#maybe it's because i know their internal pov and don't hear their voices or see them

[moodyseal]

I was poking fun at how unexpectedly silly the CHB kids looked in armour in the first two episodes of the PJO show (acting like an almighty army and all) and then it hit me. This is exactly how some of them will look like when they will be dying in the final battle. Silly. Tiny. Literal children

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Your Fault

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: Reader is pregnant and suffering from morning sickness, only to be comforted by Daryl. Takes place in Alexandria. (I'm so bad at summaries, please forgive me).

Tropes: Fluff, Pregnancy Fluff, Established Relationship

Warnings: I mean, I don't think there's any. If anything I'll say references to past smut, but not explicit at all. Mentions of vomiting.

Word Count: 1.5K

Note: This is written in a dialect style with Daryl's accent in mind so the misspellings are intentional. There is minimal use of (y/n).  Any references to the reader besides the (y/n) is done using "your" or "you". I tried to proofread the best I could, but nobody's perfect. If you don't like, don't read, but if you do like you're my favorite!

Internal monologue is done in italics.

ENJOY!

Main Masterlist

Prequel Fic "Meet Cute"

******************************************

Daryl's hand is soft, tangling into the strands of your hair to pull it back from your face as you unleash the remnants of your dinner into the toilet with a loud groan. The brightly colored tile on the bathroom wall mocks you, each swirl of color illuminated by the fluorescent light above that hurts your sensitive eyes.

Who picks bright pink for bathroom tile?

You think with a groan as your stomach heaves again.

Daryl’s right hand rubs soothing circles into your back  to let you know he's there.

“It’s alrigh. Jus get it all ou.” He mutters.

You had practically run him over when you ran to the bathroom, waving your arms to make him go away, not wanting to see you like this, but Daryl had ignored your half hearted attempts to push him away.

And even though you hadn’t wanted him to see you like this, it was easier. Daryl made everything easy, effortless, and most importantly made you feel loved, more loved than you had felt before all of this.

Your forehead presses against the cool lip of the toilet as you wipe the remnants of dinner off your chin and let out a shaky breath.

"Here." Daryl gently pulls you back from your position to wipe at your chin with a towel.

"Hmm." You lean into his touch with a sigh.

"Ya alrigh?"

"Ughh."

“Come on.” He pulls you against his chest, sitting back so his back is against the bathtub, folding his knees in front of him and dwarfing the already small bathroom.

Daryl looks almost exactly the same as he did when you first met and every time you look at him, you feel the exact same. Butterflies flapping against the walls of your stomach, heart surging up into your throat while pins and needles trace his well placed rough fingertips against your arm. Every touch feels like the first, every kiss sets you on fire, and you wouldn't change a second of it. Sometimes you think just how lucky you are that all this happened, because you can’t imagine your life without him. Admittedly a little selfish, but  then you think of what your life would have been if none of this had happened.

Maybe you would still be in Atlanta finishing up your residency, still live in that apartment downtown, still have the same shifts, eat at the same restaurants- but then where would Daryl be?

Where else would you meet someone who got you so simply, who understood what you were thinking just with a quick glance. Who else would make you feel like you’d swallowed the sun when you found them looking at you?

And who else would you love as utterly and completely as you love him?

"This is your fault." You lean your head against his shoulder, stretching out your legs to knock your thigh against Daryl’s knee.

He was  taller than you, broader and stronger in all the best ways. It was what drew you to him, well that and you thought that it was cute how shy he was, how he'd stumble a bit through his words when you first started talking and how the tips of his ears would flush pink when you smiled at him.

"My fault?" You can hear the smile in his voice. Daryl shifts his arm up over your shoulder to pull you closer into his chest, brushing his hand up and down your arm, letting you settle into him.

"Yes. It's your fault I'm pregnant." Your right hand runs over your stomach that has begun to protrude more in the past few months, a whirlwind to be sure, but a welcome one. The initial 30 days had been 30 days of agony while you tried to think of a way to tell Daryl that he was going to be a father. When you first started dating he had been hesitant to tell you about the raised pink scars on his back and chest- the ones you had seen when patching up a bullet wound that he had taken for you.

And when he finally told you what his father did to him, you couldn't help but fold him into you and hold him close.

The pregnancy wasn't a surprise to you, you'd been living together since you'd arrived at Alexandria and this was a happy accident. But nevertheless when you told Daryl he had left without so much as a word taking your heart with him. You had stayed in bed for what seemed like days, only to have him arrive 4 hours later with a bouquet of wildflowers and prenatal vitamins, where he found them you didn't know, all that mattered was that he was back and he was happy. Happier than you'd ever seen him.

Since then Daryl had been at your side almost constantly, the occasional run had intervened, when Rick himself had to  drag Daryl away, but on each run Daryl always brought something back for you. Whether it be another book you could read together, one of the last candy bars to ever exist, or a knitted blanket to cover your shoulders when you dragged yourself into the bathroom at what seemed all hours of the day- like the exact one you had draped around yourself now. And when he wasn't on runs he was helping you with the small nursery, where a hand carved crib stood as another sign of Daryl’s love, the exact crib that made you burst into tears when he and Rick brought it into the house for the first time.

"Pretty sure we were both there." He rumbles with a smile.

"Logistics don't matter." Your eyes narrow.

"Pretty sure they do. Ya're the doc after all." Daryl's smirk makes a warm tingle travel down your spine, the same smirk that got you into this mess in the first place. "I also remember that ya were wearin my shirt-"

"Typical man blaming the woman for what she's wearing. I thought you were better than that."

His smirk grows. "More like what ya weren't wearin."

"My clothes were wet from the storm, I was trying to change-"

"Inta' my shirt!"

You lean away from him, feigning anger. "Oh you think you're so innocent? You came into the house soaked to the bone and no one should look as good as you do soaking wet." You accuse.

"Maybe you should have shut your eyes then." He shrugs.

"Shut up." Your hands fall against his chest, playfully pushing him away, but he grabs your wrists.

"Make me."

"Don't look at me like that." You groan shifting away from him. "That's what got us into this mess in the first place-" Your eyes search his face for a minute, taking in the familiar blue eyes and scruff that scratches against the smooth skin of your fingertips. "But at least we know it's a girl. No more Daryl Jr."

"We ain't gonna call 'im tha. And how do ya know it's a girl?"

"They say that  if it's a girl you get sick more often.”

He snorts, pulling you back into his chest. "The way ya are going we might be havin' two."

"Shut up. Don't joke about that. One's enough, and this one is taking it's sweet time."

"Maybe jus' likes it in there."

You groan into his solid chest, feeling his muscles tense around you, familiar and welcome.  "Everyone always talks about what a blessing it is to be pregnant, how you glow, blah blah blah. It's all propaganda! I feel like I'm smoldering. I'm fat, my feet hurt, I'm sick all the time-"

"Ya ain' fat y/n."

"Don't lie to me." You sit up to look him in the eye. "You made a promise to not lie to me."

"I ain' lying." He breathes.

You search his gaze, nostrils flaring as if you think you can smell the lie, but all you smell is Daryl. The hypnotic scent of cigarettes (that he refused to smoke around you), sweat,  the heady smell of the woods and the smell of a thunderstorm before it hits, that  clean smell of rain  as it dribbles through the branches above before falling onto your skin.

"Ya're even more beautiful than the firs' day I met ya." Daryl's touch is feather light against your cheek, drawing you closer so he can press his forehead against yours. "Pretty sure ya get more beautiful every day. And if this is a girl-" His free hand drags across your belly, smiling as the baby kicks against his fingers. "She's gonna be beautiful jus' like ya."

You feel the blush drift up into the roots of your hair remembering the day you met. “That was a crazy day-“

“Because ya shot me.”

“It only skimmed your hair, don’t be a baby. And I thought you were a walker.”

“Las' time I checked my hair is on top of my head.”

“You were fine.” Your palms gently fall against the scruff of his cheeks. “I’m really glad I missed.”

“Me too."

******************************************

Thank you so much for reading!!

If you liked this fic, be sure to read the prequel “Meet Cute,” that shows the story of how Daryl and the Reader met!

[aishangotome]

Alfons Sylvatica: [Mad Love] Chapter 22

Chapter 21 His POV

♡———♡

**flashback**

Alfons: …Then… shall we make a bet?

Kate: …A bet…?

Alfons: If I die, I win. Goodbye, have a good life.

Alfons: But if I survive… you win.

Alfons: As you wish, we’ll love each other properly—

Alfons: And I’ll tear your life to shreds.

**flashback over**

---The bet made on the brink of death.

Kate: ... I won the bet.

Smiling with tears in her eyes, Alfons gently placed his palm on my head - -

Alfons: Did I say something about a bet?

--CHOICES--

Pinch his hand

Step on his foot

Poke his wound

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

Kate: Have you forgotten!? That's terrible!

I try to stomp on his foot, but Alfons narrowly avoids it.

Alfons: Phew, that was close. I'm a sick man, you know. Take it easy on me.

Alfons chuckles at my sullen expression.

Alfons: It's not a lie, I remember it very well.

Alfons: I also remember your adorable face when you clung to me and cried out.

Kate: You can forget about that...

I hug him even tighter, and he pats my back repeatedly as if in surrender.

Alfons puts his hand on my chin - close enough to see each other's reflection in our eyes - and our gazes meet.

Alfons: But I don't know what it means to love properly.

Alfons: Can you teach me, Kate?

My heart skips a beat as I hear the slight heat in his voice.

Kate: ... Of course.

Kate: First of all... you shouldn't tease the people who care about you.

Alfons: Haha! You're serious.

Just as Alfons bursts into laughter - -

Elbert: Al...?

(Lord Elbert...! )

Lord Elbert, who had appeared in the dining hall, stood still in surprise.

Elbert: Alfons, you're safe! You're alive!

Kate: We won!

His smile, which suddenly blossomed like a flower, made me happy too, and my cheeks relaxed.

Alfons: ... When did you two become so close?

He tilted his head curiously as he watched us exchange smiles.

Kate: While you were dying.

Elbert: Mm.

Alfons: ... Oh.

Alfons: Well, you're both quite naïve, so I guess you'd hit it off, you two.

Elbert: I think there are more similarities than that...

Alfons: ... What is it?

Lord Elbert glanced at me and showed a mischievous smile that I had never seen before.

Elbert: ... A secret.

Alfons: Huh?

I think I understand what Lord Elbert is saying.

(Maybe it's because you love Alfons.)

Kate: ... Hehe.

Alfons: Is that a secret just for the two of you? Even in front of a man who has pledged his love to you, that's cruel, Kate.

Roger: - - By the way.

Before I knew it, I was pulled away from Alfons, and Roger was grabbing him by the scruff of the neck.

I don't know when he finished eating breakfast, but the few slices of toast that had been on his plate were completely gone.

Roger: Al, I don't remember telling you it was okay to get out of bed.

Alfons: Hmm, do I need your permission?

Even though he knows that he was saved thanks to Roger, Alfons deliberately tilts his head and looks clueless.

Roger: I'm your surgeon. Patients are not allowed out of bed until they have permission from the doctor.

Roger, on the other hand, is used to this kind of thing and responds calmly.

Alfons: I can't follow that because I haven't given "informed consent."

Roger: No, you will follow my instructions.

Roger: Because you're in a state where your heart could stop at any moment due to internal bleeding and arrhythmia.

Roger: You pulled out the IV on your own?

Kate: Eh!?

(You were hiding from me and following me around in such a critical condition!?)

Kate: Go to bed, right now!

Alfons: That's cruel! Kate, whose side are you on!?

Kate: Of course, Roger's!

I would rather side with Roger, who is saving his life, than Alfons, who is taking his own life lightly.

I said it firmly, and Alfons made an exaggeratedly shocked face, taking out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping his eyes.

Alfons: Such... I thought I could count on you...

Kate: ... Even if it's an act, I don't want to hear that from you...

Alfons: ... Aren't you lonely, Kate?

Alfons: We just decided to love each other properly and now we're going to be separated right away.

Kate: Well... of course I'm lonely.

Kate: But Alfons' life is the most important thing, so I'll put up with it.

Alfons: ....!

Alfons blinks at me, his eyes wide.

(Oh, was that a joke? I took it seriously.)

(Am I going to be teased again?)

As I look at him awkwardly, a smile appears on his lips.

Alfons: Hehe... then I'll make up for it by spoiling you a lot when I'm healed.

(Wha...?)

His words are naughty, but his smile is gentle and - -

Roger: Sorry to interrupt your fun, but that's it.

Before I can say anything, Alfons is dragged away by Roger, still holding him by the scruff of the neck.

Alfons: See you again soon, Kate.

Roger: If you "escape" again, I'll tie you to the bed.

As I wave back, following Alfons, the words from earlier keep running through my head.

(Spoil me? What will he do?)

My head is filled with Alfons again.

-

It was a few days later that Alfons was finally allowed to leave the hospital bed.

But before I could be "spoiled," the Crown's mission was in motion.

The members of the Purification Club who had tried to contact Alfons were all interrogated for information and then condemned by the Crown.

---The Crown never forgives sin.

The Purification Club has gone into hiding after learning that the member who tried to contact Alfons never returned.

According to Victor, Congressman Gore has asked the Privy Council for instructions, but they seem to be ignoring him.

Wiliam: There's no point in keeping a pawn that cannot be used.

Alfons: I bet the pride of a political bigwig must be hurt.

Alfons pretends to sigh dramatically.

But the next moment, he takes a sympathetic breath and his lips curl into a playful smile.

Alfons: - - Oh, I have a great idea.

Alfons: What do you say we comfort the wounded and frightened Congressman Gore?

-

Kate: It's finally time, huh...

Alfons: Ah ha! As always, you're so stiff, Kate.

The "plan" that Alfons came up with was a simple one: trick Gore into coming to the palace by pretending to be the Privy Council, and then condemn him on the spot.

If it's an invitation from the Privy Council, which has been ignoring him recently, he should want to jump at the chance, and even the most cautious politician would have to respond to a summons from the Privy Council.

As Alfons predicted, Gore has agreed to the invitation and will be coming to the palace tonight.

(Other things are going well too.)

**flashback to earlier**

William: If there is a problem, it's this. There is a possibility of obstruction by the Privy Council or intervention by the police, but...

Harrison: We've leaked misinformation to the Privy Council beforehand.

Harrison: They believe that the Crown will confront the Purification Club tonight at a different location.

William: ...That's what he said.

(Why did the Privy Council easily believe the information Harrison leaked...?)

That bothered me, but William seemed to know the reason, so I didn't ask him in detail.

Alfons: Everyone has a secret or two, I'm sure.

Alfons: Even Harrison... right?

Kate: ...That's more convincing coming from you.

Alfons: Ah ha! You flatter me.

*flashback over

To make the "misinformation" Harrison leaked more credible, the Crown split into two groups, with Harrison, Liam, Roger, and Jude heading to the fake meeting place.

And then William, Elbert, Alfons, Ellis, and Victor.

They are going to confront Gore directly.

(The key to the plan to lure Gore in is Alfons' ability.)

Alfons will use his ability on Gore to make him believe that the people waiting at the palace are the "Privy Council".

(...In other words, Alfons is the only one who will confront Gore directly as himself.)

Kate: ...Don't get any funny ideas, okay?

Alfons: What do you mean, funny ideas?

Alfons: Are you going to do something naughty with me here to drown the anxiety?

Kate: That's not what I meant...

Alfons: You mean like provoking someone to kill me, or something like that?

He then looks at me with a dumbfounded expression.

Alfons: ... If that's the case, I'm actually more worried about you being here.

Kate: Why is that?

Alfons: I'm afraid your stubbornness might backfire again, and I'll end up getting shot protecting you.

( ... That was definitely my fault.)

The regret is etched into my heart so deeply that it will never fade.

(But I won't let it happen again.)

Kate: It's okay. I won't let you do that again.

Kate: I'll protect myself.

She lifts the hem of her skirt slightly.

Alfons: ––Oh?

When I showed him the leg holster I had concealed inside my skirt and the pistol nestled within, Alfons whistled in a teasing manner.

Alfons: Sexy. Would you like to spend a night together?

Kate: Don't joke around!

She quickly lowers her skirt, hiding the pistol.

Alfons: A gun? Do you even know how to handle that?

Kate: The postmaster said, "In this day and age, it wouldn't hurt for women to learn how to protect themselves," and held a training session...

Alfons: Haha! That post office... is it really just a post office?

I had forgotten because my time with Crown was so shocking, but thinking about it, this is the kind of story Alfons would find amusing.

Kate: The postmaster was fond of new things. Of course, I had no real combat experience, so...

Kate: While waiting for you to wake up, I had William teach me a little, as a change of pace.

Alfons: What a dangerous way to change your pace. You've been completely tainted by Crown, you poor little robin.

Kate: Heh, you're one to talk.

(When I talk to Alfons, my nervousness fades away...)

Thinking back, it's always been like this.

(No matter how cautious I was, Alfons would suddenly breathe into my ear, his presence undetectable...)

(Ever since we met, he's always been taking away my anxieties and tension.)

As our eyes met, I couldn't help but smile naturally, despite the fact that I was about to confront Councilor Gore.

Kate: What I'm trying to say is... I won't let you protect me anymore, so don't worry.

She touches the gun through her skirt.

(I don't want to forget you yet.)

This gun holds my wish.

Alfons: So I won't get to see you, the one I protected, pathetically crying and clinging to me anymore...

Alfons: ... That's a shame.

The shadow of a cloud slowly drifts overhead.

The night of judgment - light and shadow alternately illuminate Alfons' gleeful smile.

-

.

.

.

.

.

.

Mad Love Chapter 23

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)

[hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog]

Tell me about Dean falling in love with a girl who has long covid - maybe they met when he saved her from a monster and they became friends, she occasionally helps him with research or patches him up if he gets hurt. He doesn’t hear from her for a while, and when he goes to check on her, he finds out she’s in the hospital with Covid - a monster he can’t save her from. He realizes he loves her, but may lose her. After she gets out he keeps coming to check on her because he knows she tires easily/has trouble breathing at times.

@deans-spinster-witch thank you for this ask. Actually thank you all that submit asks or sent me story prompts, I am going to get to them all, but I thought this one would be a good place to start.

First let me start off with my disclaimers:

1) I haven't see the last few seasons of SPN, so I don't know how they addressed COVID, if they did at all. So think of it as alternative timeline, not really canon.

2) My COVID representation is probably not 100% accurate, either by the reader symptoms or that I don't mention Dean wearing a mask or that he was able to be in the hospital with the reader.

3) I just POV and I think I may have jump from 2nd to 3rd person writing? I did my best to correct it, but sometimes I can't seem to correct it. Also did my best with editing, but I am sure I missed something. Flashbacks are bold italic and internal thoughts are just italic.

4) I am not sure if this is 100% what you were looking for. It does end on a cliffhanger, so I will be posting a second part. It was getting hella long coming in at 7,500 words. 😬 sorry.

5) swearing, hints of past trauma that we may get more in the second part. Self doubt/hate. Angst heavy!

Okay think that's it. It's a Y/N x Dean focus story with Sam making an appearance via phone. Characters are not mine but the work is. So please don't post as your own.

Feel free to like, reblog, send me feedback in the comments. And if you have a story idea, send it my way via asks or message. Or if you want me to tag you on my work let me know.

Okay think I have stalled long enough. Here it is, my first story back from 3 year break.

JUST BREATHE-



"Excuse me, sir, you can't be up here." A female voice, strong, laced with exhaustion, mixes with the sounds of the hospital. Doctors are being paged, staff are going in and out of rooms, and machines are monitoring patients. All of it, white noise, too, Dean. Because he can't look away or tear his eyes from what is in front of him. Y/N is lying in a hospital bed, hooked up to a ventilator. What happened? How did it come on so strong and so fast? He had just seen you last week when he came through town on his way to his next hunt. Picking up research that you had done for him since Sam was working on another case in California. You were the best…no, are, you are the best researcher he knows…you have to get better; you can't…

"Sir! I will have to ask you to leave if you're not family. The ICU is only for families." The female voce, insistent on getting him to pay attention to her. Tired, she was just so damn tired of no one listing to her today; she had better things to do than police people about.

"How long has she been here?" Dean asks, his voice firm but slightly wavering. He can't look away, watching as the vent goes up and down, breathing for you. Y/N, come on, you have to pull through; I can't lose you, Dean thinks, trying his best not to break. He prayed to God if he thought it would help if he thought the ass would be listing.

"Sir, I can't give that information if you're not family." Dean looks away from you for a moment, noticing the nurse standing beside him. She is dressed in blue scrubs, her hair pulled back, and a mask on. He can tell she is on her last nerve with him, and he has to win her over. He can't leave you, not now. "So, are you family?" she asks again.

"Umm…" He knew he needed to lie. If he told her that you were just a friend, he would never get answers and would never get back to this floor again. It was dumb luck that he could get your room number out of the receptionist downstairs. He pulled himself together to give her his winning smile and wink. "She's my sister." Clearing his throat, he looked back to you.

The nurse looks down at the chart in her hand. "Miss. Moore didn't have a brother listed as next of kin, but then again, a neighbor brought her in." Looking back up to Dean, he doesn't respond. "How about we go somewhere a little more private to discuss your sister's condition?" She lightly grabs Dean by the shoulder and turns him away from the window and you.

********

Dean did his best to listen to the nurse, but all he really wanted to do was get back to you. It was driving him crazy that he couldn't do anything; this wasn't caused by a demon, monster, or anything in his wheelhouse. You were brought in about a day or two after he had seen you. Your neighbor had come over to borrow something and saw you in the window, passed out on the floor. COVID had hit you hard, and you just couldn't shake it; your lungs filled up so fast with fluids that you passed out.

That was a week ago; you had been in the hospital for a week and on a ventilator. The doctors feel that your body just needs time to fight off the infection.

"She seemed fine when I saw her last; how could this happen?" Dean questions, trying to be as respectful as possible without raising his voice and getting kicked out.

"COVID hits everyone differently; we really don't know why. Some people may never get it, and some…" Not finishing her statement, the nurse looks away from Dean.

"Can I go back and sit with her?" Dean asks, more like pleading with her. He just wants to ensure you're doing alright and stand watch until you wake up. He doesn't know what else to do.

"I am sorry, but no," the nurse replies as kindly as possible. Seeing that he will protest this, she quickly adds, "But, you can come back during visiting hours. You won't be able to go in the room; we have to keep it clean because of COVID, but you can see her from the window." Hoping this will be a compromise he can live with. She doesn't want him to get upset and have to call security and have him escorted out. She can tell he cares for her and is scared.

Dean will take it; he knows he has to. You're the strongest person he knows. You will get through this; you have to. "Alright, I guess I will come back then," Dean says, getting up from the table.

********

Walking out of the hospital, Dean calls Sam to tell him what is happening and that he wasn't leaving until you were back home. Screw the world, let the monsters run amuck, and let demons rain hell on earth; he had more important things to do. "I don't care, Sammy, I am not leaving again. This is the only number you can reach me at, and only you," he says, getting into the Impala and firing it up.

"Alright, Dean. I hear you. Do you want me to come? I am almost done here." Sam offers, knowing that Dean won't take him up on it.

"No, I am good, but thanks. You stay on the West Coast until the world calms itself down." Letting the engine run for a bit, Dean takes a second. This has been the longest they have been working apart. It's been hard on both of them, but at least Dean has you to talk to. He has been leaning on you more since Sam was in California. Could Dean have caused this? Was he asking too much of you?

"Dean, hey, you still there?" Sam breaks through his intrusive thoughts.

Clearing his voice, "Yeah."

"You know, she will get through this. She's going to be okay," Sam says, trying his best to reassure him and get him out of his head because even if they are miles apart, he knows his brother. Dean is blaming himself right now for something that he can't control.

“Yeah, I know… I just… what if I…..”

"No, don't think like that, and don't think you had anything to do with this happening." Sam quips back, knowing where his brother's thoughts are going, and he will not have him spiraling out.

"But I ask so much of her. You know she will never say no. Even when she has other things to do, she always drops everything when I ask for a favor. God, I am such a user…"

"No, you're not. Y/N is strong, and she said she would tell you if she didn't want to do something. She wants to help; she thrives on researching this stuff, and you know it." Sam states, "Come on, you know she would rather research lore or listen to one of your 'tales from the front lines,' as she likes to call them, any day of the week."

The thought of you saying these words to him as you patch him up, 'Alright, Dean, what tales to do we have this time?' or how your voice would be giddy when he called you about a case he found. "Yeah, you're right, Sam," Dean replies. Feeling a bit better after talking with Sam, he always knows how to keep him from spiraling too much.

"I know I am; now go get some rest. She's going to need you when she wakes up."

"Night brother"

After hanging up the phone, Dean didn't want to go to a hotel or bar, but he was now wired and needed to do something. Pulling out of the parking lot was second nature, and he found his way to your driveway.

Sitting there, looking at the modest, two-bedroom, two-bath house, he would consider a second home for as much time as he has spent there. It was odd to think about walking through that door and you not being there. When getting out of the car, the sound of the door opening and closing is the only noise that breaks up the silence of the night. Taking a few steps, Dean stops himself from knocking like he usually does. Habit, he thinks. Pulling his keys out, he flips until he finds the one for your house.

It was an argument you had won, not that he didn't want a key. Of course, he did, but he didn't want it to fall into the wrong hands should something happen.

"No, I don't need a key, Y/N," Dean protest, not wanting to have this conversation right now.

"Yes, you do; now take it." You say, holding out the key for him to take.

"I don't need it; you're always here. Why would I need to get into your place when you're not here?" he questions. Finishing off his beer, he gets up from the couch and heads toward the kitchen. "You want another one?" he asks, trying to change the subject.

You get up and follow him. "Don't change the subject, Winchester," you say, following him and sitting on a kitchen stool. What if I wasn't home tonight?"

Tossing the empty bottle in the recycle bin and turning to face her, he can tell by the severe look on your face that this is an argument that he won't win. But why make it easy on you. "But you were," giving you a smirk, he opens the fridge to pull out two more bottles. "Besides, where would you be on a Friday night? You have a hot date I don't know about?" he questions. Handing one of the bottles to you.

He struggles slightly to open the bottle with his left hand since his right is currently in a sling. After putting his shoulder back into place and stitching him up, you open the beer in your hand, hand it to him, and take the other one from him. "Maybe," you say cryptically, a twinkle in your eyes.

"Really? Didn't know you were dating anyone?" Dean is slightly put off by this. It's not that someone would want to date you; it's the opposite. You're beautiful, and he always wonders how you were still single after all this time. Intelligent and funny, any guy would be lucky to call you his. Heck, he would like to call you his.

"I am not," you say, putting him out of his misery and his slight spiral of another guy touching her, kissing her… But I could still be out. Do you want to be sitting out in your car waiting for me to get home?" you question, pushing the key towards him. "Just take the dam key. It's only a key. I am not asking you to move in with me."

If you asked him that, he would say yes in a heartbeat. But the reality of his life, what he and Sam do for a living, gives him pause to take the key. "I just don't want anyone else to get their hands on it."

"Who, like Sam? Of course, you can give a copy to Sam." You joke, knowing what he's getting at but trying your best to keep this conversation light.

"No, not Sam. I am thinking Crowley, another demon or monster, or worse, Lucifer. I would hate for anyone other than Sam or me to get their hands on this and come after you."

"Dean, that's not going to happen."

"But it could, you know it could."

Letting out a sigh, you decide to pull out the big guns to get him to take this damn key. "A key is not their first choice to get in. You have put up all the wards you could think of." You say, proving that you are as safe as possible. "Heck, you made me even get this thing." Snapping off your leather bracelet to show off the anti-possession tattoo. "and you know how much I hate needles." The black tattoo shows nicely against your light skin and hides the other barely visible scars.

"Yeah, I found out real quick that day. I think I still have scars on my arm from you digging your nails in," he jokes, bringing his hand up to his wrist to run his fingers around the tattoo and the scars he knows are there.

"Haha, that's real funny." You fake laugh. " Just take it, please. It will make me feel better if you have it." You do your best puppy dog eyes as you push the key closer to him.

Dean takes a moment before caving. "Alright, but I am only going to use it for emergencies." he conceits, taking his keys out and putting your house key on the ring with the rest.

Getting up from the stool, you smile at him, "Thank you, Dean," you say sweetly and hug him.

**

Dean shakes his head, trying to shake the thoughts from that night, as he shuts the door behind him. He stood in the entryway, just taking in the quietness of the house, holding his breath, waiting for you to come down the hallway, saying, ‘Dean, you look like shit; what were you up against this time? Let me get you patched up, and you can tell me all about it.’ Guiding him to the kitchen, you would pull the first aid kit and a beer from the fridge.

Watching these memories play out in front of him, it's not until he lets out a shaky breath that he had been holding that he feels the tears run down his face, "Fuck! Y/N, you got to get better, okay…." choking back, "I can't lose you." The thought of losing another important person in his life. Someone who should have a happy and long life and who, without them, Dean wouldn't be standing here today. He owes everything to you.

Dean can't bring himself to step past the entryway, feeling like an intruder. "I can't…" feeling pressure in his chest, he turns and walks out the door. Locking the door and making the short walk to his car, the pressure subsides once he is in the driving seat. Knowing he can't stay in the house. Too many memories of you and his dark thoughts will keep him up. He also can't put the car in drive and go to the motel just outside of town. It's like his body won't let him leave.

*******

Y/N POV

You were in the hospital for two weeks, and Dean was by your side, or somewhat outside your hospital room, every day, every hour he could be. At least that is what the nurse told you once you were awake. Your 'brother' Dean has been by your side. The first time they told you this, you looked confused, which caused concern from the staff.

"Your brother, Dean," the nurse says again, her voice laced with concern as she points to the window that looks into your room from the hallway.

You turn your head slightly, your body stiff from being in bed for so long, and the breathing tube just being taken out. There you see him, Dean Winchester, raising his hand to give you a short wave, and a look of relief washes over his face, which is covered with a slightly heavy five-clock shadow. You give him a smile and look back at the nurse. "Yeah, sorry, of course, he's my brother. Just didn't know anyone called him?" you reply, "Can I have some water?" you ask, you're throat feeling like sandpaper.

"Sure," the nurse says, filling a cup and handing it to you. "Well, the doctor will be in soon," she says, giving you a short smile and walking towards the door.

"Umm, can my brother come in?" you ask. Knowing that no matter what she says, Dean will make it in here one way or the other. The nurse hesitates. "It's just that I would like him to hear what the doctor says. I am still groggy, not sure I am going to remember everything he tells me," you add, hoping this will pull on her heartstrings just a bit.

Which does work, "Sure." she replies, giving you a smile and then walking out the door. She briefly talks to Dean before walking away, and Dean enters the room.

"Hey, sweetheart," Dean says, shutting the door behind him and walking towards you.

"Hey yourself," you reply. You try to sit up a bit more, but you struggle a bit.

Dean quickly gets to you. " Here, let me," he says, finding the remote for the bed, setting you upright, and then readjusting your pillows. "Good?" he asks once it looks like you're settled.

Feeling slightly embarrassed that he saw you like this, you’re sure you're a mess, bed hair, hospital gowns, and oh man…your breath has got to stink by now, right? Trying your best not to breathe out, "Yeah, thanks." you quickly reply. Dean sits in the chair next to your bed but doesn't say anything. Okay, guess you will start. "So brother, hum?" you quip.

He smiles at this and looks away from you to the bedding. "Yeah, I had to say something; otherwise, they would never let me back in." Then, looking back at you, a slight panic sets in that you might be mad at him for this small lie. " You're not mad, are you?" he asks.

"No, of course not," you reply, wanting to reassure him that everything is fine. This does, as relief washes over him a second time. You hold out your hand for him to take. "Just wonder what Sam will say about having a little sister, that's all. I am sure he will hate being the middle child," you joke.

Dean gives a short laugh: "Oh, Sammy will be all right with it. He will be happy to hear you're awake, is all." Dean's fingers rubbing your hand back and forth are nice.

"How did you know I was here?" you ask, trying to remember the day before you were brought in, but it's all a blur. Was he coming to see you? Was he working on a case?

"I was coming back through, and you had helped me with the case in North Carolina…" lowering his voice, even though you're in a private room," that Dinji." Dean recounts, seeing you not remember. He continues, "I stopped by your place, and your neighbor was out and said you were in the hospital."

None of that is registering at all, like last month, which is a blank slate. Fuck, what else are you not remembering? "And you have been here this whole time?" you ask, wondering what the state of the world must be like if he has taken himself out of saving the world for two weeks! Is Sam okay?

Dean's eyes, bright green, lock with yours, cocking his head slightly to the side, with slight confusion at your shock that he was here the whole time. "Of course, where else would I be? I wasn't going to leave you alone here," he says, a matter of fact.

You're about to reply to this, ask more questions, ask how Sam is, but before you can, the doctor enters the room. "Miss. Moore, welcome back," he says, looking at your chart and then at you and Dean. And this must be your brother?" he asks, holding his hand for Dean to shake.

Dean does, letting go of yours, the loss of him, his touch is apparent. "Hey, doc, when can I take my sister home?" Dean asks.

The doctor starts to talk, but you're not listening; your mind drifts to Dean. He put his life on pause for you? Wow, that's something, but you're sure he would do it for Charlie, Jody, Claire, or Alex, right? Yeah, of course. Dean sees you as family, which is what you are to him; that's what you will always be. Yes, you were close. He and Sam saved you from the vampire nest, explained everything about their world, and gave you a purpose.

You feel a slight pressure in your chest. Now that you're awake, how long will he stay before he leaves again?

"So I will get the nurse to start the discharge paperwork, and you guys should be out of there in a few hours," the doctor says. Giving you a smile.

Not hearing anything but that, you just smile back and look towards the window. You hear Dean thank the doctor, and he leaves the room. "nice guy," Dean says, filling up the silence.

"Yeah," you reply. You’re not sure what you are feeling; it's almost like a weight on your chest, pressure. Maybe it is COVID; it will be better once you get home. It has to, right?

******

You didn't know Dean could fuss over you more if he tried. He insisted that he be the one to wheel you out of the hospital, only after he made sure the car was pulled up as close to the door as possible so you didn't have to walk too far. Then, when he pulled into your driveway, he insisted he carry you the short walk to the front door.

"No, Dean, I can walk. My legs aren't broken; I had COVID, that's all." you quip back as he comes over to your side of the car to pick you up.

"The doctor said you shouldn’t over-exaggerate yourself, that's all," he replies, trying again to wrap his arms around your waist and pick you up from standing against the closed car door.

You block his hands again. As much as you would like his arms around you, have him cradle you; where is this coming from? You also don't want him to hurt himself, or God forbid the neighbors see him carrying you bridle style. "Yeah, walking the three feet to my front door is not going to kill me." This comment is like a punch in the gut for Dean; it's written on his face. Shit, was my COVID scare that much of an effect on him? But why? Trying to write your wrong, you try to play it off. "Come on, man, I have been on my back for two weeks and must move a little bit." You quip back. Playfully pushing him aside and walking towards the door.

You get to the door but realize you don't have your keys, you didn't have those, or your phone when you were brought into the hospital. You wait for Dean to come up behind you. He doesn't say anything, pulling out his keys; he opens the door and lets you walk in first. You shuck off your jacket and shoes and go to the living room. Sitting on the couch, you try to hide the sigh of exhaustions that you feel from the small activities you just did; but it slips past your lips and is not lost on Dean.

"Want me to make you some tea? You hungry?" Dean asks.

"No, I want you to tell me what's happened since I was in the hospital. Did all the evil in the world decide to take a break while I was out, and that's how you got to have some time off?" you question, motioning him to sit next to you on the couch.

Dean shrugs at this, "No. I just told Sam I was taking myself off the board, is all." he says casually.

"Taking yourself off the board? Hum, I didn't know you guys could do that," you ask, Giving him an intuitive look.

Dean is giving you nothing back, shaking his head, looking around the room, and clapping his hands together. He points towards the kitchen, "I am going to make that tea for you." He walks away before you can stop him, leaving you to your thoughts. Something else is happening, and you know who to call to get the truth out.

******

Making that call seem more complicated than usual since Dean didn't leave your side for anything. Three days, three days of hovering and mothering you, and as much as you care for Dean, and possibly secretly loved him. Let's face it, those chest tightening pains at the hospital, the loss of his touch was not COVID symptoms, it was your heart telling you what you already knew. You were in love with Dean Winchester, and the fact that he dropped everything for you made your head spin and feel like the most important girl in the world. But you are a realist, and Dean Winchester is out of your league. He sees you as the little sister he got settled with, not the girl he wants to kiss and do other things with.

On top of that, you are sure his opinions of you drop a few points since you found out really quick that to pass the time while he waited for you to wake up, he decided to clean your house from top to bottom. The sheer embarrassment when you found out had you want the couch to swallow you up right there. "Excuse me, you did what?" you ask, thinking you didn't hear him right when you ask; the following day, a book you usually had on your coffee table was now on the bookshelf that it was never on.

"I did some cleaning while you were…" Dean says, not finishing that statement while he grabs the few dishes off the coffee table and heads towards the kitchen. He never finishes that statement. Whenever he says it, he never says 'when you were in the hospital' or 'when you were sick.' After three days of the hanging statement, you get frustrated over that.

But knowing he cleaned your house, how clean is clean? Did he do your laundry? Yep! Did he clean under your bed and put stuff away on your nightstand? God forbid he did a deep clean in your closet—oh, the embarrassment. "Why?" you ask, now following him, waiting for an answer that you sure won't come.

Dean has his back to you, rinsing off the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher. "What? It's not a big deal. I had time, plus the nurse thought it was a good idea for you to come home to a clean hose." He says while wiping down the counter.

You try your best to breathe and calm down. Yes, all that is true, a clean house to come home too make sense. But having him go through your personal and private things, fuck, him cleaning your underwear. He will never look at you as desirable again, not like he did before. You look up from the floor to see him watching you, waiting for a reply. "thanks, I guess," you say, defeated. "I am going to go take a shower." You say, needing just a few minutes by yourself, shake off this feeling of rejection you know he doesn't realize he caused.

"You need some help?" he asks, approaching you and walking a step behind you.

You take a second, knowing again that he just wants to help, but God treats you like an old woman. Because you know that his offer of 'helping you out' in the shower does not imply sexy times; it's he saying he thinks you are weak and that you're going to get tired, fall, and hurt yourself. You get to the bathroom door. "No, I got it, thanks," you say, opening the door and shutting it before he can say anything.

*****

Dean POV

I know I am being overprotective, maybe even going overboard with not letting her do anything, and perhaps the deep clean was an overreach. But in my defense, I thought I could lose her, and if she was going to, no, when she was going to come home, I wanted it to be in a clean, COVID-free house.

I turn away from the bathroom door and walk towards the living room. I start to clean up, picking up the discarded blanket from my makeshift bed; even though she has a spare room, it's on the second floor away from her, and I want to be close in case she needs me in the night.

The rigging of my phone pulls me from my thoughts of her. Picking up, I see it's Sam. "Hey, what's up?" I ask, dropping the blanket and myself onto the couch.

"Just checking in, how's Y/N?"

"Good, still low energy, but I am just happy she’s walking and talking, even if I am annoying her."

"You, annoying her, I can't believe it," Sam says, with fake shock. "You know she can take care of herself; she has been doing that for some time now." Sam reminds me. Knowing that my hovering is coming for a place of love for Y/N, but it could be doing more damage than good.

"I know, it's just…" I pause briefly, looking back to see the closed bathroom door. "Sam, she just looked so helpless there lying in the hospital bed, hooked up to those machines…and there was nothing I could do…nothing that could save her…I just had to wait."

Sam knows that's not my strong suit, "I know, I get it, but maybe just ease off a little. I am sure it's making her feel like a burden, you doing everything for her."

"Yeah, you're probably right. I will try."

"I know I am." He clears his throat and paused briefly before asking what he knew I would not want to answer: "So when are you heading back to the bunker?"

I pause momentarily; the idea of leaving you hadn't crossed his mind. "Umm…" Hearing the door open, he looks to see you walking out of the bathroom and down the hallway to your room, wrapped in your navy-blue plaid robe, hair slightly damp from the shower. "Not sure yet, but I will keep you posted. I got to go." I say quickly, hanging up the phone. I know that she can take care of herself, but at the same time, I don't want to leave her again; what if I do and something happens, and there is no one here to save her again. Sam's right, though; I have to back off, or I am liable to smother her.

*****

Y/N POV (about a week later)

Something seems to have changed in Dean in the last few days. It was like the old carefree Dean was back. He hovered less, not watching my every move, and even went on a quick day trip to the bunker to pick up more books for me to read since I had read everything in my place twice, and if I was going to be stuck inside I wanted to do something productive. Granted, I had to ride shotgun on this trip, so although we got out of the house, I was still under his protective eye. But he wasn't babying me anymore; he cracked jokes, smiled, and even complained when I made him watch the same movie repeatedly.

Dean was going on a food run, and this was one outing he didn't let me go on. Too many people, could possibly get sick again, so he didn't want to risk it. But he also hated doing it, leaving you alone. "You're sure you're going to be fine," he asks again, standing in the doorway, you on the other side, trying your best not to push him out and lock the door.

"Yes, Dean, you'll be gone for an hour. I think I can survive." you quip, pushing him playfully, "Go, I promise, no running around the house with scissors or jumping on the bed. I will keep my butt on the couch until you get back."

Dean's worried face slightly softens, knowing that you will be fine, but that pit in his stomach—the thought of him walking out that door again and not having you in his sight—will never go away. "Okay, but call me if you feel off," he reminds you again.

"Yes, now go." You reply with a smile. Yes, he was getting on your nerves slightly, but you still loved the guy for it.

You watch as he pulls out of the driveway and down the road before you head inside. Walking to your room, you find your cell phone charging, and you quickly make the call you've been waiting to make since you got home.

He picked up on the second ring: "Y/N, everything alright? Dean texted me to say he was going on a food run. Do you need him? Are you not feeling well?…" Sam blurts out, a lengthy, run-on statement that has you slightly spinning.

Trying your best not to laugh at him. "Sam, calm down; I am good. I just wanted to talk to my friend. How are you?" you ask, wanting to ease into this discussion. Plus, you really did want to know how he was doing; ever since you came home, you only talked to Sam when Dean would call him and have him on speakerphone. Even then, Sam was instructed not to speak about cases he was working on. Dean had a theory that possibly COVID was stress-induced, but you know it wasn't.

"I am good, making my way back to the bunker. I have a case in Wisconsin, so I'm in your area. I was thinking of seeing you guys once it's done."

"Oh yes, please do, Sam. It's been ages since we've hung out together. I feel like a movie marathon is needed."

"Yeah, if you're up for it. Dean tells me you get tired easily. Is anything else not the same?"

"Umm…brain fog for sure; I lost all memory of the week before I went into the hospital. Some things don't taste the same. But honestly, Sam, can we not talk about me for a bit. Tell me about the case in Wisconsin; what are you hunting this time." You inquire, done talking about yourself, need a distraction, and avoid asking Sam what you want to know.

Sam, being the best friend, a girl could ask for, knew that a distraction from your symptoms was what you needed, and although it would be breaking his promise to Dean, he could hear it in your voice, the need for some kind of normalcy, at least what normal is considered for us. Giving you all the details, you can come to the same conclusion that it was a vengeful spirit and a simple salt and burn job is in order.

Once Sam is done talking about Wisconsin, a lull in the conversation forms, and you look at the clock to see Dean should be home soon. "Sam, can I ask you something?" You feel slightly nervous and try to figure out how to phrase your question.

"Of course, you can ask me anything."

Taking a breath, you wait a second before asking, "How was Dean when he found out I was sick? He said he 'took himself off the board' and has been hovering since I got home. He's gotten better, but those first few days, it was like he was a different person."

Sam can tell by the last statement that you're trying to bring some levity to an otherwise heavy question, a question that he is surprised you have to ask. taking a breath, he thinks about how to say, ‘You idiot, he loves you! and you love him!'

"I am glad to hear that he's lost up the reins a bit," giving a chuckle, "but honestly, Y/N, he was devastated. I know he's my big brother, and he tries his best to hide his emotions, but I could tell that night when he called to tell me what happened, he was scared. Scared that he was going to lose you, scared that he might have caused this to happen to you."

"How could he have caused COVID? I mean, I get he sometimes can have a big ego, but, come on, he can't cause an infection."

"No, but he thinks he has been asking too much of you, wearing you down. I can't say whether he's right or wrong. You and I know you occasionally burn the candle at both ends."

"Yeah, I am trying to get better at that. But Sam, he was treating me like I was 90 years old. He wouldn't let me do a thing around here. And did he tell you he cleaned my house—my whole house—before I got home? I mean everything."

"Oh man, I am sure you were not happy to hear about that."

"Your damn right. I wasn't."

"Look, it's not my place to say, but I will tell you this, remember that night when you and I got a little tipsy, and you might have let slip your feelings for a certain green eye hunter?"

Fuck, of course, he remembers that night; that was right after you had helped him and Dean take down a wraith, and Dean was out on a beer run. "Yeah, you asked me why I never seem to be dating anyone, and I said I can't be with the one guy I want, so why be with the wrong guy at all."

Sam waits for you to connect the dots, and although you're not sitting in front of him, Sam has a feeling you're making the connections: "Let's just say Dean has the same idea, and he has his eye on a hazel eye researcher that he thinks he can't have."

You're about to protest Sam's statement that Dean has no feelings for you other than sibling love, but before you can, you hear the front door open and Dean yelling, "Honey, I am home," sweetly.

"I've Got to go, Sam. Talk soon," you say, and hang up before he can reply.

*********

Sam's words kept rolling around in your mind all night, distracting you from Dean. During dinner, you were quiet, letting him lead the conversation and not making it known when he mentioned Sam might be stopping by in a day or two that you two had talked earlier. "Oh, okay, sounds good." you responded, still thinking, 'He has his eye on a hazel-eye researcher that he thinks he can't have.'

Dean went for girls that were the complete opposite of you, blonde, curves in all the right places without an ounce of fat to be seen, the girl that guys walk across fire for, not the girl that they run into fire to get away from. Not the girl who is socially awkward around strangers, who can put her foot in her mouth easier than anyone, and who has more of a backstory than is worth mentioning. No, Dean goes for simple, noncomplex girls, which makes sense, given his life is entirely of danger and complexity. Why go for a girl to add to it.

Dean can tell your mind is elsewhere, and he is slightly worried that you're lost in your head or that this might be another symptom. "Hey, space cadet, you with me? Because if you're not watching the movie, I will gladly turn it to something we haven't seen twice this week," he jokes, hoping to make fun of the situation.

His voice shakes you from your thoughts, and you look over at him; his eyes have just a hint of worry to them. The blanket across both of you, him in a simple white t-shirt and sleep bottoms, you in gray leggings, tank top, and open cardigan. Perfection, you and Dean cozy up on the couch, not a care in the world, him teasing you about your love of disaster movies, and you forcing him to watch the same one repeatedly, and he does; why? Because he loves you. He loves you like a sister, a friend, someone he cares for, just not someone he’s IN love with.

"yeah, sorry, I think I am just going to go to bed." You shake off that last statement: he's not IN love with you. God, you really know how to cut yourself deep, don't you? Getting up from the couch, you grab your water glass and head towards your room.

Dean gets up with you, "here, let me help you," he says, walking around the couch and placing a hand on your lower back.

This is the last straw, the final statement of his wanting to help you, again treating you like you're helpless. "Stop! Just stop!" you yell, feeling yourself boil with rage you knew you had been keeping at bay. You know his hovering is with the best intentions, but for you, it's blurring the lines between what you want from him and what you know he can give you. Your mind won't let it be accurate even after what Sam told you today.

Dean stops his hands from touching you, standing still like he is frozen in time. "Y/N, hey, I just want to help. You look tired, is all." His voice is soft and sweet.

He’s trying to placate you, like he would a child or grandparent, "Dean, I am fine; I can walk ten feet to my room on my own and not get lost or fall down, okay!" You lock eyes with him and see his face fall, and in that moment, you know that he's hurt; you've only ever yelled at him when you were injured and need him to find you. But that was screaming for him, not at him. You know that you should feel bad for your outburst, you do, but you know that this is not real, that this ideal version of him and you playing house can't last.

"What is wrong? Is this another symptom? Did something happen while I was out?" he asks, wanting to understand your sudden change since this morning. You start walking away from him, wanting to get into your room and away from him, knowing he will get the truth out of you. You don't want to hear his excuses or him placate you even more about why he and you will never be a thing.

You turn halfway down the hall to look back at him, standing there watching you. "No! It's not! I am a capable woman who can take care of herself. Stop treating me like I am dying, Dean! You saved me once; that should be enough for you." Turning back, you reach your door, hand on the handle to open it, when you hear Dean.

"What does that mean?" Dean questions, his footsteps pad against the hardwood floors, standing right behind you; you can feel his breath on your neck, "I know you are capable; you are the strongest woman I know." his voice low, sending shivers down your body, you feel his hand on your arm, turning you around to face him. He sees your tear-stain cheek, "Fuck, Y/N, talk to me; what is going on? Why would you say saving you once was enough?"

Your eyes, trying and failing to hold back the tears, are now on the brink of spilling out. He needs to just let you go. You lean back against the door, knowing he took that little movement as exhaustion, and you are. You are exhausted by talking about this repeatedly, tired that he just can't let you leave, won't give up, and will go back to seeing you only when he needs something. He needs to go back to his life and let you put him back into the box of things that you don't let yourself have. Taking a breath, you run your hands over your face, wiping the tears and pushing them back inside. Putting on your brave face, "You know, Sam will be here in two days. I think you should go back with him. Go back to the bunker, and 'put yourself back on the board.'"

Throwing his line back at him, telling him he needed to return to work and that you would be fine without him. Will you, though? In time, maybe? You turned the door handle and stepped into the room, never breaking your eye contact with him. He shut the door in his face and flipped the lock, not giving him a chance to speak, knowing that he would not force his way in.

To be continued

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

Writerly Question Tag

Back from my self-mandated social media break to respond to tags from @urnumber1star, @cowboybrunch, @fortunatetragedy and @the-golden-comet :')

About You

When did you start writing?

Damned if I know. My parents told me that I used to tell my toys stories at bedtime back when I still slept in a cradle, though (I started talking at 6months)

Are the genres/themes you enjoy reading different from the ones you write?

Very different, actually. I love reading sci-fi and almost never touch horror, but I've written tons of horror and only 1 sci-fi. Plus, I hage reading slice of life.

Is there an author (or just a fellow writer!) you want to emulate, or one to whom you’re often compared?

I'm a fan of Mark Lawrence's writing (he's super underrated), and though I'd rather not emulate someone directly, I sure wouldn't mind if someone compared me to him.

Can you tell me a little about your writing space(s)?

The walk to school, the busses and trains I take, walking my dog. Basically on the go.

What’s your most effective way to muster up some muse?

Go out and live my life. Eventually I'll see something cool and insist upon turning it into a short story.

Did the place(s) you grew up in influence the people and places you write about?

Yeah, it's basically made me physically incapable of writing anyone other than city ppl.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing, and if so, do they surprise you at all?

Err... The horrors persist but so do I is a personal favourite among my one-shots. And platonic male-female relationships is another darling of mine.

Your Characters

Would you please tell me about your current favorite character? (Current WIP, past WIP, never used, etc.)

I literally almost never talk about him, but Hans-el, the Spirit Emperor, chews my heart up and spits it out on a regular basis. I'm currently writing a short story from his pov, which I may or may not try to submit for publishing, so I guess look out for that when it happens?

Which of your characters would you be friends with in real life?

Err- I think Hash, Dave and I would be buddies. They're probably the only ones, though.

Which characters would you dislike the most if you met them?

Everyone else. Iraela would get mocked relentlessly by me, Katherine and I would but heads immediately, and I would cheerfully start a gossip war with Luna. And yeah, I would get my ass kicked in every above fight, but that's never stopped me before.

Tell me about the process of coming up with your characters?

They show up whenever the plot demands it, and then headlock me until I write more about them. Alternatively they infiltrate my dreams and haunt me.

Do you notice any reoccurring themes/traits in your characters?

I like people who destroy themselves in blazes of flaming triumph. Also headstrong bitchy women, because I am one.

How do you picture your characters?

I don't lol. My mind just doesn't do the whole 'mental image' thing. I can hear them though.

Your Writing

What’s your reason for writing?

I have nothing better to do with my life.

Is there a specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating coming from your readers?

If they like something I did with my writing (technique, phrasing, etc) and mention it, I will melt with joy.

How do you want to be thought of by those who read your work?

I just want to be heard.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Description. I don't really do visual descs, but I love nailing voices to the wall and dissecting them.

What have you been frequently told your greatest writing strength is by others?

Description, dialogue (or internal monologue), and gore

How do you feel about your own writing?

I go through the five stages of grief with it: 'oh I'm finally done', 'i love it so much', 'hey maybe I should edit it some more to make it better', 'oh fuck it actually sucks', 'okay nevermind let's never think of it again'

If you were the last person on earth and knew your writing would never be read by another human, would you still write?

I'd be dead too quickly to write, honestly. But if I survive, fuck yeah. I'll scrawl my words across a meadow and scream it from the sky.

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely what you enjoy?

Every now and then I cringe from how weird my writing is, but it always passes.

Tagging @just-emis-blog, @drchenquill, @novel-nook-blog, @thecoolerlucky, @the-letterbox-archives

@kaylinalexanderbooks, @honeybewrites, @orions-quill, @vampirelover890, @glitched-dawn and open tag!

[nihilnovisubsole]

the writer interview game

tagged by no one, but i saw @arthoure doing it, so that's as good an excuse as any

when did you start writing?

when didn't i?

are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

i mainly read nonfiction, because i'm always getting myself into some mess where i have a cool idea that i can't execute properly without research. i just finished mary beard's twelve caesars, which is about how roman emperors have become the blueprint for how the west depicts power in art. you know, AK-brand stuff.

if i'm reading fiction and i like the genre, i always want to write it myself at some point. reading and writing are kind of an audience-participation thing for me. i'd love to do more spy stories, or something like elizabeth peters' egypt mysteries, or some sea-soaked victorian intrigue. it's all a love letter to something i read or watched or played.

is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

i'm alone in the middle of the ocean in the splintered fishing boat of third-person objective that hemingway left behind, and that's where i'll stay. nobody's been wild enough to actually compare me to him, because i'm not one-fiftieth as skilled, but i'll always wish i were. in brief, he gets to the point. he tells you what happened, because his stories are about humans doing things that result in consequences, which is basically, to my mind, how the world works. i simply believe that if i'm not able to convey how a character feels without dipping into internal POV, i'm not doing a good enough job. movies only have a script and music and visuals and the body language of the actors, and they pull it off all the time.

i mean, okay, i'm being dramatic. i don't hate internal POV. use it! be excellent at it! i want to see how far i can get without it. let me do my one-armed push-ups here.

can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

it's my white wood childhood desk in my tiny bedroom with my 11-year-old desktop on it. very romantic, i know. my work-from-home machine is in the dining room. i fantasize about having one of those book-lined studies one day, but i have to be able to afford a house in the place where i want to live first!

what’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?

i've been telling the same old joke about my method for years: "i don't have a muse, i have a hundred sooty workers in a coal mine." writing for money as an adult has not given me the luxury of waiting until i get inspired or feel like doing it. inspiration is one percent. the other 99 is knuckle-down discipline. anything i've ever finished, i only finished because i grit my teeth through it.

for work writing, it's easy. "they're paying you for the privilege of contributing to this project." for personal writing, it's more existential. "what will you have to show for yourself?"

are there any recurring themes in your writing? do they surprise you?

here's another, fresher joke that i told a teammate yesterday: my method for creating characters is to take some deep, personal neurosis or question, then give it a hairstyle and outfit. make of that what you will!

what is your reason for writing?

when it comes down to it, i just think it'd be a shame if i didn't. i'll be 32 next month. i have probably 27 years of ideas kicking around, and i would be disappointed if all of them died with me. in that respect, it's really childlike. i want to be heard. if somebody hears my voice through my writing, i'm less lonely. i feel connected to them.

i wish i could tell deep truths about humankind, but maybe that'll come later. it'll have to come later if i want my work to mean anything, right?

what do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

i don't know! if nothing else, i have a lot of fun carving out characters with fully-formed, distinct identities. of course they have things in common, because my taste leads me to certain places, but i want them to stand apart from each other. they should have their own discrete atmospheres and themes.

how do you feel about your own writing?

no time to dwell on that. if i start thinking about whether i'm good or bad, i'll get too self-conscious to continue, and what am i gonna do? not write? back to it!!

also if you see this ur tagged, sorry i don't make the rules

[s0xthef0x]

Theoretically Speaking

Ness accidentally stumbles into the life of Mike Schmidt, and in all honesty? He doesn't mind staying.

When a trip to the mall goes awry, Ness finds himself injured and in the arms of a security guard. With no friends or family to turn to during his recovery, Mike Schmidt enters the picture to lend a hand.

(Split/Alternating POVs)

SEE MASTER POST

CHAPTER 2

Mike had no problem helping Ness after he broke his leg, but now he's starting to get far more involved than he anticipated.

MIKE

Mike cursed under his breath. He knew he had enough money, and he knew it was there in his pocket, but he couldn't fight the illogical fear that one day, the little amount that he had to his name would disappear into thin air. Luckily, there was another quarter in his pocket. Mike rapped his knuckles against the box of the payphone while he waited.

"Hello?" as Max answered, Mike could hear the TV and the faint thumping of a hand searching the remote.

"Max?"

"Mike?"

Mike sucked in a breath. "I'm gonna be late again. Something came up."

"Oh, that's fine."

"I don't have the money to pay you for tonight but I'll get it to you as soon as I can-"

"- seriously, Mike. I don't mind," Max reassured in a voice that almost sounded demanding. In a sweet way.

"Thank you. It means a lot-"

"Don't worry about it.” She sounded eager, probably because she was wanting to get back to whatever she was watching.

"Thanks again." 

The double doors swung open behind him. Mike hung up the phone as Ness emerged along with a nurse pushing his wheelchair. Mike heaved a relieved sigh when the nurse followed them out of the building and into the parking lot. He wasn't sure how many times he would be willing to pick up a grown man.                                                           ***

Mike's radio was half-busted. It usually worked well enough, except for the times it chose not to. This was one of those times. He was fine with the silence. Radio or not, he enjoyed driving. It was the only time during the day when he could fully unwind. But not this time. Not with a stranger in the backseat.

The back was the only place where Ness could fit comfortably with his cast. Besides maybe the trunk. Mike had considered taking on a gig as a taxi driver a few years back, and this was probably the closest he would get to the experience.

Everytime he took a glance in the rear view mirror, all he could think was the way the doctor had said "Mr. Sansfield." Why the fuck did he have to say it like that? 

"Shit,” Ness said under his breath. “What am I gonna do about my car. . ." It was clear that he was just thinking out loud, but the silence of the car made it difficult to ignore.

"You could get it towed," Mike suggested.

"I don't know."

"I know a guy. He gets the job done, and cheap." Mike gave the dash an endearing slap, acknowledging the rather unkempt state of his car. "I would know."

Ness chuckled. "I'll look into it."

Their banter continued throughout the drive, occasionally interrupted by Ness cutting in to give directions. It didn't take long until Mike recognized the area. It was just a few miles down from his old apartment, where he and Abby lived before moving into the house. Sometimes he missed it. It was more cramped and the neighbors were loud, but at least it had fully-functioning appliances and a lack of water damage.

"This is the place?" 

"14B," Ness confirmed.

Mike parked the car. His hands stayed on the wheel as he took a pause, internally repeating to himself Just get it over with. He got out of the car and opened the back passenger door. Ness's overly-friendly smile quickly confirmed that he was dreading this just as much. Mike extended an arm, which Ness then used to prop himself up. Mike wrapped Ness's arm around his shoulders to help him keep steady as Ness got a hold of the crutches. 

Ness smiled to himself like he was proud for not falling on his face. "I think I got it."

Mike continued walking alongside Ness as he clumsily made his way to his apartment door.

"I really appreciate everything." Ness leaned his shoulder up against the door to support his weight while he searched his pockets for his keys. His expression was bright and genuine, yet he kept his eyes down, focused on his pockets. "Honestly, I don't even know what to say."

Mike nodded as he tucked his hands into his jacket. "Don't worry about it." 

"If I can return the favor, let me know. Seriously, I owe you one-" as Ness finally withdrew his keys, they immediately slipped from his hands and plummeted down to the welcome mat. Ness closed his eyes and grimaced in spite of himself. His voice had a bit of raspiness to it this time, like he had completely given up on not sounding tired. "Do you mind?"

Mike was already reaching down before he finished the question. With a thin smile, he dropped the keys back into Ness’s open palm.

"Thanks. . . again," Ness said through a hoarse chuckle. He pushed the door open and hobbled inside. He managed, with minimal struggle, to flip some switches to turn on the lights.

Mike stared into the apartment from the doorway. "Are you here by yourself?" 

"Yeah.”

Mike felt a pang in his chest. He had dealt with his fair share of medical emergencies, but never on his own. He was caught off guard in how Ness continued to carry himself in such a casual, almost care-free manner.

"What was the name of that towing company, again?" 

Ness fetched a notepad and pen and slid them across the counter. Mike popped off the cap of the pen and jotted down the phone number. He paused after dropping the pen. His fingers twitched as he considered adding another number, but he refrained. He slid the notepad back to Ness.

Ness caught the notepad under his palm. "Thanks," he sighed through a tired smile. 

Mike made his way back to the door as he forced his mouth into what he hoped would look like a more genuine smile. "Don't mention it."

Mike didn't say anything else before closing the door. There was nothing else that needed to be said. He did what he had intended to do. He got it over with. 

He flinched when he felt a drop of rain on his cheek. The drop was followed by a downpour. Mike's walk turned into a jog. He thanked God for the rain. It was a good enough excuse to ignore his impulse to go back.

NESS

Once morning came, Ness quickly discovered that getting out of bed might be worse than everything else he would soon struggle to do on a daily basis. 

He took his time to sit up and pull himself free from the blankets. Once he was upright, he sat and stared at the wall. He jolted when he heard the phone ringing. He didn't make it in time before the call went to voicemail. 

"Hey, Ness. I was curious to know when you were going to give me a call back. We've been understaffed and we really can't afford your absence any-"

"Hey, Rich," Ness croaked into the receiver. 

"Ness," Richard responded in a snarky, satisfied tone, "how are you doing?"

"My leg is broken." 

"I understand. What do you suppose we do about that?"

"I don't know." Ness sat on the edge of his bed and stretched his good leg. "I guess I was going to ask you the same question." He braced himself before forcing himself to continue. "I won't be able to wait tables for a few months."

There was an uncomfortable pause.

"I see."

"Is there any way I could work the register or something for the time being?” 

Richard still wasn’t saying anything. 

“Please,” Ness said, gripping the phone tighter in his hand. “Could you help me out?"

There was another pause. It was a pause that made Ness dread the answer he was about to receive. 

"We'll see what we can do."

In other words: no. Ness put down the phone and collapsed back down into bed. He wasn't ready to face the reality that was unemployment. Temporary or not, there was no way he could make it three months without a paycheck. One month was doable, maybe. . . not three months.

Sunlight shone through the blinds that were still drawn in his window. He didn't want to get up to open them. He almost preferred to stay cooped up in the dark, like a creature burrowed deep in a cave. At least animals got to hibernate without having to worry about bills, or food, or rent. . . Ness wasn't as fortunate. He was out of options.

       

MIKE

Mike wished he had remembered to turn off his alarm clock. It was rare for him to have a day off on the weekend, but he somehow always found a way to sabotage it.

He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. Evergreens and a blue-gray sky stared back at him. The Nebraska poster was beginning to sag now that the old scotch tape was peeling. It would inevitably fall down in the middle of the night and wake him in his sleep, and it was even more likely to happen at a time when he would finally make a break-through. . . He would finally catch up with the car, put the license plate to memory, or better yet, he would finally see the man's face- only to wake up, back at square one. Mike's blood boiled at the thought of it.

Mike didn't want to spend the morning thinking about it, knowing that every ounce of his spare time was already dedicated to the effort. He needed to take a break from it. Just for one day.

Today was for Abby. It was that time of year when things got a little tougher for the both of them. It was Mother's Day weekend. On any other occasion, Abby wasn't bothered by the memory of their parents. She hadn't been old enough to retain much memory of them at all. It was when May and June rolled around that it would almost get to her. Mike loathed the concept of national holidays dedicated to parenthood. Half of the miserable assholes on this planet didn't deserve the recognition. It was all just bullshit invented by greeting card companies.

It got better over the years. Mike and Abby found ways to turn the holidays into their own thing; their very own and much cooler bi-annual holiday. 

Mike didn't bother waking Abby up. It was her day off too. Besides, there was a good enough chance that she was already awake and coloring in her hidey tent. It annoyed him sometimes that she could jump out of bed so easily- and without an alarm clock.

Mike stopped by the kitchen window. He stared intently at the clouds, daring them to try raining again. Despite Mike's attempt to clear the sky through sheer will, he watched as the first couple of raindrops tapped against the window.

He hadn't even turned on the stove by the time Abby appeared in the hallway. She was already dressed in her red overalls and a brand-new sweater that Mike bought the previous week, thanks to an early paycheck and the help of an employee discount.

"Morning." He greeted her with the wave of a plastic spatula.

Abby grinned. "Good morning." She stood still in the doorway with her arms folded behind her back. She was obviously trying to suppress some giggles but was doing a terrible job of it.

Mike watched her with a suspicious raise of an eyebrow while she settled into a seat at the table. He continued working on the pancakes and pretended not to notice Abby's obvious scheming.

"You excited for today?"

Abby nodded vigorously. Her smile grew wider when Mike finally presented a fork and a plate of chocolate chip pancakes. He turned back to the stove to get started on his own breakfast when Abby sat up in her chair. 

"I've got something!"

"Hm?"

She placed a piece of paper face-down on the table. Mike looked down. "Wow. Paper," he said. Abby rolled her eyes. "Pick it up!"

Mike heaved an over-exaggerated sigh as he picked up the paper and turned it over. It was a folded piece of construction paper covered in crayon and marker, one of those card templates that teachers hand out for holidays. The printed word "mother" was scribbled over, now leaving the words Happy Brother's Day.

"I made it at school," Abby said. She got to work devouring her breakfast. Now that she had delivered the card, she didn't appear to care all that much about it. Her attention had moved on to pancakes.

Mike swallowed and loosened his grip as he realized how hard he was clutching the paper. He turned away. Abby already knew that he appreciated the gesture, so obviously it wasn't necessary for her to see him get all weird and emotional. 

A burning smell reminded him that he was still in the middle of cooking. Mike quickly flipped the remaining pancakes, then leaned against the counter to look at the card a little longer. The fridge was already covered top to bottom, but he managed to find a spare magnet to place the card front and center.  For the first time in a while, he couldn't help but smile just a little.

***

"Seatbelt," Mike said before shifting the car into reverse. He kept his foot on the break until he heard the faint "click" of Abby's seatbelt.

"What's this?"

Mike glanced over his shoulder to see Abby holding none other than the Macy's bag. That was it. It was the thing he knew he had forgotten last night. He bit back a curse.

"Who's this for?" Abby picked up the box of perfume to get a closer look.

"No one- '' Mike snatched it from her hands, shoved it back in the bag, and dropped it in the passenger seat. He turned back to the wheel and backed the car out of the driveway. "I mean. . . don't know. It's not mine."

"It looks fancy." Abby kicked her feet back and forth. "Is it for a girl?"

"I don't know," he repeated, "I'm holding it for a friend."

"You have a friend?"

It was a genuine, innocent question, but Mike still felt a rise of melancholy in his chest. Kids knew the truth, the kind that adults either suppress or live blissfully unaware of. Abby seemed to be especially gifted in that regard, to put it lightly.

"No," he said.

"Oh." Abby tucked her hands under her legs and stared out the window. After a moment or two, she looked back at him with a growing smile. "Do you have a giiirlfriend?"

Mike set his jaw and focused on the road. It wasn't worth arguing about. He took a few breaths to try and dial back his rising anger. He couldn't explain his sudden sensitivity to their usual amount of back and forth sibling-teasing. Mike took a glance in the rearview mirror. Abby's smile had faded. He sighed and shook off the rest of his temper.

“So where to first?”

***

Abby was certain that Mike was trying to cover up a secret, forbidden relationship or something. She insisted on going to the door with him. Mike started to consider leaving her in the car, and he probably would have gone through with it if he hadn't recalled the time he accidentally locked the keys inside the car with Abby back when she was a toddler. He nearly broke into a cold sweat just thinking about it.

Mike grabbed the Macy's bag in one hand and Abby's hand in the other. "This is only gonna take a minute," he said to Abby, but mostly to himself.

They made their way to the building. Mike searched his memory for the apartment number. He could only hope that he remembered right. He knocked against door 14B and took a step back onto the 'welcome' mat. Abby busied herself by jumping up and down in a puddle.

Mike could hear footsteps from inside, followed by a long beat before the doorknob turned. Ness looked both confused and surprised until his eyes fell on the bag in Mike's hand.

"Oh my god," Ness laughed, "how does this keep happening?"

"Luck, I guess," Mike answered dryly. He offered the bag. Ness took it.

Abby looked up at Ness under the hood of her raincoat. "Are you Mike’s friend?"

Mike suppressed an annoyed grunt. He squeezed her hand as a way of saying "time to go." Abby wasn't getting the message.

Ness smiled as he glanced at Mike, then back at Abby. "Well uh. . .” he struggled to find a response “I'm Ness.”

"How do you know my brother?"

Mike shifted his jaw and averted his gaze, waiting for Abby to lose interest. He could never predict where she would place her enthusiasm in any given event. How could meeting a random guy be more appealing to a ten-year-old than overpriced candy and an extra large slushee?

"I hurt my leg pretty bad at the mall and Mike helped me out." Ness looked back up at Mike, his expression turned warm and genuine. Mike didn't know what else to do but shrug. "Thanks for getting this back to me, by the way," Ness nodded to the bag and chuckled, "as if I haven't thanked you enough already."

Mike didn't like the exchange of thanking or being the one to receive the "thanks". It was stupid to state the obvious. If someone does you a favor, it should be a given. Regardless, Mike said "you're welcome."

There was a long moment when the two of them just stood there and exchanged courteous smiles, with nothing left to say. 

Mike was desperate for an escape route so he said the first thing he could think. "Is there anything else you need?" It was more of a rhetorical question, but regret began to settle in when Mike realized that Ness was actually considering it.

"Actually. . ." Ness heaved a sigh. "I need groceries. Desperately," he smiled apologetically, "is there any way that you could pick some up for me later this week? I'll pay you back, obviously."

There was no way he could say no. Not without feeling like a dick. "Sure.” Mike paused, hesitating. “Could I get your number?”

As to be expected, Abby had come prepared. She pulled out a sticker-covered notepad, a sparkly gel pen, and offered them with a smile. Mike forced his grimace into a smile as he took the pen and paper and jotted down his number. They passed the notepad back and forth until they both held a strip of paper.

"I'll see you," Mike said.

Ness smiled and nodded. "You too."The door closed. Mike sighed at the thought of having another thing to do on top of work and his usual errands. Abby on the other hand appeared to be pleased with herself in making a new friend.

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

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MASTER POST

If you don’t want to wait on updates of the revision on this blog, you can binge the original on Ao3 or wattpad ;)

[randomgooberness]

This is in reference to the one post where Gordon gets all embarrassed for talkin like a kid (and maybe I missed something) But does Freemind sign "sorry", or say it out loud? I'm so curious if ya'll have a reason for how or why Mind signs, or the fact that Gordon can even UNDERSTAND it !!

(ask is referencing this post)

TYSM FOR THIS ASK! WE HAVE A LOT TO SAY ON IT LMAO. @shineyfish 's answer: MIND SIGNS IT HE LOVES LANGUAGES!!! there's lots of points in Freeman's Mind where he speaks in different languages or references shit to do with that so it's a big hc of mine that he knows how to speak a bunch of different languages. Can't have prior potentially talking shit about him, and you can't talk shit about him if he always knows what you're saying! Hilariously to me though is that he Canonically doesn't know Morse code. Sign language in particular I feel like he'd know because it's a language where you don't need to speak to use it. That's perfect for anything where you need to be silent, for example, being in Panama with your buddy Eddie and you don't want to get caught.

My answer:

From Gordons POV, in my headcanons, he grew up learning sign language because of his autism- it made it easier for him to communicate nonverbally, especially because he was mostly mute for the first few years of his life(to which when he was like 7 or 8 he switched to never shutting up LMAO). Gordon couldn't actually understand that specific moment where Mind signed, because he wasn't facing him and was moving, so he didn't really see it- just a bit of movement(hence why he's confused in the comic). However, there IS a scene that took place a day or so prior(in act 1, that comic is in early act 2) that had them using it. I shared a small screenshot of the scene because it was really funny to me, but Ace agreed to let me edit it up and post the full segment here! Have a treat :D

This takes place after they get outside for the first time and run from the airstrikes- and go into the vents with the skeleton and the sweet voice.

WARNING FOR: ableism(internalized and external) and (technically)self-harm

"It can't be THAT hard to fly a fuckin plane!"

Mind laughed, half joking with that as he moved forward. 

It didn't take long until he was whining again.

"Why are so many people trying to kill me?? I'm awesome! Are they jealous?"

He didn't have enough bullets for all of them at the rate they were going at. The military should give peace a chance, or at least stand still.

"I'm calling dibs on the med station."

"Go ahead," Gordon chuckled. "Yeah, I think they're just jealous of you. They uh. They think the Science Team is too sexy to live." He wheezed.

"YES!"

Mind hooked himself up the the med station, silently begging the thing for what he wanted.

The med station, checking his vitals and seeing he wasn't mortally injured, did not give him any morphine.

"NO!"

He rested his head against the thing as it appropriately treated his more minor injuries. He didn't want to say he was getting desperate, because he wasn't, and if you thought that you were wrong, but... It was hard to be sober around this place.

He laughed joylessly.

"They've got it all wrong. We're actually too sexy to die."

"Exactly!" Gordon laughed, clapping his hands. "Let's uh, c'mon, Bubby I- dude what are you charging in the HEV suit station." 

"My MP3 player." Bubby said.

"What?" 

"Don't tell anyone~!" 

"...Okay," Gordon wheezed. "Is that what's playing the Russian speaking?" 

"The what?" Bubby looked...genuinely confused by that question. "No?" 

"What speaking?" Dr. Coomer tilted his head. Gordon sighed. 

"...Nothing. Let's move on." 

Whatever the fuck Gordon was talking about, Mind was a little concerned about it. Being overly Paranoid that you're seeing things can be good when you need to look for enemies, but hearing things that aren't there? That could be a problem.

Whatever. It wasn't too much of a problem right now, and they still had hallways to go through for a second time. He never wants to look at a hallway ever again. His headache was a little worse, and now that the noise was muffled he had a ringing in his ears. 

"Why do you get an MP3 player?? And why does the HEV station charge it??"

"I want to listen to my tunes," Bubby said. "The HEV station charges anything." 

"I use it for my bionic body!" Dr. Coomer nodded. 

Gordon rounded over to a vent nearby. From it, odd humming and whistling could be heard- alien sounding. Like the Sweet Voice. He pulled out his gun and headed inside. Mind heard it too, flinching. 

"...No. no, it's dead, we watched the bitch get torn apart by the doors, there's no way it survived that. I'm either just imagining that, which is concerning, or mistaking the sound..." 

He didn't seem to be talking to anyone, although kept his gun ready as he spoke. 

If nothing could kill that- that thing, then... "We really are fucked."

"No...No, I'm hearing it too, man," Gordon muttered. He was shocked that this vent was big enough to stand in, and walked cautiously. "...Maybe there's more like him here? I mean, it's called the Black Mesa Sweet Voice- it might...I dunno. We'll see. Maybe it's friendly."

"I doubt that, if Mall-cop was anything to go off of, it'll be irritating at best."

Following close behind Gordon, gun at the ready, he could feel his heartbeat. Something about the mere thought of seeing that thing again sent a spike of fear through him.

"At worst? I don't think I want to know."

"Yeah," Gordon laughed. "I'm tryin' uh. To be an optimist. Sucks." 

"That's the problem, optimism gets you nowhere in the long run. At some point, you need to cut your losses and start breaking shit."

"It sounds, friendly," Tommy spoke up. 

"Oh, right- you can read it.” Gordon perked up, looking at the taller scientist. “What's it saying right now?" 

"Umm..." Tommy tried to focus. "I-I dunno, I can't really tell without the- without the colors." 

"Oh, okay. We'll see in a bit, then." 

They rounded a corner, and Gordon noticed a figure. 

"Wait for my word, do not shoot." 

A flash from a camera behind them. 

"Don't take pictures flash photography scares him."

They got a little closer, and the figure was still hard to see in the dark. 

"...Hello?" Gordon called. 

A small buzz emitted from it, and then a few lower ones, purple. Gordon got closer, and sucked air between his teeth when he noticed it was a fucking skeleton. 

"...Do you know what that is?" He whispered to Tommy, who shrugged.

As they turned the corner, Mind kept his grip on his gun, assuming it to be an army recruit. He couldn't make out a weapon, but he wasn't taking any chances on that. 

He didn't believe his eyes when he saw it properly.

Option one, he was hallucinating. This was bad for the obvious reasons, but he was skeptical on that because the others were clearly seeing it too.

Option two, there was a real, living, sweet voice using skeleton in front of him. This was almost worse, because it immediately made him worry about Benrey. He watched him die. Now he wasn't so sure.

Option three, group hysteria. He wasn't certain on this one. 

"... I'm not seeing that. There is no way I am seeing that."

"...I think we are," Gordon stammered, eyes huge. 

The skeleton made a few more noises, sort of like a guitar plucking. 

"Stay back- stay back staaay back-" It was hard to tell if Gordon was talking to the skeleton, or to The Science Team. "...You guys have any ideas?" 

"...I could always punch it," Dr. Coomer tilted his head, though he didn't seem so sure. 

The skeleton whistled a few times, a soft, odd noise, before it made a honk noise. 

"...Okay, on three, we rush it," Gordon muttered. "God, I'm scared-"

Tommy perked up. 

"Wait, no!" He cried.

"What?! What?! Do you know what it is!?" 

"That's green!" Tommy asserted. 

"What does green mean!?" 

"Green means he's not mean!"

"So-" 

Gordon was interrupted by repeated whistling and buzzing, a flail of colors appearing. 

"What does that mean-" He choked. "What is he saying?!"

And then, suddenly, the skeleton reached a high pitch that continued on and on, and it was deafening, bouncing against the metal of the vents they were in and stabbing into their ears.

Mind almost dropped his gun, rushing to cover his ears. Too LOUD. Too MUCH. 

"SsHHHHUUTT UP SHUT UP, BE QUIET!!" 

"OW- FUCK-!" Gordon yelped, now covering his own ears. 

It hurt. It hurt. Mind felt like his brain was melting, and without thinking he started shooting blindly at the thing, eyes squeezed shut and ears awkwardly pressed between his free hand and his shoulder. 

He needed this thing dead... Again. 

Unfortunately, he didn't think about the current location they were in, and the gunshots only echoed in the vents alongside the creature. He really should have brought his earplugs to work, but they might not have done much for whatever fresh hell this was.

"JUST KILL IT I CANT HANDLE IT-!" Bubby screeched. Gordon, as if he were an attack dog, started bolting toward the thing with a shout- leading the way as the rest of the team followed. 

The skeleton, who didn't react much to the bullets, started running as well.

Mind squinted his eyes open, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as he did, and saw the group running. Unbearable physical pain be damned, he ran after them, not wanting to be left behind.

He needed to make sure that thing stopped existing, even if the process of doing so was going to make him want to commit atrocities... More than usual.

Bubby raced ahead of Gordon and took out-  ...oh god that was an RPG.

Before anyone could say anything, the trigger was pulled, and a rocket blasted through the vents before exploding against the metal, sending a blast of heat and deafening ringing toward everyone.

...And, not only did it not break the vents they were in, but Gordon and the rest seemed to not even care, locked on their target.

Mind, who had uncovered his ears, deciding to just grin and bear it until the thing was dead, caught the full sound of the explosion. 

In almost an instant his body decided enough was enough, and he screeched, falling to his knees and covering his ears, gun forgotten beside him. His palms were pressed hard enough to hurt, and he was almost certain that when he took them away, the imprint of the gloves would be on his face. 

He didn't care. He just needed the ringing to stop. 

He didn't even notice the tears falling until he took a breath, shaky and broken, and heard himself sob. What filled his chest at that was a red-hot shame. What kind of idiot couldn't handle a little bit of noise? Even at that, he didn't need to cry at it, he was being pathetic. He was sure of it, nobody else could see him like this.

The gunshots were muffled and distant, still ringing through the vents as they got further and further away- much louder than a scream, a loud, panicked conversation, and then a bit of talking. 

The first thing Mind properly heard was footsteps and Gordon's voice.

"God, where is he- shit I hope he's okay-"

The large man turned the corner, and perked up, before racing over and sliding on his knees- he immediately put a hand on his shoulder. 

"Woah- heyheyheyhey- are you alright!?"

Without thinking, Mind HISSED at the guy, immediately scratching and pushing the guy away. Space, he needed space, don't look at him-

"GGET THE- GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!" 

His voice is rough from sobbing, but there's a significant growl to it. 

"IF YOU COME ANY- A-ANY CLOSER I WILL NOT HHHESITATE TO BITE YOU." 

For a split second he looked Gordon in the eyes, and his own were full of fear. It wasn’t for long though, as he very quickly covered his face, scratching at his eyes with a screech in an attempt to make everything less.

"Woah-! Hey-" Gordon backed up, eyes huge. 

He didn't know what to do here- granted, he barely understood what was going on, but he had a feeling this might be related to all the noise from earlier. He himself fucking hated it, but he went into a tunnel vision trying to kill the damn skeleton as a way to cope- and regretted it, because it meant he left Mind alone. Not to mention, his ears were still ringing. 

He backed up a bit more, and sat down across from Mind, face twisted in worry. 

"Hey, keep your- don't touch your face, man."

"I'LL DO WHATEVER THE FUCK I WANT!"

There was too many people looking at him, he could feel it-

He hated these stupid gloves and their protective rubber, dragging them over his face just left a dull ache. If he didn't have them on he'd be able to be done with this, the sting from his nails usually tipped it over the edge for him and his stupid brain would start to calm down again. Sure, he normally had to hide the marks until they faded when he was at work, but it's the middle of an alien apocalypse, was he not allowed ONE source of relief in this hell?

After another attempt, he sobbed again, taking his hands down and looking at Gordon with a tear-streaked face. He looked tired. He felt tired. He didn't want to be here anymore.

Gordon frowned, shrinking a bit as he watched him. 

He was a little scared, honestly- he didn't want this guy to suddenly snap and decide he was an enemy. He didn't...entirely trust anyone here, but that trust was building, at least a little. 

He didn't know why he was starting to trust these people, despite how fucking stupid they all acted, or how mean to him they tended to be. He already sort of considered them friends, and hoped they could all still talk after all this was over. 

Naturally, this was scary to see, because of that. But he decided friends should trust and support one another- that's what he heard all his life.

He swallowed, fiddling with his hands and looking at the ground. 

"It's- you're alright, dude, we're. I dunno if we're safe right now but we're...you can breathe, I'm here, alright?" 

Was that what you were supposed to say? He wasn't sure.

Mind felt weak. He felt so weak. Useless, pathetic, there was no way in hell these people will be able to look at him the same. He needs to get out of here. 

As he tried to move though, he was shaking too much, that annoying tremble in his hands from earlier now a full-fledged tremor.

He only distantly heard Gordon's words but he laughed at it, hollow. What, did he think he needed help? Did he think he wasn't strong enough? He would have snapped back at him if the exhaustion wasn't so strong in him. Whatever. He took a deep breath, or tried to, curling in on himself.

"Hey- dude, please sit down- please?" Gordon put his hands out. "You're- you need to calm down, first, alright? Can you-" He paused, looking him up and down. "Auh, fuck, okay gimme a sec." 

He paused, thinking- when he was little and had basically daily meltdowns, not long after he became verbal, one of his old teachers used to give him a cup of water so he'd be distracted and stop crying- he later used this technique on Josh all the time. 

After a bit, he went through their collection from the vending machines and took out a bottle of water. He opened it and set it down in front of Mind.

The guy looked between the bottle and Gordon. Trying to think of any tricks, any ulterior motives, anything. 

He came back with nothing. It registered as a discrepancy to him, why was there no trick to this?

Suspicious, he took the bottle, slowly raising it and taking a sip, eyes on Gordon practically the whole time. 

Taking a sip felt gross in his mouth, and he cringed slightly, but drank a little more.

He didn't like admitting that it did make him feel better, and his brain was still shot with panic about what that was as he sat the bottle back down in between them.

Gordon didn't look at him very much- though the guy already avoided a lot of eye contact unless something stupid was said. He continued to play with his gloves a bit, nervous, and when the bottle was set down, he looked at Mind again, studying his breathing and making sure it was slower. 

"...Are you able to talk?" He asked, softly.

Mind opened his mouth to say something sarcastic back at him, Yeah of course I can talk, I'm not a toddler.

... Only to find that he could not talk. 

The shame was back, he hated this. 

Shaking his head no, he brought his knees closer to his chest, practically death-staring Gordon. This is your fault, somehow.

"...Okay, that's fine- I-I go nonverbal sometimes, too," Gordon said. "Do you know sign language? Or would you rather, would you rather we have uh. Fuckin. Would you rather we have quiet time?"

Quiet time. Just hearing the words made Mind want to hurt someone. It felt childish, and he wasn't a child. He was just as damn capable as the rest of them, voice or not. 

Luckily for him though, he did know sign language. Unluckily for everyone else, his hands still shook, and he was absolutely going to get snappy if he had to repeat himself.

"Sign."

Gordon perked up. 

"Okay-! Great! That's- that's great, uh," He  looked back over to the charred vent nearby, and then to Mind. "Do you need anything in particular right now? I-I'm uh, k-kinda scared to leave you alone, cause...I mean. Aliens." He gestured. "But if you want um, me to be quiet, or me to uh, talk? Or distract you? I-I can do that-"

Mind shifted, snapping his fingers.

"Shut up. Pay attention."

He took a second, and another sip from the water, before continuing.

"Don't like this any more than you do. I can still handle myself, not useless."

He paused.

"... I don't like noise."

"...That's...fine. I don't, either." Gordon said. "And I know you aren't useless, you've- I mean, you've kinda been the most normal guy here- and uh, you're smart." 

He curled his knees to his own chest, looking at the ground, before deciding it was important to make sure if he knew Mind was signing or not.

"...I-I've kinda needed you as a source of grounding this whole time, man. It's...everything else is fucked and these people, I-I care about them but they're fucking...confusing." 

The other guy had started signing something, before it died on his hands as he processed that.

Mind wasn't expecting at all to be told he was wanted, let alone that he was smart and helped ground the guy. 

Some weight eased itself off of his shoulders, and he finally looked away from Gordon with such scrutiny. 

"... Thank you. This place is fucking insane," another pause, "doesn't surprise me that you need me here just to make sense of everything."

Gordon let out a wheeze. 

"Oh, it is fucking insane, I don't- the rest of the gang is exploring up ahead, but uh...yeah no. Today fucking sucks. And...I dunno what that skeleton was but- that noise and us shooting shit in the vents? Dude, I thought I was gonna throw up," He straight up laughed. "It- my ears are ringing still. And I'm still hearing weird fucking Russian."

Mind laughed, silently shaking before snapping his fingers again, a smile on his face.

"What is with the Russian?? I'm surprised I didn't throw up if I'm honest."

His expression dropped, and he looked down the vents to where the skeleton went.

"Did you kill it?"

“…I dunno, uh- the vent suddenly dropped off, into uh. Fan blades. Bubby fell in and didn’t get hurt, somehow,” Gordon said. “Uh, they all started to figure out how to get through when I realized you weren’t with us, so I came back here to see if you were okay.”

Mind paused, going over the words in his head.

It occurred to him that he hasn't tried to find a secondary motive or worry about any aliens spawning in beside them for a bit now. He didn't know how he felt about that.

"...Thank you."

“Oh- yeah, man, of course! I-I want us to get out, leaving you would be shitty, you don’t deserve that.” Gordon said, and then started feeling a bit of his Dad Mode instincts kick in again. “You feeling better? Need food? I have more uh, more chips.”

Mind smiled weakly, exhaustion from his breakdown still flooding his system. 

"I'm good for now. Don't think I could eat even if I wanted to. Finishing this water though." 

He picked up the bottle, tracing over the side of it.

“Good- good idea.” Gordon chuckled softly. “You uh, you do that. Then we can see if we can catch up with the team, alright? Or wait as long as you need.” 

He pauses, hesitant. 

“…Uh, there have been a few times where I’ve forgotten earplugs for heavier experiments, and uh. Got overstimulated and shut down, a-and I always locked myself in my office when that happened, cause I was…I didn’t want to be judged. So…I uh. I can kinda get…if you wanted to wait a bit longer. I-I’m pretty sure the Science Team is chill, I know for a fact Dr. Coomer is autistic- Bubby and Tommy haven’t told me themselves but they’re. I dunno. I don’t think they’ll be shitty. But we can still wait.”

Mind’s grip on the bottle tightened slightly, and he put it down again to sign.

"I'm not autistic. I just... Can't handle too much noise. And it isn't my fault that other people can't do things the right way."

If the only reason Gordon was being nice to him is because he thought he was Autistic, he didn't want it. He wasn't broken. He didn't know why his chest hurt at the thought of that. 

He looked away.

"I can move in just a second."

Gordon raised an eyebrow at that- it wasn’t in any offense, it was…well, it looked sorta like he doubted him, kind of a sure buddy, whatever you say expression. 

“Take your time, man. I don’t mind waiting.”

Bite, chomp, kill. Mind let it go, for now, not having the energy to argue. 

After another minute or so, he started to move, grabbing the bottle. He went to check for his gun as well, before realising it wasn't holstered, and looked around frantically, panic rising.

He spotted it close by Gordon, and practically lunged at the thing to put it back where it belongs. 

"Okay, now I'm ready."

Gordon gave him a smile, and with a grunt, he stood up, stretching. 

“Houghman, Alright, let’s-“ 

He was interrupted by footsteps, and turned around, noticing Bubby turn the corner. 

“Dead-end.” He grumbled, Dr. Coomer and Tommy following behind. 

“Huh!?” Gordon gestured. “Wh- why?! Really!? How big is this place!?”

...

TYSM FOR READING :3 SORRY IF IT'S A BIT MESSY, AGAIN THIS WAS ORIGINALLY AN RP BETWEEN ME AND @shineyfish !

[redrawthecolorlessworld]

Rain Chat

i get less creative with the titles here as time goes on

also colorless pov as always. lmao

———

I can't believe it has to rain like this. The weather broadcast didn't said anything about there being rain today.

...But then again, I should've realized long ago that the weather broadcast always lies.

Or maybe they're just really bad at predicting the weather?

Ugh...I don't wanna know.

I pull out my umbrella, before holding it over my head. I could hear the rain drops hitting the surface of the umbrella—it's a satisfying sound to hear, not gonna lie. I don't typically listen to those...ASMRs with the sounds of rain and all of that whenever I sleep, but maybe I should start doing that from now on. Because really, this truly is satisfying to listen to.

I looked around, before spotting a bus stop in the distance. Maybe I can take shelter there in the meantime? I quickly walked towards it, but then suddenly stopped in my tracks. I see someone. They seem really familiar, honestly. I...need to have a closer look at them—

On second thought, nevermind...! I know who that is!

"Ah- Convergence!"

He quickly noticed me, turning his head to look at me as I ran towards him, still holding onto my umbrella. Once I finally got to him, I immediately hold the umbrella over his head, shielding him from the rain coming from above. I covered my head with the hood of my jacket, before looking at him with a frown.

"Hey, what are you doing out here alone in the rain? Without an umbrella too..." I asked. Convergence stared at me for a few seconds, before answering, "I forgot to bring one. I didn't expect it to rain today." I nodded at that, my frown turning into a smile as I looked back at him. "Well you're safe with me now. Don't worry about it."

Convergence raised an eyebrow at me. "And...you were...?" Ah, right. I forgot that he'd hardly remember me from the first time we met. I gotta remind him in some way. "Oh, Colorless. My name's Colorless. I was the guy who bumped into you the other day. You, uh, helped me up after that." I replied, before letting out a really nervous sounding chuckle.

God, that sounded embarrassing.

Convergence nodded at that. "I see..." He simply said, before looking up to the umbrella in silence. I looked over to the streets, where vehicles are passing by. Maybe it's best to initiate a conversation. "...So...you wanna take cover in that bus stop over there?" I asked, pointing towards the bus stop in the distance that I originally intended to go to.

Convergence looks at it for a moment, before nodding, turning his head to look at me again. "I don't mind." He answered, and after that, the two of us walked towards it. I started asking him about some pretty mundane stuff; how he's feeling today, what his favorite drink is, what he does in his free time, stuff like that.

"I suppose I'm feeling alright."

"I...like coffee. Yeah."

"I don't do much. Maybe reading some novels here and there. They never really entertain me much, though..."

Those were his answers.

Eventually, we made it to the bus stop. I set the umbrella down onto the ground, internally praying that it doesn't get blown away by the wind, or something.

...But it's not really that windy either right now.

Maybe I'm just being overly anxious again.

"...What about you?" Convergence's voice managed to catch my attention. "Hm? What?" I asked, not exactly understanding what he meant. I'm an idiot for this. "Those questions you asked me just now...let me ask them to you this time." He said again, his face expression being the same bland one that he's been wearing since I first saw him today.

"O-oh! Uh...I guess I've been doing alright. The rain just sort of ruined my mood, though. It had to come so randomly—I hate it." I answered him, before letting out a frustrated groan. "...As for my favorite drink...I guess orange juice? It's pretty good." After that, though, I quickly added, "But I prioritize my health more than anything else. Orange juice may be healthy because it's from a fruit, but I prefer mineral water...!"

I said that with so much fucking pride. It's embarrassing to think about it.

And I sounded so prideful, that I could hear a chuckle come from the person beside me.

I quickly turned my head to look at Convergence, who has a hand over his mouth as he tries to cover the smile forming on his face thanks to my statement.

Convergence?

Laughing?

Now that's certainly new.

"E-eh...?" I let out, yet I couldn't get even more words to come out after that. Convergence coughs, before glancing away from me, his smile still present without him noticing. "Hah, uh, sorry. The tone of your voice and the way you said it...did managed to get a laugh out of me, shamefully enough." He said.

I'm honestly impressed I managed to get that to even happen.

This is a literal miracle...!

An achievement that I'll always remember!

I've only known Convergence for a day, but just seeing him genuinely smile makes me feel determined to keep making him smile like that.

...Which sounds cheesy—and it also makes me sound like I have a crush on him or something.

...

....I'm not even going to deny it anymore. It's just a small one, though.

———

...I promise.

I'll redraw the colorless world so you can see the beauties of its colors again.

[outoftheirdifferences]

☯ "Slade is right. You don’t have any friends." For the Terra owies

Send me '☯ + a scene from my characters canon' and I will drabble it from my character's POV.

"Beast Boy... it's the truth."

Her tone was heavy. She'd hoped that, somehow, this truth would never come out; that maybe, she didn't know, maybe she and Beast Boy could just have taken off after this night, gone somewhere else, left it all behind. She'd done what Slade had wanted in return for teaching her to master her powers, they were square; even if he had further plans involving her, the main deed was done, and she no longer owned him everything. He should have been too busy overseeing the fall of Titans Tower, he'd never been meant to know that...

Too late for that now.

She'd inwardly winced as Slade spelled out for Beast Boy exactly what she'd done, making it sound so much worse than it had seemed when she'd agreed to it... but watching Beast Boy lash out at the mirrors, smashing them one after another with a punch or a kick as if that would somehow hurt his enemy, hearing the desperation in his voice as he accused Slade of lying... she'd known she had to speak up.

But it was... it was okay, right? Not fifteen minutes ago, he'd given her his promise - that no matter what she told him, no matter how horrible it was, he'd still like her, he'd still be her friend - and it was that promise that she clung to now. As she stood before Slade, ever the 'dutiful' apprentice; as she watched Beast Boy turn to her, betrayal in his eyes; as she heard the numb tone to his voice as he could only manage two words:

"Terra... why?"

(under the cut for length!)

She didn't know, she didn't have the words. But that was 'okay'; Slade was answering for her. At the cold, calculating, calm - in her current internal turmoil, she couldn't imagine ever sounding that calm again - tone to his voice... that was the moment she flinched away, turning her head, unable to keep meeting the betrayal in Beast Boy's gaze.

"Because you could never give her what she needs."

Beast Boy's next sound wasn't words, but an incoherent yell of rage mixed with a roar; and Terra's eyes snapped open to see the green tiger hurling itself straight at them. She didn't know whether Beast Boy was aiming for Slade or for her - she didn't want to know - but instinct took over and she ducked away. She didn't know how to act, whose behalf to act on; she wanted to root for Beast Boy, but Slade--

The titan never found his mark; as Terra turned, still crouched to the ground, she saw Slade catch the mighty feline straight out of the air, slam him to the ground. The tiger rounded, snarling; but then Slade had a gun, and its shot resounded in the wrecked mirror hall.

Terra's mind was working sluggishly. Surely he hadn't-- she clumsily found her feet, moving around Slade to see what had happened, to see...

Beast Boy, human once again, crumpled at Slade's feet, the gun still pointed at his head.

A gasp tore from her lungs. Blue gaze sought desperately for a sign of life, a sign that Slade hadn't just snuffed out the life of the titan who was her enemy and her best friend, and who might have been something more to her if circumstances had been different...

He groaned, and for a moment her fears weren't realised--

But Slade still held the gun--

"NO."

Hands glowed with the now-familiar rush of power, and she mentally grasped at the ground beneath Slade's feet, ready to throw him off balance in a moment should she need to.

"I won't let you hurt my friend!"

He looked at her out the corner of his single eye, and Terra felt her heart collapse even before he spoke.

"Dear child, you don't have any friends."

Before she could manage any response, could even process it, Beast Boy was on his feet again: now a gigantic bear, bowling Slade over, tearing at him in what looked like a blind rage; but though she stared in horror, Terra couldn't bring her mind to focus on the scene before her. Slade's words had touched a deep part of her, a deep, deep fear that she didn't want them to have touched, and she...

and she...

She turned and ran.

She didn't know where she was trying to go. Deeper into the mirror maze, just trying to get away, to not have to face the fear that Slade's dismissive words had planted in her heart.

Beast Boy wouldn't-- He said-- He promised--

He had also promised to keep her secret before, and look how that had worked out--

NO! He PROMISED me! He'll be my friend, no matter what I've done, no matter how bad... he promised, he promised--

And then, all at once, she was face to face with herself. A dead end; mirror-Terra stared back at her, looking just as haunted as Terra herself felt, and she withdrew with a gasp. But the mirrors were everywhere; as she backed away, more mirror-Terras were backing towards her, and one after another, her eyes met their own horrified gazes. She spun in place, trying to find a way out; but all she could see was herself, herself everywhere; and in every gaze she could see the desperate plea:

Beast Boy had to keep his promise-- Slade was wrong-- he had to be--

If Beast Boy didn't--

It was at that moment that she despaired. Sinking to her knees with a sob, one hand shielding her head as if it could keep her fears and doubts at bay, the other just barely supporting her, keeping her from toppling over into a heap.

"Beast Boy..."

Her voice was weak, broken. She didn't expect him to be there, didn't expect him to hear, but she had to... she couldn't... she didn't know what she was thinking, only that she had to...

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen."

Movement, to her left; instinctively she raised her head, to see Beast Boy was indeed standing there. He'd heard her feeble apology... but his response was as accusing as she'd ever heard from him.

"Then why did you let it?"

She scrambled back to her feet, not sure if she was acting because she was ashamed for him to see her like this, or because she... she hated the feeling of him looking down at her like she was something horrible.

"I don't know, okay? I don't know!"

The words spilled out of her; but they were empty excuses, not even that much, and she knew it. Beast Boy deserved better than that... and, really, there was only one explanation anyway.

"Slade... he helped me, saved me from myself."

He had to know what she meant, right? He, out of all the titans, had seen the damage she could do, the underground whirlwind she'd unleashed, the way she'd almost brought down the whole mine atop them all. She'd been afraid, she'd been desperate... he could never know what that felt like, he had his power under control so easily - and even if he didn't, changing into animals couldn't accidentally hurt people. Not like her earth powers could.

Not like her powers so often had.

"He said I owed him, but--"

"So it was all a game? You were just pretending?!"

If she thought she'd heard Beast Boy's most accusatory tone before, she'd been wrong; as he interrupted, jabbing a finger of blame in her direction, and Terra felt her heart quaver, threatening to crumble down to her guts.

"No."

And then, because she couldn't contain the fear any longer, because she needed to hear him say it, to reassure her that even if he was angry with her now, that he'd meant--

"You said you'd be my friend no matter what, remember?"

There was a plea in her tone. She reached out a gloved hand, hoping desperately that he'd take it... but at his gaze, cold and sharp enough to cut her, she recoiled. For a moment, she didn't think he was even going to deign to answer her; but he cast a glance back over his shoulder.

And uttered the words that would crush her.

"Slade was right. You don't have any friends."

Her heart crumbled into a million tiny pieces. She'd never seen Beast Boy so cold, so resentful, so bitter... and for it to be directed towards her... a small part of Terra knew that she deserved it, that she had no right to have expected anything else.

But he'd promised, he'd promised, he'd PROMISED--

"If you were really my friend, I could tell you anything, and no matter how horrible it was you would still like me, right?"

"Yes," he'd said. "I promise, Terra. No matter what."

liar.

Liar.

LIAR.

She could only stare. Wide eyed, her heart in pieces at her feet, more wounded than she'd ever thought possible. This wasn't supposed to happen, this wasn't how it was supposed to end, Beast Boy was supposed to say yes of course, I know you've made a terrible, terrible mistake but of course we're still friends, of course, of course...

"Apprentice."

Slade's voice broke into her thoughts. And in that moment Terra knew there was absolutely nothing left for her in the world of titans and heroes. There was no good still within her heart--

Beast Boy had just crushed the last of it.

Even before Slade could utter the command to come, she was falling back towards him, knowing without even looking just where he was standing. She didn't look at him, didn't see the tears and scratches of his recent mauling on his clothes and armour. Didn't look at anything, just squeezed her eyes tightly closed as she retreated to his side, to the only place in the world that still wanted her.

The shadows were all she had left.

"We've had a change of plans."

Still, Slade sounded as calm and collected as anything; but within Terra herself, a flame of hatred had been sparked. True, she was awful, she'd used the titans, gained their trust, betrayed them... but she, at least, had never given a promise and broken it.

The flame was only small for now. But she would fan it, and it would grow...

Eyes snapped open once more; but this time their gaze was hardened, cold, cruel. Let Beast Boy moan and whimper over her betrayal... as if he hadn't broken his promise and her heart first when he'd blabbed to Robin about her not being able to control her powers...

Because when she next saw him, she'd give him something to really hurt over.

She and Slade stepped backwards into the all-enveloping shadows, and were gone.

[softie-rain]

Meet me at the Hanging Tree

Previous chapter: Chapter Six

Pairings: Peter Maximoff x fem!reader

Series Summary: Panem, governed by President Magnus, is getting ready for the 75th Hunger Games. It's in this Memory Edition that the reader will learn how far one can go for the loved one, even if that could bring her to certain death.

Series Warnings: Murdering, described death and violence, suicide, death for natural causes such as starving, hypotermia, dehydratation and wounding infection.

Chapter seven: Where are you Peter?

Quick Info:

this -> ~~~ means that it's a changing of pov!

this -> ¤¤¤ means a skip time!

Summary: second day in the arena, and Peter's mind is more doubtful than it ever was.

a/n: ok this is probably a very boring chapter. I'm not really proud of it, but hopefully it's good anyway? not a lot happens but hey, it's still just the second day.

a/n 2: quick poll time! do you prefer if i did a sort of tributes count at the end of every chapter now that they're (rip) starting to "fall"? No because honestly i don't remember them either, they're just all saved in my notes and i crossed their names once i killed them. (did that sounded bad?)

Five hours before

Sorry y/n. Peter thought, as he immediately ran away from the bloodbath. Maybe she would have wanted him to wait for her, or maybe he should have just tried to grab something. But he didn’t. He ran, like the coward he was. 

He stopped only when he couldn’t hear the agonizing scream of the tributes. He leaned against a tree to regain the breath, and then focused on his next moves. First off, he had to find y/n. No, no he had to find water. Water was what was going to save him, not y/n. 

Right?

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. Why was he always so confused? Lorna and her intrusive thoughts are at fault. Since she told him that he has a crush on y/n, he can’t stop thinking about her- it. He can’t stop thinking about it. 

Because it’s not true, he knows it, and the fact that Lorna makes fun of him for that makes him go crazy. 

“Where are you Peter?” 

He turned around immediately in the direction of the voice. It was barely whispered, and yet he still heard her. Thanking the large tree for covering from the view, he observed as y/n looked around, probably searching for him. That was it, his chance. He was going to get out his hiding spot, then go up to her and… And what? 

They promised each other to be allies, but now the question was taunting his mind: do you want her as an ally or as a partner? Ally of course. Then why wouldn’t that voice in his head just leave?

His internal battle with his feelings lasted clearly too long as he saw the girl turning her head and then running away, shortly later followed by Darwin. He wasn’t there to kill her, he knew that they were friends. He should have probably joined them, but he decided that for the moment he would have kept his distance. He waited long enough for Darwin to grab his friend’s body and take her to a small cave, and then he followed him, hiding once again behind a tree. 

“Well good job Peter.” He said to himself. “And now what?”

He tried to look inside the cave, but the only thing he could see were y/n’s feet and Darwin preparing something with herbs, probably to help her wound, he believed. He could have walked in there. Explaining Darwin the situation, and maybe he would have let him stay.

In the worst case scenario, Darwin would have killed him and told y/n that it was another tribute’s fault. Or he would have done the same thing to him. He wasn’t 100% sure of the last part though. Peter never killed anyone, and he never wanted to. One thing in common he had with y/n. He knew he was going to, soon or later. But he would have prefered it was later than sooner. 

And so for some reason or another, he didn’t join you and Darwin. He looked up and saw that the tree’s branches were large and strong enough to fit one person, and so he quickly took the decision of climbing it -at least the time he spent in his father’s garden when he was younger was turning out useful- and resting there until night. 

He didn’t join you either when you woke up, unable to hear what you were talking about with Darwin. He waited to see all the dead tributes of the day, and then thought about falling asleep. He finally decided that he wasn’t going to, not for that night at least. He didn’t have a rope, and he didn’t exactly want to fall in the middle of the night. 

In his mind and heart, he hoped that at least y/n was getting a good sleep. 

~~~

Even she couldn’t believe it, but somehow she slept better that night than the night before entering the Arena. Darwin was outside, cooking something on a fire he lit up. “Goodmorning.” He said when he noticed her. “Why didn’t you wake me up? I thought we were supposed to sleep in turns.” He smiled and nodded. “I know. But you slept so peacefully, and I didn’t want to stress you after the injury you took yesterday.”

“Thought you said it wasn’t serious.”

“It is not.”

“Then tonight we sleep in turns.”

“But-”

“It wasn’t a request.”

Where was all of this courage coming from, she had no idea. But maybe if she kept this mask up, that would help with the sponsors. "Do you think Peter is ok?" She didn't know why she asked that out loud, but if Darwin is annoyed by this, it doesn't show it. "Depends. Was he good at surviving?" He asks back, half joking, half serious.

The girl shook her head, smiling briefly. "Not really honestly. But he was good with recognising herbs or berries. Fast learner." Darwin nodded and kept cooking whatever animal he had captured. 

"Did anything happen last night?" She asked him when they finished eating and started walking, Darwin carrying his small backpack. It didn't contain anything really useful other than it could be used as a pillow and the knife he had conquered during the bloodbath. 

"Not really. I think I heard a noise at some point, but nothing attacked us or anything. And I checked too, to be sure." She nodded and dropped the conversation. 

It's not that she didn't want to talk to him, but she was extremely worried about Peter. So their promise of being allies meant nothing? Sure, they couldn't have decided a meeting point given that they didn't know how the Arena would look. But maybe waiting for her at the entrance of the forest, or at least looking for her right after the bloodbath.

She was nervous. Scared. Anxious. And most of all mad. She was so mad, that all of those feelings weren't for her, but for Peter. 

She wasn't even paying attention to Darwin, her mind now only focused on Peter, praying that he was ok. He was ok. He had to be. 

~~~ 

God why am I so dumb. Peter had no idea of the reason he got Bobby attention so that he'd follow him. 

Ok, he knew why. But he still considered it a terrible idea, now that he had nowhere else to go or hide. 

When he noticed the District 6 tribute getting closer and closer to the District 12 hiding spot, he knew he had to do something. And that something was jumping off the tree, running in Bobby direction without going unnoticed, and saving the other two from a possible attack.

Something that was terribly stupid considered how Darwin was wide awake, and could have easily spotted the attacker before he had the time of doing anything. Plus, he knew he could kill.

And so there he was, running once again to escape. 

His feet were basically moving on their own, the pure survival instinct saving him from death. Hopefully, saving him from death. He looked back to see if Bobby was still following him, and when he didn't see him, he slowed down and finally stopped. 

He looked around. He had distanced himself a lot from the cave, and now he knew for sure that his chances of reuniting with y/n were minimal. 

"Well well well. I must say, I'm honored I'm the one who will get to kill the President’s son." 

Shit.

He thought he lost him, but no. Bobby was standing right there in front of him, pointing a sword at him. Since when could he use a sword? He knew he should have paid more attention at the training center. 

He lifted his hands up, showing how harmless he was. "Look, think about it. Wouldn't it be good to have me on your side? Imagine how many sponsors that could get." Bobby seems to be thinking about his offer -if he could call it that- for a few instants, just to immediately turn him down. "Besides, I think I'd have more chances of winning with you out of the way." 

At least he hasn't paid attention to the training either. He thought. Because why in the world would one think that he'd have any chance? "Sorry for your sister, but you have to go, Magnus." Those were his last words before jumping on him, running him through with his sword. 

Peter didn't even have time to react, so he just closed his eyes waiting for his death. 

Next thing that happened, a cannon shot went off. 

~~~

She sighed, making Darwin turn towards her. "You alright?" He asked her, worried her head injury was infected. She shook her head. "I'm fine. I just need-"

Her words were interrupted by a cannon-shot.

"The Favourites" "The Careers." They said together.

"Favourites?" He gave her a weird look, to which she blushed. "Uh, yeah. It's a stupid joke I have with my sister. Technically they're Capitol's favourites right?" Darwin raised an eyebrow, amused by her answer. 

"I guess you're right." But he immediately turned serious once he remembered what they just heard. "Who do you think went down?" She didn't want to answer. She couldn't. Even if it wasn't Peter, it felt wrong to her to just say a random name as in some sort of bet. Then again, Darwin just asked her a thought. 

"Maybe the girl from district 3." She mumbled. "She seemed pretty weak." She felt terrible for saying that. 

He nodded in agreement. "Yeah, probably her." It hurts her to see how little he cares. True, they didn't know her. But would it hurt showing a bit of empathy?

She must have shown her feeling through her face, because Darwin immediately tries to comfort her -failing miserably- "She would have died anyway y/n. We could be the next too. There's not much room left for feelings."

As much as she hated it, he was right. But then again, he hated how quickly he had turned his emotions off. She didn't answer him, and just went on walking this time in front of him. Her previous need for water suddenly disappeared, substituted by a knot formed in her stomach, caused by Darwin reaction.  

She needed Peter. She needed him now more than ever, because she knew that he would agree with her. He would tell her not to worry, that at least now she -if it really was the female from 3- won't suffer anymore. 

Maybe he'd hold her in an embrace, or simply hold her hand in comfort. But maybe holding hands was something he considered too "boyfriend and girlfriend" kinda thing. Or maybe it was just how she saw it in her mind, and he wouldn't have minded it. 

Holding hands or not, she needed Peter. And that was a fact.

¤¤¤

After spending the whole day walking to search for a source of water -on their side, y/n woke up really late due to Darwin not wanting to wake her up- they finally stopped. They set their "camp" behind a fallen log that covered them. More or less. "No signs of water yet?" y/n simply shook his head no, a defeated look on her face. 

He looked at the girl for a good minute before speaking again. "We need to find it, y/n. Or we won't survive long." 

"Yeah no shit Darwin!" She snapped. She took a deep breath in, and answered him again, more calmly. "Sorry. I know, but there's not much I can do." He didn't give her an answer, simply stared at her.

"Maybe you can talk about it?"

"About what."

"About Peter and how you're so convinced the cannon was for him? Maybe?" 

She looked down at the ground, slowly leaning on a tree. "So?" 

"I don't want to talk about it. I'm good."

"No you're clearly not. Look, it's fine by me if you don't wanna say anything about that. But you have to keep your mind clear alright? That boy can't be your first thought here. Neither can I, really. 

You have to be selfish for once, and fight for your own life. Not Peter's, not mine, yours." He sat next to her and took her hand in his. "Plus, your doubts are about to be either confirmed or denied." She looked up just as the national anthem went on. 

She needed to know if it was Peter or if he survived the day. And when the night sky was illuminated with the picture of the fallen tribute, she couldn't help but feel sick in the stomach, as she needed to vomit. His being the only death of the day, the sky went full dark again a few minutes later. 

"Are you ok?" Darwin asked her. She nodded. "I'll do the first turn." Not fully understanding her reaction, he nodded, not wanting to disagree with her. He fixed his backpack and tried to quickly fall asleep, as his companion sat on a rock looking at the knife the boy had used the day before to kill in the bloodbath. 

She closed her eyes and, for the first time in two days, cleared her mind from any feeling she could have at that moment.

She hated admitting it, but Darwin was right. 

There's no room for feelings in the Arena. 

tags: @raincoffeeandfandoms @sweeter-innocence-fics @pappachismoth

comment or reblog if you wanna be added or removed :)

[oingo233]

You Are Beautiful (1)

Summary: Sirius Black was entranced since the moment he saw you. He had to have you but you are convinced his feelings are fleeting, and will only hurt you. People inside and outside of your relationship meddle in the makings of something that could be beautiful... or disastrous. Will love and confidence win? Or will doubt and uncertainty tear you both down?

Young Sirius Black x Pus SizedFemReader

Warning: one inappropriate joke lol, fluff I suppose and nothing else really. All the real stuff comes later :0

Authors note: I mostly write my xreader fics as neutral but as this is a request, I wrote this as fem. But if anyone would like a male version or neutral version let me know and I will copy this but obviously change readers gender (and it's no burden to me I'd love to make more readers feel included and represented). Also reader is plus sized and she is confident and strong throughout the fic -because plus sized characters aren't represented like that in film/books alot (but if looking for amazing and empowering plus sized female characters Nina Zenik from Six of Crows owns my entire heart and changed how I saw myself personally and I would recommend that book for anyone really)- but as any human she has her insecurities because beauty standards are unattainable and have a way excluding so many people and making us feel less than beautiful. As a plus sized/overweight person myself, I understand how we have to fight to feel beautiful and fight this internalized bias we have when we look in the mirror. But WE ARE BEAUTIFUL. WE ARE WORTHY OF MAGAZINGE COVERS AND COMPLIMENTS AND ABOVE ALL SELF LOVE!! The self insert character in this has fought for her confidence, but it will shake and stumble throughout the series and Sirius and friends are there for her to help her realize for herself how beautiful she truly is, once again. So I hope I didn't stray too far from the request :) Enjoy....

Word Count: 1.8

Authors Note: About halfway through I decided to make it a series oops-

****Blabbering Idiot****

Sirius Black is a man of many, many words. In fact, I'm sure if he was writing this he could quickly turn it into one of the most entertaining novels ever written. He'd describe the laughter of his friends for a whole page. Tell a hilarious joke on the next. Then he'd describe the wind blowing through the open halls and courtyard and the spring sun. He could write about a great many things in great detail. (But he wouldn't because he doesn't quite enjoy writing as much as he does anything else, but that's above the point.)

As I said, Sirius Black is a man of many words. So it was such a curious thing when he first saw you. It was an astounding thing really, because for the first time he found something that rendered him completely speechless.

The sun was peeking through the open corridor and pooled onto you, caressing your skin and hair in an ethereal glow. Highlighting curves that brought both sinful and sweet thoughts running through him. It was as if the universe was telling him, look at what we've created, look at this beautiful creature. But he could hardly believe that this world could create something so lovely and kind. You threw your head back in laughter at something your friend said and suddenly the world is back to normal and all he can hear is your laughter and the sound of his friends curiosity at what could have possibly kept him from the conversation about muggle rock compared to Wizard bands. In fact, James was so passionate about it half the hall turned to listen to his rendition of The Chain by Fleetwood Mac.

But he didn't care, he took a feeble step towards you and suddenly felt so nervous his hands began to sweat. He stuttered and coughed up his words just for a simple "hello" in your direction only for the wind blowing through the halls to carry it away. And his friends laughed at him as he watched you walk too far from where he wanted you. Because, oh did he want you.

Sirus POV:

"I'm telling you, I won't be able to sleep tonight unless I know who she is," Sirius says for not the first time that evening. James started to laugh.

"Why? Because you'll be too busy thinking of her?" James said, laughing as he made a very suggestive hand motion. Peter cackled and Remus rolled his eyes, trying to find the cleaner side of his humor but instead he couldn't help but snort. Sirius pushed James's shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm sure Lily would love to know how familiar with that feeling you are," Sirius says and James stopped laughing immediately, his eyes narrowed.

"Please, you wouldn't dare. And I will deny all accusations, you'll be made out to be a liar. Then the mystery girl will never love you. Is that what you want, Pads?" James joked with a single arch of his brow. Sirius just rolled his eyes. He was only half paying attention, he has been scouring the hallways since he first saw that girl. He wanted to speak to her again, or maybe just stare for a bit. If things went well, he'd be able to do both those things on a date. But he hasn't seen her since that morning and his heart felt oddly shallow. He wanted those butterflies he had when looking at her to come back and overwhelm him again.

"What'll it matter if I don't even know who she is? Or- or if I can't talk to her? No one falls in love with a blabbering idiot," Sirius says. Remus shrugs.

"Lily fell in love with James," he says, Peter laughed again.

"Yeah, regardless of what he does at night," Peter added and now both James and Sirius were rolling their eyes. James and Lily just recently stopped denying their feelings for one another and gave into the sexual tension and mutual pining. Their relationship was still fairly new but they act as if they've been together for years. Sirius supposed that in a way, they have been.

Sirius would watch them giggling, hand and hand in the hall. He'd see them cuddling in the common room, or coming back after dates with rosy cheeks and beaming smiles. Sirius would never admit it out loud, but his heart cried out when he saw them like that. He rarely ever felt lonely. He could have any girl or boy he wanted if he really tried, but for what? One fun night? Only for one more morning where he wakes up alone? He wanted more than that whenever he saw Lily and James, their happiness was palpable. Their love was suffocating.

Sirius always thought he'd find the one after Hogwarts, if at all. But when he saw her... well that changed everything. In a flash he saw himself with her, their hands intertwined and her head thrown back in laughter. Rosy cheeks and bruised lips. Warm beds and making love... being in love. He nearly felt silly after and yet, he knew that even if he did sleep tonight, it would be her he'd dream of.

"Ello' guys!" Lily said, bouncing up to James who kissed her cheek. They walked with their arms looped and Sirius glared at the easy sign of affection. He thought of his parents, how they would be stiff with one another except for in quiet moments, when he'd pass through a hall and glance into their room. He'd spot a quick kiss on the cheek, and soft squeeze of the hand. It were those odd moments for him, that struck him so strongly with a sharp bitterness. They don't deserve softness and love, he'd think, how can such cruel creatures even feel such things? But even then, he'd walk away seeing them as still awful creatures born from the depths of hell, but more human.

"That's her," Sirius whispered so quietly Remus almost didn't hear it. In fact, Sirius didn’t think Remus heard it at all, but it was rather his look of longing towards the Great Hall entrance that gave him away. Because standing right there, was you.

Your hair was a little wind blown, messy around your face, bits of iit shaped your round cheeks and soft eyes. Sirius eyed you up and down and cursed clothes and cursed shyness and cursed his own head for thinking he could even talk to you. But most of all, he cursed a group of boys who walked past you.

Sirius was a confident boy, he knew how to spot someone who held their head up just as high as he did, and you were very much one of those people. You were giggling as you stole a biscuit from a friend and popped it into your mouth, you covered your mouth as you laughed when they complained with a little smile of their own.

"It's just so yummy, and I haven't eaten since breakfast." He heard you say, your friend just shook his head and handed you a plate as you sat down next to him. But right before you could get comfortable a sneering group of boys stole a piece of food from your hand and said something rather rude.

Sirius didn't even realize he had been walking towards you, this girl he has never even spoken too, yet thought of so endearingly, until he was standing right before the boys and had the pack leaders wrist firmly in his grip.

"Drop it boy, c'mon, drop it," he teased. It was humiliating for the boy and he knew it by the laughing and sneering others directed towards the group of boys, but Sirius did not care. The boy dropped the biscuit and looked as if his tail was tucked into his legs. "Good boy," he said, ruffling his hair until it was a knotted mess, the boy winced at just how hard Sirius dug his knuckles into his scalp, Sirius relented with a satisfied smirk.

Sirius’s voice took on a much harsher tone, "Now scram." The boys were out of their seats and in new ones within seconds.

Sirius felt his mood shift completely once they left, because now all eyes were on him, yours included. He looked up at you rather shyly, his hair falling in strands over his forehead. He tucked it behind his ear and found some confidence in the way your eyes followed the movement and how you blushed. He gave you his best smile, hoping his charm wasn't as weak as his legs felt at that moment.

"Hello, I'm Sirius... Sirius Black." Then, like an idiot he put his hand out for you to shake, what charmer just shakes the ladies hand? He stopped belittling himself the moment you softly placed your hand in his.

"It's nice to meet you, Sirius, and thanks for helping me. I know how to handle those filthy 'dogs'" you said, smiling as you remembered the way he spoke to them, he chuckled. "But I suppose it's nice not always having to," you finished with a bright smile on your face. He felt his own cheeks heat up and he nodded but could not think of anything better to say.

"Name," he said, you raised your brows. He cleared his throat, "your name?"

"Oh, how rude of me," you said and then you laughed, that same laugh that caught his attention and has yet to let go. "I'm (y/n) (y/l/n)."

"Nice to meet you," he said, it was as if he couldn't feel the appalled stares of your friends because all he could see was the blush on your cheeks and your head thrown back in laughter. He swallowed thickly before making his way back to his friends. They all wore raised brows and smirks, and he knew they were about to bite into him.

"Treating them like dogs, really? A bit ironic don't you think," Lily said, James shrugged

"That's why it was so good," he said, high fiving Sirius.

"But it admittedly went downhill from there," Peter was sure to add, just like Sirius knew one of them would. Sirius just laughed, too elated to finally know who you were.

"Don't start," he said, but it was too late.

All in union they sputtered out the lame word that will plague Sirius' memory of that moment forever, "Name?"

They cackled at him and ruffled his hair all the way to their seats, but Sirius knew they were pleased for him. And Sirius didn't mind, he could feel the pretty eyes of a pretty girl following him across the room. If only someone told him how important she would become to him, maybe he would have looked back at her and never looked away.

Taglist <3

@enchantedblackrose

[metalheddie]

In Full Bloom

summary: Spencer goes to the flower shop 1 (one) time and falls in love somehow.

tw: mention of medication, Diana's care facility, Diana lashing out mention

word count: 3.9k

a/n: Alright y'all!!! It's finally here! My first ever fic :) I apologize if some of it is a bit clunky or awkward... this is my first time writing and posting anything like this. I hope y'all like this as much as I liked writing it! and this is a Spencer x POC!reader :)

It was early Saturday morning when y/n opened her shop. Unlocking the doors and stepping inside. It was raining pretty heavily, too. She closed her pastel pink umbrella and put it in the basket next to the door. She stopped to take a deep breath, she loved the smell of fresh flowers in the morning. She walked towards the back to turn on her fairy lights and low lighting for her plants and put on her pastel apron with embroidery on the trim. She turned the radio on to the oldies station and Etta James’ Stormy Weather was playing,

Don't know why

There's no sun up in the sky

Stormy weather

Since my man and I ain't together

Keeps raining all of the time...

A perfect song for this morning. Singing to herself, she twirled as she moved towards her supplies, she got to work caring for her flowers and miscellaneous plants around her space.

⋆┈┈｡ﾟ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ﾟ｡┈┈⋆

A few hours later, a light ting of the bell above the door of the flower shop sounded. Y/n hadn’t looked up from the bonsai she was trimming, as she was too immersed in her work to realize someone had walked in. When she finally looked up, she was surprised to see a tall and handsome stranger staring back at her. In that instant, she felt her heart stop for an eternity. He stood there a bit awkwardly as he waited to be helped. Snapping out of the trance she had previously been in, she walked over to the counter where he was standing.

“Hey there! How can I help you today?”

Her face slightly flushed but it wasn’t so noticeable on her tawny brown skin.

“Hi, um, can you help me find some flowers for- for my mom?”

Y/n noticed that he says this a bit sheepishly, almost as if he’s embarrassed to be getting flowers for his mom. Or maybe he’s just awkward, who’s to say?

“Sure! Is there anything specific you’d like to say with this bouquet?”

“Um, yes...well I just wanted to let her know that I appreciate her and I love her very much. She hasn't been feeling well recently, so I wanted to do this small thing for her just to let her know I’ll always be here…”

Y/n smiled at that. It was always so nice to see a man value his mom so much. It warms her heart.

“Aww, well I'm so sorry that she hasn’t been feeling well. I think that's so sweet of you to do this for her. I get my mom flowers when she’s not feeling well too” y/n says with a smile.

“So,” she says, clapping her hands together softly, “I think the best flowers to get her would be Carnations, pink of course, and daisies!”

Y/n excitedly moves around the counter and beckons him to follow her. He does this with a small smile, admiring how animated she had become.

“Why those specific flowers?” he asks.

“Well,” Y/n started, “Did you know that Carnations symbolize the love for a mother as well as the phrase 'I will never forget you’ ” The daisies mean innocence, motherhood, and purity. That meaning stems from the old Celtic legend. In Norse mythology, it’s known as Freya’s sacred flower. Freya is the goddess of love, beauty, and fertility, so it only makes sense that this would be her flower!” y/n continued excitedly.

The man nodded along in interest, all the while y/n was collecting and arranging the flowers in a lovely bouquet, putting them in a small and tasteful vase. She brought them over to the counter to ring him up, fixing the flowers as she went.

⋆┈┈｡ﾟ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ﾟ｡┈┈⋆

Spencer’s POV

While on my way to my mom’s care facility, I saw a quaint little flower shop at the corner of the intersection. I decided to stop in and get some flowers for her. She hasn’t been doing well recently… She’s been lashing out at the nurses and is almost always agitated. Hopefully, this small act will remind her of all the love there is in life.

As I pull into the parking lot of the shop I notice the sign, hand-painted with a unique border that reads Fantasy Flower Shoppe. The side of the building is covered with several winding paths of ivy, truly giving it a fairytale cottage feel. The railing up the steps to the entrance has the ivy as well, acting as a guide to the sage green door.

I stepped through the door, mesmerized at the inside of the shop. There were plants and flowers hanging from the ceiling, on wooden tables, in large pots on the ground, and even in a large misty cabinet on the east wall. A small record player radio hybrid was nestled in between a budding avocado tree and a pot of budding bluebells softly playing what I believe to be I’ve Got a Crush on You by Ella Fitzgerald…

I've got a crush on you, sweetie pie

All the day and nighttime, hear me sigh

I’ve never had the least notion

That I could fall with so much emotion…

I looked around the room, searching for someone who could help me, that's when I laid eyes on the most beautiful girl in the world. She had dark, curly hair that fell to her shoulders wrapped in a cream-colored silk bandanna. She wore a cocoa brown dress with a beige long sleeve shirt underneath and an apron with what looks to be hand-embroidered flowers on the hem. I felt as though I was put under her spell as I gazed at her. She hadn’t looked up from her work, being so focused on trimming her bonsai, she hadn’t realized I had walked in.

I let my eyes linger on her a bit longer as I appreciated her focus. She must have felt my eyes on her, for she looked up and met my eyes. I quickly turned away, as to not make her feel uncomfortable, but also to hide the redness rising high on my cheeks. I suddenly realized what I came into the shop for in the first place.

“Hi, um, can you help me find some flowers for- for my mom?” I stuttered out, cursing myself internally for it.

She smiled sweetly and agreed to help me pick out the best flowers for her. She suggested I get Pink Carnations and daisies. I already knew that those would be the best choice, but I loved the sound of her voice. So as an excuse to continue to listen to her, I asked

“Why those specific flowers?”

I watched her eyes light up with a passion I never knew existed and proceeded to tell me the meanings and origins of both flowers.

“-so it only makes sense that this would be her flower!” she said

I nodded along in interest as if I didn’t already know the answer. She became so animated when she talked about the things she cares about. It was refreshing after being in the BAU for this long and witnessing so much hate and sorrow that came with the job. Seeing someone filled with passion and liveliness when it comes to making a career out of their hobbies was a wonderful thing. All this was not to say that I didn’t like being in the BAU. I wouldn’t be able to leave my family there, not now anyway.

Speaking of family, I need to go to the care facility before visiting hours are over.

⋆┈┈｡ﾟ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ﾟ｡┈┈⋆

Y/n POV

I set the flowers on the counter, tying a silk ribbon around the vase just to add a little flair.

“Alright! That’ll be $10.50.” I said with a smile.

I look up from the register to see him staring at me with a crooked smile. God, he was cute. I wish I was confident enough to ask for his number… Hopefully, I’ll see him again someday. After admiring his features for what seemed like a lifetime, I realized we’ve just been staring at each other since I looked up at him. I start to get a bit insecure. Why has he been staring so long? Is there something on my face? Oh my god is that pesky pimple back?

As y/n was internally freaking out, Spencer on the other hand was basking in her beauty. He couldn’t believe he was standing in the presence of such an ethereal being like her. Her… Oh god. He doesn’t even know her name.

“Um,” y/n stuttered, “Hello? Are you alright?” She lifted her hand to wave it in front of his face to get his attention.

“Oh! I- I- uhh, Sorry about that. I got a bit distracted…” Spencer stumbled over his words like a teenager in love. “What was the total again?” he asked embarrassedly, a blush rising from the bottom of his chest to the tip tops of his ears.

“Oh, um it was $10.50,” she repeated with a newfound shyness, tucking a stray curl behind her ear.

Spencer tried not to fumble with his wallet too severely in an effort to save himself any further embarrassment in front of the pretty florist. That plan failed miserably because as soon as he pulled out his cash, several coins flew out of his wallet. He muttered a quick ‘I’m so sorry as he bent down to get them.

What he didn’t notice was y/n bending down to help him. As she collected the few that fell over by the counter and he collected the ones on his side, they both stood up slightly too close together and headbutted each other. It wasn’t hard enough to leave a bruise or bump, but enough to send a shock through both of them.

Y/n stumbled hard enough from the collision and surprise that she almost toppled over. At the last second, the handsome stranger reached out and grabbed her hand, effectively steadying her.

Rubbing her forehead y/n said “I'm so sorry! Are you alright?”

Letting go of her hand, Spencer replied “Oh, no I’m sorry, I didn't even realize you were right there. Is your head ok?” He was genuinely worried if she was ok.

“Oh, I’m fine, no need to worry!” y/n giggled.

Spencer set the money on the counter and put his wallet away. Y/n rang him up and gave him his receipt.

“Oh, wait! Before you go, I wanted to ask if you wanted to add a small card or note…free of charge” y/n said, the last bit a little sheepishly because of what (she hoped) she was implying. Unfortunately for her, Spencer was very dense when it came to flirting, so he didn’t pick up what she meant.

“Really? Thank you…”

y/n grabbed a card with a pretty border and one of her fountain pens. She looked up at him and nodded, waiting for him to start speaking.

“Live the wonderful life that is in you. Let nothing be lost upon you. Be always searching for new sensations. Be afraid of nothing. I love you, mom. Love, Spencer.”

y/n smiled at that. This was one of the sweetest bouquets she’s ever had the pleasure of putting together, too bad he’ll be gone before she knows it.

“Well Spencer, you're all set! Thank you for stopping in today, I hope to see you again soon,” she says with a smile. Although this encounter was fleeting, she was enamored with him.

“Thank you for all your help. I wouldn't have been able to do this,” he gestured to the vase full of flowers, “without you, um, I’m so sorry I never got your name...”

“Y/n,” she supplied. “and it's no problem! Stop in whenever you'd like!”

With that, he walked out with a small wave and a smile. Y/n sighed happily, knowing that the rest of her day was going to go very well.

⋆┈┈｡ﾟ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ﾟ｡┈┈⋆

Spencer’s POV

Once I left the shop and was on my way to the care facility, I realized I couldn't stop thinking about her. Like she put me under her spell as soon as I laid my eyes upon her. I want to see her again but it’s not like I get flowers all the time for people… Maybe I should do that, for the sake of the economy and helping out a small business. Also, it makes people feel appreciated, so what's not to like about getting and giving flowers?

By the time I decided that buying flowers for people would be my new gift-giving method, I had arrived at the care facility. I took a deep breath and exited the car. I was nervous to see what kind of day my mom was having. The last time I talked to her nurses, they said she wasn’t doing as well as they had hoped once they put her on new medication. I, of course, still wanted to visit her. She’s my mom, the person that has been there for me always.

After checking in and locating her I greeted her with a smile and a warm hug.

“Oh, Spencer! I’ve missed you so much! I have to tell you about this poem by Jane Austen I read the other day…”

“I can’t wait to hear it, mom.” He said. He was so glad she was having a good day. He wanted to tell her about y/n after she said her piece.

⋆┈┈｡ﾟ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ﾟ｡┈┈⋆

“ ...and that's why I can never read it again without thinking about Stevie Nicks!” exclaimed Diana.

Spencer was having such a nice time with his mom and he must have lost track of time because when he looked at his watch it was almost the end of visiting hours. It completely slipped his mind to tell his mom about the beautiful girl who runs the flower shop.

“Mom… Do you believe in love at first sight?” he asks, a little out of the blue considering the conversation they were having before.

“Well Spencer, that’s a pretty hard question to answer. I think it all depends on the other person's first impression that they may have had on you before even opening their mouth to speak. Though I’m not sure if I’ve ever experienced that feeling firsthand…” she answered honestly.

Spencer sat there contemplating the advice he was given and said

“I met this girl today… She owns the flower shop just a few minutes away from here. She helped me pick out the flowers I gave you. She was kind and so smart. She knew the meanings of the flowers off the top of her head like it was nothing. Her smile could light up any room and I could tell she was so passionate about her job. I would like to think she would be my first experience of love at first sight…” he rambled hoping he didn’t sound foolish.

Diana looked at him and shook her head lovingly.

“She sounds wonderful, Spencer. Please tell her thank you from me the next time you see her.”

And with that, visiting hours were over and it was time for him to head home.

⋆┈┈｡ﾟ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ﾟ｡┈┈⋆

The Next Day

The next day Spencer Reid walked into the bullpen with a smile on his face and a pep in his step. He was still a bit giddy from the encounter he had yesterday, playing it over and over in his mind. The perks of having an eidetic memory. Since he works with a bunch of profilers, they were able to analyze his cheerfulness and boil it down to-

“So who’s the special lady?” Derek asked as he walked up to Spencer’s desk with two mugs in his hand, one labeled ‘Spencer Reid’.

Spencer froze, trying to make up a lie to explain his cheerful mood. “I- uh, I was j-just visiting my mom yesterday and she was having a really good day. No other ‘ladies’ in my life, thank you” he said as he snatched his mug from Derek. Tasting it and mentally noting that it needed more sugar.

Derek looked at him and obviously wasn’t convinced, but he dropped it, for now, settling for “Alright pretty boy, if you say so…” he chuckled and walked away, leaving spencer glowing red at his desk.

He folded his arms on his desk and put his head between them to hide his blush. If the day kept going on like this, he might turn into a permanent tomato.

~

A few hours later, after finishing his paperwork for the case they had finished a few days ago, he headed to Penelope’s office just to visit. In all honesty, she was just as much his best friend as Derek, just in a different way. She always gave him some much-needed positivity in his everyday life, and he will always be forever grateful to her for that.

As she walked into her lair she turned in her swivel chair and greeted him with a happy smile.

“What's Cookin good-lookin?” she teased, hearing from Morgan that something was up with him.

“Ha ha very funny Garcia.” he joked with her internally cursing Morgan for spilling the non-existent beans.

“Sooo…. Who’s the lucky lady that has caught the eye of the wonderful Junior G-Man?” Garcia teased, yet genuinely curious.

“There’s no girl I swear!” he lied through his teeth, and pretty badly at that.

Penelope shot him a look that said “Do not lie to the omnipotent being that is moi, I know all”

Spencer sighed and sat in the other spinny chair in her office and said,

“Yesterday I went to the little flower shop near my moms care facility just to do something nice for her because she hasn't been doing well recently,”

Garcia frowned a little at that and put her hand on his knee, comforting touches are just her thing and he knows that, so he doesn’t push her away, he places his hand on top of hers. He knows how much he cares.

“It was beautiful n there, but what really caught my eye was the girl working there… She was beautiful. She was so kind and she was incredibly smart. Her eyes were like honey in the sun and I’m sure she’s artistic because the sign out front was hand-painted… but all that aside, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her.” he continued.

Garcia was practically vibrating in her seat with excitement as he finished. She was just so excited to see him happy.

“Spencer oh my god! She sounds perfect! You need to ask her out like today.” she said while turning to her computer. Spencer has a feeling of what her next question is so he says,

“No, Garcia, I will not tell you her name so you can do a deep dive on her life.” as he side-eyes her. Her face contorted into a pout at his words.

“But Spencer please~, “ she begs. “I can find out all her favorite places so you can take her there for your date!”

“No Garcia… I want to get to know her properly. No FBI intervention. Plus, I want her to take me to her favorite spots because she wants me to, not because I already know what she likes…” he states as he imagines what going on a coffee date with y/n would look like.

“Alright alright fine, but pinky promise that you’ll fill me in on all the details when you eventually take her on a date.” She said while holding her pinky out for him to accept.

“Deal.” he said as he locked pinkies with her.

⋆┈┈｡ﾟ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ﾟ｡┈┈⋆

As y/n went to start cleaning up for the evening, the light ting of the bell above the shop sounded once more. As tired as she is, she turns and slaps a happy smile on her face

“Hi welcome in! How can I help you today?”

As she turns she sees the handsome man from yesterday, Spencer, if she remembers correctly. He looks even more adorable than before with his sweater vest and all-star chucks. She smiles genuinely now, tucking her curls behind her ears in an attempt to seem more casual.

“Hi again… I um I needed to get some flowers for my friend. She just announced that she’s having another baby and I wanted to congratulate her with something other than future baby items because unfortunately, I have no idea what I would get for her if I went down that route…” he trailed off, stuffing his hands in his pockets and making the Awkward White Person smile, obviously nervous and giving himself away with the rambling.

Y/n was so excited at the news of a baby she immediately got to work.

“Oh my goodness how exciting! Does she know the gender yet?” she asked just so she can accurately style the bouquet.

“Yeah! She’s having a little boy.” He smiles at that and he visibly relaxes. Y/n takes that as a sign that he’s warming up to her a little.

~

After half an hour of picking out the perfect flowers and placing them into a large vase, y/n finally tied a blue silk ribbon around the neck of it. She added a few finishing touches and voila! Her masterpiece was complete.

All the while Spencer was standing on the other side of the counter watching her work with such adoration in his eyes. He enjoyed watching her work. Adding flair and certain specializations to every bouquet to make them each unique.

After finishing y/n peers to the side of the large vase of flowers to look at Spencer in the eyes. To her surprise, he’s already leaned over and looking at her too. They share a brief moment of admiration of each other before getting embarrassed and looking away like a couple of high school kids.

“So, since this is a gift for a friend, It’ll be on the house…” she says desperately hoping he’ll pick up on the hint this time.

“Oh my god...I - I can’t let you do that. Here,” he takes out his wallet and tries to pull out 35$ in cash.

y/n reaches over and puts her hands over his. “That’s not necessary, really. I don’t mind…” she says this with a warm smile. Just being able to spend these few fleeting moments with him in her shop has brought her so much joy.

“Thank you… That’s so generous of you, but I can’t just let you give me a whole flower arrangement without something in return…” he stalls. “Would you let me take you out for coffee? I know a great spot near the farmers market, and it has a flower booth too…” His hands are trembling a bit but she doesn’t notice because she’s smiling so hard her cheeks are beginning to feel sore.

She nods enthusiastically and says “Yes. Of course, I’ll go out with you.”

She slides him a piece of paper with her number on it and leans over to kiss him on the cheek. He accepts it and flushes so brightly, it rivals that of the sun. They wave goodbye after scheduling their date for Saturday, and y/n could tell that soon this relationship would be in full bloom.

Fin~

tag list:

pls message me if you’d like to be added or removed <3 !!

@ssavanessa22 @boldlyvoid @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @meganskane @ilovespencerreidmarryme @g0lden-cth

[gryffindordaughterofathena]

(1) Meet Cute? I'd Rather Die

Book : Open Heart

Pairing : Bryce Lahela x Valerie Thomas

Word Count : 1090 words

Rating : General

Category : Fluff but we'll get to it in time

Trope : None Applicable

Warning : None

Series Summary : Bryce Lahela charms everyone he meets and Valerie Thomas smiles only at three people and none of them are Bryce. But as stories usually do some things are supposed to make you fall in love right? Right?

A/N : Hi! I have been missing since I posted a fic back in February, there were two reasons for that 1. I had exams and 2. I simply couldn't write. But yesterday some of the dialogue here simply came to me unprompted, so here we are. This is going to be five chapters which will span around three years of my timeline of the Oph universe.

❥︎ The Story Of Us Series Masterlist

HER POV

It was never Valerie's intention to spend her first day at Bloom Edenbrook arguing with her extremely frustrating, head-ache-inducing colleague, whom she met about twenty minutes ago, but as fate would have it, that was exactly what she spent her first day doing.

"That was an extremely risky procedure and you know it, Doctor Lahela."

"But it did pay off", came his reply, accompanied by a cocky green.

"Pay off?", she could hear her own voice rising, "This could have killed the patient and I think you are not so dumb to not realize that you could have lost your licence for that."

"I would have not done anything to endanger a life." for a second his grin gives way to something genuine, something that makes her think Diana was right, maybe he isn't so insufferable after all.

"But are you worried for me Thomas?"

Nope. Insufferable. Irritating. Typical example of a man trying to charm everything that breathes.

"I can't believe how—", she cuts herself off from completing the sentence with "Diana could be friends with you.", with how loyal her best friend was it would not be the sign of a good friend to bring her in this conversation.

"Can't believe what Thomas?"

"It's none of your business, stop following me and go wherever you go to fix your impeccable hair in between surgeries."

Completely missing her sarcasm Bryce lights up, "so you think my hair is—"

She doesn't hear the rest of the sentence, taking the nearest exit on her left.

This is going to be a long day.

She needed to take a break, the previous surgery had rattled her, Bryce taking unnecessary risks doing nothing to lessen her first day nerves.

She had always been used to people looking up at her for ideas on what to do back at AIMMC. But no one knew her here. No one listened to her advice here. The interns all looked at Bryce and his risk taking ways for advice.

She was a nobody.

Valerie Thomas is not used to anonymity.

She needed Diana. Her unbridled optimism balancing out Valerie's subdued realism.

Maybe she can ask a nurse for directions to the Diagnostic Team Office.

Bloom Edenbrook was fucking big. Some kind of non-magical Hogwarts. Even with directions she was pretty sure she was lost.

Taking what must have been her fifth turn on the seventh floor, she almost ran into someone carrying a stack of files, stopping herself right on time because of the warning from the other woman's heels clicking on the linoleum.

"Oh, I am sorry" the woman called out, "I didn't see you"

Wait. I know that voice.

"Doctor Emery I- it's alright."

From when do you stutter?

"Oh wait you are Doctor Thomas isn't it? Good job on both your surgeries today, I will only be expecting this performance from you moving forward."

Talk you idiot. Say something. Don't just stare like a creep.

"Thanks Doctor Emery."

That's something at least.

"Well since I already found you here, I have some news for you. I have been selecting a few third and fourth year residents to take up some of my cases while I get settled in the Diagnostic Team. I am selecting you"

What the fuck what the fuck what the-

"— there are a few difficult cases, so residents will need to pair up."

not him not him not him-

"And Dr. Tanaka suggested pairing you up with Lahela, he said you two make a great team."

shit

"We will make a formal announcement tomorrow. But do inform Lahela."

like hell I will

"And Thomas? I expect the best from you."

well there's no better way to say this but– fuck

She needed a drink or preferably five.

"I can't believe you aren't talking more about how Harper praised you, you Valerie I-want-to-be-Harper-Emery-When-I-Grow-Up Thomas."

"Were you screaming like this when you met Ethan on your first day here?"

"No, but he had insulted me and assigned me a deadline within three hours of meeting me."

"I believe I bought you a drink at this very place, Rookie.", her boyfriend commented wryly.

"That's beside the point. I want to know why she's not more excited. Harper selected her to take up a few of her own cases her first day here. She should be happy."

"Owlet, she assigned me a partner for the cases."

"So what?"

"I don't get along well with him."

"You don't even know the people here Valie."

"It's Bryce, Diana. Your friend Bryce. Do you really want me to argue with him all the time? Do you really want to take sides when he inevitably fucks up because of his recklessness?" her patience was running thin.

"Valerie—" she began.

"No, don't tell me he won't do that. I know him for twenty minutes and he already did that once."

"Val, his methods are risky but they work and he would never endanger someone's life."

"You don't know that."

"I do. I know him just as well as I know you, Val." Her eyes take that glint it gets whenever she is passionate about something.

"You are level headed enough for the two of you. I have worked with Bryce on a surgery two years back, I know he will listen to your inputs. You are both amazing, don't let simple differences get in the way of that."

There she did it. Exactly what she had known Di would do. Simplified things that aren't simple with her optimism.

And now she would have to keep her frustrations about Bryce Lahela to herself, no one likes the look of disappointment on Diana Ramirez's face.

"What are you doing here?"

Sitting. Drinking. Regretting Life. The Usual.

"Hey, Bryce! Where are the others?"

of course he'd be here, when has life ever been easy?

"Running late but what's she doing here?"

"Bryce—"

"Thomas. You are Valerie aren't you?"

so he didn't know who I am

"Took you long to catch up."

"Why didn't you say so when we met this morning?"

"Probably because that's work and I found it irrelevant"

"Val—" Di began.

But perhaps because she was a little drunk. Or perhaps because she liked tormenting people she found herself saying, "Start reading up on safer surgical processes because Dr. Emery teamed us up and from tomorrow we are focusing on not killing people." and each other.

Well this is gonna be fun.

A/N : If you've read this far, thank you ❤ I hope you will love Val as much as I love her with this series, she's such a different character from Diana or Dan that I was kinda nervous to write her. A few things, about her, she is Diana's best friend from when she was seventeen, a surgical resident at AIMMC who then transferred to Bloom Edenbrook because of all the extra resources here, all of the Boston gang knows about her from Social Media but only Sienna, Jackie and Ethan met her back when she visited after the 2.11 attack.

Tags :

@openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations

Perma :

@a-crepusculo | @choicesfanaf | @coffeeheartaddict2 | @crazy-loca-blog | @genevievemd | @headoverheelsforramsey | @jamespotterthefirst | @jerzwriter | @maurine07 | @mm2305 | @natureblooms24 | @potionsprefect | @quixoticdreamer16 | @rookiemartin | @rosebudde | @schnitzelbutterfingers | @shreyasrivathsa | @sincerelyscarring | @sweetheartdetectivex | @terrm9 | @zahrachoices

[fiftyshadesgrl]

WRECKED PART 18

I know it's been a long time since I have updated this series but here is the newest chapter. I hope you all like it.

"Open your fuckin eyes y/n!" Negans harsh words were muffled, he sounded worried. My head felt full, to heavy and the throb behind my eyes made me want to scream. I tried but I couldn't move a muscle or say anything. I felt like I was floating maybe I really was dead. "Tell Sarah to get her fucking ass to the medical tent!"

"Ne....gan." that was as much as I could muster up. My eyes opened just slightly, enough to see negan and the blur of trees. I must have been in his arms and he was running. I was numb everywhere, except for that damn throb in my head.

Negan glanced at me for a second, "it's okay baby, we are almost there. You just hang in there." His voice so soft but why was there fear in it. It hurt to much to think right now and my vision began to tunnel again. I just wanted to sleep.

"Sle...eeep." I croaked out but before I fully succumbed to it I heard negans harsh voice. "Dont you fuckin dare go to sleep. You stay the fuck awake. You fuckin hear me! Damn it y/n, don't fuckin do this to me!"

I tried, I really did to keep my eyes open like he wanted but there was just no way to fight it.

Negans pov

The medical tent was in sight, my fuckin heart felt like it was going to burst from my chest. It wasn't from carrying y/n or running while doing so. It was fuckin fear. Something I haven't felt in a really fuckin long time. Not since my first wife. I don't handle this emotion well and I refuse to let this be the end for me and y/n.

Simon jumped out from the woods beside me just as the dirt road turned gravel. He kept pace with me every step of the way. "If Sarah isn't in that fuckin tent then she will have a date with Lucille later."

Simon was breathing heavy but never faltering. "I radioed when we found her. She should be there." He glanced over at y/n and then back ahead, "is she gonna be okay?"

"I'm not a fuckin doctor!" The tent was a fee seconds away. Simon jumped ahead of me and held it open so I could get y/n in quickly. Sarah stood there, worry etching her face. When I laid y/n on the table worry was replaced by horror.

Sarah started an IV, then began examining the wound. "Sir, i...I don't know...this is bad."

"Do what you fuckin have to to save her. That means shut your fuckin mouth and do your job!" The woman flinched at my words, good she should be.

"Sir, she's lost alot of blood. She will more than likely need a transfusion and her heart may give out before we can type her and find someone with the type she needs. If she has internal bleeding I'm not qualified enough nor do I have the tools here to stop it. The baby is also a concern..."

"Shut the fuck up!" I yelled in her face, she jumped back but only for a second. She refocused back on my wife, "You will save her. No matter what you have to do, my wife will not fuckin die. If she does, so will you. Do you fuckin understand that!?"

She nodded quickly, "yes sir." I watched as she began to hook y/n up to a heart monitor and some other lines. There was a slow beeping sound on the heart monitor but Sarah kept working. I had to walk outside for a moment because seeing my strong wife like this brought up those old emotions and I couldnt take that right now.

I spotted Simon and quickly made my way to him. "I wanna know who these new fuckers are and I want to know now!"

"We didn't see anyone in the woods like y/n described. They are either really skilled at hiding or." I cut Simon off, "don't you dare say she was fucking hallucinating or some shit."

"No sir, I was going to say or they are new to the area. I wouldn't put it past Rick that he was involved somehow." Simon adjusted his belt and shifted on his feet as if saying Rick's name made him nervous.

I slung Lucille over my shoulder, "I think it's a good fuckin idea if we pay that fucker a visit." Simon smiled and nodded then walked towards the sanctuary. I stayed outside for a few more minutes then I heard Sarah's voice. "Sir." When I turned around she had blood all over her shirt, my stomach about dropped outta my ass at the sight. "Shes stable, but it's going to be touch and go for a while."

"You just saved your ass." I told her as I walked past her. Before I entered the tent I also added, "wanna keep it that way, keep her alive."

Y/N POV

My brain was so fuzzy feeling, my eyes tried to open but they felt as if they were glued together. I tried to swallow but my throat felt like it was lined with sandpaper. "Y/n? Can you hear me?" A woman's voice sounded from beside me, I know that voice. My eyes opened slightly, she was sitting beside me holding a cup of water. My lips felt so dry and the water was so tempting. "You have to wake up a little more before you get the water." I willed myself to wake up because I really wanted that water. She nodded her approval and put the cup to my lips I drank and drank until there was none left.

"Better?" Sarah asked, I nodded which made the room spin. "You are one lucky duck. You had no internal bleeding and your baby is fine. It just went through your muscle, I stitched you up and you'll be down for a while but you'll recover."

I breathed a sigh of relief because my baby was okay. That's the one thing I was worried about, it didn't matter about me but my baby had to live. "Negan is going to be relieved to know you're awake and are gonna be okay." A shiver ran through me at the mention of his name. He's going to be so angry with me, he will never want me again.

"I gave you some pain meds so you'll be comfortable for a while. Negan is out now getting more. He should be back anytime." Sarah walked around me and checked the tube and monitors before she seemed to relax.

"How...long?" I whispered but thankfully she knew what I meant.

"You've been out for eight days. You lost a lot of blood and it was a good thing you were out so long. Your body has had time to start healing without you moving around." The sound of a truck approaching got both of our attention, "that's probably negan now."

I shook with fear, not knowing what negan would say or do when he found out I was awake. He burst through the door but said nothing, he just stood there staring. Sarah came in right behind him placing various bottles and another bag on the table.

"Sarah, is she good enough for you take a lunch break?" Negan asked in his low no bull shit voice.

Sarah waked over to the monitor above my bed, "she will be good until I get back." With that Sarah left not saying another word. Negan slowly sat down in the chair beside me, his leather jacket squeaking as he sat. He didn't say anything, he just sat there glaring at me.

"Negan." I began but he cut me off by holding up his hand.

"Save it. I don't want to hear any bullshit fucking excuses. You are in this position because you couldn't follow orders, one fucking order!" The muscle in his jaw ticked, "you are my fucking wife, carrying my fucking child. You almost died, so did my baby just because you have to show off your big fuckin lady balls!"

"I know." I closed my eyes, I felt my tears falling but I didn't care.

Negan jumped up and the chair clattering to the floor making me jump. "Oh no! Don't you fucking pull that shit on me. You don't get to be fuckin upset when this is all your fault."

"I know. But negan." I started again but he wasn't done talking.

"Every second you are in pain doesn't compare to the pain I fuckin felt when I thought I lost you." He stepped back beside my bed seemingly more calm, "now because of you I have double the fuckin work to do. I have to deal with Rick and his bullshit and I have to find whatever group you ran into. So don't expect me to be coming by and visiting."

"But-"

"No! I've got shit to deal with." With that he left me. Sarah came back a while later just when my pain meds started to wear off. I didn't care, like negan said I deserved this. I feel like I've lost everything, Sarah noticed my tears and came to sit beside me.

"He's been through alot honey. There was a few days there that I didn't know if I could save you. He will come around."

I shook my head, "no, no he won't. I think I just lost my husband for good

@missamberv @an-unhealthy-obsession @vicmc624 @tftumblin @justanotherwinchester @jesseswartzwelder @holylulusworld @fangirl199812 @emerloveskate

[wendystales]

Memories - lrh (Chapter Twenty Four)

Memories (also on Wattpad)

Chapter Twenty Three ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ Chapter Twenty Five

Marnie pov.

The sensation is like being punched in the stomach. You lose your breath and immediately feel a terrible pain gnawing through your entire body, reaching down to your last strand of hair. Your heart starts pumping blood faster, so that your body can overcome the pain and you have the strength to fight back, but I can't.

I can't get over the pain. I can't react better than staring at Pamela wearing his shirt, in his room. I can't move, let alone make my brain work to process all this. What is she doing here?

“What…” my voice barely has the strength to come out.

That wasn't the plan. She shouldn't be here. Luke called her? Have they been talking? How long has she been with him? I don't remember seeing pictures of them together recently. Does it also have John's finger in it?

"Marnie? I can't believe you actually came. God damn is a lot of courage, or lack of notion, I don't know.” she looks at me in utter disapproval.

I focus my eyes inside the room, wanting to find any clue that it wasn't Luke's room. It can not be. But everything indicates, unfortunately, I'm wrong. The boots at the door, the coat on the armchair, the guitar on the sofa, the scattered candles. It's his room. Shit, it's his room.

“What are you doing here?” I gather forces to confront.

“Stop it, Marnie. We are not innocent little children. We both know very well what I'm doing here. The question is, what are you doing here?” Pamela crosses her arms, raising her eyebrows.

For the first time in years since I've known her, I feel intimidated. Tiny against her. The slightest thought that Luke is with her makes me nauseous. I suck air, in an attempt to maintain my pose, even fragile.

“I came to talk to Luke. We have business to attend to. Where is he?” I move towards the bedroom, but she stops me.

“First, you have nothing else to deal with. It’s over. You ended it all yourself. Which, honestly, came as a shock to me. Nothing personal, but I always thought Luke would kick you.”

My breath catches, giving signs that I'm about to cry, and I can't bear the thought of doing it in front of her. My chest starts to rise and fall fast, demonstrating that her words are having an effect on me.

“Second, Luke is in the shower, as you can hear.” for the first time, my ears pick up the sound of the shower running. “It's been a long afternoon.” Pam flashes a disgusting smile. She lets out a short laugh.

I hug my body, wanting to get out of there or scream for someone to help me. But my voice doesn't seem to work. My brain doesn't seem to work. On the way here I even prepared myself for the sad possibility of running into Luke with just any girl, but not Pamela.

“Look, I know you must think I hate you and all that bullshit, but I never had anything against you. Even because deep down I knew that Luke's crush on you wouldn't last. I've known him for years and I know what he's like. He lives in moments and yours is gone.”

Pamela rests her hand on my shoulder, looking deep into my eyes. A chill runs through my body and all I feel is embarrassament. Embarrassed to be here. That Luke would want to see and hear me. To think that maybe he was waiting for me. That maybe everything would work out.

"If I can give you a hint as a friend, as a woman, if you like. Leave before Luke sees you here at his door and you have to be embarrassed more than you already are. Seriously. After everything that happened you come here?!” Pamela makes a face. “I mean, I was kinda hoping, but deep down, I thought you'd be better than that and not lend yourself to this ridiculous role. I say this for your own good.”

Nothing.

I can't say anything. I can't react. I can't even explode internally. I just wanted to dig a hole in the ground and disappear.

“Well, since we've taken care of everything, if you'll excuse me, I need to get ready for the show. Bye-bye.”

Pam doesn't even give me time to listen to what she says, and closes the door in my face, locking it. I stare at the wood for a few more seconds, before the pain engulfs me alive. My heart beats so slow and so deep that for a moment I think I'm going to pass out.

A sob echoes down the hallway announcing my crying. I force myself out of there, before any of them see me, before Luke sees me like this. Just imagining him looking at me with contempt for showing up there makes everything worse inside me.

I try helplessly to dry my tears, not wanting to cry anymore about it. I feel my body heavy with weariness. I can't take it anymore. I just want to get into bed and disappear into the sheets. My mind feels sluggish, also exhausted from struggling to think of solutions for how to get back to what I had before. Exhausted from deluding myself and getting disappointed by reality.

I walk down the hall, swallowing my tears with all the strength I have left, forcing myself to hold my ground, but I lose focus when I hear that whistle and just see him enter the hallway. I stop in my tracks, wondering if I'm fantasizing. I heard the shower.

I take a step back, not knowing what to do, watching the tall Australian walk towards me, focused on his phone, not noticing my presence. For seconds I'm rooting for it, but I know it's impossible. And I think deep down, I don't want to either. I want him to look at me, to feel his heart race, the same way I'm feeling mine right now.

Luke stops whistling when he sees me. He looks so different from the boy I met at Ash's party, or the man I saw when I woke up in that hospital. He looked a little thinner and his eyes were deep because of the dark circles under. How long has he not slept? I let myself drown in his blue eyes, which look more intense now. I delete everything, focusing only on him. Amnesia. John. Pamela, everything seems to disappear from my mind.

I lean against the wall, feeling the hallway spin. He's here. After a month away from him, he's here, so close I can smell his scent. I take a deep breath, taking an uncertain step toward him. It's time to settle this.

Before I can control myself, I walk faster towards him, bumping into his body, hugging him. It takes Luke a few seconds to process what was happening, but as soon as he realizes it's really me there, his arms go around me, squeezing me tightly.

I inhale his perfume, letting that fragrance run through my bloodstream, causing a tingle through my body and waking up the long-sleeping butterflies in my stomach.

“My God, you're here.” Luke whispers, pulling away a little, cupping my face. “Please say I'm not hallucinating.” he caresses my cheeks.

“You’re not! I'm here.” I crack a smile through my tears, hugging him again.

“Damn! I missed you so much.” his voice makes my body shiver.

His nervous and anxious hands run all over my body, squeezing me, making sure more and more I'm here. I don't judge him, as I do the same, touching his shoulders, arms and neck. Like a defibrillator shock, my body pulses when I feel his lips on my neck. Before I get distracted, I step away from him, keeping a safe distance, not letting emotion outweigh reason.

"We need to talk." we ended up talking together.

“Sorry, you first. What are you doing here?” Luke asks, smoothing his hair.

“I came to talk to you about what happened. I came to tell you the truth.” Luke takes a step towards me, touching my waist. Once again the touch releases a shock through my body, causing me to crave more.

“Okay. Come on! Let's talk.” he guides me towards the bedroom. I stop my steps when I notice. Luke looks at me confused and it all comes back to me. Pamela.

"What's Pamela doing in your room?" the question comes out before I think.

“What?” he ends up screaming, which echoes down the hall. “Oh shit! Okay, she's in my room, but that's not what you're thinking, Marnie. She soiled her shirt and I went down to buy a new one.” he explains quickly, stumbling over a few words.

I think about refuting his words, but the bedroom door opens, revealing a confused Calum looking sideways, eyes widening as soon as he sees me. I can't control my smile seeing your face after weeks.

"Marnie?" he asks, taking a step out of the room.

"Marnie?" I hear Ashton's louder voice, which in a few seconds, bursts through the door, nearly running over Calum, coming quickly towards me.

I let out a scream as his arms wrap around me, lifting me off the ground and rolling me in midair. Within seconds, still hugging Ashton, I feel more people joining the two of us.

“What do you do here?” Ash asks, confused.

“I came to talk to Luke.” I refocus on the blonde, who looked anxious and a little jealous “Actually, with all of you somehow. I came to tell you what happened and it's still happening.”

The four look at each other suspiciously, but agree. I approach Luke, still nervous, not knowing if I could pull him by the hand, even if I wanted to.

“I need to leave this in the bedroom. I will meet you in Michael's room.” Hemmings warns, taking on a serious expression, turning away from me.

I watch him enter the room and close the door. I remember Pamela in there and my stomach turns. Ash takes my hand, pulling me into Mike's room. With every step I take, I don't take my eyes off door 1504, wishing it would open fast, but it remains closed. Why is he taking so long?

I walk into Michael's room, finding Sophie standing there, twisting her fingers with a huge smile on her face. I walk towards her, greeting her with a hug.

“Good to see you again.” she reveals, taking me by surprise, after all we don't spend a lot of time together.

“Are you okay? Want something? Do you need something?” Michael starts to ask.

"I'm fine, thanks."

"Where's your arm cast?" Calum points.

“If it's not there…” Ashton looks at his friend teasingly.

“I took it out! My arm has already healed.” I answer Calum, ignoring sassy Irwin.

"What about amnesia? How are you?” Ash asks.

At that moment, I hold my breath. I focused so much on talking about John that I completely forgot about the end of amnesia. I open my mouth, working out a way to tell this without affecting the initial plan, unmasking John.

Lucky for me, someone knocks on the door and Michael rushes it open, revealing Luke. I notice her slightly flushed cheeks and her dark eyes. He's not okay. Awkwardly, I get up from the couch, facing him, as if it's the first time we've been seeing each other. I wait for him to take the seat beside me, but he takes a seat in the front, far away.

“ I'm going to take a walk at the hotel, it seems like a serious conversation.” Sophie gets up, but I stop her.

“No! Stay! It will be good for you to be aware of that too.”

Finally Sophie takes her seat beside me, putting me between her and Ashton. I scan everyone there who looks more terrified than I am. The time has come. I take a deep breath, feeling my mouth reach out. I thought I would be more prepared.

“I didn't do everything I did just because I wanted to. I never wanted to leave LA, nor ignore your attempts at contact, let alone break up whatever I was having.” I look at Luke, who looks away awkwardly.

"So what happened?" Calum asks. I take a few more deep breaths, taking in my courage.

"John manipulated me. It made me believe I was getting in your way. That my image was getting in your way.” the words come out at once.

I catch my eye on them, finding Michael, Cal, and Ash looking at each other in shock and Luke staring at me aloof.

“Wait, when did this happen?” Michael questions.

“On Friends of Friends day. I bumped into him leaving the studio. He asked if we could talk. At that moment he just wanted me to convince Luke and you guys to take that trip to promote the singles, remember?! And I was going to do it. But then the music came and he freaked out. He said that either I walked away or he damaged the band and I didn't want to take any risks.”

Dead silence fills the room. I start to take a deep breath, nervous about the reactions. Ash rubbed his forehead, upset. Calum was slumped in his chair, staring into space. Michael blinked rapidly, sighing. Poor Sophie didn't even move and Luke, staring at me with a frown.

“Why didn't you tell me?” Luke's voice finally reaches my ears. I stare at him, intimidated. He still looks confused.

"I didn't know if I should. I was scared, didn't I think t-”

“But we talked about it. Several times.” he interrupts me, standing up.

“Yes! Before amnesia. But then we never talked about John or what he tried to do to both of us. I was afraid of harming you, I didn't want to risk a threat. If it weren't for the amnesia, I wouldn't have listened to him.”

"And what made you change your mind now?" he folds his arms.

It's like a bucket of cold water. I prepared so much for this moment. For Luke not to want to listen to me. Listening to me and not wanting me back, but I didn't prepare myself for that.

I analyze your expression and body posture. He looks at me like he doesn't know me. As if I was saying something out of the reality that we live.

"You don't believe me, do you?" I suck in air, missing him.

I blink several times, processing the information and adapting to the new scenario. I rub my hands on my pants, feeling sweaty and cold.

“I'm not saying that, Marnie." he approaches. I stand up, wanting distance.

“You don't have to, it's in your face.” I accuse him.

“The point is, it's a sensitive topic. It's a pretty serious charge, he's our manager.” Luke raises his voice.

Nausea and irritation is all I feel. Luke doesn't believe me. I thought that would be impossible considering our background with John, but apparently I'm wrong.

“You know you could have told me.” Hemmings continues, getting irritated too.

“No, Luke! I couldn't. Because I didn't know. I had amnesia. I had no idea how to handle all of this. Fame, money, media. I didn't have any preparation. I got thrown into it. I had to learn from day to day, without an instruction manual. I sacrificed my happiness for you.”

“I never asked you to.” he points a finger at me.

Once again I lose my breath. I don't recognize it. In fact, I even recognize this posture. That's why we fought so much in the beginning. But it's not the same Luke. At least not mine.

"I didn't think it was necessary." my voice cracks.

“Marnie, the point is, it doesn't make sense. John spent this entire month taking care of me and asking me if I wanted him to talk to you, to try to get you to see me. And now, you arrive saying that he forced you to leave? You did have a chance to ask for help-”

“For you? For you do what, Luke? Argue with him like you always did and then you guys have to hear from the record company for ‘going against the manager's orders’? I'm sorry if I wanted to stop you from sticking your feet in and that it harms you more.” I end up screaming.

A sob escapes me and I realize I'm crying. That was the last thing I wanted.

"And how kind of him to act like he really cares about us. Even cuz he never interfered between us, right? He never insinuated that I cheated on you with Ashton and a million other people. Or that you were always drunk during the tours, causing trouble with the team. No! John has always been a saint.”

“M&Ms…” Luke tries to hold me back, but the touch annoys me.

“No!” I walk away. "I'm tired of this. I came to warn you about John and that's what I did. The decision is now yours.” I ignore everyone looking at us.

I grab my bag and march to the door. Luke still calls out to me, but I completely ignore it, feeling my body heavy as if I've competed in a triathlon.

I open the door, stopping abruptly. I stare at Ashton who's already on his feet.

“About my amnesia.” I turn my gaze to Luke, who has his jaw set. "It’s over." the last thing I see is his pupils dilate. I walk down the hall, hearing Ash call me, but I don't stop.

I choose the stairs, not wanting anyone to reach me waiting for the elevator. I manage to go down two flights, but unfortunately Ashton catches me.

“Hey! Listen me.” he yells as I try to break free. “I believe you. Okay?”

So I stop. My head stills for two minutes, reminding me of the fact that Luke didn't believe me. I cover my face, crying, letting Ashton pull me into his body, hugging me.

“Ignore everything Luke said. I don't think anyone expected that. He just doesn't know how to handle it. He believes in you, just let him take it all in.” Ash pats my back, rocking me like a baby.

“It was so hard to hold all that and walk away. And now that I remembered everything and saw that I could count on you.” My throat closes up, intensifying my crying.

“It's okay! It's gonna be okay. I promise you.” he squeezes me tighter.

I start to let go when I hear hurried footsteps on the stairs. Ash steps in front of me, but relaxes when Sophie enters our field of vision. I turn onto my back, trying to dry my face, embarrassed.

“Sorry, we were worried about her. Michael took the elevator down. Calum and Luke are upstairs. Luke wants to talk to you, Marnie.”

A fake laugh comes out as I shake my head no. If I see Luke now, it will make everything worse.

"I don't want to see him. I want to leave.” I go back down the flights to the next floor, calling the elevator.

I notice Sophie and Ash beside me. We walked down the path in pure silence, while I still shed tears of sadness and anger. As soon as the door opens, I head toward where Eddie had been standing, finding him standing, talking to Michael.

I ignore Clifford's presence, hugging my friend and begging him to get me out of there. Edward hugs me a little scared and starts pulling me out of the hotel.

“Can I go with you?” I hear Sophie's voice reluctantly. Everyone stares at her, who blushes. "I don't want you to be alone."

I look over at Michael, who just shakes his head, giving the girl a quick peck before she rushes to my side.

“Wait!” Irwin asks. “Where are you? I want to see you after the show. Know better about what happened.”

"I'll text you."

I say goodbye to them one more time and hug Eddie, I head to the black sedan that was on the other side of the street. I can feel my friend's eagerness to know what happened, but Edward controls himself, leaving me quiet in my corner, mulling over every word I hear.

Luke didn't believe me.

Luke pov.

I still hadn't processed everything that was going on. It was supposed to be a normal day, I didn't imagine I would meet Marnie in the hallway of my room. Yes, I thought about trying to go after her, thought about calling, but I couldn't stand the idea of ​​her despising me.

Then, like a miracle, I see her there, like the first time I saw her. Her hair was long and dark, like she was twenty-one again. I was afraid it was a piece of my mind, wasn’t really there, but it was.

The moment I felt her in my arms, it was like coming back to life. My body relaxed for the first time since she was gone. I felt the blood rush through my veins and pump my heart like never before. She's here.

My hands touched her entire body, wanting to confirm her presence, wanting to feel her touch. My lips tingled, begging for hers. I don't even know why she showed up, but I just knew I never wanted her to go again.

But she is gone.

It slipped through my fingers and I couldn't even hold it back. Why did I have to argue? Why did I have to debate? What a damn habit of arguing with her. Just listen. She was there, in front of me, so close. Then I could be alone with her. I could fix everything, but no. No, I had to be an asshole.

The bedroom door opens, showing Michael and Ashton. I get up, looking for Marnie's small body behind them, but they're alone.

“She left.” Ashton replies, even before I open my mouth.

"Did you let her go?" a rage born within me.

“No! I didn't do anything, Luke. You let her go. Was it hard to listen in silence? She comes here risking everything if John catches her, and you dispute what she says?” Irwin wears an expression as irritated as mine.

“What the fuck! I didn't object! But it is a serious charge. It's going to be her word against his and who do you think will win this shit?” I shout. "John can finish her off and you think I want that?! I just wanted to be completely sure what she was talking about. Evidence, I don't know. Things that could protect her. Things that ensure that I can protect her.”

“She doesn't want to gain anything, Luke. She wants you. She wants you to be by her side, no matter what. She wants you to believe her. Yeah, all this shit took me by surprise too. John has been with us for four or five years and has always taken care of us, but we can't pretend we don't know he's gone overboard a few times.”

“Few times?” Mike whistles, shaking his head. “Several times, and we talked about it a lot. Girls, birthday parties, special holidays. If don't agree with what he agrees with, he sticks his finger in the middle.”

I know John is not the best person in the world. He has every possible flaw. But I don't want to believe he got to that point. Threatening Marnie, forcing her to walk away from me.

I knew it was a lie. When she said she couldn't fall in love with me. I could see in her eyes that she was lying. So why couldn't I see that she needed help?

I should have gone after her. I should have come to New York before. Put her against the wall no matter how many times she yelled at me. But I let her go. I let it slip through my fingers.

“No. No. You're not going after her now.” Ashton, stop me.

"I thought I was supposed to be by her side." I retort, annoyed.

“And it is you idiot, but like that, in this state, you're just going to argue more. Remember what she said, ‘putting everything down’? We cannot do this now. Cool your head, organize your ideas and then you go after it. I arranged to see her after the show, to find out more details.”

"Why you and not me?" I cross my arms.

“Because I didn't argue with the girl. Pay attention.” he raises his tone, slapping my head. "I'll check her and then I'll try to convince her to talk to you. Now let's get ready for the show and stay calm. Let's go.”

Reluctantly, I head to my room, heading straight for a shower. I press my forehead against the wall, letting thoughts race through my mind. I go over the whole situation. I am very unlucky.

First, when I'm about to get rid of Pam, she ‘accidentally’ stains her shirt. Afterwards, I only leave the room for 20 minutes, but that's long enough for Marnie to show up and pick up Pamela. Then I manage to make her stay and tell me the truth and finally I shit everything up.

My heart sinks as my head shows me her teary eyes, looking at me like I'm a stranger.

I remember when she looked at me like that in the hospital and it was the worst pain in the world. I shouldn't have suspected her. I shouldn't. I finish my shower, heading to bed, lying down, not wanting to go to the show. I just wanted to stay here and pray that Ash would convince her to talk to me again. But I didn't have much choice.

Unfortunately, we still had an hour to go and I know that until then I'm going to get bogged down in my thoughts.

[...]

I go out the side of the stage, with my head still in the clouds. From the hotel to the studio, until taking the stage, I was silent, mulling over my mistake. I texted Marnie, but they didn't even come.

“What a show, guys. You rock it.” John congratulates us in the dressing room.

I notice everyone looking at each other, uncomfortable. I stare at John, wondering at the mood, but keeping that fake smile. I imagine him intimidating Marnie, leaving her terrified. Making her run away. I see her face in the back of my mind the day she broke up with me. Her apology before walking out the door.

I can feel my face hardening, as my heart races, making me take a deep breath. Without being able to analyze my thoughts and control my attitudes, I march to John, with that anger rising through my body.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Calum rising quickly and moving closer. John wipes the smirk off his face, taking on a worried face now.

"Did you tell Marnie to get away from me?" I question.

Letterman runs his eyes past me and the guys behind me. I feel Michael's hand on my shoulder, squeezing. I want to scream at him to answer, but John lets out a low laugh.

“That bitch even took a while to open her mouth.”

I hold my breath. Feeling that punch in the pit of your stomach. Now it was Calum and Ash's hand joining Michael's, trying to pull me away from John.

“What did you say?” I blow, with my chest swelling more.

“I told her to stay away from you, because if it weren't for me, you'd be in deep shit. Staying in Los Angeles taking care of that retarted while your career sinks, that's the-”

The movement is very fast. I manage to untangle my arm from Michael's grip and land a punch to the bastard's nose, sending him staggering backward. I step forward to hit more, however the three of them step in front of me, pushing me to the wall.

I know I'm yelling disconnected stuff, just to debate John, but I want to get him one more punch. For the band, for me and for my girl.

“Let me go!” I yell to the three of them just as Hale the security pulls Letterman out of the room.

"What the fuck was that?" Ash asks, his eyes wide.

"I couldn't look at his face knowing everything he did. I needed to confront. And did you hear him talking about her?” I pace, panting from adrenaline. “That son of a bitch. I will finish him.”

I advance towards the door. But the three of them hold me back.

“You're not going to do any shit. That's exactly what Marnie didn't want you to do.” Calum, push me to the couch.

“We have to deal with this.” Irwin begins. "We have to get John out of his post, otherwise he'll hurt us and Marnie."

Marnie.

I close my eyes, touching myself now from the shit I've done. Again. John knows Marnie told me and maybe he'll go after her to do something. I can't let him get close to her again.

"Where are you going?" Mike asks, watching me grab my wallet.

"I'm going after my girlfriend." I head for the door, willing to get anyone out of my way.

"Ashton didn't say to wait until tomorrow?" Hood asks.

“Screw this.”

It's the last thing I say before striding down the halls. I dodge a few photographers, giving a fake smile so as not to feed the headlines, and get in the car, trying to get in touch with her.

The problem is, she doesn't answer me. Who can help me? Who can help me? I scroll through the list of contacts, looking for the only name that could help me right now.

“Leah? I need Marnie's address, please.” I say as soon as she answers.

“I'm going to stick a stiletto heel up your ass, Hemmings. What kind of shit do you have in your head?” she screams. I roll my eyes.

“I know I screwed up and I'm trying to fix it. Can you give me the address or not?” I scream, irritated.

“Okay, but I didn't tell you.”

I give the address to the driver, feeling the anxiety rise within me with every street and traffic light the car crosses. I stop in front of a tall building, running to the interphone. I find her last name and dig my finger into the button.

Come on, Marnie! Answer me! Answer me! Answer me!

“Yes?” I recognize the male voice, the same as that day.

"Where's Marnie? I need to talk to her? Marnie, please, please listen to me.” The words slur as I speak into the microphone.

“Marnie isn't here, Luke.” the voice calmly warns me.

“What?”

I need to lean against the wall, feeling my blood pressure drop. Where is she? I look around, as if that's how I'm going to find her. Not again.

“Go up. I'll explain it to you better.”

The door unlocks and I rush inside. In the elevator, I force my mind to unravel where she could have gone. She came to New York a few times, but she never had a favorite place.

In the hallway, I spot this Edward, or Eddie, as Ashton called it, standing outside the apartment. I walk towards him, lost.

“Hi, I'm Edward. I was responsible for Marnie this month.” he holds out his hand, which I shake politely.

“Luke.” I introduce myself.

Edward invites me into the apartment. A shiver runs when her scent hugs me. I take a quick look at the decor, not finding my girlfriend's taste there. But that's not what I came to do.

"Where is she?" I turn to the boy.

“She left.” he sets a glass of water in front of me. “I know what happened. And I know why you're here. I also know you're going after her, but I just want to say something. Marnie is really hurt. For everything. She left, looking for help. She said something about a Dr. Prescott.”

“It's her psychologist.” I stop him, even with the lump in my throat.

“I know she loves you and I know you do too. So the only thing I ask, Luke, is that you take care of her like never before. She is a very special friend and I would hate to see her get any worse.”

The fact that she's running to Dr. Prescott again makes my stomach churn in fear. She helped Marnie through the worst time in her life and it breaks me to think she's living another one.

“Where did she go?” I sniffle, trying to control myself, to think clearly.

“She went home.” he raises his eyebrows. "Just got on a jet to Los Angeles."

I nod, not being able to speak. I thank Eddie, walking away, not wanting a stranger to see me cry. I think of the weight Marnie has borne all this time alone and fear that I have lost her forever.

Marnie pov.

I get out of the shower, sitting up in bed, thinking. After I left the hotel and got home, I told Eddie everything, and he stared at me in amazement. Even he, who had never met Luke, didn't expect that he would believe me.

After telling it all, I sank down on the couch in silence, trying to organize my thoughts and not drown in the darkness that surrounded me. Sophie stood next to me, not leaving me alone for a second, while Eddie went out to make some calls. I know that he was warning Leah, for the simple fact that she had been calling me non-stop.

The clock was ticking close to 7 pm when I started to insist to Sophie that I was fine and that she could meet Michael at the show. That's when the doorbell rang. From the couch I watched Eddie go to the door and come back lost.

“What's wrong?” I question.

“It's John!” he says with his jaw clenched.

“What?” I jump off the couch, walking to the door on tiptoe.

John was standing on the other side, looking not good at all. I take steps backwards, feeling the air shortage in me. Oh, shit. Shit. Shit. Luke had messed up. I knew it. I knew it.

“Sophie, come up. Please.” I order, trying to organize my head.

“No! I'm not leaving you with this guy.” she approaches.

“If he sees you here, you'll become his next target. If you're not already. Climb up and be quiet. Please.” I beg this time. I turn to Eddie.

“You can kneel, whatever, I'm not leaving you with this guy.” Eddie says, not even giving me a chance to speak.

“I wasn't going to ask that. Please don't leave my side.”

Fear. Total dread of what might happen when I answer the door. I don't know what he knows or doesn't know, or what he might do, but I don't want to find out. With Eddie standing a little behind me, I open the door facing John.

“What a pleasure to see you home, Miss McGonagall. I think we missed each other at the hotel. Since you arrived just as I left. What a coincidence, don't you think?” he lets out a harsh laugh.

“I don't know what-”

“Spare me your lame excuse. A little bird told me that you were there and that you talked to the boys.”

My body freezes at this moment. I didn't see anyone but the boys. Just some security guards. Fuck.

“Do you really think I wasn't preparing for you to show up?! I knew you wouldn't obey our agreement.”

“What are you going to do now? They already know about you.”

“But they didn't believe you.” I close my face. “That's the difference between you and me, Marnie, I know how to manipulate them. You don't. But I admire you for trying. I didn't think you'd have the courage to show up anyway. For you to see how I'm not the monster you think I am, I'll reconsider this slip. But if it happens again, I'll finish you off.”

I don't blink, staring at John with my eyes. I press my hand against the wood, wanting to actually punch him, but I wouldn't stand a chance. Letterman runs his eyes over Eddie, waving his fingers before he goes.

I slam the door angrily. I walk over to the couch feeling my legs weak. My head is heavy and my heart aches. Sophie comes slowly down the stairs.

“Sophie, you'd better go. If he gets there and doesn't see you, he might get suspicious.” I make it up, wanting to be alone.

“ I'll call a car for you.” my friend offers.

I don't wait another second, going up to my room and locking myself in. As soon as I hear the door slam, signaling that someone has left, I get up for a shower. With the deluded hope that the water would help me, that it would wash away my problems, but no.

Still sitting on the bed, I notice that the bath has not helped me at all. The help I need isn't here, and if I don't go after it now, I'll sink deeper and I'm afraid that later it will be too late.

I change and leave the room with my decision. I find Eddie sitting in the middle of the stairs, perhaps waiting for me. I sit down beside him, holding his arm and laying my head on his shoulder.

“I need to go away. I need my house. My family. My girls.” I begin, already feeling my voice cracking. “I can't take this anymore and I'm afraid of what might happen to me. I am so exhausted from falling, I don't think I have the strength to try anymore. I'm not well. I need help.”

The crying becomes overwhelming. Edward says nothing, just hugging me. I don't know how long we lay there, but he was in no hurry until my crying ceased, or in this case, subsided.

“When do you want to leave?” he asks.

“As soon as possible.” I answer softly.

“Pack your bags, I'll see what I can do.” he gets up and pulls out his phone.

“Eddie.” I hold him, pulling him into a hug. “I can't thank you enough for everything and for not giving up on me.” I squeeze him.

“Be well and take care. That's how you'll thank me.” he leaves a kiss on my cheek, before continuing to try a flight for me.

[...]

Everything was set up in less than 40 minutes. All it took was a few phone calls and the use of my name and I was on a jet to LA.

My mother and Leah had already been notified and were waiting for me at the airport. Because of the mess I had caused before leaving my apartment in LA, I would stay with Leah until my mother finished her makeover and then try to get back to my life.

I watch the city disappear into the clouds and lean back in my chair, trying to rid my mind of the millions of thoughts that surround me. I don't want to give up on Luke. I don't want to believe that those two years were just crazy thoughts in my head. But right now I know I need to take care of myself before I commit to anyone again.

I also need to let him think about everything I have confessed, because this affects not only our private lives, but also his professional one. After two hours of flight, I end up sleeping, only waking up when it's time to land in LA.

My heart seems to want to burst out of my mouth from so much anxiety. I grab my bag, quickly getting off the plane. I visualize my mother and Leah standing arm in arm, waiting for me. I run to them, feeling relieved to return to my safe haven, seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.

I was supposed to post it earlier, but I got a new cell phone after 6 years and got too excited and forgot to update it.

Please, don't be mad at me, I promise that soon everything will be fine between Luke and Marnie.