey was due to be back where he belonged. No worse for wear, a smile on his handsome face, and his own ring back on his hand. Wylan only saw the mark for a split second, but he didn’t like the look of him, and he—

There was a quiet whistle, and two taps of a cane against the floor.

The signal.

While I take the service elevator back down to the laundry room, you’ll take the servant’s stairs through the back of the building. Go down to the bar, he remembered Kaz delivering the plan. Your presence will warn Matthias, Nina, and Jesper that it’s time to get moving.

Then, we meet at the escape cart, and Annika drives us out the back loading dock.

Clear?

Crystal.

Every step he took brought him closer to this night being over. Inej got her ledger of slavers, Kaz got his crown, and Wylan got Jesper back. Done.

Except, when he reached the bar, Jesper was gone. He was nowhere in the whole place. Even Nina was gone. Matthias, too.

Wylan’s pulse skyrocketed in his ears. Something was very wrong.

#still on the fence about that kiss picture on the moodboard… the guys skin is too light and it drives me insane that is a white guy yall #but it really suited the vibes and it came up like immediately for wesper aesthetic and I was like ????? okay #anyway maybe by the time I finish this story I’ll have a better kiss for the moodboard #six of crows #shadow and bone #grishaverse #wesper #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #kaz brekker

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readingismyhappyplacee · 2 years

Text

JJ Put that Gun Away.

Summary: Summertime is full of fishing, fooling around and Keggers. NOT guns and stealing. What could go wrong? (Fanfic for OBX S1: Ep.1).

JJ Maybank x Reader Fanfic

Warnings: Use and mention of guns, swearing, mentions of drowning.

ALL RIGHTS to Josh and Jonas Pate and Shannon Burke for characters, plot and dialogue, etc. In some cases, scenes and dialouge altered to fit my own ideas.

Y/N could hear the hooting and hollering of her friends from a mile away. The familiar brown Volkswagen van deemed “The Twinkie” howling along with the sound of their voices could be heard as it rounded the corner at the end of the street. Y/N smiled as she could see JJ’s head poking out of the side door, looking right at her.

“You’re going to have to jump in while it’s moving M’Lady! This vessel stops for no one!” JJ yelled at the girl in a funny voice. “Just bend your knees!”

“Uhh, actually JJ, this is our next stop. Did you forget she brought the drinks?” John B’s voice could be heard as the van screeched to a halt in front of her.

“Right.”

JJ and John B hopped out to grab the cooler full of drinks and food Y/N so kindly put together for todays venture. They loaded it into the already stuffed van. Y/N hopped in afterwards.

Soon enough the trio arrived at John B’s place. Unfortunately about nine months ago, John B’s father was lost at sea looking for a shipwreck and presumed dead shortly after. His mother and uncle are in other states, not even close to coming to the Cut. He’s been living by himself ever since and refuses to believe his father is dead until he finds his body. So now, the Château, as it’s called, is the base of operations. Free reign to do whatever a Pogue wants, whenever they want.

JJ on the other hand, doesn’t have much luck either. The blonde has an abusive dad and no other family to support him. He’s finding it hard to get by with a minimum wage job and daddy issues. It’s amazing how tough he is, but Y/N understands that he has to be to get through day by day. The girl helps out when she can by offering her cleaning services, picking up the many beer cans and cigarettes in the house when Jake isn’t there and offering as much food to the boys as she can without her parents finding out. Luckily though, they all have each other and that’s the best thing they could ask for.

Down at the dock, the boys load the cooler onto the boat and JJ offers Y/N a hand stepping in.

“M’Lady.” He bows, taking off his hat and putting it back on again.

A blush dances across her face, though it is unbeknownst to JJ, so she laughs to hide the truth of her feelings towards the boy. It was a rule the group had. No Pogue on Pogue macking. No matter how strong the feelings were. If it was true love or even soulmates, it was strictly forbidden. And even if it wasn’t a rule, she had no chance. JJ was hooking up with a new girl at every party and Kegger hosted lately. It was like he couldn’t get enough. So when he was flirty like that, there was no genuine meaning behind it. It was just JJ being JJ.

Hurricane Agatha had just blown over the Outer Banks, rocking the south side to shambles. As the three friends set off, more and more damage could be seen along the shoreline. Boats, docks, houses, fences - you name it. Every hurricane made the Cut look better yesterday.

The boat approached the marina which was jostling with people on clean-up duty. At least it was bright and sunny today to put people in better moods than before.

“Hi, Miss Amy, you guys make it through?” John B waves at a woman and her husband.

“We’re still here!” She replied back.

JJ wiggled his eyebrows and smirked.

“She totally looked at me,” He said.

“Pfft. As if JJ. She wouldn’t even touch you with a 10 foot pole.” Y/N scoffed. JJ feigned hurt.

“Ouch! Watch yourself Y/N, or I’m pushing you in!”

The mess Agatha made was unimaginable. As if reading her thoughts JJ whistled out loud, “Agatha what did you do?”

Pope, another member of the group could be seen filling a bucket with water at the end of his dock. He got stuck with clean-up too. Pope was the smartest of them all. The kid had a full ride scholarship to one of the state’s most prestigious schools. It was unknown why he chose to hang out with such a group of troubled teenagers. He was always so cautious and tense, like his dad was watching. I mean, Heyward was always watching.

“Well, look who we have here.” John B mimics a radio. “We have a mandatory safety meeting, over.”

Pope stops what he’s doing, looking annoyed. John B slows the boat down.

“I can’t. My pop’s got me on lockdown.”

“You’re dad’s a pussy, over.” That time it was JJ.

“Oh, I heard that one you little bastard!”

Heyward. Pope’s father. Not the most approving of his son’s friends but he does his best to understand. Thankfully, Y/N’s parents are good friends with his family. “Hey Y/N, keeping these idiots in line?”

“I try to. It only works if they listen.” She smiles.

“We need your son.” John B interrupts.

“Yeah. And island rules: Day after a hurricane is a free day.” JJ adds.

“Now who in the hell made that up, son?”

“Uhhh… The pentagon I think? We have security clearance. I have a card.”

“Do you really think I’m stupid. Do they think i’m stupid?” Heyward looks at his son.

“I’ll do it tomorrow dad, I promise. I’ll help clean tomorrow.” Pope and his dad bicker back and forth and he slowly creeps towards the boat. Once Pope’s feet hit the deck John B accelerates forward.

“I promise i’ll do it tomorrow!”

“We’ll bring him back in one piece!” Y/N yells back.

All that could be heard is the cursing of Heyward and the gentle splash of the water against the boat towards the neck stop, Kiara. Kiara was Y/N’s best friend. Though she was born a Kook, she was a Pogue more than anything. Rich parents, fancy house and all the nicest clothes. She had all the best things. If she wasn’t with the friend group, she was out saving turtles or promoting some paper-straw activist type things online. Y/N was jealous that she seemed to always catch the attention of boys her age. Maybe she was prettier? More outgoing and funnier? Y/N thought she was enough to fit in, but sometimes it felt like Kie was always in the spotlight, for every boy. She didn’t dare tell her this of course, nothing good would come out of it. They are supposed to be best friends.

Kiara walked down the ramp. JJ greeted her in an Irish accent. He also held her hand as she got in. Y/N tried her best to conceal her face so she looked into her lap.

“Hey, Y/N,” Kiara greeted, forcing Y/N to look up.

“Hey, Kie, how you holding up?”

“Oh ya know, hurricane lockdown things.” They both laughed. That was another reason she couldn’t hate her. She always greeted her first and made her feel included in every conversation. She couldn’t hate her even if she tried.

John B picked up the speed of the boat as they headed out into the marsh. They cracked open some beer and for what seemed like the thousandth time, JJ tried out his “party trick.”

“JJ, you know it never works.”

“Ah! You’re getting beer in my hair!”

Suddenly the boat came to a halt, sending JJ flying off the bow and into the water. Kiara and John B are sent to the deck from their seats.Y/N is halfway off the bow clinging for dear life after just standing up to get JJ to come down. Pope’s abdomen slams against the steering wheel. Groans from each teen are let out respectively.

“Jesus Pope.” Kiara blurts out what everyone is thinking.

JJ resurfaces with a loud gasp for air.

“I think my heels touched my head.” He moaned.

Y/N groans again sitting up and clutching her chest.

“Aw man that’s definitely gonna bruise.”

“I hit a sandbar. The channel changed. Sorry guys.” Pope felt bad. He steps up onto the bow to get a better look at where to navigate. His expression turns to shock.

“Guys! I think there’s a boat down there.”

“Yeah right!”

“No, no. For real, I’m not kidding.”

JJ swims over to get a better look while the rest of the gang almost tip the boat, looking in the direction of where Pope was pointing.

“Shit let’s go!”

Y/N peels off her jean shorts and tank top before diving into the water to join JJ. The rest follow suit. With one huge breath, Y/N submerged herself underwater with the rest of her friends. Even in the murkiness of the water, an unmistakable outline of a Grady White is seen. Whoever’s boat this was they are probably looking for it, that is, if they’re even still alive. Y/N swims inside, a powerful swimmer and certified diver, she looks for any signs of who this boat belongs to. Nothing.

The friends resurface. Gasping for air but in obvious excitement about the discovery.

“That’s a Grady White!” JJ exclaims. “A new one of those is like five hundred grand. Easy.”

They all laugh, climbing back onto the boat.

“That’s the boat I saw when I surfed the surge!”

John B suddenly remembers.

“You surfed the surge?” Y/N and Kiara ask together. “Jinx.”

“That’s my boy! Pogue style!” JJ high fives his best friend.

“Seriously John B that’s dangerous! “ Y/N exclaims. “What the heck!”

“Wait, guys, do we know whose boat that is?”

“I tried to get a good look, but it’s too deep.” Y/N said. “Give me the anchor.”

John B rummages through a compartment in the deck, handing Y/N the anchor.

“Payback !” JJ screams, pushing the girl into the water.

She shrieks as she plummets into the water.

“JJ that wasn’t nice!” Kiara scolds.

“Hey, she asked for it earlier.” He shrugs it off.

Y/N swims the path towards the boat, attempting to get a better look at anything more than she already saw. She spots a key dangling from a pole near the steering wheel, but struggles to get it unhooked.

Meanwhile, the four friends stand worried. “She’s been down there a while man, should I go get her? JJ asks.

“Nah she’s got this. Believe in her.”

JJ frowned, worry evident on his face. Pope noticed.

“You like her!”

“What- no! I don’t like anyone, especially not her! Remember rule number one?”

“Liar!”

“I’ve been waiting for someone to bring that up! Finally!” Kiara chimed.

“We’re just friends okay guys? Nothing more. Now shut up.”

“Jeez JJ you’re blushing so hard it looks like you have a sunburn!” John B teased.

“I said shut up!”

JJ couldn’t be more thankful Y/N was underwater right now, even if she may be drowning. It’s true he may have a bit of a crush on her, but he knew the rules. Instead, he uses other girls as distractions from the fact.

The sound of the topic-of-conversation girl breaking the surface brought JJ back to real life.

“I found a key!” She managed to say between breaths.

JJ and his friends breath sighs of relief. No CPR was needed. He went to the edge of the boat, effortlessly pulling her up towards him. She lost her balance slightly but he grabbed her waist to steady her. The action did not go unnoticed by the rest. JJ quickly jumped backwards like he stepped in a fire. Y/N shot him a puzzled glance but said nothing.

“I think it’s a motel key.” She said, drying herself off with a towel.

“Great. A damn key. “ JJ scowled. He was hoping for anything worth some cash.

“Guys I think we should report this to the coast guard, maybe get a finders fee?” Kiara pointed out.

“Yeah, then we don’t have to work all summer.”

The crew headed back into town to go report the wreck. The sun was beginning to set ever so slowly and the warm glow illuminated Y/N’s face as she stared off into the horizon.

“What’s on your mind, sunshine?” JJ sat next to her for the first time after his awkward moment.

Y/N was surprised he called her a nickname she’s never heard of.

“I haven’t heard that one before.”

“I think it suits you.”

“Thanks JJ.”

The girl avoided the question, not wanting to tell him he was the one on her mind all of the time. She waited in the HMS Pogue while the others attempted to talk to someone about finding the sunken boat. With the recent hurricane and the damage it created, many people were lined up with complaints. Her friends came back quickly with another plan.

“The motel? Are you crazy?” Pope said.

“I call lookout.” Y/N said.

“Me and JJ will check it out.” John B suggested.

When the group arrived at the motel, it appeared very run down, and not just by the hurricane.

“This isn’t exactly 5 stars.”

“Yeah, it looks like a place someone with a Grady White would get killed.” Pope shuddered.

JJ and John B jumped to shore. Not wanting to draw attention to the rest do the group, the trio left pretended to be hanging out and talking.

“Be careful.” Kiara spoke softly to John B.

Last Y/N heard was something about a mattress.

“Be sooooooo careful John B.” JJ teased as they searched for the matching room number.

“Ever since she heard you were on exile she’s told you to be careful. Oh, give me that John D already. Why don’t you hop on that man?”

John B scoffed.

“You know the rules. No Pogue on Pogue macking. And don’t get me started on you and Y/N.”

“I don’t like her I told you this already.”

“Like hell you don’t dude. You’re always looking at her.”

JJ glared at his best friend. He licked his lips.

“Okay, c’mon man of course I’m looking at her, she’s hot. Can we forget about the rules?”

John B stopped in front of room 229 and stayed silent, fumbling with the keys.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“You need help. Like, serious help.”

“Still a yes! Housekeeping!” JJ said in a high-pitched voice. With no response, the boys entered the room.

Down below, the trio on the boat were having a similar conversation.

“Do you have a thing for John B?” Y/N asked her best friend.

Pope looked away from the motel to look at Kiara’s facial expression, amused by Y/N’s blunt question. Kiara rolled her eyes and stood up.

“I don’t. I’m just worried about him. The whole foster thing must really suck.”

“And you’re not just worried about him in a different way?” Y/N suggested, grinning.

“Oh my god stop it! I don’t! And how about JJ, everyone knows-“

“Guys, cops! Cops!” Pope interrupted.

In the small parking lot full of debris, the sheriff’s pickup truck could be seen pulling in and stopping. Y/N groaned.

“Why does my dad have to ruin everything!”

Deputy Shoupe and Deputy Plumb exit the car and talk with a man nearby. They start pointing to the second level of the motel, exactly where JJ and John B were.

“We have to warn them.” Kiara said. She jumps off the boat and books it to the side of the motel. Pope and Y/N exchange glances before following, trying not to be seen by Y/N’s police officer father. Staring up at the window, the stress begins to set in.

“Okay stand back.” Pope said, picking up a rock. He looked up at the window and threw it. The rock barely made it halfway up before gravity brought it back down again.

“Didn’t you ever play baseball?” Kiara pegged.

Y/N laughed.

“I was on the math team!” He whisper-yelled back.

Kiara also tried to throw a rock but missed. She tried it again and it made a loud ‘tink’ sound against the glass. Y/N picked up one and it did the same. JJ and John B’s faces could be seen through the blinds almost instantly.

“Cops! There’s Cops! Cops!” The friends on the ground simultaneously whispered and pointed at the entrance to the room. The boys could be seen scrambling in the room. The three friends sprinted to the boat, ready to leave at any second.

“Should we peel?” Kiara asked.

“No! Never leave a Pogue behind.” Pope said.

“Guys look! They’re on the awning!” Y/N pointed.

JJ and John B were in fact on the small ledge of the awning on either sides of the window. Their positions looking very uncomfortable. JJ laughed silently while John B used his pointer finger to tell the rest of the group to be quiet.

The boys were up there for a while until suddenly something fell out of JJ’s pocket, hit the awning and fell to the ground a few feet down. John B visibly cringed. The blinds to the window retracted and Shoupe’s figure looked outside. Pope, Y/N and Kiara quickly attempted to look away and act like they weren’t involved.

“This is gonna be tough to explain later.” Y/N sighed.

Theslamming of a door caught their attention as the officers began to leave. Shoupe handed a duffel bag to the other officer. Before leaving, Shoupe came towards the boat. Y/N glanced at her friends’ position at the window, then back at her dad before he noticed her staring.

“Hey, sweet pea, what are y’all doing here?” He looked between the three of them.

“Uhhh.. Hey Dad I didn’t see you here!”

“My aunt was visiting and staying here. We just came to check on her. We were just about to leave.” Pope interjected.

“Yeah, Dad. We wanted to make sure she was okay. What are you doing here?”

“Ah, someone reported missing. Just like after every hurricane. Doing my part to make sure there’s no dead bodies around.” He chuckled like what he said was normal. It was obvious where Y/N’s bluntness came from. Y/N awkwardly laughed, hoping to speed this conversation up.

“Did you find anything?”

“Nah. Just an empty motel room.”

“Cool.”

“I have to go. See you later honey. Stay out of trouble kids!” Shoupe saluted and walked back to the truck. JJ and John B made their way down after a few minutes to make sure the coast was clear.

“Holy shit, man. That was crazy!” JJ exclaimed., jumping into the boat with John B on his tail. Pope pulled away from shore and back out towards the exit.

“Why did he lie about taken things from the room?” Y/N asked. No one was sure.

“Did you guys find anything?” Pope asked the boys, changing the subject.

“Did we find anything?” JJ repeated. He pulled out a stack of money and a gun. The biggest grin was on his face. Y/N moved away from him.

“Are you insane?” She yelled.

“I’m going to lose my scholarship.” Pope moaned.

“It’s better than the cops having it!” JJ reasoned.

“No it’s not, dude! Anyone else that’s not you is better.”

JJ grabbed Pope and put the barrel to his mouth in a “shush” motion. Pope pushed him off.

“I’m living a nightmare.”

The group found their way back to the marina. As they were offloading there was a commotion with another large boat. Paramedics and the police were surrounding a man that looked to be dead. A dead body. As they were wheeling the body away from the boat, a woman ran frantically towards it.

“Scooter! Scooter!” She yelled. She clung to the man, caressing his face and assessing his condition. She broke down into tears. It was Lana Grubbs.

“Who’s that?” Y/N asked her friends.

“That’s Scooter Grubbs.” A random girl next to them chimed in. “He was out during the storm. Check out this pic I got. Dead body.” She bragged. She pulled out her phone and began to show a close up picture of the man being wheeled away in front of them. Y/N shuddered. Was that who her dad was looking for?

“What type of boat did he have?” JJ asked the girl.

“Somehow that dirtbag copped a brand new Grady White.”

The friends glanced between each other silently. Y/N looked at JJ and found that he was already looking at her. She gave him a look asking for more information but he just shrugged.

“Everyone’s out looking for it.” She added.

Back at the Chateau, Pope was telling everyone to keep their mouths shut about the situation. His panicked look on his face was enough to let everyone know he was terrified.

“We all have complete and total amnesia, okay?”

“For once I agree with you Pope. Deny, deny, deny.” JJ said.

“We can’t keep that money,” Kiara said. “It’s bad karma.”

“She’s right you know, it doesn’t belong to us. It belongs to Lana Grubbs,” Y/N added.

“Not everyone can afford unlimited data plans, ladies.” They rolled their eyes.

“Look, JJ I’ll help you out a little more this week if we just return the money.” Y/N’s tone softened, trying to reason with the blonde. He looked at her, silently adoring how she worried about him.

“Let’s go dark.” Pope said.

“If it means I get to keep the money, I’m in.”

John B finally spoke up.

“I don’t agree.” He said. “This is Scooter Grubbs we’re talking about. Same dude that buys individual cigarettes. Shit, one time I saw him begging for change in front of the Save-a-lot because he needed gas! This guy has never had more than forty bucks in his pocket and all of a sudden he’s got a Grady White? Just saying.”

“I need a break from you guys.” Pope moaned, standing up to walk to the dock.

“Look, Pope, how does a guy like Scooter get a Grady White?”

“Prostitution?”

“Square groupers bro. Flying under the radar, no aerial surveillance, they don’t do that stuff during a hurricane.” John B reasoned. “What does that mean, JJ?”

“They were straight smugglin’.” He grinned.

“I’m guessing there’s a crap ton of contraband on that boat.” Y/N added.

“Okay so if there was that kind of stuff on board, and it belongs to someone, they’re going to come looking for it, right? So taking it would be catastrophically stupid.”

“You’re right.” JJ said. “But stupid things have good outcomes all the time. All we need to do is find a way to get into that cargo hold of that wreck and then lay low.”

“And how exactly do we do that?” Pope asked.

“Kegger?” Kiara proposed.

Y/N had went over to Kiara’s house to steal an outfit for the night.

“Red or pink?” She asked Kiara.

“Red. JJ won’t stop staring at you if you don’t.”

“C’mon Kie, stop teasing. You and me both know he doesn’t like me like that. Look at all the women he hooks up with. You don’t see me on the list.”

“Fine! Don’t listen to me! But open your eyes girl!”

Y/N was mad that Kie was playing with her feelings. She knew that JJ would never think of her like that. Was she not telling her something?

“I’m a police officer’s daughter Kie, no guy wants to talk to me.”

Within an hour, the group had gathered all the materials for the Kegger and met at the Boneyard. Y/N spotted JJ up ahead. His blonde hair unmistakably glistening in the sunset glow. She wondered if he would talk to her tonight or take off with another new girl. Once down to the sand, the keg was set up and ready to go. John B started filling up cups of beer for everyone. Soon, a crowd started to form. The boneyard was a mix of three crowds, the Pogues, the Kooks and the Tourons. The Tourons are just kids here on vacation with their families for the summer. As the night progressed, Y/N found her place with a group of Pogues she knows from school. The group was laughing around a fire, retelling a story about how a teacher was caught making out with a student after class. The principal found them and he was fired right away. The kid only got a 3 day suspension. Y/N felt someone sit next to her. She looked to her left. A boy around her age with curly brown hair and a lanky stature smiled at her. A Touron.

“Hi. I’m Dean.” He greeted. “I’m not from here and you look pretty friendly enough to talk to.”

This made Y/N laugh.

“Why thank you. I’m Y/N. Welcome to the island.”

She shook hands with the boy jokingly. She could feel the effects of the alcohol she was drinking starting to flow through her body.

“Another beer?” Someone with a keg asked.

Y/N accepted the beer with a grateful smile then turned back to Dean.

“So, new guy, where you from?”

“San Fran. I’m a long way from home.” He smiled. “My moms friend recommended it here, but too bad there was a hurricane. Cut our holiday in half. We head back in a few days.”

“Ah, big city guy. I could tell, you all have the same vibe.” She teased.

“Hey! I’m officially offended.”

She laughed. “Sorry about Agatha though, really, she was a real pain in the ass.” The two continued to talk about random things. Y/N thought that he was a nice boy to talk to, but he wasn’t JJ.

“See, those are my best friends over there.” She pointed out Kiara and John B. Then a little ways over at Pope. She couldn’t find JJ. “We do everything together.” Y/N was five drinks in. Maybe six. She lost count. Not once did this boy try to make a move on her. At first she was thankful because it is always awkward trying to tell them no, but at the same time her heart sunk because it’s always been that way. There was no way he knew she was the daughter of a cop. He doesn’t live here.

“So, Y/N do you have a boyfr-“ Dean’s sentence was cut off when Y/N suddenly stood up to the the sound of JJ’s voice. He sounded like he was in an argument.

“You’re so funny man!” She heard him yell.

Over to the right of where she sat she could see Sarah Cameron and her no-good boyfriend Topper, along with the rest of her friends. JJ did not look happy. None of them did.

“Sorry. I’ll be right back. I’m just going to check up on my friends. They seem a little drunk.”

As she approached the commotion, Topper called them “dirty Pogues.” That term set John B off. He forcefully shoved Topper backwards, causing him to stumble. Topper looked shocked and then lunged forward and threw a punch so hard at John B’s face that it looked like it would knock his teeth out. John B fell against the sand, unable to stand up.

“Babe! Babe!” Sarah attempted to stop her boyfriend from causing any harm, but it was no use,Topper hated Pogues. Topper continued to kick John B until he reached the edge of the water.

“Hey John B, don’t make me do what happened to your old man, all right?”

The crowd around began to chant for them to fight.

“Stop!” Y/N screamed at them, rushing in. JJ held her back, shaking his head no. If it wasn’t for the situation it would’ve felt like a hug.

“Guys stop!” Kiara hissed at Topper and John B.

John B mustered up enough to stand again and used his momentum to tackle Topper into the shallow tide. Both attackers now soaked from the cool water.

“Let him go John B!” Pope yelled.

They continued to throw punches at the others abdomen and back. John B was able to land a few good hits.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” JJ cheered.

Topper and John B continued to trade hits. Unfortunately, Topper was able to gain the upper hand and slam John B into the water face first. He then got on top of him.

Sarah and Kiara began to scream. JJ had never looked so frightened in his life for his best friend.

“JJ do something!” Y/N screamed at him. JJ looked torn. He ran towards Topper and John B and pulled out the gun.

“No JJ!” Y/N called after him, terrified.

JJ rested it on the crown of Toppers head after he cocked it.

“Yeah, you know what that is. Let him go.”

The crowd of people started screaming and dispersed ridiculously fast after spotting the gun.

“JJ put the gun down!” Y/N tried again.

“Okay, okay we’re good man!” The anxiety in Topper’s voice was evident. He rose with his hands in the air.

“Everyone listen up! Get the hell off my side of the island!” JJ screamed at the top of his lungs. He rose the gun in the air and shot it twice to prove that he was in control. Sarah and Topper ran off. Y/N covered her ears. She was terrified of guns after her mother was shot on duty when she was a thirteen. Y/N had never been told the full story but the tale left it’s mark. Mrs. Shoupe has since retired from being a police officer and chose to write books instead. A very drastic career change.

“Y/N!” Dean yelled at her. “Let’s leave!”

Dean was standing alone in the middle of the sand. He had waited for her to make sure she was okay, not knowing that JJ was her friend since she couldn’t find him when she was pointing them all out earlier.

“Who the fuck are you!” JJ pointed the gun at Dean. Dean put his hands in the air to show his surrender.

“Woah, woah man! I come in peace! Please!”

“JJ stop!” Y/N screamed.

“I said, who the fuck are you?!”

“I’m just here visiting the island! My name is Dean!”

JJ looked at Y/N, but put the gun down, finger still on the trigger. Dean visibly sighed of relief.

“How do you know him?”

“I-I met him earlier at the fire. JJ you’re scaring me with that please you know I hate them.” In the heat of the moment, JJ has totally forgotten your fear of guns. His demeanour changed completely. He put the gun back in his pocket and threw his hands on his forehead in frustration. Y/N huffed at his behaviour. She saw a different side of JJ tonight. One that she was not used to. He scared her and their friends and she just needed to go home. It’s been a long night. She looked her friends in the eye.

“Get some sleep guys, and make sure John B is alive.” She gestured to the boy who was halfway in the water. She gave on last glance to JJ before turning back up the trail with Dean right behind her. She burst into tears. Her crying heard by JJ as he watched her figure until she disappeared into the darkness. Y/N had hoped he would have at least apologized.

After last night Y/N woke up feeling anxious and upset. The image of JJ holding a gun haunted her memory. She knew it wouldn’t just go away. She remembered Dean walking her home and asked for her number before he left to go back to his hotel. She politely declined saying a mere ‘it’s complicated.’ He understood and said he was glad she was safe. He gave her his just in case she changed her mind. A text on her phone rung softly on the bedside table. She picked it up and a short text from Kiara read:

‘Hey I know after last night you don’t want to see JJ, but we need someone that knows how to dive. We’re searching that boat today and you’re the only one that knows how to properly dive and has the equipment. You in?’

‘Will he promise to get rid of the gun?’

‘No promises :(‘

Y/N groaned in her bed. Typical JJ. A knock on her door perked her up. Her father walks in, wearing his uniform.

“Hey sweet pea, I know sometimes it’s hard to be a dad and a police officer at the same time, but I know there was a gun used last night at that party. Do you know who had possession of it?”

Y/N froze in a silent panic. She couldn’t throw JJ under the bus like that, even if guns scared her. He would never forgive her and she would most likely never see him again.

“Uhh, no I was over on the other side of the fire. When the crowd of people started running saying that there was a gun I ran too. You know I hate them.” She tried her best to sound convincing. Sometimes her father was intimidating. He gave her a raised eyebrow.

“You sure? It sounded like it was one of your Pogue friends.”

“No they were all with me around that time.”

He hummed, definitely not satisfied with her answer.

“Well, the Sheriff already told me she knew who it was but didn’t give me his name. I figured you’d know who it was.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “Now, I don’t think the island is safe right now, so I need you to make smart decisions. No parties, no boats, no beaches and no hanging out with your little Pogue friends for a while. I don’t think they are very good influences.”

“Dad you can’t do that!” Y/N cried. “They’re my friends! I don’t care about the parties but that’s just not fair!”

“It’s what’s best. A man was found dead yesterday and I don’t need you being the next. The marsh is closed until we can find that sunken boat and any clues leading toward the investigation. I better see you here when I get back.”

And with that, Victor Shoupe was out the door without a final glance towards his daughter. His heavy footsteps heard as he descended the stairs.

“You could have at least closed the door!” Y/N got up with a huff, slamming it hard enough to prove she was upset. He was right about one thing, having a police officer father was hard. She raced back to her phone, tapping on Kiara’s contact.

‘Bad news. Dads got me on lockdown saying it isn’t safe right now. He said the marsh was closed so if we’re doing this it’s gotta be fast. Gotta sneak around my mom to get the gear.’

Luckily, Y/N’s mom was locked away in her study, like usual. It was one room she was never allowed into no matter the circumstance. She had caught glimpses at it, but not long enough to make out what she does in there. Sometimes she would walk by and hear her aggravated sighs and hear frantic typing on her laptop. She figured it was just her working on a new novel and writer’s block. Everything about that room was a secret to her. Even her father rarely entered. Y/N changed into her bikini and jean shorts before sneaking down the stairs after she heard her father leave and the pickup truck pull out of the driveway. Avoiding the study, she ducked out the back door to avoid being seen through the window at the front of the house. The diving gear was kept in their small shed in the backyard. Half of the memorabilia, toys and tools in here hadn’t seen the light of day in years. With her parents so focused on their careers they never surfed or gardened since she could remember. After her mother was shot, life had never been the same. It seemed like her dad was trying to prove that he has what it takes to become Sheriff one day and that her mother had to prove to the world that she is interesting enough to buy her books. Why was there anything to prove? None of her books made bestselling titles except for her autobiography of her life as a detective, wife and mother. She wrote mystery novels now. How fitting.

The shed was unlocked. After locating the box of diving gear, she double checked that there was a mask and an oxygen tank before lifting it off the shelf and sneaking around the house again. She hopped in her car, thankfully parked on the street before making her way to the Chateau, not ready to see JJ.

The boat ride out to the wreck was silent. The tension between Y/N and JJ could be felt from everyone around them. As John B came to a stop, Y/N brought out her gear, getting ready to hop in. John B threw out an anchor.

“Fuck. This tank is a quarter full. I guess it really has been that long. I don’t even know if this is safe.” Y/N said, displaying her thoughts out loud.

“Great, I love it when a plan comes together.” Pope said sarcastically.

“It should only be... “ She looked down at the boat below. “25 minutes if that boat is 30 feet down. I just have to mark a safety stop.”

With that she took a ribbon from the gear box and her shorts off and plummeted into the water.

“That was hot.” JJ blurted.

The friends rolled their eyes. Y/N resurfaced and jumped back into the boat.

“Okay I tagged about ten feet down the anchor line. It’s where I’ll do my safety stop.”

For the first time since last night, JJ spoke to Y/N.

“Okay, when you’re down there, you’re going to look for the cargo hold. You stick this thing inside and twist and pull, okay?”

Y/N nodded, grabbing the key from JJ. She was still waiting on that apology.

“See ya in a few!”

She placed the mask over her face, saluted to her friends and jumped into the water. The water in the marsh was murky, but the outline of the boat was evident amidst the cloudiness.

Above water, the sound of police siren whooped through the air.

“Oh shit it’s Y/N’s dad!”

“Just act frickin’ natural!”

“Evening, officers.”

“Evening.” Shoupe said in an assertive tone. He threw Pope a line to tie the boats together. The other cop from the motel raid was with him.

“How you kids doin’? You know the marsh is closed?” He asked.

“No.”

“No, wow.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Why- why was it closed?”

The friends tried to act as normal as possible. Their attempts feeble.

“We’re conducting a search out here. Boat went down. Seen anything?”

A collective round of ‘no’s’ came from the group. Shoupe didn’t seem terribly convinced. JJ suddenly remembered that Y/N was down there, using more and more oxygen by the minute. He prayed she wouldn’t pop out of the water anytime soon. Another situation with bad timing. The others seemed to realize too, attempting to hide their agitation from the officers. Shoupe noticed this.

“I’m going to uh, check your little boat out.”

“You wanna check, uh check her out, yeah.” John B stuttered.

“Thank you.”

Shoupe made his way into the boat. He glanced at each of the teenagers faces.

“You got any more of these?” He asked, holding up a life jacket.

“Yeah, yeah. There’s more in the hold.”

Kiara stood up so he could look under the seat.

JJ pulled out three more life jackets.

“Yeah, here you go.” He said.

Shoupe nodded sternly. He looked out onto the water, suspicious. He made his way to the bow of the boat.

“Be careful. You don’t want to slip.” Pope commented. Shoupe placed his sunglasses on, scanning the water for anything out of the ordinary. The sunset made it hard to search, creating a glare of colour on the surface.

“All right.” He concluded. “Beautiful day.”

“Sure is, sir.”

“Let us know if you see anything on your way out.”

“Will do.” Replied JJ and Pope.

“We’ll be gone soon sir.”

“Yes you will.”

Shoupe got back into his boat and drove away. When he was out of sight, the group rushed to the side, worried for the girl who was underwater.

“She’s definitely out of air.” Pope said.

“There she is!” JJ yelled.

“Oh god! Jesus Christ!”

Y/N gasped for air loudly and desperately. She pulled the mask off and swam towards the boat.

“How’d it go down there?” John B asked. “Did you find anything?”

Unable to speak properly, Y/N tossed a black bag she scavenged onto the deck near JJ’s feet. He grabbed it immediately.

“Hell yeah!” He said.

Y/N climbed the ladder, still short of breath.

“Yeah, you’re dad was here, but we took care of him.” Pope told her. Y/N let out an exasperated laugh.

“Gotta, get back, before he does.” She said between breaths. She sat down tiredly.

Kiara suddenly shifted.

“Hey, guys? Bogey at two o’clock.”

“What?”

A white boat was approaching the Pogues fast. Two men were on board. No one recognized it.

“Who is it?”

“I don’t know but let’s not stick around to find out. JJ get the bowline.” John B instructed. JJ tried to pull the anchor up as fast as he could.

“Guys don’t wait up for me!” He yelled.

“Let’s go!” Kiara added.

The boat did not slow down. John B started up the boat and headed into the marsh. The mysterious boat and its occupants turned to follow them.

“They’re following us!”

Y/N turned around at the same time the passenger began to pull out a gun. Her eyes widened.

“Gun! They’ve got a gun!” She alerted her friends before ducking down to avoid the line of fire. The first shot was sent out, narrowly missing John B who was intent on driving the boat as fast as he could. The rest of the gang lowered to the deck. JJ instinctively covered Y/N as best he could, shielding her from any potential bullets. He remembered her fear of guns this time.

“John B, get down!” He yelled at his best friend.

The perpetrator opened fire a second time. The boat was gaining on them.

“Oh my god we’re gonna die!” Pope yelled. A third shot rung out.

“Shit! Pope, move!” Kiara said, standing up to reach the net at the back of the boat. Another bullet flew by.

“Kie get down!”

Kiara ignored John B’s plea and threw the net behind the boat. A loud noise could be heard as it wrapped within the prop of the boat behind them. It slowed to a stop. Angry shouts of the two men could be heard as another shot flew after them. The Pogues drove to safety.

Back at the Chateau, John B grabbed the mystery bag and plopped it onto the dock. Y/N was still shaken up by the recent events, opting to be silent. JJ helped her off the boat in her shaken state.

“What do you think is in it?”

“Gotta be money right?”

“Can we please just open the bag!” Pope ushered. “You guys are literally killing me with anticipation.”

John B opened the bag to take out another bag. He opened the drawstrings to reveal a metal cylinder. Y/N watched with eager eyes behind JJ. She hoped her efforts weren’t for nothing.

John B unscrewed the end of the cylinder and dipped it upside down into his hand. A compass fell into his palm. He froze.

“Oh, great job everyone! We found a compass.” Pope stated sarcastically. JJ looked disappointed.

“Sorry Y/N, looks like you almost drowned for a stupid compass that’s not worth anything.”

Y/N frowned while John B laughed.

“This was my father’s.”

Any feedback appreciated. :) Let me know if I should continue! <3

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aloneinthehellfire · 2 years

Text

Chapter 14: Part 1: Billy

Season One | Season Two | Season Three

[Raining Hellfire Season Three]

Word Count: 2072 words

Warnings: swearing, attacked, mentions of blood, illusions to drowning, traumatic flashbacks, visions, general sadness can't lie

[A/N: Literally one of my favourite chapters I've ever written, plus some reader x billy backstory. Merry Christmas Eve to anyone that celebrates it! can't believe i'm posting this at a time that's meant to be happy but i got seasonal depression so gotta spread that joy haha]

Billy

Billy limps towards you and you have no other choice but to run.

“GO!” You scream at Max, Mike and El. They don’t need to be told twice.

They start running back through the loading dock, desperately pulling open a door. Max runs to a panel on the wall and slams her hand down on a button and the gates start to close as soon as you run through.

“What’s wrong with him?” She asks, her wide eyes tearing as they stared at the figure limping with determination towards her.

“It’s not him.” Your voice quivers as you push her behind you and towards the doors Mike and El disappeared through.

You both slammed the double doors shut behind you, joining the other two as you pant.

“Did the gates close in time?” Mike asks you.

You go to answer when suddenly the doors in front of you are ripped apart with ease and Billy steps through.

The kids all gasp and you protectively step out in front of them. Your breath stopped once you saw him. Billy’s chest began bulging with dark veins, the black lines spreading across to his arms and face. You almost cried. That wasn’t Billy. That wasn’t your Billy.

“Run!” You scream, pushing the others through the service hallways.

You all rush through the hallways, the overhead lights flickering as Mike points to the end of the hallway.

“In here, in here.” He pants, pushing the elevator button.

But it doesn’t close in time.

Billy bursts through another door, glaring at your sister.

“You can’t have her!” You scream, pulling Max behind you.

Billy stops. He closes his eyes, his shoulders relaxing. When he opens them again, he rolls his neck, taking a breath. His eyes shift to El.

You frown just as Billy walks towards you all, his limp suddenly vanished as he snarled at El.

“Billy.” Max pleads, stepping out from behind you. You try to pull her back but she shakes you off. “Billy, you don’t have to do this. Billy. Your name’s Billy, Billy Hargrove. You live on four-eight-one-nine Cherry lane.”

Her cries don’t slow him down as he gets closer.

“Billy, please, I’m Max, I’m your-”

Billy suddenly lunges forward and gives Max a backhand, sending her to the floor.

“NO!” You yell.

Mike charges after Billy, trying to land a punch. Instead, Billy grabs Mike and throws him against the wall. The boy falls to the ground unconscious, blood pouring from his nose.

Your breath starts to become irregular, struggling to inhale oxygen. This shouldn’t be happening.

El steps out in front of you, raising her arm to use her powers. But nothing happens. You yell out but Billy grabs her, tossing her across the room and knocking her out.

His head turns menacingly towards you, dead eyes staring into your soul.

“He says it’s time.” Billy announces and you choke back tears. You had never felt more useless. The children you adored were all out cold and bleeding, all because of you.

“What did you do to Billy?” You sob, unable to recognise the boy you met in California.

“No, Y/n…” He stepped forward, his voice warping into the figure of your nightmares, “What did you do to Billy?”

As guilt flooded your senses, a bone chilling cold ran down your spine. You step back, shaking your head. You kept stumbling backwards until you turned around and, suddenly…

...you weren’t in Hawkins anymore.

You weren’t in the Upside Down either.

“Y/n?”

Max called for you and you turn around to see a 5 year old girl goofily staring up at you.

“Max?” You furrow your brows as she runs away giggling, looking around the space.

Small picture frames lined the wallpapered hallway, a few rare happy photos of childhood. But they weren’t your photos.

“Y/n, hey!” Someone runs up to you from behind, laughing as you jump in surprise. “Woah, calm down, it’s just me.”

Your breath hitches when you turn around, your heart jumping. In front of you stood an 11 year old boy, much shorter than he would grow to be. His curly hair was cut perfectly beneath his yellow hat but his shirt had come untucked from his trousers. His eyes looked a little red, like he had been crying.

“You okay?” The boy laughed, “Come on, my mom wants us to go to the beach today!”

And just like that, he jogged down the hallway and opened a door with a stained glass window you didn’t recognise. He stood in front of it as it opened and your eyes widened when you saw what was on the other side.

“Wait! No!” You yell, running after him as he slipped through the door. “Billy!”

You stumbled through the doorway, a familiar feeling of falling as everything changed around you. The bright happy colours turned dark, pictures burning as a few choked sobs echoed around you.

And then, just like that, you were in Billy’s room. Just like you were five years ago.

“Billy?”

You stare at the 14 year old boy currently sat on the edge of the bed, head in hands as his shoulders shook. Photos of his mother were torn apart in front of him, scattered across the ground. Your breath hitches. You remember this night.

“Go away.” He murmured, shaking his head.

“What is happening?” You whisper, eyes drawn to the photo of you currently stuck to his mirror.

“He hurt her.” Billy sniffled, voice low as he stared at you through the mirror. “He hurt her and now she’s gone.”

The night his mother left had been the hardest part of Billy’s childhood. It started the war within himself, constantly fighting to feel like he should have a place in this world. His mother was the only one in the house that ever cared for him, that felt proud of him. But it all got too much for her. And he blamed himself for it.

He suddenly sprung from the bed, walking over to you.

“This is your fault.” He whispered and you turn, face dropping. He never said that.

But the 14 year old boy wasn’t standing in front of you now. It was Billy, present day, staring at you with hollow eyes.

“No, I- I didn’t do anything.” You say quietly, backing away.

“But you did. You hurt her.”

“Your- what? I never hurt your mom, Billy.” You shake your head in confusion.

The mirror behind you started to swirl your reflection. You stare back, mesmerised and terrified. You watched as your figure changed, height shortening as your clothes turned into a party dress, makeup smeared across your face.

You frown.

“What-” You turn back to Billy, but it wasn’t him stood in front of you anymore.

Your eyes spilled over with tears, frozen in place.

“Are you even listening to me? I said… give me back my drink.”

She stared at you, voice slurring. No.

You shake your head and do what you should have done that night. You ran.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Billy growled, blocking your path.

You go to speak but every thought is interrupted when he grabs hold of your shoulders and pushes you into the pool. You let out a silent scream, splashing into the water as you slowly sunk deeper and deeper and deeper…

As you drown, something in the water catches your eye. Below you was a black abyss, a force pulling you down with it. But, to your left, there was a small glimmer of light. You try and swim towards it, hand reaching out and as your finger brushed against it...

“Y/n?”

You open your eyes, blinking against the light above you. Slowly sitting up, you look down to see you back in your normal clothes, nothing damp.

“Y/n? Is that you?”

Billy crouched in front of you, eyebrows furrowed. You blink, wondering if you had died and somehow made it to the afterlife. But the light slowly fades and you look around at the dark blue road you sat in the middle of, vines decorating the plane as red streaks poisoned the sky.

“Where am I?” You shake your head, slowly moving away from Billy.

“Woah, woah, wait.” He pleads as you stand, looking for an escape further away from him. “Y/n, just- Please don’t leave me.”

You stop, looking back at him. Billy looked the same as he always did, his curly-haired mullet reaching his shoulders, brushing against his black leather jacket. You cautiously move closer, noticing the tearful glint in his eyes. The blood running from his forehead.

Your breath hitches as you realise.

“Billy?” Your voice breaks and his shoulders slump in relief.

“Yeah, yes. Oh, god, I- I don’t know what happened, I…” His voice trails off as he looks around again, confusion laced with terror.

“What do you remember?” You ask, taking another step towards him, still mindful that he could be playing tricks on you.

“I was… I was hit by something.” He shakes his head, “My car…”

“The windscreen was broken.” You remind him and he nods furiously.

“Yeah. Yeah, it… I got out my car and-” His eyes widen as he stumbles back, shaking his head while muttering under his breath.

“What? Billy?” You close the space now, taking hold of his shoulders, “Billy, what happened?”

His eyes focused on yours as a tear escaped his eye. “It dragged me in there. It got me, Y/n.”

You choke back your tears as you watch Billy fall apart from the memory.

“I- I tried calling for help. I… I was gonna call you.” He closes his eyes, “But I was too late. I was here, wherever the hell this is and- and I saw…”

“Saw what?”

“Me.” He looks back at you, “I saw me. He said... he wanted me to build.”

You shake your head in confusion. “Build? Build what?”

“I don’t know.” His cheeks are stained in tears. “I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

He folds into your arms, holding on for dear life. You hug him back, sobbing.

“I’m not gonna make it, am I?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, shaking your head. “I don’t think so.”

He pulls back from you, pushing the hair out of your face. “I’m so sorry, Y/n.”

“No, Billy-”

“I am.” He nods, kissing your forehead, “You were the only person who ever cared about me. I screwed it up, I know I did. You were my best friend.”

“I’m still your friend, Billy. I- I’ll get you out. I’ll find a way-”

“Call me a pessimist but I don’t see that happening.” He laughs sadly. “I feel it. Everything that’s happening to me. Everything I’m doing. I know how it ends. You need to stop me.”

“I can’t.” You cry, holding onto him.

“Yeah you can, Mayfield.” He smirks despite the dread he must be feeling, “If anyone can, it’s you.”

“I miss you.” You whisper and he tightens his lips, lowering his head. “Sometimes... I just want to go back to middle school. Just you and me.”

“And that stupid pet snail you had.” He laughed and one escapes your lips.

“You fought for that stupid snail when my bully tried to squish it.” You remind him and he stares into your eyes, a smile lingering on his lips.

“I’d do anything for you.” He suddenly frowns, stepping away from your touch. “You need to stop me, Y/n.”

“What if I can’t?” You step closer again, “It- It’s not you, Billy. I can’t reach you.”

“You just did.”

Suddenly, the sky behind him starts fading to black, trees in the distance vanishing to dust. You were waking up.

“Please.” He looks at you one last time, “Don’t let me hurt anyone else. Promise me.”

You cry again, the dust getting closer. You swallow your tears, looking back at him.

“I promise.”

You gasp for air, crashing to the floor. You look to see Max slowly opening her eyes, focusing on Mike before shifting her gaze to you.

“Y/n? What-”

“I need to stop Billy.” You say, a determination in your face that made your sister hold her breath.

“Do what you need to do.” She nods, looking back at Mike.

“Take care of him.” You say, scrambling up and running out of the room.

You were going to keep your promise.

Chapter 14: Part 2: The Battle Of Starcourt ->

taglist: @gnnnne / @beepisbeep / @paintballkid711/ @eddiesbirdie/ @livasaurasrex/ @darktimelegends / @jackierose902109 / @mvrylee / @chervbs/ @eternallyvenus / @nervouscatsuit / @f1nn-wolfhard / @hereiamhereigo / @ladybug0095 / @fangirling-4-ever / @astrolockley

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monty-glasses-roxy · 7 months

Note

Do you have any evidence of Roxy playing with the plushes in her room? Mostly because I would like to see it

Okay so I don't have like. The most concrete evidence in the world here, I'm mostly just looking at the environment and thinking about what it says about the characters and stuff. With that said, I'm also not the only one that noticed this (can't remember where I've seen people mention it before but I know I've seen this around a few times in fics and posts and stuff) so I dunno take this as you will

The idea Roxy plays with her plushies comes maingly from how the plushies in her room are arranged and a little from how her plushies are in the most random ass places sometimes. I don't know if there's more locations than the ones I'm about to show you because I don't have the game and can't just wander around looking for them, but here's what I know for sure!

First, Roxy's room!

Roxy's room is the only one of all four rooms on Rockstar Row to have the plushies arranged somewhat properly and not just left strewn about the place. Most importantly though, some of them are placed in ways that make it look like they're doing something. Here's the screenshots of all the ones in there:

So there's two sat nicely against the base of the kids motorbike ride, with one looking out the window and one looking towards the vanity table. Then there's one sat at a racing arcade cabinet as if it's playing it. There's two laid on the couch like they're taking a nap or just relaxing. There's one on the table either watching the one playing the game or maybe doing some imaginary other thing. There's another on the table, lying face up with a bunch of wrenches, a little shampoo bottle and a helmet so small it's the perfect size for the plushie next to it. Then you have one plushie driving the go-kart and running over another plushie from behind.

Yeah, the ones on the couch might be a little bit of a stretch, but some of these just kinda make it look like Roxy intentionally put them there to display them or to set a scene up. Like the table could be a pretend parts and services or something, hence why ones lying on its back with all the wrenches and stuff. They all just seem a lot less randomly placed, ya know? I think it's pretty cute ngl!

And then you have the Roxy plushies in weird places! Here are the ones I noticed (again, I don't have the game so these are screenshotted from videos I found):

Gonna quickly explain this one by saying I misremembered it a little bit, but it's still relevant. This random little room in the loading docks area, with nothing but a Sunnydrop poster, a staffbot staring at the door and two wet floor bots, has the Glam Roxy plush collectible in it. Bit of a weird placement given Roxy is literally never in this area to my knowledge and this is typically Chica's territory, so it makes me wonder what the hell it's doing in this werid ass room. An old idea was that Chica was playing with the plushies one day and stuck her in Gay Baby Jail or something.

Though, now I'm looking at it, if Roxy put it there, you could see it as leaving a plush down there to keep these guys company or for them to protect her or somethig? I dunno. A bit sad if she put herself in Gay Baby Jail though lmao but anyway...

This one is located in the Kid's Cove boat! I'm pretty sure that aside from the Golden Sunny plush and regular Moon plushie collectibles, this is the only plushie in Kid's Cove. Which is to say this is the only plushie I noticed that was actually visible. Given the light from the left is from a TV screen playing nothing but static (what's up with that??), this plushie was having a movie night or something. Or someone's living in the Cove. Or Roxy's made herself a secret hideout in the Cove. I dunno, but you see how the little drinks can is within the plushie's reach and all the... maybe sweets near its feet? I dunno whats going on with the shoes and the tiny Roxy mask, maybe there was a dress-up thing going on, who knows? I dunno if this is Cassie's secret hideout and she was playing with a Roxy plushie but regardless! This is a weird ass place for a Roxy plushie when everything else around there is Sunny and Moon themed!

Oh yeah and there's also another itty bitty helmet off screen to the right. Maybe the story is that this Roxy was driving the boat but it sunk or something? I dunno. I'm convinced those tiny helmets are for the plushies or some other toy cause there's a height limit on the go-karts they are not letting babies drive go-karts lmao

These two are in the dressing room style area thing of the Superstar Theatre. There's a good few plushies dotted around here but look! The one on the right is keeping the endo company! :)

Anyway, I don't know where the others are. I know there's a good few of her plushies just fucking everywhere in weird places and someone had to put them there, right? Her room having them all arranged like that is the only reason I would think Roxy's putting her own plushies everywhere though. I just think it's kinda cute that they usually seem very deliberately placed there by someone and given the whole murder scene going on in her room, Roxy seems the most likely culprit lmao

#fnaf security breach #roxanne wolf #pop rox answers #she loves her plushies I think #one of those people that anthropomorphises her plushies so hard but also likes putting them in Situations I guess lmao #its like she's blorbo'd all her mini plush selves or something #to be fair to her the animatronics probably don't get an awful lot of access to playthings #very little enrichment for them ya know? if all she's got in her room is plushies of herself then that's all she's got #with the exception of the funtime foxy plushie behind the tyres of course #anyway I've already established that roxy is probably the most Chronically Bored of all of them #so I think it's fair enough if she wants to play pretend with her plushies like the kids have shown her to do!#you can make it extra sweet if you say that Cassie is the one that really showed her the whole imaginary play thing!#like she'd never thought of it before but Cassie wanted to play pretend so now Roxy does it in her own time for funsies #maybe it helps her process some things she otherwise isn't able to as well #she deserves it!#I still want to know why there's a fucking go-kart in the caravan in Gator Golf though.#like whats up with that #long post

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nysocboy · 4 months

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Gemstones Episode 3.9, Continued: Five plot resolutions and a funeral

The tv taping is interrupted by a swarm of locusts!

Locusts are not unheard-of in South Carolina. In fact, every 13 years, a swarm of the similar cicadas emerges. Ecologists consider them beneficial, since many animals and birds eat them. And they do not sting or bite.

But these are not ordinary locusts. The swarm flies directly through the service entrance and into the tv studio, crashing and smashing everything. They may not sting or bite, but having dozens of buzzing, crawling things splat into your body, hitting your hair and face, must be disorienting and painful. People stumble in every direction, crashing into each other. Some are hit by falling lights and sound equipment. A round image of Baby Billy smashes someone's head.

You can tell who actually cares about their family by who runs away (the Simpkins) and who looks for them (the Gemstones). Jesse saves not only his family, but Eli and Dusty. The Montgomerys and BJ/Judy save each other.

The Kelvin/Keefe rescue is the most dramatic: Looking for Kelvin backstage, Keefe is overcome by the locusts and collapses, coincidentally just behind a girl who has been killed by a falling spotlight. When Kelvin finds him, he yells "Leave!", as in "Save yourself!", but Kelvin spreads his heavy woolen coat over the two of them and yells "I got you!"

Intimacy alert: Keefe holds on to Kelvin's hand and thigh.

Green is Kelvin's preferred color, but the Attico with the long green fringes was chosen deliberately to look like grass. The guys are dead and buried. Keefe has a symbolic death and resurrection in every season, but this is the first for Kelvin. Maybe this is his final expiation, burning away the last of his guilt and shame over being gay.

The family stumbles out onto the loading dock. Everyone else has scattered.

Intimacy alert: Kelvin keeps his arm on Keefe's back to guide him out of the studio.

Femme alert: look at Keefe. Hour glass figure, large pearl necklace. past-shoulder length hair: with a different face, you would mistake him for a lady. This is the second time that he has dressed as a minister's wife. So, Mrs. Lincoln, other than that, how did you like the show?

Resolution 1: Uncle Peter. Uh-oh, one of the locusts has crashed into Peter's fitbit trigger, destroying it, so the van will blow up in one minute. Run away!

Peter jumps into the van and drives it to safety.

Everyone gasps as they see the explosion. He has sacrificed his life to save them, thus earning his redemption.

The Funeral: Cut to Dusty Daniels' funeral, an unspecified amount of time later. Like no other funeral ever, the siblings sit in the front row, and their partners behind, but seated so that we can see them all in one shot.

Femme alert: Again a stereotypic minister's wife, Keefe wears weird feminine rose-colored glasses.

Resolution #2: The System. Remember their long-standing feud? We see BJ and Judy filming a commercial for Amber's marital System, and then the two women have a reconciliation. They're still not best friends, but they vow to get along.

Resolution #3: Smut Busters. Remember Kelvin taking his job at the church back? We cut to the guys waiting for other Smut Busters outside a porno store. Apparently it was re-instated, no doubt with changes: no vandalism or assault, just lawful protest on public property. Keefe relishes the idea of the protest, "Let them know we're watching. Judging their lifestyle." Hey, you were using some of those sex toys, you hypocrite!

Kelvin adds: "What people do in their bedrooms, behind closed doors." Suddenly he sees the connection to what he and Keefe do "behind closed doors."

Keefe frowns, seeing the connection, too.

"Or...we could give this one a miss." They could "live and let live," and find some other way to serve the Lord.

In case you still doubt that they have a sexual relationship, they admit it here. Who still has that doubt? But why don't they come out with the proper terms: "We're gay. People will judge the fucking and sucking we do in the bedroom." Maybe because homophobes object to the actual word "gay" rather than the identity. I've seen several programs where people start sentences like "I'm...." and "I thought you were....", only to be cut off before The Word.

Apparently Kelvin and Keefe are no longer youth ministers, or they couldn't just leave. They would have no choice but to stick around and lead the others. Maybe they are adult volunteers? There must be other adult volunteers, too, to drive the teens to the protest. The Smut Busters may not be a teen project at all, anymore.

So, what new way to serve the Lord will they find? In the HBO photo archive, there are two photos from a cut scene. First, Keefe is at the Gemstone teen center, looking angry, wearing what looks like a Renaissance courtier costume. Next Kelvin, the director of a play, is holding his hand while giving instructions to an actor off stage. Maybe the scene will be re-used, giving the guys a new mission in the theater.

Resolution #4: Pontius: Remember that Jesse promised to enroll Pontius at The Citadel, the South Carolina military college? Cut to him dropping Pontius off. He was rejected by every college he applied to, but The Citadel has a 99% acceptance rate, plus Jesse probably promised to build them a new football stadium.

Resolution #5: Gideon: Remember, Gideon can't do stunt work anymore, but he doesn't want to be Eli's driver forever. What else is there? He's been reading Eli's autobiographies all season, and while they are fishing, he tells Eli, "I want to do what you do." "You want to preach?"

"I think so." Presumably this means that he's off to college, then seminary.

Eli tears up with pride. The end.

The full review is on RG Beefcake and Boyfriends

#the righteous gemstones #kelvin gemstone #keefe chambers #kelvin x keefe #tony cavalero #adam devine #gideon gemstone #Skyler Gisondo

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187days · 10 months

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Day Fifty-Seven

My cacophonous friends and I adopted the new English teacher, Mr. C, even though he is decidedly not cacophonous. He's extremely quiet, and serious, and earnest, and often worried about doing the right thing. And all of that is good, even the worry, to some extent. Teaching is deeply consequential, after all. But I always remind new teachers (and pre-service ones) that they're going to be alright and so will their students.

I actually give good advice when I'm not being a raging goofball, but being a raging goofball is fun, so this morning I went skipping down the hallway before the bell to congratulate everyone for surviving state testing. Mr. C, who'd been super nervous about it, responded to my clapping and exclamations of "Look, you didn't break anything! Or anyone! Woohoo!" with an actual laugh, so that's a win.

After that, I got Mrs. T to open the doors to the loading dock because I had a delivery of supplies (pens, pencils, markers, Lysol wipes, etc...) to distribute to my department. So I was just spreading all kinds of joy this morning.

Then it was time for me to teach my classes!

All of my students had vocab quizzes today. They did super well, so I'm happy about that. My Global Studies students also finished way more quickly than I'd expected, so I hastily adjusted my lesson during my first section to not only include recapping an assignment they'd been working on (about how different belief systems influence various traditions and customs), but also an article about the Buddhist, Confucian, and Taoist influences on martial arts. Reading that out loud together made the timing perfect.

My APGOV students did some MCQ practice after their vocab quizzes, and then, since they have a test next week, we did a bit of test review AMA-style. Once they ran out of questions, we just chatted for the last few minutes of the block.

I'm going to chaperon a Key Club all-nighter tonight, so my day isn't actually over. 2AM dodgeball and pizza await!

#teaching #teachblr #teacher #edublr #education #high school #social studies #the cacophony #Mr. C #key club all nighter #all nighter #so much joy #day fifty seven

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princess-of-the-corner · 2 years

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Okay but, I was trying to figure out Office Games for the Security Offices that didn't get them (aka, Fazerblast and Monty Golf), and it suddenly occurred to me how few of the office scenarios actually match up with the classic Five Nights formula.

To recap canon:

The first office technically isn't an office game, it just unlocks the cameras for you to set up the camera portion of the game's tutorial in the next room.

The first proper Office Game is the Daycare Attendant boss battle. Sun is used to teach the player the Daycare Attendant's mechanics in a low stakes situation, and once the lights go out, the player has to use what they learned sneaking away from Sun to avoid Moon and get the lights back on.

If the player chooses to try and leave through the Fire Escape, Gregory will have to go through the Prize Corner office, where he's cornered by Roxy and Monty, and he has to keep them out of the office until time runs out (not sure what causes them to leave once time is up). This office is the closest to replicating the classic FNaF gameplay formula, as the player has to use the cameras to see which door the Animatronics are heading for.

If the player chooses to try and escape through the Loading Docks, Gregory will get cornered by Chica and have to make a pizza with a remote controlled STAFF bot to distract her.

After 2AM, the third Office Game is the Backstage Office, where Gregory has to use controlled shocks to keep the Glamrocks from breaking in through any of the doors, while also guiding Freddy into the room below the office so he can rescue Gregory. Gregory has to ward off all 3 Glamrock Animatronics. In a twist on the FNaF formula, time is not on Gregory's side, as he has a limited amount of time to escape before Vanny gets to the office and kills him. Additionally, he does not need to use his Fazwatch cameras to know which door to zap, as there are giant display screens to show what's behind each door. (I'll concede that the display screens showing where Freddy is were a necessary evil, but the ones by the doors are a bit too hand-holdy).

After 3AM, Gregory has to stop by the Parts and Service office to get access to where Freddy is. While the Dummied Out Extras Menu implies there was meant to be an Office Game here (Endogeddon), all picking up the Security Badge does is wake up all the Endoskeletons in the room, with no further caveats for leaving.

The Fazerblast office doesn't have an Office Game, but does have a Bonnie Bowl pass.

The Monty Golf Office has both the Faz Cam and a Mazercise pass, but no Office Game.

The Fazcade Office Game has you running around the entire multi-story arcade while avoiding DJ Music Man, culminating in a final chase. It's a beloved boss battle for a reason.

There were assets for an unused Roxy Raceway Office Game in the code, where Gregory would drive a go-kart along the race track and presumably avoid Animatronics (hitting an animatronic with the go-kart results in a unique jumpscare where the animatronic ragdolls and lands on Gregory), and was probably meant to segue into Roxy's boss battle.

The Burntrap Battle might've originally been intended to be an Office Game, as there's a "Pizzasim Office" option in the unused Extras Menu, and the Burntrap Battle is set in the same pizzeria as the one from Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria Simulator.

I don't know what point I was trying to make, but uh...

Kinda interesting having it all laid out like that, I guess?

So I know all this was set up for like. Gameplay.

But much like everything else in Security Breach, it's hilarious to imagine the regular staff dealing with it.

Vanessa, slapping buttons around: "What demented bastards decided that our security offices function on goddamn minigames?????"

Charlie and Michael: ".............."

#fnaf au

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writing-on-the-spacewall · 2 years

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my text for @flashfictionfridayofficial's prompt, "sea and and sun"! (yes this is the first post on this blog also)

Excerpts from “Voyage of the Hillfox from Icemeet to Perlshaw, Captain Derya Aki’s Log”

Day 1

Under my observation, local harbor workers loaded the goods onto our vessel. A copy of the cargo manifest will be attached to the end of this log. Departed at a delay of three hours (through no fault of our own) and will try to make up for the time lost and arrive within the scheduled time of six weeks. Sky is clear, for now, but sailors in Icemeet warn of a storm further south.

Day 2

A group of seagulls landed on the ship and harassed crew working on-deck during the hours 10:20-13:43. No delay was caused. The seagulls were eventually scared away by the ship’s postal parrot. Sky is growing cloudy, and the waves were stronger than the day before.

Day 3

Awoke today to find the pantry’s doors opened, and a small amount of food missing. Lawrence suspects rats. I suspect Lawrence. Ship’s cat was encouraged to hunt the pests down, if any are on board, and a scan of the cargo reveals it was not touched. Light rainfall between the hours 14:35 and 16:15.

Day 4

More food is missing today. Still no harm to cargo, but crew members report hearing creaking and whispering at night. Lawrence volunteered to stand guard at night. Valentine was requested to stand guard at night. The storm is heavier now, and all crew were provided with raincoats.

Day 5

Food has, once again, went missing. In total, the amount of food taken is still not enough to put us in any actual shortage, but concern from the crew is evident. Valentine reports seeing nothing, but I suspect she is lying. Ship nearly capsized twice today, and weather is showing no signs of improving.

Day 6

The cause for the disappearance of food has been found. A child has found their way to the Hillfox before our departure and managed to stay hidden until today. Valentine admitted to lying on the child’s behalf. As of now, the stowaway refuses to speak with any of us, though they accepted a children’s book I was carrying with me when offered. The weather is largely unchanged.

Day 7

The child has been identified as Ennir Paine. He claims no one will search for him, though we have no way to confirm this. With my permission, he was allowed to assist with standard activities today. The sky still refuses to clear up.

Day 36

At Ennir’s personal request, the ship’s parrot was sent ahead with messages for Perlshaw’s welfare services (as well as a message for them to forward to Icemeet’s welfare) and to my parents’ home. The storm is far behind us now, but it is still cloudy.

Day 42

Passenger has been reidentified as Ennir Aki. Docked at port in late afternoon. The cargo has been unloaded and moved to the client’s storage unit in the port. Freight has been paid and will arrive with the ship’s log. Ennir asked that I send his regards to anyone reading this. No clouds in the sky today. Nothing but sea and sun.

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angelofrainfrogs · 1 year

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Spend the Night: Ch. 5

~Coauthored by @zeitghest~

Fandom(s): Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach

Description: The familiar melody of Grandfather’s Clock chimes through the echoing halls of the Pizzaplex…

Charlie wakes up in her Puppet’s vessel yet again with one goal in mind: to stop William Afton’s reign of terror for good. She enlists the help of Glamrock Freddy, the emphatic leader of the newest iteration of the Fazbear Band. But there seems to be more to this bear than meets the eye—and the same goes for the mysteriously familiar kid the duo find tinkering with animatronics down in Parts & Service.

With some help from friends new and old, Charlie’s journey into the bowels of the Pizzaplex will unravel mysteries none of them ever expected.

Rating: T

Lights flicker, and the shadows crawl

I wear the face of my enemy as I

Hide behind the mask, hide behind the mask

Wait for the demons to travel by Just don't breathe and tremble as I

Pray behind the mask, pray behind the mask

~Behind the Mask by SlyphStorm, TIFWhitney~

Freddy stared ahead, blinking rapidly as he scanned his map for the location of the nearest security office. After a moment, he gave a little nod and refocused on the pair next to him.

“I have identified two paths that should get us to security offices which will give us higher access badges,” Freddy said. “One is down by the kitchens, near the loading dock on the first floor. The other is by the third floor Prize Counter. Hmm... I suggest we go to the Prize Counter first.”

Just from a quick look, it seemed like this route would be the best one that all three of them could travel through with their Level 1 access card. The last thing Freddy wanted was to get separated from Gregory and Charlie... What if a door was locked and they had to crawl through a place he couldn't fit through, like a—

“Stop... no vents. Don't even THINK about vents.”

Freddy swore he sensed the voice shivering, only adding to his concern that this entity was something quite different than he’d initially imagined. The bear flinched, resisting the urge to tell it to be quiet—he didn't want Charlie and Gregory to worry about him malfunctioning, too.

“Good thinking,” Charlie agreed, flopping to the ground besides the door.

Who needed three whole floors of this place, anyway? Charlie wondered, though she welcomed the opportunity for a change of scenery. She was already sick of the first floor.

At Freddy’s visible flinching he caught a deep, knowing stare from Puppet, her gaze lingering before she scooted closer to Gregory. She was wary of the way he was acting, but didn’t say anything yet. It would be something to speak on while Gregory was safe and out of earshot.

“I bet we could find all sort of neat things at the prize counter!” she remarked cheerfully, needing a subject change.

“Oh, yes!” Freddy replied just as brightly. That stare from Charlie said it all—she knew something was up. Freddy was just thankful she didn’t want to bring it up in front of Gregory either; the boy had enough worries.

“They have dozens and dozens of rewards to choose from,” Freddy continued. “And plushies of every character from the Fazbear Entertainment franchise you can imagine!” He turned his smile on the boy, ruffling his hair again. “Perhaps you can pick one out before we leave, Gregory.”

A plushie wasn’t much compensation for all the terror the poor kid was experiencing that night, but maybe it would help ease his nerves a little bit to have something to hold onto besides an animatronic.

“Yeah,” Gregory agreed, finally relaxing with his back against the elevator walls. With all the tussling of his hair, he was surprised it wasn’t standing straight up. If anything, Gregory would get another Freddy—even if he knew it wouldn’t protect him like the real Freddy or Puppet did. “They better have an extra Freddy plush at the counter...”

Charlie rested besides Gregory, hands folded in her lap as the smooth lift took them to their destination. “There’s going to be lots of toys and snacks, don’t you worry.”

The bear’s smile softened. Regardless of the circumstances, it always warmed his mechanical heart when he was a child’s preferred animatronic.

“Yes, some food and water would be good as well,” he added, nodding gratefully at Puppet for her suggestion. Who knew the last time Gregory had eaten something? Honestly, Freddy was surprised the kid hadn’t run out of energy already—it was surely way after his bedtime, after all.

Soon the elevator doors opened on the third floor, right in front of the massive Prize Counter. Freddy poked his head out, looking around cautiously, and upon seeing no Glamrocks ushered the pair out into the main atrium.

“Be careful of the security bots,” Freddy murmured, pointing to one such robot wandering in a set pattern. “I do not know if they are infected with this virus, but it would be best to stay out of their way. Now—oh no…”

The bear groaned as he tried to open the metal gates to the Prize Counter, only to find them shut tight. He used a bit more strength, but unfortunately the doors held strong. He looked around for a moment, trying to find another route, and to his relief he spotted one garage door that hadn’t been fully closed before night shift. He looked down at Gregory and Charlie, giving a reassuring smile. “The main entrance to the Prize Counter is locked from the inside. However, there is another way to get in through El Chips and the East Arcade.”

Charlie and Gregory stood side by side as they took in their shared surroundings. Near the closed-off Prize Counter, the bright, neon greens and yellows of El Chips Fiesta Buffet shined over them all.

“Arcade?” Gregory perked up, mindful of any wandering security bots as he beheld the behemoth gaming spot—a place any preteen boy would gladly live inside of for the rest of their lives if given the chance.

“Remember, Gregory—” Charlie reminded him. “—we’re here to get the access passes. We can play video games later.”

“We can, however, get some food—we will need to walk through a restaurant anyway,” Freddy pointed out. “Come on; let us go.”

He gestured for the pair to follow him to El Chips. Luckily, this partially-cracked door was easy to raise up enough for Freddy to fit through with a bit of finagling. There was one lone bot mopping the floor, which Freddy ignored as he took the Gregory and Charlie to a fridge filled with prepackaged sandwiches and drinks for guests that didn’t feel like partaking in the usual Mexican fare El Chips had to offer.

“Here, superstar—what would you like?” Freddy asked, gently lifting Gregory up under the shoulders so he could clearly see all the options in the fridge. “We can grab something and take it to the security office to eat.”

Gregory’s mouth watered at the prospect of food, totally unbothered now with being toted everywhere by these strong robots. The grilled chicken sandwich stuck out and he silently reached for it. He didn’t stop there, since towards the bottom shelf were desserts—individually packaged cupcakes, the classic pink frosting with candy eyes were practically begging for Gregory to eat it. He snatched one up fast, as if someone was going to steal it from him.

Unaware of Gregory’s concerning hunger, Charlie dug into a retail cooler.

“Do you want a Fizzy Faz?” she asked, grasping for the popular Monty flavor.

“Fizzy Faz?” The soft British voice spoke in a scathing manner, startling Freddy with its reappearance. However, the only outward reaction the bear showed was a slight widening of his eyes. “They even have their own brand of soda now? God, what doesn’t this company make?”

“Yes, let us get a drink, too,” Freddy replied aloud, setting Gregory back down once he gathered everything he wanted from the fridge. He'd noticed the speed at which Gregory snatched the food, but he couldn't afford to dwell on this now—surely he was just super hungry from running around. Freddy then grabbed a few plastic takeout bags from a shelf, stacking them within the other to provide extra protection from the condensation. The reason for this was clear when the bear gathered up all the food and drink and placed it in the bags, which he then set in his chest cavity with a grin.

“There; now everything will be safe and out of the way until we get to the office.” He wanted to make sure they had all limbs free in order to grab Gregory or fight off pursuing animatronics if needed. Seeing Freddy fill his chest as their new snack cabinet, Charlie let out an approving exclamation.

“Ooh, good idea! Man, I wished they had these at the diner.” Charlie sighed as she turned one of the cans over in her lanky hands. What she’d give to taste a grape soda again… Still, she recalled the fountain drinks and milkshakes well enough to be satisfied through memory.

Gregory really wished he could eat that chicken sandwich right that second… But he’d waited about a week to eat something other than pizza. He could wait a few more minutes. His mind was so consumed with food, he jumped a little as Charlie asked him a question.

“Ready to head for the arcade, Gregory?”

“Ready!” He returned back to the protective robots’ sides eagerly. Even if they didn’t have time to play, it was nice to peruse the games and see if there were any new ones.

“Keep an eye out,” Freddy warned. “The arcades usually have a number of security bots on patrol because they are so huge. If one spots you, hide—they will lose interest within a few seconds of an 'intruder' being out of sight.”

Usually the bots connected directly to the security guards to alert them to trespassers, but since the network was down Freddy had little fear of them actually alerting Vanessa. Even if Gregory was spotted, he doubted anyone would be summoned to catch him.

True to his word, as soon as they stepped into the arcade they could see quite a few bots roaming around. Even though it was closed for the night, the ambient sounds and lights from the game consoles meant that the room still felt like it was bustling with life. Unfortunately, the downside to this was that the chaotic, clashing noises interfered with Freddy's advanced robotic hearing. At least his vision wasn't affected, so he could still keep watch for danger. Their goal was on the complete other end of the arcade, so Freddy cautiously began to make his way towards that direction, on the lookout for anything amiss.

Charlie walked alongside Gregory, glancing around. Perhaps both she and Freddy worked on navigating the room too much—as their sight turned from Gregory, the kid had been distracted easily by the bright lights and midi sounds around them. One game caught his eye in particular.

As the animatronics paused and waited for a security bot to pass, Gregory absently backtracked for the arcade machine. Before him in the dark corner where no security trailed sat a video game called Princess Quest. Gregory reached into his pocket, gaze fixed on the untouched and rather dusty console as he fished out a quarter. Not just any quarter, though—this special quarter had been drilled into at one side. A thin strand of fishing lure with a sturdy knot at its end tied the coin to Gregory’s finger. Perfect to trick the machine into thinking he had deposited its credits. Without hesitation Gregory began to play, so entranced by the game it was as if he’d momentarily forgotten the danger around him.

***

The walk through the arcade was going surprisingly well. They hadn't been spotted by any security bots, nor could Freddy see any wayward animatronics coming after them. For once, things seemed to be going as planned! Maybe they'd even make it before—

“...Where's the kid?” the voice cut into Freddy's reverie, a slight hint of panic in its tone. “Oh, for fuck's sake—ugh, I still can't move this thing! Freddy, turn your damn head around and LOOK! Where. Is. Gregory?!”

“Where is...?” Freddy actually responded aloud, doing as the voice said. His head swiveled rapidly, trying to spot the boy who'd been by his side moments before. “Oh no—Charlie, do you see Gregory?!”

“He’s right here—” Charlie went to soothe, reaching for the boy’s hand… only for her fingers to grasp nothing but air. Raising her arms and touching the back of her head in panic, she spun around and searched the visible parts of the room.

“Gregory?! Gregory!” she called fervently, spinning in place once, twice. After a second, she pointed to the opposite end of the arcade. “You look that way, I’ll check over here! He couldn’t have gone far…”

Freddy nodded, retracing their path and paying no mind to the security bots as he went. One actually ran into his side, but Freddy simply pushed it away with barely any acknowledgement and it returned to its preset path an instant later.

***

This game was weird.

It felt broken—glitchy even. Gregory’s character, the titular Princess, was bopping around the little puzzle rooms sometimes as if it were trying to escape the game itself while avoiding the weird purple junk. Gregory could see why it was hardly touched. While charming, the game was very broken.

Still, he was almost done, and wanted to see how it ended.

***

“You seriously let him get away here, of all places?!” the voice chided as Freddy walked. “An arcade? Do you know how easily distracted kids get?! What if he's wrapped up in a game and something—”

“Will you stop talking?!” Freddy hissed, finally able to speak directly to the voice now that no one but the security bots were around to hear him. The bear gave a frustrated huff, trying to keep focused. “This false anxiety is not helping! Or... whatever this is.”

He trailed off, not wanting to lose his concentration at the task at hand. This virus in his head was certainly a weird one—why it simulated feelings of panic, Freddy had no idea. Right now, all he wanted it to do was be quiet.

“...Sorry,” the voice mumbled after a moment. “This is weird for me, too—trust me.”

“There is no 'you'—you are simply a piece of errant coding that I will be very happy to get rid of soon!” Freddy snapped back, not in the mood for whatever mind games this thing was designed to play. He was about to lecture some more when he spotted a distinct flash of blue fabric nearly hidden in a dark corner of the arcade. Freddy turned and made a beeline for the boy, calling out to him. “Gregory!”

How could the game just end like that? Does she never escape the tower? That purple, inky drip simply catches up to her?

And that scream at the end… It sent chills up Gregory’s spine. That wasn’t a regular midi file—that was a legit shrieking girl.

At the sound of Freddy’s concerned call, Gregory turned and waved to his bear protector.

“Freddy! Look, I beat Princess Quest!” he mentioned excitedly, even if just to forget the morbid ending. Gregory felt like it didn’t send the best message to kids—that they’ll always be trapped, no matter how hard they try to escape.

Within seconds Gregory was picked up yet again, cradled in Freddy's arms as the bear held him tightly. Freddy didn't want to admit it, but whatever this thing in his head was that simulated panic was starting to get to him. Something about the thought of losing Gregory was just... incomprehensible.

“Please do not ever run off like that again without telling Charlie or me, alright?” Freddy said, pulling back to look him in the face.

“God—he looks so much like him...” There was a definite catch in the voice this time, as if it were fighting back a sudden wave of tears. To Freddy's horror, even though he couldn't cry he swore he felt the sensation of wanting to. The bear shook his head, chasing away the feeling and refocusing on Gregory.

“Do you understand?” he asked again, needing the boy to realize the severity of the situation they were in.

Oh… Gregory knew that look. That was the shame-filled disappointment and fear-fueled glare of a caretaker who’d been worried for no good reason. Gregory must've put Freddy under high duress to be given a stare like that. Wiping under his nose, Gregory got the point.

“Sorry, Freddy… I just never noticed that game before. I should’ve told you I wanted to check it out,” he apologized.

Freddy simply stared at him for a moment, taking in Gregory's guilty expression before letting out a small sigh and pulling him in for another hug. This embrace was much less desperate and far more comforting.

“I am not upset with you; I was just worried,” he explained, giving the boy a soft smile. He glanced around the arcade, realizing that Charlie must be at the complete opposite end. Indeed, if he squinted Freddy could see a long, thin shape scaling the Prize Counter itself. In the high netting near the ceiling among various large-scale plushies and toys, she was scanning for their wayward friend. Freddy began walking towards her, Gregory now settled against his hip.

This time, Gregory even hugged him back. It was a tight squeeze that encompassed one of Freddy’s shoulder pads and right around his neck joint. Being carried around was turning out to be a major plus for the kid—while he was fast, standing for too long was starting to make him dizzy from the lack of regular meals this past week.

“So you beat a game you have never played before? Good job, superstar!” Freddy praised as they walked. He tilted his head curiously, recalling the name Gregory mentioned. “I have never heard of Princess Quest, either; it is not registered in my databank of arcade consoles at the Pizzaplex. Perhaps it was recently installed and my system has not been upgraded with that information.”

“Yeah!” the kid bragged as they weaved through the bulky arcade boxes. “It was so weird. You play this little yellow princess, and I think she dies at the end? Or gets trapped in a castle forever… I’m not sure. These little shadowy bunnies try to bite you throughout the game, too—”

“Hey!” Charlie hissed in relieved surprise as the pair approached. “Where the heck did you go, Gregory?” Charlie plucked a small Glamrock Freddy plush from its top shelf perch, holding onto it as she descended before Gregory and the aforementioned bear.

“There’s a new video game I had to play…,” Gregory explained for a second, equally shameful time.

Freddy was... strangely quiet. He wasn't quite frozen, although his eyes were definitely delayed as they tracked Charlie crawling down to ground level. He felt like his consciousness was being sort of pulled away, the increasingly-familiar feeling of dread rising like a wave. Freddy knew it was because of that voice, which was currently murmuring a string of unintelligible curses in his ear with increasing alarm.

“Stop...,” the bear whispered, so quietly it was barely audible. He couldn't bring himself to move, though he wanted to set Gregory down. He didn't feel like he was going to hurt the boy—he'd never do that—but his lack of control over his own body scared him. Nothing happened for a few agonizing seconds, until the voice finally responded.

“Oh shit, sorry, I... I don't know why I'm freaking out, um...” The voice took an audible breath, as if trying to calm itself. “I, uh... I don't like shadow bunnies. Or... bunnies in general, really. Haven't thought about them in a while, so I was... taken off-guard. Sorry. I-I'll try and relax.”

“Thank you,” Freddy responded. Then his eyes widened as he realized he'd said that aloud, which to Gregory and Charlie seemed completely unprompted. Quickly, he tried to cover up his slip. “Ah, thank you, Charlie, for helping search! And for the plushie—look, Gregory, it is just the one you wanted, right?”

“Right on! This is exactly what I wanted!” Gregory rejoiced as he squeezed the high-quality prize in his arms. Charlie in the meantime scanned over Freddy’s face, scratching her mask.

Gregory may have been easily tricked, but Charlie wouldn’t be fooled by such a clear fumble. She was fine handing off the plush to the boy, who easily snatched it up and cuddled it in his arms. Despite Charlie’s worry for Freddy, the last thing she expected from the kind-hearted bear was violence. No, she suspected something very different was going on—and unfortunately, something also very familiar.

“No problem, really… You’re okay, right, Freddy?” Charlie asked. No accusations in her tone of voice, only honest concern for a friend.

“Perfectly fine,” Freddy replied, surprised at how easily the lie slipped off his tongue. Maybe that was the work of the virus, too...

Charlie accepted his answer. Freddy hadn’t lied to her before—she didn’t think he could lie, actually. Something was clearly wrong, but maybe Freddy he didn’t even know it yet? It never ended well if she pushed such things, anyway. For now, Charlie would keep an eye on him and wait.

“Now, the security office should be just through that door over there.” Freddy inclined his head towards said door, which was behind the Prize Counter. According to his map, it led to a set of back passageways that would take them directly to the office. Shifting Gregory to one arm so he had a limb free, Freddy moved to the door and turned the knob.

...Well, he tried to. And then he tried again. And again. To his utter frustration, this door was locked as well.

“We must find another way in—I cannot get through.” The bear gave a heavy sigh, looking around for any other path they could use.

And then he saw it—down by the floor, a metal grate with questionable stability marking the opening.

The vents.

“Oh, Gregory and I can enter the air duct! Then we’ll let you in, Freddy,” Charlie suggested, following the bear's line of sight. Gregory would be safe with her. Not that she was suspicious of Freddy’s intentions, she was just worried the supernatural “glitches” may slow his decision-making skills. She reached for Gregory who stretched his hands out towards her, moving almost on instinct by this point as he was transferred from one caretaker to the next.

“No!”

The shout that came out of Freddy was sudden and very, very wrong. The bear's eyes widened and he pressed a paw over his mouth while his other hand gripped onto Gregory tightly. So much for “relaxing”—the virus had actually managed to take over his voice box in its sudden ferocity to communicate. And to Freddy's dismay, it was still trying to do so.

What happened next would be almost comical if the situation surrounding it wasn't so frightening: Freddy began arguing with himself, speaking in two distinct voices, the second one sounding quite strange to be coming out of the normally mild-tempered robot.

“Don't go in the vent—!”

“No, that is a very logical plan. Charlie, please, take Gregory and—”

“Charlie, do NOT, I swear to god—”

“Yes, go!” Freddy clenched his teeth, doing his best to regain control. “Just go and get Gregory to the office—come back for me once he is safe, and I—”

“You don't know what's in there!” The voice was frantic, panic actually showing on Freddy's face now, his usually-friendly expression twisted into one of abject terror for his friends. If one looked closely, there was a hint of something real and terrified behind the animatronic's bright, blue eyes. “Please—you... you don't know what could happen...”

Gregory suddenly wasn’t very comfortable being in Freddy’s arms… But moving wasn’t a great idea as long as whatever was fighting to gain control inside of him waged war within Freddy’s mind.

What was trying to use Freddy to speak? Was it worth listening to? The boy certainly hadn’t the faintest idea.

But that voice? Charlie knew that voice. Wordlessly, she stood tall and watched Freddy argue before the so-called “virus” took command of the vessel to plead with them.

“No way… Michael?!” she asked, soft with pure disbelief. She reached forward, long fingers brushing the sides of Freddy’s head as she analyzed his face, those pinprick, silver dots in her mask staring deep into the soul underneath the metallic mask.

After a moment, Charlie let out a gentle laugh. “What took you so long, buddy?”

***

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