#luckily everyone is safe but it’s been a rough 48 hours

[notsocooljess]

due to hurricane helene, western north carolina has experienced record flooding from a near-failure of an essential dam. this has devastated local real estate and wildlife, completely destroying many homes and businesses. experts are saying had the dam collapsed, this storm could have been as disastrous as hurricane katrina.

western NC makes up southern appalachia and is comprised of mountain towns. these are largely under-serviced areas in need of more funding. their infrastructure was not prepared for a storm of this severity.

i’m mentioning this here because we are all huge fans of a the hunger games series that takes place in this area, and these people really need help. even the location where district 12 was filmed for the movies is in asheville, NC, which is currently without phone service and in great need of funding for repairs and supplies.

more than these areas have been affected. i found a few resources with verified donation links for victims of hurricane helene. please feel free to add more as you see them. this storm has already had devastating consequences, and there will likely be more to come.

links:

[littlesliceofmarvel]

The Truth

Request/Synopsis: You’re Tony’s sister and Bucky’s girlfriend, and you eventually find out the truth about your parents’ death.

Warnings: Swearing (ofc), mentions of death

Pairings: Stark!Reader x Bucky

Word Count: 3,001

A/N: Gosh, sorry I’m slow at getting these out. I’m really trying my best but I’m barely using my laptop so my writing is slower, I’m sorry! There will probably be a part 2 to this! As always, gif isn’t mine and my inbox is always open! Enjoy. x

-

Being a Stark was one of the hardest things you could have had to experience. It was tough, the world was constantly keeping a watchful eye on you and your brother, spying on your every move as if you guys were some sort of ticking time bomb. It pissed you off - it really did.

Growing up without your parents, Tony made sure to keep you away from all the negativities that scattered the world. He became Iron Man to protect you - to keep you safe from the people that your father had either pissed off or pleased. Either way, people were always breathing down your neck every second of the day. Eventually the world found out about you, Y/N Stark, and Tony went through extensive lengths to keep you safe.

To his misfortune, you decided you wanted to join the avengers. You had proved yourself strong enough, and with Tony’s technology and brain, he helped you become the best version of you that you could possibly be. And that’s what happened.

Joining the team was the best decision you had ever made. You met hour best friends, your second family, and you were lucky enough to fall in love with a certain brunet, metal-armed soldier.

Bucky was the last thing you had expected to gain out of this. When he joined the team, he avoided you at all costs. Didn’t even look at you. You understood that with his situation and all it took him time to adjust to new people, but you had been noting but nice to him, so his coldness confused you. Luckily, months later, he came around and you found yourself falling for the man, and falling hard.

He fell for you too, much to your surprise. The two of you have now been dating for over two years and it’s been the most incredible time of your life, in all honesty. He was passionate, loving, caring, and gentle beyond compare. He helped you so much, and you did the same for him. Tony wasn’t fond of the relationship the two of you formed, but he came around eventually. And you were eternally grateful.

But recently, things had taken a downward spiral and your relationship with Bucky became much bumpier. Your relationship with the entire team became rough, to be completely honest. The Sokovian Accords came into light, and you sided with Tony - he was your brother, you couldn’t fight him. But after Bucky was dragged into the mess, you had to side with him. You tried to persuade Tony to let things slide, to help you guys get Bucky out of this mess, but he was too stubborn to come to his senses.

“Tony, please, I don’t want to fight you,” your voice cracked as you came face to face with your brother at the airport - which was now turned into an Avengers battlefield.

“Then don’t. Hand over Barnes.” He rid himself of his Iron Man mask and gave you a regretful look, the emotions behind his eyes telling you exactly how he felt. You knew this was hard on him too, he wanted nothing more than to keep you safe and protect you from everything in the world, but he couldn’t. And this was proof of that.

“I can’t, Tony, he’s innocent,” you pleaded, looking behind you to make sure Sam and Bucky were out of harms way.

Tony hesitated, “Government rules, Y/N.” You were about to respond but he cut you off, “I know you love him, but please, think rationally. I don’t want to be the reason you’re in jail.”

You scoffed, “Then don’t arrest me. Let me do what’s right.”

You could practically see the gears spinning in his head as he tried to figure out what to do. You hated being against Tony, but you felt like this was your only chance to fight against something you knew was wrong. Bucky was innocent, and no matter how much fighting the team was going to go through, you weren’t going to give up fighting for him.

“Y/N, Bucky and I are heading to the jet, meet us there,” Steve’s voice startled you from your earpiece. You gave your brother an apologetic look as your eyes locked on Steve and Bucky running towards the jet, Natasha holding off T’Challa to help them out.

You started your run towards it, ignoring your brother’s calls and all the fights going on around you, trying to focus solely on getting out of here and keeping Bucky safe.

As you made your way into the jet, Steve plopped himself down in the pilots seat and closed the back door when he noticed you were in safely. You made your way over and sat next to Bucky, who was looking at the ground solemnly.

The jet took off quietly, and completely unaware of what was happening below, you relaxed into the seat, glad to be done with the fighting. For now.

“I don’t think I’m worth all of this,” Bucky mumbled, your heart breaking at his words. You placed your hand on his, intertwining your fingers as you looked into the baby blue of his eyes.

“Buck, you are worth it,” you spoke softly, “Everything you did, it wasn’t you. We need to get people to see that.”

His expression held so much sadness, “But I still did it.”

There seemed to be some sort of hidden meaning behind his words, but you pushed it aside and focused on him. You knew he was hurting, and you hated it. He never felt like he was worth anything, and now that people were fighting over him, the guilt was thicker than ever.

“But it wasn’t you. I think of Bucky and the Winter Soldier as two totally separate people,” you stated, giving his hand a squeeze, “What the Winter Soldier did, I don’t link it to you.”

His eyes softened and a small smile made its way onto his lips. He lifted your intertwined hands and placed them over his heart, making you grin like an idiot.

“Thank you,” he gazed into your eyes with so much intensity you could melt, “I don’t deserve you.”

You smiled at him, leaning into his body, “You deserve everything.”

His cheeks flushed slightly at your comment, but he kept a straight face, his lips curled into a warm smile. You could feel the nerves radiating off of his body, his leg bouncing up and down in an agitated manner. Usually, you’d calm him down, but he had every right to be nervous right now. The three of you were about to break into Siberian HYDRA base to scope out the other Winter Soldiers.

“I’m sorry about breaking you and your brother apart,” he said softly.

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head, “We’ll work things out between us once this situation has calmed down.”

Bucky seemed to relax slightly at your comment. He knew what Tony thought of him, hell, most people thought that way about him, but the last thing he wanted was to stand in the way of you and your family.

“I love you,” Bucky said, making your heart flutter as he pulled your hand to his lips, placing a delicate kiss on the back of your skin.

“I love you too,” you grinned, making him do the same.

The rest of the flight to Siberia was peaceful - you took a small nap on Bucky’s shoulder as he talked to Steve. He had a bad feeling about what was going to happen, but he didn’t want to worry you so he kept it to himself. This was where he had been wiped and tortured for countless years, so the thought of stepping back into there brought him horrible flashes.

“Doll, we’re here,” Bucky poked at your shoulder lightly, bringing you out of a restless nap. As he said the words, you could feel your fingers start to shake. You knew Bucky’s past pretty well, but stepping foot into the very building that tore him apart was making you nauseous. And extremely angry.

The cement building was frigid, the cool winter air floating around the abandoned structure. Computers were scattered everywhere, metal bars separating the different rooms. Bucky led the way, gun pointing forwards as you stood between him and Steve, who had his shield up. You had your gun in your hand, finger on the trigger, ready to shoot at anything that moved.

The three of you made your way up a small staircase when a noise caught your attention. You turner around and pointed your gun towards the doorway, Bucky following your moves as Steve crouched, facing the noise as well. Your heart lodged in your throat as the door opened slowly, revealing a glowing light on the chest of Iron Man.

“Tony, holy shit - I was gonna shoot you,” you let out a breath, putting your gun back in your holster as you faced your brother who approached the three of you. Steve lowered his shield, but Bucky kept his gun pointed at him.

“You seem defensive,” Tony scoffed, pointing to Bucky who held a hard expression. He had every right to be defensive, everyone was breathing down his neck every second of the day for something he had no control of. And it had been a particularly rough 48 hours.

“It’s been a long day,” Steve walked towards Tony, still slightly stiff, “What are you doing here?”

Tony was about to answer when he noticed Bucky’s gun still aimed at him, “Manchurian Candidate, you’re killing me. Lower the gun.”

You nodded towards Bucky and he lowered his gun, shooting you an apologetic glance before turning back to Tony.

“So, what brings you out to Siberia?” You placed your hands on your hips, “A little R&R?” You wouldn’t totally admit it out loud, but seeing your brother here made you feel so much calmer. You wanted him there and you were incredibly glad that he was. Something about his presence made you feel as if things were going to be alright.

“Well, maybe your story wasn’t so crazy,” he admitted, looking over at Bucky. Instant relief flowed through your body at realizing that Tony understood Bucky’s situation. Bucky’s shoulders dropped, the tension leaving his body when it clicked that Tony wasn’t there to attack him.

The four of you talked it out for a little longer before continuing your way through the dusty building, ancient computers lining the desks and a lack of windows making it hard to see. You kept your finger on the trigger the whole time, but trusted Bucky in front of you to keep eyes out. Tony held his hands out, ready to blast at whatever he deemed necessary.

As you turned a corner, you guys entered a large room with a small chair in the centre, surrounded by machines. You instantly knew that this was where Bucky was kept, his entire body going rigid once his brain connected the dots. You placed your hand on his shoulder, giving it a small squeeze as to say ‘it’s ok.’

The chair was surrounded by large tubes, bodies inside of them with bullets lodged in their foreheads. These must have been the other Winter Soldiers that Bucky had mentioned. But what happened?

“Don’t worry,” an accented voice broke the silence in the room, “They died in their sleep.”

You snapped your head in the direction of the voice and stopped in your tracks when your eyes fell upon Zemo - the man who caused all of this. After he had triggered Bucky and caused this major fall out, you swore you wanted to single handedly take down his stupid ass.

“Why are you doing this?” Steve asked, approaching the small window that Zemo was behind, shoulders tense.

Zemo’s cold glare didn’t falter, “To see an empire fall.”

You looked to Bucky, realizing that Zemo had triggered him to tear the Avengers apart. Things were starting to slowly make sense in this mess of a situation as you turned your glare back to Zemo.

“You’re Sokovian, that’s what this is about?” You approached Tony as you kept your gaze on the man who tore the team apart, “You lost someone?”

Zemo let our a dark chuckle, “I lost everyone. And you will too.”

Before you could process what he said, a screen flickered on from next to you, written ‘December 16, 1991.’

That date.

You knew that date.

You immediately turned to Tony, your entire body going numb. His eyes were set on the screen as the blurry image of a familiar road came up, the old car driving down the dirt path being an image that haunted your nightmares when you were younger.

“I know this road,” Tony mumbled, “What is this?!” He snapped towards Zemo who held a satisfied smirk on his face. Your heart sank as you watched the car drive before it was approached by a motorcycle. You knew what was about to happen.

You watched in remorse as the car crashed into the tree, having seen this video before. But this next part, you hadn’t.

Bucky’s heart shattered as he knew what was about to happen, but he couldn’t force himself to speak as he kept his eyes on you, a broken look on your face as you eyed the motorcycle on the screen.

As the camera angle changed, you caught sight of something that made your heart stop. The man getting off the motorcycle had a metal arm. You let out a shaky breath as he approached your father.

No. No. There’s no way.

“Sargent Barnes,” your father’s voice was weak as the man approached him, hitting him repeatedly over the head with his metal fist until the light left his eyes and the blood poured down his face.

You jumped back, clasping a hand over your mouth as your felt your entire body crumple. Bucky’s shaky breath from behind you told you everything you needed to know, but you couldn’t bring yourself to face him. He lied to you - betrayed you.

Tony’s hand slipped into yours, his deadly glare on the metal-armed man on the screen who was suffocating your mother to death. If things couldn’t get worse, Bucky’s intense figure stared right into the camera coldly and shot it twice, cutting off the video.

You couldn’t move. You couldn’t speak. The man that you had fallen in love with, the man who you trusted more than anyone else in your life - had killed your parents. You were too upset to think about how it was the Winter Soldier, not Bucky.

“Y/N...” Steve placed a hand on your shoulder but you smacked it off, tears in your eyes as you turned to face him.

“Don’t fucking touch me, Rogers.” You spat at him as Tony turned to face him too. Bucky’s grip on the gun was hard enough to break it, his entire body frozen in his spot.

“It wasn’t him,” Steve’s voice cracked as he faced Tony who was breathing heavily, glaring daggers at Bucky.

“Did you know?” Tony asked quietly, voicing what you were thinking.

Steve’s eyes flashed with regret before he spoke, “It wasn’t him.”

“Cut the bullshit, Steve,” you glared at him, “Did you know?”

On one hand, you were glad Bucky was being silent because you wouldn’t know how to handle him right know, but on the other hand, you were hoping for some sort of explanation - maybe even an apology.

“Yes,” Steve said quietly, causing you to scoff.

“Fucking fantastic!” You raised your arms, a sarcastic laugh leaving your mouth, “Anyone else holding a secret that’ll break years of trust? Hm? Anyone?”

Tony glared at Bucky, ready to charge, when the man spoke up.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” Bucky’s voice cracked as his eyes turned to face you, and you could tell that his heart was shattered.

You approached him, “You’re sorry? Oh, gosh, doesn’t that just solve everything?” Bucky flinched at your harsh tone, “You’re an idiot, James Barnes. You let me fall in love with you, for two goddamn years. And you were hiding this from me. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Bucky swallowed, biting back whatever he was going to say, and you were thankful for it. You could see Steve still holding Tony back.

“I didn’t know how you’d react,” Bucky admitted, “I wanted to keep the Winter Soldier’s past away from you, I know it’s selfish-”

You cut him off, “This is my family. You had no right keeping this from me.”

Before Bucky could answer, he was thrown across the room in a gold and red flash. Normally, you’d rush to save him, but you couldn’t move.

Steve rushed after Tony, trying to break apart the fight, but you couldn’t process what just happened. You might have been a little harsh on Bucky since it wasn’t his fault, but he knew and he kept it from you. Steve knew, he lied too. It felt like your entire world came crashing down in the span of five minutes.

Your fingers trembled as you turned to face Tony fighting off Steve and Bucky, and you ran to his aid.

“Leave him alone!” You shouted, aiming your gun at Steve, “He has every right to act the way he’s acting.”

Both soldiers stopped their movements, looking at you as if they had been betrayed. You had to bite your tongue to prevent you from sassing ‘now you know what betrayal feels like.’

Your hands shook as you held your aim on the two men who stepped away from Tony slowly. Sure, you cared about the two of them dearly, but right now you were too in the heat of the moment to care about the actions you were bringing forward.

Bucky’s eyes held so much pain, he hated seeing how hurt you were and knowing he was the cause. You wanted nothing more than to run into his arms and comfort him, but that wasn’t going to happen.

Not this time.

[gripefroot]

Phone Booth

Since you’d turned off your coms long ago - mission complete, and with ten minutes until rendezvous time at the jet - the sudden banging on the iron door jolts you and Bucky apart, breathing heavily as he quickly drops his hand from under your shirt. The door squeals, and a panicked Clint barges straight in and closes the door behind him. 

“You turned off your coms,” he snaps accusingly at the pair of you - you refuse to be embarrassed, merely curious at the sweat beaded on Clint’s forehead, glistening in the dim floor lights of the tech room. Small tech room. Not really made for four people. Counting you, Bucky, the knocked-out guard on the floor, and now Clint.  

“We finished our mission,” you say, twisting slightly so that Bucky can wind his metal arm around your waist chastely instead. “And we’ve still got a few minutes until we have to be back - we just figured we’d make the most of it.” 

“Gross.” 

“What’s going on?” Bucky asks, his voice a little rough.  

“They deployed some sort of smoke weapon through the vents,” Clint stands up a little straighter, wincing as he snaps his bow on his back. “Stark sent us all to the nearest rooms with closed vents.” 

“Luckily we’re already here,” you say, cooing slightly as you wink up at Bucky. He rolls his eyes fondly, giving your waist a little squeeze. 

“You know, just because we all know you’re dating now,” Clint says vehemently. “Doesn’t mean you can just go around frenching each other during missions. Lives are at stake here!” 

“Oh, please,” you brush this away. “This isn’t the first mission we’ve made out on. This is just the first time you found out.” 

There are a few shouts from down the hall, and hurried footsteps. A split second later, and Clint is thrown from in front of the door as Steve and Natasha barge in wildly, shutting the door just as fast as they came through it. You’re pressed back up against Bucky - you don’t mind, and clearly neither does he - but the temperature with the extra bodies is rising fast.  

“Aren’t there any other closed ventilation systems?” Natasha asks, taking in the sight of you and Bucky - probably a little haphazard looking - and Clint, glowering and rubbing his arm. And bumping into Steve in the process. Natasha, deciding that the best personal space could be gained above the tiny metal desk in the room - hops on top. The security guard beneath doesn’t move. Steve stands against the wall behind the door, one shoulder against the wall and one against Bucky. 

A room good for two people and a body - not so good for six.  

“Guess not,” Steve answers. 

“We got our intel,” you say to everyone.  

“Good for you,” Clint says testily.  

“Ugh, we were so close,” Natasha sighs. “98% complete when the bomb was deployed.” 

“Bucky, I don’t think the safety’s on,” Steve says, nodding at Bucky’s leg - where, indeed, his gun is strapped and ready to fire. Must’ve happened during the frenching, as Clint called it. Bucky quickly flips the switch.  

“Uh oh,” Natasha says suddenly, pressing a finger to her ear. “Stark’s coming in.” 

“No no no,” Clint groans. “Doesn’t his mask have a filtering system?” 

“He got hit in the face with a motorcycle when we were coming in,” you remind him. “Busted up his systems.” 

“Your holster’s on the floor, 28,” Natasha points out. You glance down - ah. Had Bucky unbuckled your thigh holster? It’s possible. He does things like that sometimes.  

Bending over as best you can in the tight space - Bucky muffles a groan behind you - oops, your rear is pressed up against him - you pick up your holster and strap it back on. And make sure the safety is on your Glock, too. Standing with a smile, you take your place against Bucky again, tilting your head slightly as he whispers a reprimand in your ear.  

“You tryin’ to spring me a boner in front of everyone, babe?” 

You ignore him, merely smiling smugly to yourself instead.  

“I wish I was deaf,” Steve comments.

“It’s worth it around them,” Clint says.  

The door opens again - only the slightest whiff of acrid air, and then Stark is through the door, shutting it behind him. His helmet flips open.  

“When I build a secret lair, remind me to put more than one closed vent room in the building,” he says. His back is against the door - the only space available. His armored knees knock against yours. Not very comfortable. Steve is shifting awkwardly, and Clint tries to scoot. There’s nowhere to scoot.  

“This is the worst game of seven minutes in heaven I’ve ever been invited to,” Tony comments.  

“Seven minutes in heaven ended when Clint showed up,” you say.  

Tony blinks. “Didn’t need to know that.”  

“Where’s Sam?” Natasha asks.  

“Maybe he’s lucky and made it out of the building,” Clint says.  

“Sam?” Steve says loudly, pressing a button on his com. Silence. Then he nods, and reports back, “Sam made it out. He’s waiting at the jet.” 

“I should’ve tried to make it to the door,” Clint laments.  

“Anyway, Jarvis has informed me that it will take approximately 48 hours for the chemicals to diffuse themselves safely out of the building,” Stark informs the group at large. “Think Sam can bring back a gas mask and some things to speed it up?” 

“Yes,” Steve says resolutely. 

Tony flips his helmet back on, and starts jabbering some technical talk to the missing Sam. Then a moment later, he opens his helmet again, scrunching his nose.  

“Someone forgot deodorant today,” Stark says, looking beadily around. Then he catches sight of the body beneath the desk. “Who’s the dead guy?” 

“He’s not dead - he was guarding the server,” you tell him. “Bucky hit him, that’s all.”

“He’s lucky. Wish I could be knocked out,” Clint sighs.

“That can be arranged,” Bucky says, a little testily. You reach around, finding his fingers with yours to give a little squeeze.  

“By the way, Stark, I’m going to be sending you the bills for therapy after this,” Clint announces. “I’m going to need some serious help getting the image of Barnes’s tongue down 28’s throat out of my brain.”

“Maybe group therapy will do the trick,” you tease him. “What do you think, Buck? Shall we traumatize everyone?” 

“No!” Steve says quickly, the tips of his ears bright red. 

“No!” Stark says almost as fast, looking away awkwardly. 

“Well,” Natasha says, tilting her head.  

“Gross,” Clint says again, still miffed. 

“You two are lucky you work so well together,” Tony adds, pointing a finger between you and Bucky behind you. “Otherwise I’d put a stop to this nonsense right now.” 

“Oh, please. This nonsense has been going on for a year and a half and it’s never bothered anyone before.” 

A chorus of protests starts as you finish speaking - you start to laugh, and Bucky’s fingers find their way to the back pocket of your pants. No one notices. Yet.  

“You know what,” Natasha says slowly, narrowing her eyes as she studies you. “I once heard something very suspicious on the coms. I figured it was just 28 out of breath, running for a rendezvous point...now I’m questioning it.” 

“When was that?” you ask, bemused. 

“Paris, last June.” 

“Oh. Yeah, I was already at the rendezvous. Bucky was, too.”  

“Let’s change the subject,” Steve says over Clint and Stark’s groans. Bucky is laughing in your ear. You like the feeling of his breath on your skin, shivering slightly. Clint shifts, and Natasha ducks to avoid getting whacked in the head by the arrows strapped to his back. Before she can (gently, undoubtedly) remind him of the limited space in the closet, a heavy foot presses on yours and you yelp. 

“Tony!” you say indignantly. 

“Sorry, 28.” 

“Clint!” Natasha snaps, ducking again.  

“Urrrggghhh,” from beneath the desk. Everyone looks down to the see the guard start to squirm - immediately Bucky’s boot shoots out, hitting his shin on the desk and the guard in the face. The guard stops moving.  

“I really hope Sam gets here soon,” Natasha sighs. Frankly, so do you - the little jaunt in the closet is much less fun now. Maybe you and Bucky can sneak into the bathroom on the jet. The two of you have done so before. Or, skip the sneaking and just tell everyone not to bother you. Not having a secret relationship anymore has its advantages. 

That little daydream helps the minutes to pass. Ignoring Tony giving Clint a hard time about something or another (it’s a nice break), you lean your head back against Bucky’s chest. He kisses the top of your head, but says nothing. Since Super-Hearing-Steve is less than a millimeter away, even if he is trying to ignore you and Bucky being touchy-feely. 

It’s probably about twenty degrees warmer in the closet than it had been when you and Bucky had snuck in. Steve is sweating - you can feel prickles of heat across your own skin, and your back pressed to Bucky is definitely damp. From him, or you. Doesn’t really matter. Natasha is fanning herself with a hand. Which probably isn’t helping much. 

“He’s back in the building,” Stark reports suddenly. 

“Finally,” Clint moans. Your fingers tighten on Bucky’s. The metal is cool, at least.  

“Air’s clean,” Tony adds. 

Then a rushing of air from somewhere above - the vents, probably - of the noxious gas being cleared out. In the closet, the air is just as stale as it was before, but a moment later there’s a pounding knock on the door. Stark squeezes into you so it can swing open - you’re pushed further back into Bucky (no complaints), and finally a breath of fresh air as Sam’s head, covered in a gas mask, pokes in.  

“Oh, boy,” comes Sam’s tinny voice. “I missed a good time, didn’t I?” 

“No, it was awful,” Clint says, stomping out. Nat hopes down lithely from the desk.  

“Could’ve been better,” she says. “But not with you stuck in there too.” 

“Thanks…” Sam’s eye roll can be seen through the helmet, though he really doesn’t seem offended at all.  

Tony is out next, talking to Jarvis about looking for more guards anywhere in the building to ‘take care of’, and finally Steve leaves, talking to Sam as if he hadn’t just spent the last hour pushed up against you and Bucky. Poor Steve.  

Bucky lets out a long breath. “Next time you say we have enough time to get a little frisky before we need to head out, I’m going to remember this specifically.” 

“Oh, come on,” you say lightly, peeling yourself from him as you turn around with a smile. “One interrupted mid-mission makeout out of what? Two dozen or more? And it wasn’t the kissing that was bad.” 

Bucky’s lips twist into a lopsided smile. “Wasn’t bad at all, babe.” 

“In fact - ” you glance over your shoulder - Steve and Sam are still chatting, walking down the hallway. Sam has taken off his mask. You kick your foot backwards, and the door clangs shut again before turning to Bucky with a smirk. “Where were we?” 

[missmaam123]

We're Here For You

DISCLAIMER- I DO NOT OWN SUPERNATURAL

Summary- Basically fluff, lol. After what happened in 12x16 with Claire, she’s not left as a werewolf, but with a cold.

Characters- Claire Novak, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Mick Davies (mentioned), Jody Mills (mentioned), Alex Jones (mentioned)

Warnings- sickness?, cursing

A/N- Sorry this is up later than expected, something came up yesterday and I had NO time to write. Also, this is just a cuter, more fluffy way to end 12x16 because I love the fact that Claire basically has 3 fathers. Also, I’m still butt hurt about the fact that Cas hasn’t been in the past 2 episodes with Claire in them. I just couldn’t think of a way to write him in. Also, I wrote it to where Mick had already left and gone back to the BMOL headquarters or whatever the hell they’re called. Anyway, this has been like the longest into ever. Onto the story!

Claire POV

It’s been a few hours since the whole werewolf incident had gone down. The weird foreign exchange student type dude whose name I learned was Mick had left.

I had felt off since I had been changed back. I figured it was just the side effects of the cure. We were riding back to the hotel that Sam and Dean were staying at when I started to feel a funny tickle in the back of my nose.

Then it happened.

I sneezed.

Immediately after, Sam and Dean chorused “Bless you”.

It was quite funny actually. It was as if it was a reflex.

General POV

Worry laced Dean’s features as he was driving and said “You feelin okay kid? You’ve had a pretty rough night”.

“I’m ok, I just don’t feel the greatest.” Claire responded.

“You think you’re getting sick?” Sam asked, also becoming concerned.

“Maybe, I should be fine by tomorrow.” Claire said before going into a small coughing fit.

The boys shared a look that didn’t go unnoticed by Claire.

“I’m fine guys, don’t worry” Claire said trying to reason with them, exhausted.

The guys decided not to push her. Poor kid almost died tonight.

As they got out of the Impala, the guys noticed how pale Claire looked. She stumbled as she got out of the car, and if it weren’t for Dean, she probably would’ve face planted.

“Hey, hey, stay with me Claire” Dean tried to tell Claire as the valet took the car.

It was no use though because Claire was struggling to stay awake.

Dean sighed and scooped Claire up in his arms and could immediately feel the heat radiating off of her. He then carried her bridal style up to his room, trying his best to ignore some of the looks he was getting from people.

It was understandable. Dean was around 20 years older than Claire, and it would probably look suspicious seeing an older, gruff looking man carrying a young blonde.

When they got to Dean’s room, he laid Claire down on one of the two beds he had.

Why Mick got their rooms with two beds, he didn’t know. At the moment though, Dean was very thankful for that extra bed.

“It’s probably just a side effect from the cure, or she could just be sick” Sam said trying to assure Dean.

Claire then managed to wake herself up a good while later after Sam had gone to the store and gotten some supplies. Tissues, meds, some soup, and a few other little things.

Claire sighed as she plucked another tissue out of the box and sneezed into it again. She had been sneezing for a good five minutes non-stop. The boys blessed her with each one as if it was drilled into their brains.

Dean was really beginning to get really worried. He walked over to her and put his hand on her forehead.

“You’ve got one hell of a fever there” Dean said in his fatherly tone.

Truth is, even though Dean would never admit it, both Sam and Dean loved Claire as if she was their daughter.

“I feel like shit” Claire mumbled.

“You think you’d be up for a ride back to the bunker? I could drive your car back and you can sleep.” Sam offered.

“Yeah, I guess” Claire said, before sneezing yet again

“Bless you” the boys chorused, yet again.

There weren’t that many interruptions that night. Sam ended up going back to his room, telling Dean to call if anything happened. Dean ended up crashing in the other bed.

Claire was still sneezing her head off, but managed to get some sleep.

Morning came, and Sam went to get some breakfast. He got some fruit and tea for Claire and him and Dean their usual.

Back at the hotel, Claire woke up still feeling shitty. Dean kept a close eye on her throughout the morning.

After everything was packed into the Impala and Claire’s car, they all piled up and headed out.

Claire was curled up in the front seat in a big blanket with a pillow up against the passenger window, with her sock-covered feet on Dean’s lap sleeping. Claire was a bit hesitant to get that comfortable in Dean’s “Baby”, but luckily Dean didn’t mind.

Dean had never seen Claire so vulnerable. She was always a badass hunter that didn’t take shit from anyone. Now though, things have completely shifted. Claire was passed out in the passengers seat with a crumbled up tissue in hand looking absolutely pitiful.

A few hours later when Claire had woken up, everyone was starting to hungry. They found a little diner to stop at.

Dean ordered a burger, Sam ordered his salad, and Claire just got some chicken noodle soup and some more hot tea.

“You really don’t feel good do you? You’re normally a burger type of girl” Dean said sympathetically.

Claire shook her head no and got THE face.

Sam and Dean knew that face well, it was the face she made when she was about to sneeze.

Sam hurriedly got a napkin out of the dispenser and handed it to her.

Claire then sneezed about 5 times before sniffling and groaning.

“As soon as we get back, it’s more meds and bed for you, ya hear?” Dean said strictly, yet softly.

Claire just simply nodded.

Everyone ate fairly quickly, eager to get back on the road and back to the bunker.

They all piled back up in their cars and headed back to the bunker.

Claire was texting Alex telling her what had happened. As expected, Jody and Alex weren’t very happy, but in the end they were just happy she was safe.

By the time they pulled into the bunkers’ garage, Claire had fallen asleep again. Dean turned off the engine and sighed. Poor kid had practically been to hell and back in the past 48 hours.

Dean decided not to wake her and picked her up, yet again, and carried her to one of the guest rooms. Sam grabbed some more medicine for her to take when she woke up and followed.

Dean gently laid Claire on the bed. She stirred and opened her eyes.

“How the hell did I get here?” Claire mumbled.

“We drove, but you slept for most of the ride. You were still sleeping so I just carried ya in here” Dean said.

“Thank you” Claire said before sneezing twice.

“Bless you” both boys chorused.

Claire couldn’t help but roll her eyes and giggle at the amount of times the boys have said that in the past could of days.

It was then that she realized that they would always, truly, be there for her. For anything she needed.

Hope you guys liked it!

@miss-katie-winchester

[rissaroundtheworld]

“"Where We’re Going, We Don't Need Roads” - A Memoir of My First Month at Sea

Ahoy beloved friends and readers! I write to you from the back of my new home, a 38 foot catamaran, in the middle of the Caribbean Sea. This area is solely inhabited and governed by the native indigenous people, the Kunas, several of which have become my boyfriends. The most useful, Apio (spanish for celery, so you know he's the real deal) just motored up to this boat on a tiny wooden kayak (called a Cayuca) to ask me if I would like him to deliver me a few cases of beer tomorrow. Obviously, I said "si."

In case that last sentence didn't make it clear, life is a little different here. And by a little, I mean it couldn't possibly be more of a 180 from my previous life OR my backpacking life. Who knew I could take the life I knew, chew it up, and spit it back out twice in less than a year!?! With that being said, this new adventure has been amazing. I am learning new things, seeing new places, meeting new people, and I might be the most tan I've ever been (which, I've been told, is still not very impressive.) Still, its been a wild ride getting here, and it took me some time to adjust. Here's my best recap on the last month or so:

Originally, the plan was for me to fly into Panama City and meet the boat in San Blas, where we are spending the foreseeable future. However, I'm learning that unexpected and sometimes seemingly disastrous boat problems are to be expected anytime, anywhere, and such problems occurred while the boat was still in Bocas del Toro, where I began my international solo travel 9 months ago. Since I was the mule for crucial boat parts, my new-new life started right where my old-new life began. To be honest, being back was a bit of a head trip and I was happy to get out. Thankfully, we made a fast escape after about 48 hours of boat and food provisioning related insanity. There were two crew members on board, Liz and Tomas, and we picked up a third, Daria, thanks to the glorious gift of Tinder. This online dating-friendly crew would make up my social circle for the next few weeks and I couldn't have been luckier! Tomas was a professional chef and made us AMAZING food for every meal, every day, while Liz, Daria, and I spent most of our free time floating naked in the Caribbean drinking gin. I brought down an inflatable flamingo, whom we named Domingo, and most days were spent jumping off the boat onto Domingo and seeing who did a better job (Generally Liz). We listened to music, made jewelry, played board games, and mostly just didn't wear clothes. Seriously... I saw a lot of bums.

With that being said, we did do actual work and we definitely did actual sailing. My sailing experience previously consisted of taking a bedsheet and tucking it into my rollerblades during a hurricane as a teenager, so it should go without saying that the learning curve was a bit steep. Luckily, my rock climbing background set me up as a great rope coiler, and the knowledgeable crew helped me out a lot. Now I sort of know how to avoid crashing into reefs, and I can help let out anchor chain like a champ. Since Tomas is now gone (I miss you everyday amigo!) I am also the resident chef, and I prepare all meals wearing a pirate apron. I still don't know how to cook fish, which is a small problem when you live on a boat in the middle of nowhere with a spearfisherman, but... we're working on it. And luckily, everyone likes sushi.

A few major things have happened in this time period. Thing one was my first open ocean sail! After leaving Bocas, we did a few "test" sails, which involved staying relatively close to the marina in case anything went wrong and basically gliding over calm waters. I was, at this time, not aware that this not "real" sailing. I thought "hey! This is great, I can do this!" We coasted along, drank some beers, listened to good music, and relaxed. Joke was on me. Once we determined that the boat was in good enough condition to leave, we ACTUALLY sailed... turns out this is very different. I don't remember exactly where our first big sail began or ended, but I do remember how long it was: 28 hours. The beginning was comical - it took the entire 4 member crew to prepare coffee, one person holding the kettle down while the boat was rocking, one person holding the grinder down, then a full support team trying to safely pour boiling hot water into the french press while maintaining three points of contact on the incredibly unstable boat. Needless to say there were a few burns and a LOT of spilled coffee (remember, the next step was getting it into mugs - oooooff!) At first we had fun with it - we had contests to see who could stand on one foot the longest (Liz again), played ukulele, listened to The Lonely Island's "I'm on a Boat" far more times than necessary. Sleeping was awful, and we all had to take shifts in the middle of the night to make sure the boat didn't crash (evidently this is something you want to avoid). But, we made it, spent a few days re-provisioning, and then made our final jump. 10 hours, which sounded like nothing compared to the previous 28, but once again... joke was on me. These seas were significantly more rough than before, and about an hour in I noticed myself feeling a little... off. This quickly escalated into 9 straight hours of me curled up in the fetal position on the back deck with a sarong over my face, occasionally experiencing a moment of strength where I would drag myself inside to get as many Ritz crackers as I could hold in one hand. When we finally arrived in San Blas, I couldn't even bring myself to participate in the obligatory "anchor beer" (another boating skill I am quickly adapting to). This was not a fun time.

Luckily, I recovered quickly, and to calm any fears of potential visitors, this is NOT what its like to sail around San Blas. Not even close. Seasickness is entirely not a thing here, even for my apparently delicate self. And with all this time spent not being seasick, we've done a LOT now that we're here! Activities have included:

DIVING If you saw me when I came home in December, you may have noticed (and politely not mentioned) that I put on a few L-Bs since leaving. And if you knew me at any point ever in my life, you know that this is not something I stand for. When I left home the second time (after of course gorging on Christmas cookies) I got my act together - ate better, drank less, worked out more consistently. My primary workouts are running and yoga, which are both relatively easy to do on the road. But now... there are no roads. And very few spacious, flat surfaces which don't threaten to move at any time (only beaches). What's a slightly chubby girl to do? Then I learned (and have since heard over 1000 times) that free diving is the second best cardiovascular exercise in the world, beat only by competitive fast wood chopping. And I now live with a certified free diver. My previous diving experience was... limited. Basically, if I dropped something to the bottom of my reasonably shallow pool, I accepted it as a loss. So free diving lesson day one was a bit scary, but luckily I had a great instructor! Nate walked me through proper breathing techniques, and then pushed me to try deeper depths. I experienced my first (of now many) underwater contractions, which may have made me pee my pants a little - its tough to tell when you're in the ocean. But by day 3, I was diving alone to between 30 and 35 feet! This has been good for both my heath and entertainment- I'm watching my Argentinian Malbec-induced love handles melt away, and I've had the opportunity to explore the reefs around here in a whole new way. They are STUNNING. If I could double capitalize that, I would. STUNNING! There is beautiful coral, colorful fish, anemones, octopi, shellfish, and so much more. My job when we go diving is to hunt lobsters and crabs, but I generally get caught up in all the beauty and forget. I am currently batting a 0.000.

FRIENDS Turns out, you can live on a boat in the middle of nowhere and still have a social life. In fact, at times our social schedule was so packed we had to turn down a few requests - who would have guessed!!? I've already met so many new people of all ages, nationalities, and different walks of life. We've had boatloads of fun (see what I did there?), but again, its... different. For example: We met up with some friends who had heard about a dolphin carcass that washed ashore, and they wanted to take the teeth for jewelry. One asterisk - they heard about this six weeks prior, but had been running charters and thus unable to explore. If, like me, you have no experience in excavating a dolphin carcass that has been on a beach in the tropics for six weeks, let me tell you: they're disgusting. At several points, the brave leader of the excavation team looked like she was going to puke. The smell was unbearable, and we had to use the dolphins scapula to find the bones as no one had thought to bring a shovel. In the end we discovered that, in the six weeks it had been sitting, someone had already stolen the teeth. And this is how my ocean social life began.

WORKING Yep, you read that correctly. I've been doing real, actual work. One day I even worked for nearly 6 straight hours (when we realized this we promptly closed the computers and made cocktails). I came to the boat to help Nate run charters, which I had no experience in and he had only done informally before. Getting this up and running has been a crazy amount of work! We've had to restructure websites and market ourselves online, which is always fun when you're in the middle of nowhere in an underdeveloped country. Our wifi consists of a small device which we put into a backpack and hoist to the top of the mast, where we HOPE we get enough signal to do what we need. Quite advanced technology here. We had to clean the whole boat top to bottom, and reorganize a lot to make sure our guests feel comfortable. We had to reach out to people to set up water taxis, food deliveries, fix boat problems (they really are never ending), and figure out charter-friendly recipes. Then we had to sample said recipes, which meant me making all kinds of treats and Nate getting to eat and critique them. I'm pretty sure he got the better end of the deal here. Somehow, we managed to get it all together and in late April we took on our first ever charter together. I was terrified. When we got the booking I ran around the boat in a full blown panic, and didn't sleep from that moment until our guests arrived (thankfully it was a last minute booking!) What if my sushi rolls fell apart? What if I burnt the eggs? What if I cut my finger and cried into the rice and then the guests unknowingly paid to eat my tears!? Luckily, none of these things happened. In fact, barring an unfortunate lion fish sting (not one of the guests thankfully), the charter went REALLY well. We got along swimmingly (more boat jokes!) with our guests, who were incredibly kind, fun, and easy going people. My meals went well. We got in great diving, fishing, relaxing, and exploring. The guests even spoiled us by cooking dinner one night, which was warmly welcomed since by this point my feet felt like they were entirely on fire. We walked (errr... water taxied) away with new friends. We couldn't have started off on a better note.

So here we are - relaxing before our next guests arrive in a few days. We're hanging with these guys for about a week or so, then heading to do some wheeling and dealing (and obeying stupid new immigration laws) in Colombia before returning for a charter in late July. Theres a trip to the states in the mix, where my goals include not cooking and not cleaning (sorry mom and dad!) I am going to take a real shower (yep, hasn't happened in six weeks). I will eat broccoli and pork and all of the foods that the Kuna veggie boats wont bring me. I will drink real beer, and see all the people I love and haven't seen in nearly six months! But until then, I'll go wash my hair in the ocean, munch on a carrot, and crack open a Balboa. Life's not so bad :)