#me; grabbing my useless sleep aids and crawling back into bed: chapters up

[raddishwrites]

Chapter fifteen

Is here

Finally

[topazy]

Silent bloom

Parings: Finn Collins/reader Bellamy Blake/reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood

Chapter: 1.13

Distance was all that mattered. You run through the forest, leaves and branches reaching out to grab you, tearing at your skin and clothes. You weren’t stopping for anything, and sure as hell weren’t going to stop to look behind.

Seeing the night sky was the only assurance that you were still alive, but despite that, there was no help for the sick feeling inside your stomach. The mud and grit had become enmeshed with raw pink flesh and was spotted with blood. You had no idea where you were heading.

Looking over the gates at camp, you spotted some white flowers growing. They were beautiful and pure. You had picked a few and decided to place them on Wells' grave. You weren’t overly close to him when he was alive, but you still felt guilty for not being able to save him that night. If you had gone looking for him sooner, or screamed for help, he might have had a chance to survive. Taking care of his grave was your way of apologising. Octavia had offered to go with you, but you insisted on being alone.

As you made your way back towards the gates of camp, a rustling noise from behind caught your attention. You turned to see two men in hazmat suits crouching close by. They were watching your campmates through binoculars. Gulping down, you slowly started to back away, hoping they wouldn’t notice. But they did.

You tumbled over a branch that caused you to land on the ground with a thump and before you had the chance to move again, men in hazmat suits grabbed you. Your kicks and screams did nothing to aid your escape. You weren’t strong enough to fight them off. The feeling of something sharp pricking at your neck made you scream out for help weakly as the dizziness caused your vision to start blurring.

Suddenly, the man let go and he fell to the ground. The second body quickly hit the ground after. You tried to crawl away from them, not being strong enough to stand, but you didn’t make it far. An older looking woman walked forward and glanced down at you. Her face was covered in black kohl, and she was wearing tribal clothes that were decorated with fresh blood. She was a grounder, and she wasn’t alone.

—

"It’s not safe out here."

You turn around to see Bellamy standing behind you, with an unamused expression on his face. Not that you judged him. He had almost died twice in the last few hours.

"It’s not safe anywhere," you pointed out.

Clarke and Finn returned with grounders not far behind. Monty was still missing. Murphy had terrorised the camp, and now Raven was possibly dying, and Connor was dead.

"Your shift is over. You should get some rest." With a sigh, you accepted Bellamy’s hand, as he helped you down from the ledge you were standing on. You couldn’t help but stare. Even in the night, you could see the bruises around Bellamy’s neck. Without thinking, you reached out and ran your fingers across the dark mark. He flinched only for a moment before leaning into your touch. His gaze fell from your face down to your bandaged thigh, "Does it hurt?"

"No... Well yeah, but it’s getting better." You stepped back from him, "How is your neck?"

"Never better." You snorted at the bluntness of his answer. Something else was playing on his mind. Bellamy tensed again before he spoke. "Octavia told me about you and Finn arguing, a-"

"It won’t happen again. We have bigger issues to focus on."

"I was going to ask if you were okay." You didn’t know what to say. It had never occurred to you that Bellamy would have cared, especially when grounders could attack at any moment. "O never went into detail, but she said it got nasty."

"I would never have taken Bellamy Blake for a gossip," you teased.

Bellamy smirked at your comment, "you're one of the best gunners we’ve got Daisy, but you are useless if you're distracted. I don’t want you to miss a kill shot because of a distraction."

He was right, the argument was a distraction. You only cared deeply about a few people, and in the blink of an eye, you had lost Monty and Finn. You let out a deep sigh, "there’s nothing to tell... how far away do you think the grounders are?"

Bellamy clenched his jaw. You assumed he wasn’t happy that you were avoiding the question, but this wasn’t the time to open those wounds. "They won’t be far," he must have sensed you were unconvinced because he probed you some more. "You’ve been staring outside these gates for hours without flinching. What’s going on?"

"I just... I don’t get it. They only followed Clarke and Finn so far, then they stopped. I’m just trying to figure out why."

"To get reinforcements."

"Maybe," you paused before continuing. "From what we know, grounders don’t give up without a fight. They aren’t afraid of dying. Hell, the bomb at the bridge didn’t stop them. I think something else made them turn back."

"I really hope you're wrong."

—

You opened your eyes to the noise of yelling around you. It had all just been a bad dream. Groaning, you tried to sit up and realised you couldn’t. You had been chained to the bed.

"I’m glad kom see yu laik awake skai raunon."

You turn your head and see the grounder from the forest standing by the doorway. "I... I’m sorry, I don’t understand."

A younger looking girl stepped forward, and translated. "She’s glad to see you are awake."

For what reason would a grounder want you awake? You suddenly noticed the chains attached to your wrists. The memory of Murphy telling you what the grounders did to him played on your mind. You instantly curled your fingers into the palm of your hands.

"Why?" You were embarrassed by the weakness in your own voice.

"We saved you."

You looked between the young girl and the older woman who hadn’t taken her eyes off you. It was true they were probably still alive, "thank you."

"Mochof," the older grounder said before placing a bucket of water down next to you. "Mochof is thank you in our language. My name is Zelda, and this is Ada."

"I’m Daisy." You eyed Zelda suspiciously as she poured a powder into the water before offering the bucket to you. "What did you just put in it?"

"It has healing properties. It will pull any poison from your wounds out."

"Why would you waste your medicine on me?"

Ada took the bucket from Zelda and placed it in front of you, "because we want peace."

You accepted the ragged looking clothes from the young girl and began washing your neck, before moving to your ankles. There was no point in refusing, you had no weapon and physically wouldn’t be able to fight them off with restricted movement. The stinging sensation in your wounds was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. Soon after, an overwhelming heaviness takes over you.

—

You opened your eyes again to find you were still in the same hut as before, except now it was only lit by a small flame that was next to the chair Ada was sleeping in. You wonder how long you’ve been asleep. The night's cool air made goosebumps appear on your skin, which caused you to notice your lack of clothes. Your trousers were gone.

"I cut them off to change your wound."

Her voice took you by surprise, as you hadn’t realized she was awake. You looked at Ada and noticed she now had war paint on her face that matched Zelda’s. "Who was screaming earlier?"

"They were just reapers."

You tried to rack your brain for any clues about them, but your mind went blank. "What are reapers?"

"Men who are no longer men." Ada stood up and walked towards the ‘bed’ you were still chained to, "You have an interesting collection of scars, Daisy."

You scoffed at the comment, "so I’ve heard."

"Did you get them in battle?"

As Ada moved in the dimly lit room, you noticed the three large scars on her left shoulder. They looked deep and raw. "No, most of them were caused by accidents. How did you get yours?"

"A wild animal," she paused for a minute before continuing. "I have water and food to share if you’d like some."

It amazed you the way you had been treated by the two grounders, considering the stories you had heard. Her offer reminded you of the night you had your wristband removed so you could give Charlotte more food. The memory caused a lump to form in the back of your throat. "Only if you have enough to share."

—

After eating in silence, Ada offered to look at the rest of your wounds to make sure they weren’t infected. You couldn’t decide if she was genuinely kind or trying to lure you into a false sense of security, regardless you accepted her offer.

As Ada cleaned a couple of scratches on the back of your neck, you cleared your throat. "So... what are you and Zelda planning on doing with me? I’m guessing I won’t be free to walk any time I want."

It surprised you when Ada let out a small laugh, "That is the plan."

"Now I’m really confused. You kidnapped me to clean me up, feed me, then let me leave?"

"We saved, not kidnapped," you helped your chained wrists up. "We aren’t stupid. You could have woken up and tried to kill us."

"Good point, but I still don’t understand why. Our people are at war."

Ada sighed before rummaging around in a different part of the room. "We have a common enemy, the mountain men."

"The men in hazmat suits?" She nodded, and it started to make sense. "What are they doing?"

"For a long time, people have been going missing. Many of us believe if we work together we can stop them."

Her comment surprised you, "Does your commander think so?"

"Not yet, but if your people understand we aren’t savages, then maybe they will be willing to fight with us."

You couldn't help but laugh, not because the situation was funny, but because two grounders had saved you from mountain men, then chained you to a bed, but still showed you nothing but kindness. And now they want to use you to help end a war. "How many of your people think this?"

"Enough of them. Do you think your people would do the same?"

You knew Octavia would be accepting of grounders wanting peace. Finn and Clarke would be the same. The problem would be convincing the rest of the delinquents, but you were sure Bellamy would convince them once you explained. God, you hoped you got the chance to see them all again. You let out a deep sigh. The last thing you wanted to do was lie. "I hope they will. They might not listen to me, but I know somebody they would blindly follow."

"I’m going to find Zelda. I brought you this in case you get a cold."

"Thank you," you called after her before throwing the blanket over your legs.

After she left, you laid back down as questions kept swirling around in your head, but you’d have time to ask them in the morning. The last thought you had before falling back asleep was if Monty had been taken by grounders, or mountain men.

—

The door to the hut suddenly burst open and a blood-soaked Ada entered. It had been at least a couple of days since you last saw her. Luckily, she had left enough food and water for you, as well as loosening your chains slightly.

"What happened?" Ada said nothing but unchained you before throwing clothes down beside you, "Are you hurt?"

"Hurry and put them on."

As you pulled your new trousers on, you froze when a gunshot went off in the distance. You turned to face Ada, who was staring emotionless outside the open door. You leaned closer to her and whispered, "What’s going on?"

"Skaikru didn’t want peace. I can’t help you anymore."

"Wait?" You said it a little too loudly as Ada made her way to the door, causing her to turn and frown. "You need to tell me what happened. I can still talk to-"

"It’s too late," she snarled. "Zelda is dead. The war has already begun. Jus drein jus daun, blood must have blood."

You stared at her not knowing what to say. You finished getting dressed in an awkward silence as Ada kept guard. The last few days had felt like a dream you couldn’t wake up from. At any moment, you’d wake up in camp and the dream would become nothing but a distant memory.

"You will need this," Ada handed you a blade. "Be careful, the poison the mouton men gave you can last for days. Mebi oso na hit choda op nodotaim Daisy kom Skaikru."

"I hope we meet again."

—

Days of not walking properly had taken their toll on your body as you kept stumbling while walking up the steep hill. You ducked down low when you heard voices getting closer. Crawling closer to get a better look, you froze when multiple gunshots fired close by.

You stayed in the same spot until you heard the familiar voice of Clarke. You slowly struggled to your feet and began walking to the top. The thought of yelling did occur to you, but you were dressed like a grounder, and would be alerting god knows who to your location. The pain radiating through your body made you want to give up, but you needed to push forward. You needed to know if your friends were safe. Finally, a head of blonde hair came into view, along with thick dark hair. A wave of relief washed over you knowing that Bellamy was safe.

You thought it was strange that neither of them were moving forward as you stumbled towards them. Clarke placed a hand over her mouth and spun to face the other way, the same time you fell to your knees. "Daisy!"

She rushed over towards you, while Bellamy stood stunned for a moment. He quickly snapped out of it. Clarke moved to the side as Bellamy knelt down in front of you. He brushed strands of hair out of your face, "I thought you were dead."

"Ditto," the expression on Bellamy’s face worried you. "So what have I missed Blake?"

Bellamy held the same worried expression as you got back to your feet and walked towards where he stood a moment ago. Nothing could have ever prepared you to see a pile of dead bodies. The sight made you feel sick. Finn and Murphy came into view. Both of them noticed you at the same time. Murphy shook his head as Finn stepped towards you with an almost insane look on his face.

You stumbled backwards and a pair of hands caught you before you fell. Bellamy held onto you tightly as you backed away from the scene in front of you.

Finn suddenly appeared directly in front of you, saying, "I found you.”

Season one

[tamlinsbedroom]

Chapter 16: Run Away

WARNING: Rape in this chapter a little after the time skip towards the end.

That night, I told Tamlin and Rhys that I’d be in the library reading. That I needed to distract my mind from everything that’s been going on. They seemed to understand, as my drastic change from being a human to this would overwhelm anyone.

While they were talking with Lucien, I planned my escape. I knew that they had spies all around the courts, waiting for the valuable subjects of the high lords to no doubt surrender themselves for the greater good.

I snuck out from the library, through the window that led to the balcony. There was an ivy bush below, and it would—I hoped it would, cushion my 10 foot fall.

I had to be quiet, as I knew faery ears would hear if I made too much of a sound. And so, I swung my leg over the marble balcony, and right down I plummeted into the ivy. It didn’t cushion me as much as I thought it would, I learned. Especially because there was a rock in the tangle of leaves that scraped up my foot. It hurt, but my adrenaline was high. I ignored the throbbing as I began running.

I ran straight into the wood, the thickest part that once I breached would hide me from even faery eyes. Prythian was a scary place to be in at night, Rhys and Tamlin had told me before. I attested to that, as I felt eyes on me. Not eyes of prey, but of predator. I tried to ignore the yellow eyes I saw reflecting back at me in the moonlight as I swiftly kept up my pace.

I heard a branch snap, darting my eyes to the sound. It was a beast, a wolf to be exact. It’s glowing eyes had nothing but malice in them as it paused. I tried to back away slowly, but tripped on a tangle of weeds. The wolf transformed, turning into a man. No, a faery male. He had jet black hair that was cut to his shoulders, and yellow eyes just like the wolf.

“What is the high lord of the night and spring courts little thing doing in these big bad woods?” He smiled like a cat, his white teeth gleaming.

“I-I had to…” I stammered, confused as to if this male was part of the rogue soldier of Hybern’s malevolent plan.

“Ah, of course you did. How noble.” He lunged toward me, grabbing my wrist as he winnowed us to a place I’d never been. I could have sworn I heard a beast roar, and the high lord of the night court scream for me.

I was thrown on a dirt floor, the male that had taken me now gone. When I looked up, several sets of eyes were on me. All were males, most high and few lesser fae from the looks. They cleared a path as black leather boots, shined and polished, came up to me.

“You must be Alanna.” I looked at the male, but not at his eyes. I didn’t have to in order to know who it was. It was that same rogue soldier that crashed through Tamlin’s window, threatening us all before. He got down on a knee, gripping my chin harshly, forcing me to meet his eyes.

“Did your high lords not teach you to look others in the eyes when you’re being spoken to?” He gripped tighter. “Answer me, my little whore.” I shook in fear at his words. At that word.

“Please. Please don’t hurt me. You said you wouldn’t if—“ He slapped me across the face with a bruising intensity. I yelped, my hand going up to soothe the sting.

“I do what I want. Trust me.” He stood. “Had I had to go get you myself, your fate would be far more unpleasant than what it’s going to be now.” I didn’t want to know what he meant. I didn’t want to know what plans he had for me.

He gripped me by the collar of my dress, dragging me through the dirt. My hurt leg stung as the dirt got in it. The other faery males laughed and joked as I was drug along.

“Quiet! You’re scaring the poor girl.” The rogue soldier joked, throwing his head back and roaring with laughter. He sat down on a large, metal throne, leaving me at his feet. He looked down at me with a smirk. I’d be lying if I said he wasn’t an attractive male, with his sharp jaw and lean yet toned muscles.

“Get on all fours.” He instructed, with a sharp edge behind his words. I halted, staring back at him with tears in my eyes. What was he going to do? I panicked.

“Don’t make me have to repeat myself.” He warned, motioning for me to do what he asked. Reluctantly, I got on my four shaky limbs. I awaited something awful, but what he did was nothing short of humiliating. He put his feet on top of me. As if I were a useless ottoman. Tears fell down onto the dirt as the laughter from the men faded into nothing. This is what I did. This is what I had to do. I just hoped that my suffering wouldn’t last long, and somehow I’d luck out.

My mates faces flashes in my mind. They were undoubtedly worried out of their minds, trying to conceive a plan to get me out of the mess that I willingly put myself in.

The males legs were heavy. My back and limbs ached, struggling to stay up.

“Having a hard time, pet?” I heard him ask from above me.

“P-please. I can’t…” I mumbled, my voice shaky and tired. To my relief, his legs were off of me, but I was instead yanked up on my feet. He held my hair roughly in his grasp.

“Strip.” He commanded. My eyes widened. Strip?! In front of all of these males that—I couldn’t. I couldn’t possibly—

Before I could think anymore, a blade tore my dress right down the middle, from collar to hem. It fell off of me, exposing my thin, lacy white undergarments. Naturally, I covered my breasts, my cheeks burning red with shame.

“Dance.” He instructed, but not before turning me around and slapping my backside with such force it made me stumble forwards.

“B-but there’s no music.” I tried to reason.

“Did I say dance to music?” He met my gaze. That was lust in his eyes. Pure, malevolent, cruel lust. He looked at me as if to say ‘I dare you to refuse.’

And so, I began swaying my hips, twirling as tears ran down my cheeks. My sobs became my music, and the males around me made disgusting comments, watching my every move.

“I’ll fuck her soon enough.”

“We should gang her and then bash her head in.”

The slurs of speech made me zone out into a world of hate, and I was made to dance until I collapsed.

The last thing I remember was being carried and dumped into a cell, laid atop a straw bed.

❥❥❥

I didn’t know how long I slept, but I didn’t dream. It was an utter blackout, my body needed it.

I was waken up by someone splashing my face with cold water. I wiped it from my face with my dirty hands and looked at the individual who’d done that with a dangerous glare.

I quickly softened my look when I saw that it was the rogue soldier. What the hell was his name? I hated referring to people with things other than their name.

“Rise and shine, my pet.” He tossed the end of what looked to be old soda bread into my cell, landing on the dirt floor. “Eat up, or you’ll regret it later.” He walked off, that cocky smirk still plastered on his stupidly attractive face.

I ripped the bread, chewing it up and swallowing it as fast as I could, trying to ignore the old taste and texture. No water, except what had been dumped on me. How thoughtful.

I laid in my cell, thinking about my mates. Thinking about them fucking me, then treating me like a queen bathing me and coddling me to sleep. I missed them…and it had only been less than a whole day. My ramblings came to a halt as the rogue soldier was back in front of my cell, unlocking it.

He strode in, his tall stature aiding him. He picked me up, throwing me over his shoulder as he walked off with me to gods knows where. I held on to his back tightly, in fear that he would throw me down harshly.

And he did throw me. Except, not onto the floor, but onto a bed. I knew from the looks of the chambers that they were his. Weapons scattered the tents walls, the bedding not as lavish as a high lords, but still quality. I scrambled, hugging me knees to my chest. I was, after all, still nude from when he’d torn my dress in half.

“This is the part where you learn how to be my pet for the rest of your miserable life.” He grabbed my throat tightly, squeezing it as he lowered me down.

To my horror, he crawled in between my legs and began unbuttoning his trousers, his hard member springing out. No-no this could not be happening…this couldn’t—

Without warning, he plunged himself inside of me, no arousal to lube him. The pain was unbearable, like I was being torn in half, the friction burning my walls.

“Stop! Stop! Please—“ He put his fingers in my mouth, down my throat, silencing me of coherent words.

He proceeded to rape me for what felt like hours, as I laid in misery. At least when I ran from my village and those other men had used me, I was knocked out from hitting my head. This…this was horrifying. And I was awake for all of it.

I didn’t know why Tamlin or Rhys couldn’t reach me down our mating bond, but they couldn’t. It was as if a powerful spell had been placed on me, preventing it. So, I prayed. Prayed to the old gods, to the cauldron and mother like the fae, to anyone who would listen.

[fangirlwriting-stories]

Misery

Summary: Virgil starts seeing a lot of a dark side he hadn't before, and this particular side makes things seem worse than they really are.  Yeah, making things seem worse.  Because things aren't really as bad as he says... are they?

Trigger Warnings: Torture, Violence, Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Mind Control, please let me know if you’d like something to be added.

A/N: Huge thanks to @colorcollector for letting me use their lovely headcanon as the last part of this chapter!

Chapter One:

Virgil couldn’t necessarily say he loved life as a dark side, but there were things that made it bearable.  Well, there were two things that made it bearable.

“Dogpile!” Remus cried, throwing himself on top of an unsuspecting Janus.  Virgil smiled at the wheeze Janus let out even as Remus was already making himself comfortable.  Virgil decided against throwing himself on top of someone else and potentially landing on any of his wounds from yesterday, and instead just laid down on the couch next to Janus, tucking himself into his waiting arms, and then getting sprawled on top of by Remus a second later.

“You do understand I can’t play the movie like this,” Janus said, shifting his head as much as he was currently capable of doing towards the remote that was now crushed against the back of the couch.

“All part of my diabolical plan,” Remus said with a grin, snatching the remote from Janus.  “We’re watching The Human Centipede if I say we’re watching The Human Centipede!”

Janus looked at Virgil with obvious betrayal.  “You participated in this?”

“We’re not watching The Human Centipede,” Virgil said with a laugh, taking the remote from Remus, who pouted at him.

“Virgin, don’t you love me?”

“I don’t love anyone that much.”

Remus made an offended noise that it was Janus’ turn to laugh at, and Virgil put on Coraline instead, which Remus started grumbling about barely counting as a horror movie.  He still laid down on top of Virgil to watch it, though, so he couldn’t mind that much.

Janus had set out tubs of popcorn on the table in front of them, which Virgil and Remus now ate in front of him while laying on his arms so he couldn’t get to any.  Would they move after half an hour or so?  Probably.  Were they going to keep up the idea that they wouldn’t move until they finally did?  Absolutely.

Virgil spent most of the night curled against the two people that made life not suck sometimes, and relished in the feeling of people who loved him holding him close.  It wasn’t often that they did things like this.  They had bonding activities that were more obviously Remus and Janus’ speed all the time, such as plotting evil schemes and blowing up cities in the Imagination, but Virgil honestly enjoyed a lot of that enough that times like this didn’t feel as necessary.  But that didn’t mean he didn’t relish them when they came around.

…Unfortunately, they all usually ended the same way, and tonight was no exception.  He stepped back into his room a couple hours later to find Cruelty standing right inside the door, and as soon as Virgil froze, realizing his presence, Cruelty spun Virgil around, slammed him against the wall, and drove a knife through his shoulder.

There were times Virgil wished rooms weren’t soundproof from the outside.  Remus would have come running with thirty different kinds of weapons if he heard Virgil’s scream.

He still managed to cut himself off pretty quickly.  The scream was more due to shock and surprise than anything else.  It was far safer for him to keep his mouth shut and try to be uninteresting.  Cruelty, at least, would get bored if he didn’t make pretty little noises.

“Could you explain something to me, Anxiety?” he asked, keeping his voice low and cold.  “Why exactly are you the one Thomas decided to put in his little video series?”

Ah, yes.  The others hadn’t been thrilled about Virgil getting invited back.  Virgil focused on the celebration he’d had in the Imagination with Janus and Remus and took a breath as he answered.  “Thomas has known about me for years,” he said, voice steady.  “If you ever convince Deceit you’re not a totally useless dickwad, maybe he’ll introduce you too.”

Virgil couldn’t hold back the scream when the knife was ripped from his left shoulder and stabbed again through his right one.

“You’re a little pest, you know that?” Cruelty spat.  “That’s the only reason Thomas wants you around.  You’re a pest that’s easy to get rid of.  An easy villain to defeat so he can get an ego boost.”

Virgil was going to pretend that comment didn’t sting as much as it did.  “Does that mean Thomas doesn’t want you around because you would never shut up?”

The knife was transferred to his arm.  Virgil managed not to scream this time, and Cruelty seemed to take notice.

“Ugh, you’re no fun anymore,” he said.  “Why do I even bother with you?”

I’ve been asking myself that question for years now, Virgil thought, though he didn’t say it out loud because he wasn’t a total idiot.

Cruelty pulled the knife out of his arm and twirled it around as he walked towards Virgil’s bathroom to clean the blood off of it.  Virgil didn’t move until the noises stopped, meaning Cruelty had most likely sunk out.

He started checking the knife wounds as he made his way over to the bathroom, but as he opened the door he was met with a deep cold that could only mean one side.

“Oh, Anxiety, are you okay?” Misery asked.  Virgil looked up in surprise to find him standing over the counter.

“Misery?  What are you doing here?”

“Shhh, don’t worry about it,” Misery said.  He reached under the counter and pulled out Virgil’s first-aid kit, then walked over and took Virgil gently by the arm.

The fight drained out of him so fast that if he could do much other than be dragged over to the toilet, it probably would have been falling over.

“What—” Virgil tried.

“Oh, Anxiety, you don’t look so good,” Misery said softly.  “I’m just trying to help you is all.”

Well that definitely wasn’t the case, but as was a side effect of Misery, he didn’t really have enough energy anymore to protest.

A second later, Misery did in fact start peeling his hoodie and shirt off in order to wrap the wounds on his shoulder.

He’d finished his first shoulder wound when he started whispering.  “You know you don’t deserve to be the one that Thomas knows, right?”

Virgil didn’t really have it in him to say anything.

“You don’t deserve to be known by him.  You don’t deserve anything other than to be trapped down here forever with us.”

Virgil managed enough of a protest to lean weakly away.

“Oh, shh, it’s okay,” Misery whispered, pulling Virgil back over and starting on his other shoulder wound.  “Don’t worry, we’re going to give you exactly what you deserve.”

The only reason Virgil didn’t have to try and hold back his whimper of fear was because at this point, it would have taken far more effort to make it heard in the first place.

Misery continued to talk about Virgil not deserving to see Thomas until he finished bandaging all of the wounds Cruelty had given him, then gave Virgil a sweet smile and a pat on the cheek before he left.

The cold and, well, misery that had invaded the room left with him and Virgil pulled in a shaky gasp.  It took him a good ten minutes to muster up the energy to move, but when he did, he grabbed onto his counter and slowly made his way back into his room and over to his bed, which he crawled into without even bothering to put a shirt back on.

He didn’t want to get up for a week.

Virgil put enough of the pieces together waking up the next day after Misery’s visit, when he woke up feeling significantly less exhausted.  Misery was probably a pissed off reaction by either himself or the others to the fact that he got to talk to Thomas now.  Well that definitely wasn’t… pleasant.

He rubbed his eyes and looked over at his clock to find it was already past 11:00.  Ugh.  That was Misery for you.  And the fact that he’d been up watching movies probably didn’t help either.  He sat up in bed and stretched, pulled a shirt on, and headed into the bathroom to see if his clothes were still there, because he’d have to wash the blood out of them if they were.  But Misery must have taken them when he left, which was a small mercy he supposed.  He’d probably have to be careful going into the kitchen for food, because at this point there would be sides in there ready for lunch.

Virgil cracked his door open and peeked into the hallway, then relaxed and pulled the door open when he spotted Remus splayed out on the couch.

“Morning, Re,” he said, shutting the door after him as he walked out.

Remus glanced up.  “Not for much longer.  You sleep too long, Emo.  You miss out on the fun.  I dueled Janny for a breakfast bar.”

“You dueled him?”

“Yeah!  He used his shepherds crook and I used my di—”

“Let me eat breakfast first, asshole.”

“Oh, well I suppose I could have used that too—”

“Remus,” Virgil groaned, starting for the kitchen as Remus cackled behind him.

Virgil managed to at least eat a bagel and have a glass of milk before he was interrupted again.  Not by Cruelty, he probably wouldn’t bother Virgil again until he got bored, but unlike him, Pride, who was waiting by the counter, had no such easy way out as stopping when Virgil got boring.  At least he couldn’t do as much with Remus in the other room.  Virgil would stay out here and take the pressing on his new wounds with silent winces rather than go back behind closed doors and have to suffer through who knows what.  Pride could be worse than Cruelty in a lot of ways.

“Cruelty said he had fun last night,” Pride hissed in Virgil’s ear after he’d gone a while without doing anything.

Virgil held his phone slightly tighter from where he was looking down at it and nodded.  “Yes,” he replied quietly.  Give Pride what he wants, or he never stops.

“You really are getting more than you deserve, you know,” Pride said lightly, though he still didn’t raise his voice above a whisper.  “It’s not like Thomas is ever going to love you.  Not him, not the core sides.”

Virgil didn’t say anything, not really sure what Pride wanted this time.

That ended up being a mistake, as Pride leaned forward, grabbed his left shoulder, and dug his nails into it.  Virgil didn’t bother trying to hold back his whimper.  It would do more to placate him.

“I swear to Thomas if you—” he hissed.

“Hey, Anxiety!” called Remus from the other room.

Pride’s hand vanished from his shoulder.

“Yeah?” Virgil called, doing his best to keep his voice steady.

“Come here!”

Virgil looked back over at Pride, who was already scowling.  “We’re finishing this later,” he hissed.

Virgil nodded.  “Yeah, I know,” he whispered.

That didn’t seem to make Pride any less pissed, if his yanking Virgil up from the table and shoving him towards the living room was any indication.  Virgil caught himself on the wall and took a shaky breath, pulling himself together and then heading into the living room to see what Remus wanted.

…

Pride torture sessions went by faster if Virgil did the opposite of what he did with Cruelty.  Scream when it hurt, lots of begging and pleading, stroke his ego.  It always kind of made Virgil feel like a weakling, but it was better than having worse injuries the next day.  He was pretty sure Janus would be proud of him for using his self preservation skills.

He made it through an hour or so of laughing and punches before Pride seemed to have had his fill, and picked Virgil up by the shoulders to drag him to the bathroom.  Virgil didn’t bother to try and hide any whimpers that escaped, it would just make it more likely for him to leave.

Virgil assumed he was just going to deposit him onto the toilet or something and walk out while still laughing, but the second they made it into the bathroom a familiar cold seeped into Virgil’s bones and he was dropped straight into Misery’s arms.

“Have fun,” Pride said, sounding cocky and very pleased with himself.  “You make me too depressed, I’m not sticking around for this.”

Virgil was too sore and now exhausted to try and resist as Misery finished carrying him over to the toilet and set him down.

He probably should have expected he would be here.  That was probably going to continue.

“Anxiety,” Misery said, sounding for all the life of him like a parent reprimanding their child.  “Did you honestly think you could get away from Pride by getting the creative side involved?”

Virgil didn’t have any ideas or energy to give as a response, but apparently Misery expected one, because he lifted Virgil’s face gently by the chin until he could meet his eyes.

“Anxiety, you know that’s not fair, right?”

“I wasn’t… trying to get anyone involved,” Virgil managed.  “He called me… all on his own.”

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s not very nice to lie to people,” Misery said, shaking his head in disapproval.  “I would have thought you’d know that, with how often Deceit lies to you.”

Virgil was going to at least attempt to protest that the kinds of lies Janus told were often intentionally sarcastic and obvious, especially when he knew how that could calm Virgil down.  But he’d barely opened his mouth when Misery started making shushing noises, and he dropped his head to his chest as Misery started opening the first aid kit again.

“You shouldn’t try to run to Deceit and the Duke for help,” Misery said.  “It’s not like you can always count on them anyway.  Just let whoever needs you finish whatever they want to do, okay?  That will be easier in the long run anyway.”

Virgil would have asked what in the world was meant by not being able to count on Janus and Remus if he had any will left to do anything other than just nod.  Misery didn’t talk much until he finished with the bandages, and then, more small mercies, he carried Virgil back into his room and tucked him back into bed before leaving.  Virgil probably would have fallen asleep in the bathroom if he hadn’t done that, if the way his eyes were already drooping was any indication, and the way that he was already falling asleep as he heard Misery close the door after him.

…

In the many things that Virgil had learned about Logan since joining the core sides, one of them was that Logan didn’t like to leave arguments unfinished.  He’d seen Roman try to go back to what he was doing before only for Logan to continue getting louder and firmer until Roman finally returned to the argument and either won or lost.  It would have freaked Virgil out much more if the arguments didn’t usually end with laughter, or Patton getting in between them and mediating the damage, or both.

He hadn’t been the person Logan was arguing with since their debate video, and Virgil didn’t think he’d really been trying enough then for it to really count as one.  That was probably the reason he hadn’t expected this morning to go the way it had ended up going, but here they were.

“Virgil, you’re being unreasonable,” Logan said, sounding more than a little done with their conversation.  “Creamer just makes coffee taste better, is all.”

“Yeah, except if you add an entire carton of it, it ceases to be coffee,” Virgil said, crossing his arms.  “Coffee is meant to be black like my soul.”

“There has never been any sort of evidence that humans have souls, and even if they did, why would they be any particular color—”

“Okay, woah, slow down, kiddos,” Patton said gently, stepping forward and putting a hand on Logan’s shoulder, along with holding his opposite hand out to Virgil.  “You both sound like you’re getting a little worked up.  Maybe we should take a break and cool down a little bit?”

Logan huffed and drew himself upwards, not looking the least bit satisfied.  “Fine.”  He turned to head out of the kitchen, and Virgil smirked a little after him, because he had clearly won that argument, before Logan turned and leveled a serious look back at him.  “We are finishing this later,” he said, sounding almost angry, and Virgil stopped smirking.

Had— had Logan been taking the argument that seriously?  They were just talking about coffee creamer.

Virgil set his coffee cup before he dropped it, then shoved his now-shaking hands into his pockets.  He stood abruptly from the table, causing Patton to look over at him from where he was still making eggs by the stove, and sprinted from the room before Patton could say anything, though he didn’t miss the concerned call after him.

Virgil made it to his room, slamming the door behind him, and leaned back against it.

Things were supposed to be different here.  Things had been different, better here, until now.  But Virgil hadn’t realized how seriously Logan was taking the argument, and now Logan was mad, and Virgil had gone and ruined it all again like he always did.

Virgil slid down onto his floor and buried his head in his knees, breathing as slowly as he currently could.

Logan wasn’t… Logan wasn’t like Pride, he wasn’t like any of the others, maybe he wouldn’t…

Virgil took another shaky breath.  Even if he did, Virgil could stand his ground against Logan.  He wasn’t going to do this, not again.  He could defend himself against Logan if he had too.  And then the others would hate him again, but that would be fine.  Misery was right, after all, no one could ever really—

His thoughts were cut off by knocking.

“Virgil?  Patton informed me I might have distressed you.  Are you alright?”

Virgil took a couple more breaths to calm himself down, stood up and clenched his left hand into a fist, and pulled the door open with his right.

…Logan didn’t look nearly as angry anymore.  Something in Virgil’s chest released.

“I apologize, Virgil,” Logan said, clearly picking up on his obvious distress.  “I was not intending to alarm you.  We were having an argument about coffee creamer, I did not really input a lot of emotional investment.”

Virgil chuckled weakly.  “Yeah.  Yeah, me neither.  Sorry, I didn’t mean to freak out, I just…”

“It’s alright.  I promise I was not actually angry, I just do not enjoy leaving debates and arguments unfinished.”

Virgil nodded.  “Yeah,” he admitted.  “Neither do I.  It… really makes me feel like the other person is more pissed at me than they probably are.”

Logan nodded back slightly.  “Alright.  Then perhaps in the future if one of us is getting overheated, we should merely turn around and take a couple breaths to calm ourselves down, before continuing to debate much more calmly?”

“That… sounds good,” Virgil said.  “That sounds good, Lo.  Thank you.”

Logan gave Virgil a small smile.  “No thanks necessary, Virgil.  I would very much not want to continue to cause you distress if I could easily prevent doing so, after all.”

Virgil wiped the tears away from his eyes before they could fall and gave a sigh of relief.  “Thanks, Specs,” he whispered.  “Love you too.”

Virgil, believe it or not, rather enjoyed blowing things up.  It was quite the stress reliever, and with the added fact that nothing in Remus’ Imagination was real and no one would ever actually get hurt, it was very nice to watch the buildings in the distance be destroyed in the blink of an eye.  Not that he asked Remus every day.  He couldn’t rely on him to always be willing to help, after all.

Today, though, Remus had offered, and Virgil was now happily listening to the sound of rubble falling and the crashing of debris behind a blast shield a half a mile away.

Remus whistled from next to him.  “Damn, Virgil, that was a good throw.  I think you took down a skyscraper with that one.”

“Hmm, yes, very impressive,” Janus said, from his spot on Virgil’s other side casually looking at his nails.  “Of course, I did take down half a block earlier, so.”

“Of one-story residential homes,” Virgil said, sticking his tongue out at Janus.  “I win, Jan.”

“Oh, please.”

“Nope!” called Remus, jumping up and hurling another grenade towards the city.  He ducked down a second later and massive explosion rocked the terrain.  “I just took out three blocks at once!”

“Well, that’s totally fair, considering this is your Imagination and you don’t have any kind of leg up on us,” Janus said in annoyance.

“Yeah, come on Re, I call bullshit.”

“You’re both just jealous!” Remus sang, as if he had any kind of right to gloat in this situation.  Virgil hissed and swiped at Remus, which was of course the highest of insults coming from him.

Remus didn’t do anything other than cackle and hurl another grenade, though, so the message must have somehow not have gotten across.

With Remus using his completely unfair cheat code of having made the entire situation they were in, he ended up winning the count of buildings destroyed, followed, unfortunately, by Janus, who won in quantity— but definitely not in quality, because he didn’t bring down a single skyscraper, and Virgil was going to hold that over his head until the next time they came in here.

Janus ended up vanishing into the kitchen like a coward who was too scared to admit he’d practically lost.  He did return half an hour later with dinner, suggesting that might have been why he went into the kitchen, but that didn’t mean anything.

“So,” Janus said, setting down the mini pizzas.  “How did the video go?”

“Logan got ridiculously dark when he found out he was the reason Thomas was struggling with procrastination,” Virgil said, picking a slice of pizza.  “He started going on rants about snakes eating their tails to satiate their hunger.”

“Oooh, how fun!” Remus exclaimed.  “Wait, Janus do you have a tail?  Are you going to eat it?”

“No, I do not have a tail, and I also definitely don’t prefer human food, thank you,” Janus said with a shake of his head.

“Hey, hey Janus, retract your jaw and eat that slice of pizza in one bite!”

“I can’t do that.”

“Have you ever tried?” Virgil asked with a smirk.

“Not the point.”

“Oh, he can definitely do it,” Remus said with a nod, glancing over at Virgil.

“Yep, he’s holding out on us.”

“I am not—”

“Where will the lies end, Janny?” Remus asked, with an overdramatic shake of his head.

Janus sighed.  “What a reasonable question, it’s not like deception is my entire function or anything.”

“You’ve betrayed us for the last time,” Virgil said casually.  “I don’t see how we could ever trust you again.”

“Oh, and here I thought our relationship was going just fine.  I guess it serves me right.”

“I’m not getting enough love or cool detachable jaw demonstrations, Jan,” Remus said, wiping a fake tear from his eye.  “It’s only a matter of time until I stop wanting to associate with you.”

“Remind me again why I taught you two sarcasm?”

“You can’t go back!” Remus exclaimed, raising his hand up in the air dramatically.

“Yeah, this is really all your fault,” Virgil said, taking another bite of pizza.  “You should have known better.”

Janus gave a long, irritable sigh that did a poor job of hiding his amused smile, and they all finished dinner by finally continuing to debate on whether skyscrapers were worth more points when blown up than an entire neighborhood of single-floor homes.

They ended up in Janus’ room after dinner, with Janus reading, Remus trying to do finger painting using hopefully not human blood, and Virgil perched next to Janus on his bed, leaning on him and trying to see how loud he could make his music before Janus would ask him to turn it down.

Unfortunately, before Virgil could get any kind of answer to that question, a knock came on the door.

Virgil stood up on instinct and moved to lean against the wall next to the bed as Janus waved his hand to open the door.

Positivity was standing in the doorway, beaming his smile that didn’t do anything other than freak Virgil out at this point.

“Hey, sorry to bother you Deceit, I was looking for Anxiety?”

Virgil moved his hands behind his back and squeezed them together.  “Oh, sure,” he said.  “What did you need me for?”

“Come here and I’ll show you,” Positivity said, with another smile that Virgil was pretty sure only he could recognize as irritated.

He swallowed and started towards the door.

“Hey, Anxiety, come back after, okay?” Remus called.  “I’m gonna need both your opinions on the finished product.”

“Okay,” Virgil called, following Positivity out towards the living room, where unsurprisingly, Malice was waiting.

“Did you need something?” Virgil asked weakly.

“Only for you to stop being such a downer!” Positivity said.  “Honestly, Anxiety, all we wanted was to talk about how the video went!”

Virgil tried to keep the doubt out of his gaze.  He couldn’t come up with a reason Malice would be there if that was all they wanted.  But Positivity just kept beaming at him.  “That’s all we want to do,” he repeated.  “Understand?”

Oh.  Virgil got it now.  He nodded, trying to suppress the new surge of anger.  Positivity could do that to him.  Positivity as a whole was infuriating, from the smiles, to the way he made Virgil feel trapped, to the name change.  His function wasn’t actually Positivity, that was just what he called himself.  No one could remember his original function anymore.

That did mean that Virgil couldn’t say for certain that his function wasn’t “Huge Prick.”

Malice sighed from his spot across from them both, drawing Virgil out of his thoughts.  “Look, Anxiety,” he said, stepping across the room and wrapping his arms around Virgil’s shoulder.  “Talking about the video can really be all that happens now if you answer my questions, okay?  I just have a couple things that I need cleared up for me.”

Virgil swallowed and didn’t say anything, just waiting for Malice’s first question.

“Your role in Thomas’ videos is as the antagonist, is it not?”

Virgil nodded.

“Excellent.  I’m glad that’s been clarified.  So would you like to explain to me why you weren’t ultimately the main cause of Thomas’ problem?”

“Do you… want me to be the main source of Thomas’ problems?” Virgil asked in confusion.

“Oh, no,” Malice said.  “What I want is for you to be kicked out of those videos entirely.”  He squeezed Virgil a little tighter, and dug his nails into the burn on Virgil’s arm from last week, causing him to wince.  “But that isn’t an option, for whatever reason.  So I suppose the obvious villain in the videos will do for now.  Would you like to explain what happened today?”

“I just… wasn’t the problem,” Virgil said, knowing as he said it that it was stupid but not sure what else to say.  “That isn’t my fault—”

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Malice said.  He yanked Virgil’s sleeve up and raked his nails down the burn left there.  Virgil bit his lip hard and managed not to cry out.

“Nothing,” Virgil stammered.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“Oh, you better believe you’re sorry,” Malice said, low and dangerous.

“Anxiety,” Positivity said in that horribly cheerful voice of his, “You need to understand.  Things are fine the way they are!  You don’t need to change things!  We just don’t want you to rock the boat!”  He leaned forward and ruffled Virgil’s hair.  “After all, imagine what could happen if Thomas started to like you, or something like that!  We’d lose our favorite little Anxiety!  We wouldn’t want that, would we?”

He was looking at Virgil in the way that meant he wanted a response, but Virgil wasn’t sure how else to do so other than shake his head.

It at least seemed to be enough for Positivity, who beamed and gave Virgil a side hug from the opposite side of Malice.  “Oh, good!  I know I for one would miss you terribly.  But I’m not going to have to worry about it, because you’re going to do everything you can to keep things just as they are, right?”

Virgil nodded, trying to make himself as small as possible so he at least wasn’t pressed too hard against either Positivity or Malice’s side.

“See that you do,” Malice said, finally letting go of Virgil and giving him one last dangerous look before walking off and leaving Virgil with Positivity.

“Now since Deceit and the Duke expect you back, you can go,” Positivity said, still beaming.  “I’ll have Misery meet you in your room before bed tonight, okay?”

“Oh the Duke— wanted— a sleepover,” Virgil stammered on instinct.

Positivity’s smile widened.  “Cancel it.  Don’t worry, I’m sure he won’t mind!  Everything with you three is just fine and dandy all the time, isn’t it?”

Virgil swallowed.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“See you tomorrow, Anxiety!” Positivity called happily, dancing back around the corner as he waved to Virgil.

Virgil took a deep breath, ran his hands through his hair, and went to head back to Remus and Janus.

…

There weren’t any injuries for Misery to bandage this time, so Virgil wasn’t really sure what he was going to find when he went into his room, which is really the main reason why he stayed in Janus’ room as long as he possibly could.  It was only around the time that Janus himself said he was getting tired that Virgil left, and while Remus waved brightly before simply sinking out to his room, Virgil walked out the door and crossed the commons until he ended up outside his door.

He took half a minute to take some deep breaths before he finally pulled it open.  He instantly shivered and tucked his hoodie further around himself.  Misery must have been waiting for a while.  That wasn’t good.

Virgil took a couple steps in and flicked on the light switch to find Misery sitting on his bed, which wasn’t horror-movie levels of creepy or anything.

“Anxiety,” Misery said, giving a soft smile that definitely wasn’t real.  “Come here sweetheart, I need to explain something to you.”

“Um.” Virgil took a step back, towards the hallway.  “I—”

Misery sighed and stood up, walked across the room, and took Virgil by the arm, leading him back to the bed.

“Now, we were going to talk about your performance in the video today,” Misery said, pulling Virgil into his chest and holding him there.  “But then Positivity said you were trying to get out of seeing me by forcing Remus to help you.”

Virgil was surprised enough that he almost managed a protest.

“Anxiety,” Misery said.  “You already force them to spend time with you, you shouldn’t ask them to help you as well.”

“I don’t… force—” Virgil started.

“Oh, don’t you?” Misery asked, starting to run a hand through Virgil’s hair.  “You have to see it sweetheart, it’s not like Deceit and the Duke like the way that you drag them down all the time.  You know they would have so much more fun doing the things that they enjoy if you weren’t there freaking out about it all the time.”

“But I don’t—”

“Shh,” Misery said.  “It’s okay, you can’t help it.  You are Anxiety, after all.  But it’s not fair to stop them from doing the things they enjoy just because you don’t like them.”

Virgil didn’t have a rebuttal to that.  He hadn’t thought that had been happening, had it?  He liked doing wild and crazy things with Janus and Remus sometimes, with the only caveat being that no one got hurt.  But that wasn’t holding them back.  Was it?

“And it’s not fair to ask for their help all the time,” Misery said gently.  “You don’t want to be a burden to them, do you?”

Virgil curled up further, which was probably a mistake as it only resulted in Misery pulling him closer.

“Maybe you should let them do the things they enjoy by themselves a little more often,” Misery said gently.  “That would be fine, wouldn’t it?  As long as they can be happy, wouldn’t it be fine?”

Virgil managed a nod.

“Good,” Misery said, sounding pleased.  “See?  That’s fine.  You just have to stop being so selfish, sweetheart.  It’s okay, I know you can do it.”

Misery moved them both down to the top of the bed, and laid Virgil down before tucking the blankets over him.

“Goodnight, Anxiety,” he whispered.  “I know you’ll do better tomorrow.”

…

Virgil didn’t make a habit of falling asleep during movie nights, and he hadn’t expected tonight to be different.  He spent most of the night making casual banter with Roman, or laughing with Logan about the logistics of the movie they were watching, picked by Patton, who Virgil was ninety percent sure picked it in order to get everyone laughing.

But as the movie ended and Roman picked another one, Virgil found himself leaning against the side of the couch, and Patton starting to hum didn’t help matters, and by the time twenty minutes had passed Virgil was falling asleep.

He was woken seconds later by being yanked off of his bed and slammed against the wall next to it, and he barely had a chance to let out a cry of surprise when his gaze centered on the two sides in front of him, one being Positivity and the other being Remus.

“Oh, you were right, this is fun,” Remus said with a grin.  “I should have tried this sooner.”

“Didn’t I tell you?” Positivity said with a wide smile of his own.  Virgil tried to weakly push Remus off, but his just cackled and moved his hands to Virgil’s throat, and now he was squeezing, and Virgil couldn’t breathe—

“—irgil?  Virgil?  Virgil, it’s okay!  Virgil!”

Virgil reached out and shoved before he even managed to get his eyes open, but by the time he did he wished he hadn’t shoved anyone, because he wasn’t being slammed against a wall by Remus and Positivity, he was pressing himself against the arm of the couch and had just shoved Patton back into Roman and Logan.

“Sorry, I’m sorry!” Virgil cried, pulling his legs further back.

“It’s okay, kiddo,” Patton said with a smile.  “There’s nothing to be scared of.  We’re here, everything’s fine.”

Virgil’s throat closed up.  “No,” he choked out.  “No no no, everything is not fine, everything is not always fine!”

The three sides on the couch blinked at him, and Virgil tried to come up with something else to say.

“Sometimes things aren’t fine, sometimes things are awful and hurt and there’s nothing you can do about it,” Virgil snapped, which was definitely not the something else he wanted to say.  “And stop saying that’s fine.”

“Okay, okay,” Patton said, holding his hands up in a placating gesture.  Right, because Virgil had just snapped at him for no reason.  “You have a really bad nightmare, kiddo?”

Virgil opened his mouth and stopped.  Right, because now he was getting worked up over a stupid nightmare.  “Sorry,” he muttered, tucking his knees into his chest and turning away.  He was being unreasonable, it was just a dream.

“Hey, no, kiddo, that’s not what I meant,” Patton said.  “Nightmares can seem very real, I’m the last side that would get on your case for something like that.  It’s alright if they’re scary sometimes.”

Logan nodded from where he’d moved to Patton’s left.  “It is of course alright to be scared sometimes,” he said.  “Especially since that is already part of your job.  We merely wanted to know if you are alright.”

Virgil paused.  He looked up at the three of them and bit his lip, wondering if this was a stupid idea or even fair to them.  “And what if I’m not?”

Patton smiled just a little.  “Then that is alright, kiddo.  Gosh, bad nightmare, huh?”

Virgil nodded slowly.  It wasn’t really about the nightmare, but he wasn’t going to tell them that.

“Come here?” Patton opened his arms, moving back to where he’d been sitting on the couch before.

Virgil considered the idea for a second, but was too quickly bombarded with images of bandaging of his wounds and whispers of how worthless he was while being hugged against someone cold.

Virgil shook his head and curled up against the arm of the couch again, wishing he hadn’t seen the slightly disappointed look in Patton’s eyes.  He took a couple of deep breaths and held out his hand towards Patton, who took it and gently squeezed it with no comment.

When Virgil fell asleep again the nightmares were gone.

Virgil hadn’t expected to miss Janus and Remus as much as he did.  He probably should have.  He still saw them at dinnertime, because Janus made three meals and leaving the room would just be rude, but now it was like a switch had been flipped in his brain, and he could never tell if they sounded irritated when they asked him to do things anymore.  Excuses had become his normal go-to solution, and he was now wondering how strange it seemed to Janus and Remus that he was suddenly much busier than he’d been for… most of his life.

He was using the videos getting longer as a reason, trying to pretend as if he wanted to spend all of his time dealing with shit like Roman whining about being original, like they had done this past week.  But unfortunately, a side effect of not seeing Janus and Remus as often meant that his only non-violent interactions came from them, or Misery.  And suffice to say, they were preferable, meaning that Virgil was almost starting to… care?  Enough, anyway, that after the next video, when Logan told him that he didn’t mind his company, Virgil planned on spending the rest of the day in his room figuring out his feelings on that particular subject, and why they didn’t stop and start with “Whatever, I don’t need approval from The Man.”

Spending his time alone in his room had a different side effect, though, that being that most of his visitors were intending to bring him harm, which was just a lovely sentiment to have to deal with all the time.  When the sides at the door were either Remus or Janus inviting him to do something, Virgil had to work just a little harder not to flinch than he used to.  Of course, that didn’t mean he didn’t take them up on their offers.  If they offered, that meant they wanted him around, right?

Remus seemed to think so, if the way he’d spent the last hour looking up at Virgil and asking for approval was any indication.

“I don’t… really get the flaming chickens,” Virgil admitted, glancing back over.

“What do you mean you don’t get them?  They’re the emotional backbone of the whole painting!” Remus exclaimed, waving his arms as if to show his exasperation.

“I don’t know, why are you asking me?  Since when am I good at this stuff?” Virgil said.  “Janus is better at this than I am!”

“Janus is busy,” Remus whined.

Virgil swallowed, trying to decide if that meant he was only here because Janus was unavailable.

“Besides, what rule is there saying I can’t get help from you if I want it, huh?”

“There’s not a rule,” Virgil said, crossing his arms.  “I dunno, I just… it’s fine.  I’m here.  But I still don’t get the flaming chickens.”

“Ugh, you just don’t understand fine art.”

“I definitely don’t, but I don’t think that’s the only problem here.”

“Rude,” Remus said, even as he started grinning.  Virgil smiled a little back, and leaned back on the desk chair he was sitting on as Remus went back to painting his chickens.

Virgil ended up staying there until dinnertime, when Janus appeared in the doorway calling Remus’ name, then gave Virgil a look of surprise when he noticed him.  Virgil wasn’t sure what that meant, but all Janus ended up doing was telling them both dinner was ready and heading back out towards the kitchen again.

Remus picked up the rest of paint he’d been using with a remark that he was going to add it to his dinner, which was definitely potentially harmful in numerous ways, and Virgil grabbed the paint can before he could make it past the door.

“What— aw, Virgey, come on!”

“Nope.  I’m not going to let you eat something that could actually be hazardous to your health, I’d be a failure as Anxiety.  Now come on, let’s go eat.”

Virgil set the paint back down by the easel and almost missed Remus’ grumble of “You’re no fun.”

He hesitated as he stood again, trying to decide whether or not Remus was actually upset, but he bounded out of the room and towards the kitchen before Virgil could reach a conclusion.  He sighed and stepped out to head that direction himself, but as soon as he crossed the threshold for Remus’ room, a hand wrapped around his arm and yanked him to the side, away from the kitchen, and into Cruelty’s room.

Well, he supposed that answered questions about who had grabbed him.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” Cruelty snapped, slamming Virgil back against a wall.  Virgil had half a second to try and figure out what exactly that meant before Cruelty kept talking.  “We did tell you, did we not, that you needed to stop dragging everyone down?”

“I was supposed to go eat dinner—” Virgil wheezed.

“Oh you’re gonna show up a little late tonight,” Cruelty hissed, digging his nails into the cuts that had been left by Pride yesterday.  Virgil pulled in a little gasp, which unfortunately Cruelty heard.  He started to smile, which was never a good sign.

“Fine,” he spat out to try and counter.  “You want to explain to Deceit and the Duke why I’m late, you be my guest.”

“Shut your mouth or I’ll cut it off, you whiny little pest,” Cruelty snapped.

“Yeah, because that won’t tell anyone something’s wrong.”

Cruelty grabbed a knife from a nearby table, stuck it in one of the cuts he’d torn open, and twisted.  Virgil couldn’t help the scream that came out that time, and the way it made Cruelty laugh didn’t feel any better.

Before Cruelty could try anything else, a loud knock came from what sounded like Remus’ room next door.

“Anxiety?” Janus called.  “Are you coming?”

Cruelty sighed in irritation.  “Wait here.”

He yanked the knife from Virgil’s arm and sunk out, and Virgil screamed through his teeth, which he could do while he wasn’t there.  He was about to try and sink out to his own room when Cruelty started talking outside.

“Yeah, Anxiety told me he was tired and going to bed.  What, he didn’t tell you that?”

Janus sighed in obvious irritation.  “No, he apparently doesn’t seem to think we deserve to know what’s going on in his life anymore.”

“Man, sounds like he’s been a real dick lately.  I always knew there was something wrong with him.  I can talk to him if you want.”

“No, don’t worry about it.  I’ll put his food in the fridge, he’ll probably wake up hungry in the middle of the night.  Thanks anyway.”

The footsteps shortly after probably meant Janus was walking away.  A second after that, Cruelty reappeared in the room, beaming, which was never a good sign.

“Well,” he said.  “I guess we don’t have to talk for the next couple hours then.”

Virgil swallowed.  Don’t scream.  He could limit how long this lasted if he didn’t scream.  He took a deep breath, held it, and squeezed his eyes shut as Cruelty swung another knife towards him.

…

Misery was already waiting in Virgil’s bedroom by the time he got there, and Virgil couldn’t find it in him to be surprised or fight back anymore.  His entire body was aching and sore, and even though he knew he shouldn’t, he wanted Misery’s fake tenderness and to not have to worry about bandaging these wounds himself.  He wasn’t even sure if he could have managed it properly.

“Oh, Anxiety, what were you thinking?” Misery said quietly.  “I already told you, all you do for Deceit and the Duke is drag them down.  Why would you think they’d want to spend time with you?”

A list of protests that Virgil didn’t have energy to name ran through his head, but in the end he just kept quiet as Misery wrapped a bandage around his arm.

“You couldn’t tell that they were just asking because they pity you?” Misery asked.  “You always have been rather slow, Anxiety, but I would have thought that was obvious.”

Was it?  Virgil didn’t think they pitied him.  He would have given them a long angry lecture about why he didn’t need pity if he got even an ounce of the feeling that they pitied him.

“They just feel bad for you because no one else cares for you,” Misery said.  “And you keep taking advantage of that.  I thought you didn’t want to do that.”

Virgil didn’t have anything to say to that.  He hadn’t thought he was taking advantage of anything.

“You just need to try a little harder, that’s all,” Misery said.  “It’s not hopeless, despite so much being wrong with you already.”

Virgil tried to stamp down the way his spirits lifted slightly at the idea of it being “not hopeless.”  That being a nice idea wasn’t a good thing, even though he couldn’t really seem to remember why right now.

“Now let me finish here, alright?  And maybe you should take some time to yourself tomorrow.  Try and figure things out.  Okay?”

Virgil managed a slight nod, and Misery smiled.  “There you go, I knew you’d understand.  Hang on, I’m almost done.  Then I’ll leave you alone like someone as worthless as you deserves, okay sweetheart?”

…

Roman could be a bit much sometimes.  Virgil had told him this mostly through insults, and to be honest, he wasn’t sure how to do so otherwise.  Roman could just be so eccentric, and energetic, and… loud.  Very, very loud.  An unfortunate (or was it?  He still couldn’t really be sure) side effect of that was that Virgil tended to ignore him on days that his anxiety was worse.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t really do so this morning with the way Roman made his entrance.

He was downstairs in the kitchen, and it was early enough in the morning that he was still half-asleep and trying to inhale some coffee.

He drank about three cups while listening to Patton chatter on about the plans for the day, and Logan cutting in with remarks about how Thomas should really be more focused on the things he had to get done than Patton was currently suggesting.  Virgil was beginning to smile at the back and forth and starting to wake up just a little from the coffee when the door opened very suddenly.

“Good morning to all!” Roman called loudly, and Virgil hissed and leapt up from his chair, moving behind it like it could shield him from anything Roman could try to do.

“Morning, Roman,” Patton said, glancing over at Virgil.  “Maybe lower the volume a bit, kiddo?”

“Ah, yes, yes,” Roman said, moving over to make one of the cinnamon raisin bagels that he loved.  “Anyway, I hope you all haven’t made plans for the day yet, because I am taking us all on an adventure in the Imagination!”

“Well, actually kiddo, we did have some plans set aside for—”

“It won’t take long!” Roman called, waving Patton’s concerns off.  “It’s not an all-day adventure, we’ll be back by lunch!”

Patton exchanged a glance with Logan, who shrugged.

“Well, I suppose that’s okay with us, kiddo,” he said.  “Virgil?”

Virgil swallowed and moved to sit on his chair again.  “What’s going to happen on the adventure?”

“Oh, I can’t tell you that,” Roman said, rolling his eyes.  “It would ruin the whole point of this being an adventure.”

“Roman I… don’t want to deal with any surprises today,” Virgil muttered, pulling on his hoodie strings.  “Is there going to be any danger or like, loud noises or something?”

Roman threw his hands up.  “Maybe!  I don’t know, but I really think you’re missing the point of an adventure!  I worked hard on this one, okay?  Do you think you could be ready after lunch instead?”

“I don’t know,” Virgil snapped.  “Look, I just don’t know if today is the day, Princey.  It’s not my fault you’re terrible at picking days where I’m not anxious.”

“Okay, kiddos, let’s take a breath,” Patton said, stepping forward in between Roman and Virgil.  “Roman, it’s not Virgil’s fault if today is a bad anxiety day.  And Virgil, Roman did say he worked pretty hard on this, and we can appreciate that even if today isn’t the day we end up doing it, okay?”

“Well, it’s not my fault that we just got up and Virgil’s already ruining the fun,” Roman said, crossing his arms.  “I’m not the one with something wrong with them.”

“Roman!” Patton called.

Virgil stood up before anyone could say anything else and walked out of the room, ignoring Patton calling after him.  He opened the door to his room and slammed it after him, appreciating the way it banged loud enough to definitely be heard throughout the house.

He leaned back against it after it closed and slid down to the floor, stopping himself before he did something stupid and pathetic like cry.

God, of course Roman was the one to think there was something wrong with him.  How had he not seen this coming?

But why was it his fault if he didn’t want to go on an adventure today?  He couldn’t control when his anxiety acted up, and why should he care how hard Roman worked?

…Okay, maybe that part was a little unfair.  But it didn’t mean there was something wrong with him!  Hadn’t they done a whole video about that?  Had Roman just been lying?

Virgil scoffed and set his head on his knees.  Wouldn’t be the first time someone had done that.

About ten minutes had passed when he heard a knock on his door.  “Virgil?”

Roman.

“Virgil?  Virgil, I’m sorry.”

Virgil stood up and cracked the door, glaring out of it.  Roman was standing on the other side, looking guilty.

“I’m sorry,” Roman said again.

Virgil opened the door further and crossed his arms, looking down at his shoes.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” Roman continued.  “It’s not your fault if your anxiety is acting up.”

“Did Patton make you come up here?” Virgil mumbled.

“Patton told me off in the kitchen, but I came up here on my own.  I’m sorry, Virgil.  I was very excited for the adventure I had planned, I’d worked really hard on it, and I got upset when you said you wouldn’t be up for it.  But it wasn’t fair to take that out on you.”

“Yeah, well,” Virgil muttered, crossing his arms.  “Sorry there’s so much wrong with me.”

There was a moment of silence, and Virgil almost looked just to see what Roman’s face was like.

“Hey, Stormcloud.  It’s okay to have flaws.”

Virgil looked up.  “Huh?”

“I mean, I don’t think it could fairly be said that your anxiety is a flaw if that’s your whole job, but it’s okay to not be perfect.  Flaws don’t make one unworthy of love.”  Roman tipped his head, looking curiously at him.  “Has Patton never given you that speech?”

“Uh.”

“Well, he should then.  Because it’s true.  He gives it to me often enough whenever I forget that I don’t have to be perfect.  Even if there’s something wrong with you, we still love you, Stormcloud.”

Virgil blinked..  “…Oh.”  He looked down again.  “What makes you different?”

“Huh?  What do you mean?”

“I don’t… nothing.  I don’t mean anything.  I… thanks, Roman.  I needed to hear that.”  He glanced up.  “I think I could probably do the adventure tomorrow, if I could spend today with some more relaxing activities.”

Roman beamed.  “Really?”

“Yeah.  I don’t want to let it go to waste if you put a lot of hard work into it.”

Roman somehow smiled even wider, and bounced a little on his feet in excitement.  Virgil thought for a moment that he might do it just to see Roman excited like that.

“Oh, excellent!” Roman cried.  “I’ll tell Logan to clear the schedule tomorrow!”

He turned and was about to bound away when Virgil cut him off.  “Hey, Princey.”

Roman turned back around.  “Yes?”

Virgil took a deep breath to steady himself, then leaned forward and pulled Roman into a quick hug.  He let go and pulled back second later.  “Thanks.”

Roman blinked for a second in surprise, but then smiled again.  “Of course, My Nightmare Before Christmas.  I couldn’t leave you thinking you might have really angered me.  I was only momentarily disappointed.  But now I can look forward to tomorrow!  Come, and let us have a Disney marathon for the ages!”

“Only if you stop talking like that.”

“I absolutely refuse to do so!”

Imprudence lived up to his function.  Virgil never really spent a ton of time with him, his time was filled more by sides like Pride, Cruelty, and Malice, especially lately, since he didn’t really see much of Janus or Remus anymore.  But even though he’d been seeing slightly more of Imprudence as of late, he was still surprised when he was grabbed by the arm by him after breakfast one morning, dragged through the mindscape, through Remus’ empty room, and into his side of the Imagination.

“We’re going on an adventure!” he said, grinning at Virgil in the manic way that never meant anything good.

“Wait, we’re what?” Virgil called, as Imprudence dragged them both towards a cliff.  “Right now?  Shouldn’t we wait and— oh, come on, who the hell am I talking to.”

Imprudence came to a stop at the top of the cliff and started bouncing on his toes a little, dangerously close to the edge.  He grinned back at Virgil.  “You’re going first.”

“I’m doing what?”

“Go on, it’ll be fun, I’m sure you won’t get hurt.”

“You can’t get hurt in the Imagination,” Virgil said, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, really?  Well, you might be able to with this, since I made it, but go on anyway!”

“Wait, what?  You don’t want to put on any safety equipment, or— oh god I keep forgetting who I’m talking to.”

“Go on!” Imprudence called, sounding more than a little irritated at this point.  “Before I get annoyed with how much of a scaredy cat you’re being and just shove you!”

“I’m going!” Virgil cried, holding his hands up as he started towards the edge of the cliff.  “Why the hell are we doing this anyway?”

“Oh, Malice said it might be fun, and then he threatened me if I didn’t take you here, so.”

“Wait, Malice said what?”

“Are you going or not?”

Virgil looked over the side of the cliff and swallowed, suddenly much more nervous than he would have normally been doing something in the Imagination.  But Imprudence was standing behind him tapping his foot, and Virgil didn’t doubt his threat about pushing.

He looked over the side and found the first spot that seemed like it would be a good place for a foothold, and carefully put his foot there to test it.  It held, and Virgil took a shaky breath and carefully moved over the side of the cliff, finding another foothold near the first one.

“Come on, pick up the pace, I want to climb too!” Imprudence whined, stamping his foot.

“I’m going, I’m going,” Virgil said, shifting down and to the right when he found more footholds there.  He definitely didn’t move as quickly as Imprudence wanted if the irritated sighs from above him were anything to go by, but he suddenly wasn’t sure if he would make it out of this okay, so he was going to move as slow as his nerves would let him.

He’d almost made it all the way down the cliff before he couldn’t find a new place to put his hands.  He tried a couple spots, but after the third place he tried crumbled under his foot, he moved back to where he’d been and took a couple breaths to stop the way his heart was racing in his chest.

“Anxiety!” Imprudence called from above him.  “Come on, let’s get moving!”

“Give me a minute, I’m trying to find a place to go next!” Virgil called back up.

Imprudence groaned and started to nudge his foot towards Virgil.  “Come on, let’s pick it up, I want to get to the next part of this thing!”

“There’s another part of—” Virgil started, but that was as far as he got before Imprudence kicked a little too hard at the rock his hand was holding onto, and it crumbled, and his hand slipped off.

Virgil cried out and scrambled for another part of the rock.

“Hey, that works!” Imprudence called, and shifted over and started kicking at his other hand.

“Imprudence!” Virgil screamed.  “Stop it!”

“Let go then!” Imprudence said, knocking at the other rock until it crumbled.  Virgil screamed and managed to grab onto another part of the cliff, holding on too tightly in a way that was definitely going to cut his hands, not that it would matter the next second anyway, because Imprudence kicked Virgil hard enough in the head that it pushed him downwards and his hands slid off of the cliff.

Virgil was in freefall for a terrifying second before he slammed into the ground.

He laid there for a second, blinking and waiting for the pain that was no doubt coming.  It was a couple seconds later when everything started to ache, and Virgil started wheezing.

Imprudence landed on his feet on the ground next to him just after that.  “Come on, get up,” he said, nudging Virgil with his foot.

“You hurt… my everything,” Virgil got out.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t realize that could happen,” Imprudence said, looking off into the distance.  “So I have some deep sea diving next, how long do you need to be good?”

“I…” Virgil let out another breath that ended up coming out as a gasp.

“Oh come on, get up,” Imprudence said, leaning down and pulling Virgil up, and ignoring his cry of pain.

Virgil tried to take stock in between moments of being dragged along after Imprudence to judge how injured he was.  Nothing felt broken.  His wrist was hurting, but not that badly.  It might have been sprained.  His back was going to ache for a month, but otherwise, he didn’t think he’d fallen too far to do any real damage.

Imprudence stopped running, and Virgil stumbled to a stop behind him.  In front of them now was a roaring ocean.

“Hey, Anxiety,” Imprudence said, looking back at him with the same manic grin from earlier.  “You want to see who can hold their breath for longer?”

…

By the time Virgil made it back to his room that night he was thoroughly exhausted, and when he saw Misery sitting on his bed with a first aid kit, he quickly decided that every part of his body ached too much to do anything other than walk over and sit down to let Misery look him over.

“Hmm, so I hear you and Imprudence had an adventure today,” Misery said, sounding more amused than anything else.  “You really should have been more careful, Anxiety, you know no one’s going to care if you get hurt.”

Virgil winced as Misery started rubbing antibiotic ointment on one of the open cuts he’d gotten from scraping on a tree branch.

“I mean, why else would Remus and Janus do dangerous things in the Imagination with you all the time?  You have always hated them after all.  They just don’t care if you get hurt.  Which is perfectly fair of them, you do get hurt all the time after all.  You’re the only one who doesn’t seem to be used to it.”

Virgil probably would have said some form of apology there if he’d had the energy to move.  Misery lifted up the back of his shirt to start applying bruise cream to his back, and Virgil winced at the pain and started shivering at Misery touching so much bare skin, which just made him even colder.

“It’s about time you should adapt to this, you know,” Misery said.  “It’s not like your life is going to get any better.  You don’t deserve it, sweetheart.”  Misery pulled his shirt back down and finally moved to pull Virgil into his chest.  “You know that, right?  You know you deserve everything you get?”

Misery was quiet for long enough that he must have been expecting an answer, so Virgil mustered up enough energy to nod.

“Well, that’s good at least,” Misery said, running a hand through Virgil’s hair.  “Anxiety, you just have to adapt.  You’ll get used to it eventually.  It’ll be okay.”

It won’t, it would not be okay, there was no way it would ever be okay again.

“Now how about you get some sleep?  I think I’ll stay here tonight, you might need some help tomorrow.”

Virgil wanted to protest, he’d never done that before, but before he could even decide if he really wanted to try, Misery was shifting them both back down onto the bed and pulling the covers over them.  Not that they did much good, Misery still made everything so cold.

The combination of cold and exhaustion meant it took a while before Virgil fell asleep, and by the time he got there he was still miserable, no doubt helped along by his company.

…

Misery being the one to shake Virgil awake meant that he woke up still exhausted.  He checked all of the bandages he’d put on Virgil last night as if he expected anything to change, then headed out, and Virgil realized that another reason he might be so tired is because it was six in the morning.  He collapsed back into bed and was about to sleep for another six hours when another body landed on top of his.

Virgil tensed up and was about to brace himself, but instead whoever it was just pulled him into a hug.  “Virgil!” Remus cried.  “You’re not sleeping late today, we’re going on an adventure!”

Virgil plopped his head onto his pillow.  “No,” he groaned.

“Scare bear,” Remus whined, squirming around until he could look Virgil in the eyes.  “I never see you anymore.  Malice said you’re free today, and he sees you more than I do now for some reason, so that means you are free, right?”

Something in Virgil’s chest got so cold for a second he wondered if Misery was still in the room.  “Malice said what?”

“He said you’re free!  He said Imprudence needed you yesterday but now you’re free.  Are you free?  Come have fun with me!  We can blow stuff up!”

Virgil swallowed.  “I— I don’t—”  He stopped and looked at Remus.  He looked so hopeful and excited, in a way that meant there was no chance he was forcing himself to do this.  Virgil couldn’t imagine why Remus had decided he wanted to hang out with him, but he had missed him so much…

“Okay,” Virgil said finally.

Remus lit up.  “Really?”

“Yeah.  Just let me eat some breakfast first, okay?”

“Okay!  Hang on, I’ll ask Janny to make some more eggs, he’s making me some right now!”

“Wait you don’t have to burden him with—” Virgil started, but Remus sank out before Virgil could finish.  He sighed and rubbed at his eyes, sat up in bed, and stretched.  He was going to need some coffee.

He was planning to head out to the kitchen to eat, but he took a longer time to get dressed than expected due to how exhausted he was, and before he could Remus reappeared in his room holding a plate of eggs and a cup of coffee.

“Come on, let’s go!” he called, shoving them at Virgil and nearly spilling both of them everywhere.

“Jesus, hang on,” Virgil said, grabbing them both and setting them down on the desk.  “It’s 6:30, Remus, I’m not normally up at this time.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re boring,” Remus said, flopping back on Virgil’s bed.  “Hurry up and eat!”

“I’m working on it,” Virgil said, waving him off as he started shoveling eggs into his mouth.  He finished them fairly quickly, then drank the lukewarm mug of coffee in one go and set both dishes back down on his desk to wash later.

“Does that mean you’re done?” Remus called happily, leaping up from the bed.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Remus whooped in excitement and grabbed Virgil’s arm before sinking them both out and reappearing in his room, then dragged Virgil through the already-open door to the Imagination.

They ended up in a similar landscape to the last time they’d decided to blow things up, except instead of a city, they were met with an empty kingdom down below the cliff they were standing on.

“Look, he felt like he had to get rid of all the people for your sake,” Misery’s voice whispered in the back of his head.

Virgil shook himself and glanced back over to Remus, who was setting down a handful of various explosives near the edge of the cliff.

He didn’t like the cliff aspect at all, but if Remus had already made the kingdom empty, he wasn’t going to ask him to get rid of the cliff too.  Virgil moved to the edge, trying to tense up his legs so their shaking wouldn’t be noticeable, and mostly succeeding.  Enough that Remus didn’t seem to notice, anyway.

Remus turned back to face him and grinned, holding out a stick of dynamite that he’d lit.  “You want first dibs?”

Virgil smiled a little despite himself and took the dynamite, then hurled it towards the castle down below, watching some of the materials get blown high enough into the air that Virgil hurled a grenade at one of them and shattered it further.

By the time they managed to destroy most of the castle and a couple other buildings, Virgil’s fear had faded a little bit, and he was starting to laugh.

Remus was laughing too, and clearly having a great time, and that alone might have made this whole thing worth it.

The last tower of the castle was destroyed by one of Remus’ throws, and once again one of the pieces flew up.  It was a little closer to the edge, and Virgil opened his mouth to remark to Remus to leave that one alone, but Remus had already hurled a grenade, and the larger piece exploded into slightly smaller pieces.

One of which hit the cliff right under where Virgil was standing.  The ground he was standing on went with it, and Virgil fell over the side, towards the kingdom below.

Okay, okay, breathe.  He’d be fine.  He’d never gotten hurt in the Imagination before— at least until yesterday.  But Imprudence had built that stuff, Remus was better about that, he wouldn’t…

Unless Misery was right.  Unless Remus didn’t care about him getting hurt.  Oh god, how far away was the ground—

Virgil landed badly on his ankle.  He heard a snap that definitely wasn’t good, and pulled in a gasp as he once again waited for the pain to hit.

Much faster than Imprudence had yesterday, Remus landed on the ground next to him.  Like Imprudence, however, he didn’t seem too concerned.

“Dang it, Virgey, why’d you have to fall?  It’s gonna take us a while to get back up there—”  Virgil couldn’t stop the pained gasp that came out as his ankle started throbbing, and Remus stopped talking instantly.

“Wait.  Wait, are you actually hurt?  Holy shit, Virgil!”  Remus dropped to the ground next to him, and Virgil tried weakly to move away.

“Oh shit, what— how— Virgil I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize that could happen!  Here, let me look—”

“Get away,” Virgil said, pushing weakly against Remus.

“Hang on, hang on, let me—”  He felt Remus’ hands on his ankle, surprisingly gentle, and a second later something there snapped back into place.

Virgil shifted immediately and scrambled backwards.

“Are you okay?” Remus asked instantly.

“Get away!” Virgil cried, still moving backwards.  Eventually he pushed himself up and stumbled back a couple more steps, keeping Remus in his line of sight just in case.

“Virgil, I’m just trying to—”

“Get away from me!” Virgil screamed, his voice amplifying as the heartbeat in his chest picked up.  “Get away!”

He finally realized he could just sink out before Remus came over here to hurt him in some other way, and did that, ending up back in his bedroom.  He scrambled over to the door and locked it, then back over towards his bed and pressed himself against the wall in between his bed and his nightside table.

Breathe, breathe, breathe.  You’re alone, you’re fine, breathe.

Misery was right.  Virgil couldn’t be surprised by getting hurt anymore.  He normally made it to around breakfast before someone had some kind of idea for how he should spend the next half of his day in pain, and then wasted no time on making their idea a reality.  Usually it was Cruelty or Pride, which was better than the alternative.  Virgil at least knew how to handle them.  The problem came when it wasn’t them, and it was Malice instead.

Malice wasn’t anything like Cruelty or Pride.  He liked to cause pain in the same way, but there was no easy way out in getting boring, like for Cruelty, or giving him what he wanted, like for Pride.  Malice wanted to cause the most pain possible, and he had long learned how to tell if he was actually affecting Virgil or not.  Meaning that on days like this morning, when Malice showed up right after he finished eating, Virgil could never be sure what to expect other than the fact that it would be bad.

“Anxiety,” Malice said, his tone sounding the kind of light that it did when he was feeling anything but.  “Good morning.”

Virgil swallowed.  “Good morning, Malice.”

“No Deceit and the Duke today?” Malice said casually, in a way that meant he knew exactly what had happened with Remus.  His smirk in the next second just confirmed that.  “I assume you’re just rightfully scared they’ll hurt you again.”

Virgil winced and looked down at the pile of dirty dishes that had started to grow on his desk.  “Please stop.”

“Oh, Anxiety, why would I do that when seeing you so miserable is my favorite part of the day!”

Virgil wasn’t sure what Malice wanted right now, or whether leaving or staying was a better idea.  Probably better to just hear him out.  He’d definitely piss him off if he left.

“I mean, just look at you,” Malice said, sounding thoroughly amused.  “Unwanted, alone, unloved.”

“Deceit and the Duke love me,” Virgil muttered.

Malice gave a huff of laughter.  “Do they now?  Despite the fact that they don’t want to spend time with you and don’t care if you get hurt?  Despite the fact that you only drag them down?”

Virgil didn’t reply, but Malice must have seen something that convinced him he meant it, because the next second he stopped talking, and when Virgil looked up his gaze hardened.  He sunk out, but Virgil wasn’t stupid enough to think he wouldn’t be back.  Sure enough, half a minute later he showed up and grabbed Virgil roughly by the arm, then sunk them both out this time.  They reappeared in a room Virgil had never been in before, though the instant cold that seeped right down into his bones gave him a pretty good idea of whose room it was.

Malice dropped Virgil off with little ceremony and sunk back out himself, and Virgil got about two seconds to brace himself before he was lifted up by Misery in the same gentleness as always.  Virgil started shivering the second Misery touched him.

“Oh, Anxiety,” Misery said, sounding very disappointed in a way that should not be affecting Virgil as much as it already was.  He tsked and shook his head.  “Malice is right.  You know they don’t really love you, right?”

Virgil wasn’t sure where in the world he found the strength, but he pushed back against Misery’s chest enough that he stumbled back a step.

Misery sighed and pulled Virgil back in with almost no effort.  “I’m serious, sweetheart.  They don’t love you.”

“Stop,” Virgil got out.

“Why is that so hard to believe?  They don’t like spending time with you, they don’t care when you’re hurt, they know you just drag them down, why would they love you despite all of that?”

Virgil shook his head and pushed against Misery again, despite having much less energy than before.  “They— th-they do,” he stammered through his teeth starting to chatter.

Misery sighed, and took Virgil gently by the shoulders, leading him over to the bed.  “Okay, sweetheart, we’re going to have to have a talk about this.”  He sat them both down and held Virgil at arm’s length, looking him in the eyes.  “When people love you, they want to be around you, and they care about you being okay.  Right?”

Virgil didn’t reply.

“Right, Anxiety?”

He nodded.

“So logically, if those things aren’t true for Deceit or the Duke, that means they don’t love you.”

Virgil winced.  “B-but they—”

“Don’t.  Love you.  I mean, think about it, Anxiety, how often do they even tell you they care about you?”

“Well—” Virgil started, but Misery cut him off by squeezing his shoulders tighter.

“They don’t, do they?”

Well, they didn’t, but that didn’t necessarily mean they didn’t love him.  Janus and Remus just weren’t the kind of people who liked saying that kind of stuff out loud.  Janus was Deceit for Pete’s sake, and Remus was… Remus.  They weren’t exactly the type to show affection through their words.  He wasn’t either.  But that didn’t mean they didn’t care about him… did it?

“But th-th-they…”

“Anxiety,” Misery said softly.  “Have I been wrong before?”

Virgil sniffed.  “But—”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Misery said, pulling Virgil down to his chest.  “It’s okay.  I know it’s hard when no one cares about you.  But you’ve just got to accept that that’s the way things are.  Okay?”

Virgil tried one last time to push himself off of Misery, but he was weak and cold and, well, miserable at that point, so Misery easily held on to him.  “I’m sorry that no one loves you, Anxiety,” he said.  “But I keep telling you, this is what you deserve.  Why do you refuse to accept this?”

Virgil sniffed again.  “I’m sorry.”

“You should be, sweetheart,” Misery whispered.  “This would all be so much easier if you just did what you’re told.”

Virgil couldn’t find it in him to reply anymore, and instead put what little he had left towards not crying in front of Misery.  He wasn’t going to do that, even if his eyes were already burning.

“We’re gonna stay here for a little while, okay Anxiety?”

It was a question, but Virgil definitely didn’t have a choice in the matter.  The second Misery pulled him to his chest he started shivering harder, and then he laid them both down on the bed and pulled the covers over them, which definitely didn’t help matters.

Virgil drew his arms close to his chest in a definitely doomed way to try and get warm.  This wasn’t going to end anytime soon.

Virgil thought about Cruelty, and besting him by being boring, Pride, and besting him by doing what he wants.  Neither of those strategies would work with Misery.  Maybe Misery was the most similar to Malice.  Maybe all Virgil could do was wait it out and let him do what he wants.  Or maybe it could go faster if he just agreed with what Misery said.

It’s not like he was ever wrong anyway.

…

It was the middle of the night and Virgil needed water.  He managed to drag himself out of bed and towards the door, pressed his ear to it and listened for noise outside.  Sometimes Cruelty stayed up late to try and get a jump on him, though he didn’t really expect anything tonight.  When his suspicions were rewarded and he didn’t hear anything, Virgil nudged the door open and headed into the kitchen.

He filled a glass of water and started to drink it when a familiar voice sounded from behind him.

“Ah, so you are still alive.”

Virgil spit out most of the water in his mouth and choked on what was left, which ended in a coughing fit and setting the glass down on the counter so it didn’t spill.  He finished coughing and stood back up, but didn’t turn around again at first.

“Are you alright, Virgil?” Janus asked, though he sounded more irritated than anything else.

Virgil winced and finally turned.  Janus was leaning against the doorway to the kitchen with a tired expression.  Virgil wrapped his arms around his middle and nodded.

Janus sighed and moved over towards the cabinet, grabbing a cup which meant he was probably here for the same reason Virgil was.

“I’m shocked you’re not fleeing the room at the sight of me,” Janus said, shooting a glance over his shoulder as he filled the glass up with water at the sink.  “Aren’t you putting all your energy into avoiding Remus and I lately?”

Virgil flinched again and started pulling on his hoodie strings.  “Do you—” he started, and stopped.

Janus turned and raised an eyebrow.  “Do I what?”

“Do you hate me?” Virgil blurted.

Janus stared at him.  A second later, he sighed.  “Why of course, Virgil.  I’ve never hated anyone more in my life,” he said, and Virgil felt something in his chest snap in half.

Janus apparently wasn’t done, though.  “We just want to know what’s going on with you,” he said.  So that was it?  Virgil had ruined everything just by not being around as often?  Was that really all it took?

“We never see you anymore,” Janus continued.  “Is something wrong?  Has something changed?  Is this about the core sides?”

Virgil stared at Janus in bafflement.  “What?”  What in the world did the core sides have to do with anything?

“Well, forgive me for thinking what I think, Virgil,” Janus said, throwing his hands up.  “You’re spending all of your time with either them or the others.  I can certainly understand wanting to be liked by Thomas and the core sides, I just…” Janus sighed and looked off to the side.  There was a pregnant pause where Virgil tried to figure out what the hell was going on in Janus’ head.  He didn’t get anywhere.

Finally, he just sighed and looked back at Virgil.  “Look, if this is what you want, then fine.  Just don’t expect Remus and I to wait around if you’re not going to put in the same effort.”

Virgil blinked quickly.  He wasn’t going to start crying.  The only thing worse than crying in front of Misery would be crying in front of Janus.  “Okay,” he whispered.  “Fine.  You won’t have to spend time around someone you hate anymore.”

Janus let out a much harsher sigh, clearly irritated.  “Now that’s not fair, Virgil.”

Virgil flinched.  “I know.  I’m sorry.”  He grabbed his cup and dumped the rest of the water into the sink, then sunk back out to his room.

He definitely wasn’t going to be able to sleep for the rest of the night.

The Subconscious was not a place Virgil frequented.

Well to be fair, it wasn’t a place any side frequented, really, given what happened to a side when they ended up there.  The Subconscious came with a nice little “go in there and you stop affecting Thomas” side effect.  But Virgil was desperate.

Normally, in a situation where everyone tried to gang up on him at once, he’d go find Janus or Remus and ask if he could accompany them on whatever they were doing at the current moment.  But that obviously wasn’t an option anymore.  And Virgil had to go somewhere they were the least likely to follow.

Like here.  The Subconscious itself could end up like a twisted version of the Imagination, where any side could twist and shape it the way they wanted, but the more they did so, the more likely they were to get stuck there.  It was for this reason that Virgil didn’t create anything to hide behind.  Well, that and the fact that it would be an obvious sign that someone was here anyway.  If they ended up here, he was already screwed no matter what.  He’d just have to try and wait it out, and breathe.  Breathing would probably be helpful.  If he focused on that he could ignore his instincts that were screaming at him to make a bookshelf, a big rock, a wall, anything to hide behind.

He was fine.  He’d be fine.  Why would they come in here?  They wouldn’t.  They knew how dangerous it was.  They couldn’t be that mad, right?  He didn’t even know what he’d done.

Footsteps stormed past the door back to the mindscape.  Virgil tensed and buried his head in his knees until they passed.

See?  Fine, you’re fine, they’re gone now, they’re…

Coming back.  Virgil jerked his head up and scrambled backwards, as if that would do anything.  The footsteps stopped outside of the door, there was a second of sickening silence, and then it slammed open.

Virgil screamed and threw his hands up in front of his face on instinct.

“So you came in here,” Malice said, not sounding at all happy with that fact.  “You sneaky little pest.”

Virgil started scrambling backwards, but he didn’t make it farther than a couple feet before Malice stormed across the room and hoisted him upright, then threw him across the empty space.  He landed hard on his back.

“Oh, you found Anxiety!” came Positivity’s cheerful voice from the doorway.

“Positivity,” Malice said.  “Be a dear and make some chains, would you?”

“You don’t think I’ll get stuck here?” Positivity asked.

“Not for something that small,” Malice said, waving his hand dismissively.

Positivity seemed to accept this.  “Alrighty then!  One set of chains for our lovely little torture victim, coming right up!”

Virgil jumped up to try and make a break for the door, but before he could make it more than a step Positivity waved his hand with a beaming grin and chains wrapped themselves around Virgil’s arms, then pulled him back down towards the floor.

“I can just make these disappear!” Virgil spat, doing just that.

Positivity waved his hand and the chains reappeared.

“Oh please, be my guest,” Malice said.  “You’ve been in here longer than us, if you want to risk getting stuck here, I’m not going to stop you.”

Virgil yanked experimentally on the chains, but they weren’t actually attached to anything that existed, which meant they just went far down into the nothingness surrounding them and Virgil couldn’t make any leeway in that way.

“Where’s Pride?  I thought that idiot wanted first dibs,” Malice said, turning back to face Positivity.

“He’ll be here soon!  He wanted to get his favorite toys,” Positivity said.

Malice nodded slightly at that, and Virgil tried to steady his breathing.  If Pride was coming, he needed to have a lot of air to be able to scream.

Pride arrived in the doorway a couple minutes later, holding his favorite set of knives and what looked like Remus’ morningstar, which was definitely a mistake.  Remus was going to be pissed when he found out it was missing.

“You left me the good parts, right?” Pride asked, setting down the morningstar and starting over towards Virgil.

“I did,” Malice said, looking down at his fingernails.  “Remember to leave the face for Deceit and the Duke, though.  Are they coming or not?”

Virgil’s blood ran cold.  He was pretty sure he wasn’t going to have air to scream enough.

“Yeah, they’re coming,” Pride groaned, looking back over his shoulder.  “Why do they get to play with his face, they’ve never done this before!”

“Did you know the face is the most sensitive part of the body?” Positivity called.

“Did you want first dibs or not?” Malice asked, crossing his arms.

Pride grumbled something and flipped his knife around.  Virgil tensed and leaned backwards as he approached.  Pride flipped the knife around once in his hand and moved Virgil’s hoodie and shirt sleeve up along his arm before stabbing the now exposed skin of his forearm and twisting.

Virgil managed a scream.  He tried to let as much pain as possible come through.  Even if Malice or Positivity saw through his act, if they brought it up to Pride he was more likely to get defensive, so it was still probably the safest option.

He had no idea what he was going to do if Remus and Janus really did show up.  He probably wouldn’t have to fake anything at that point.

Pride’s grin when he managed to look him in the face again at least meant that Virgil was doing the first step right.  Pride kept going on the same arm for a while, which meant his screams were proving enough for him to be satisfied.

Eventually, though, Pride moved on to the torso, and Virgil was familiar enough with knife movements at this point to recognize that Pride was carving a word across it.  It was probably something stupid like his name.  Virgil found strength enough to scream and thrash for part of it, and whimper for the rest, but by the time Pride finished there, he was out of energy, and Pride must have been noticing, because he was standing back and looking at Virgil in irritation.

“What, is this not enough for you?” he snapped.  “You know I can do worse.”  He reached forward and grabbed Virgil’s chin, yanking it up towards his face.  Before Virgil could reply in any way, Pride moved the knife up under his eyes and started slicing, and suddenly Virgil had the energy to scream again.

That only lasted a couple seconds, though, before Malice came forward and yanked Pride backwards.  “What part about ‘leave the face for Deceit and the Duke’ did you not understand?!”

“He was being boring!” Pride complained.  “That’s a challenge, the rules change!”

“They absolutely do not.  Go stand back there, you’re waiting for the others now.”

Pride grit his teeth, but Malice was not one to mess with, and it seemed even he knew that, because he stormed back over to stand next to Positivity and started grumbling.

Virgil was under no illusions that Pride being benched would mean he got a break, and he was proven right when Malice picked up a knife.

Okay.  The safest thing here would be to keep up the illusion for Pride, lest he lose his only way out in the future.  So when Malice took his injured arm and started scratching at or stabbing at already open wounds, Virgil managed to shriek and trash enough that Pride would probably buy this being how he reacted to all torture.

But Malice’s torture session lasted less time, because after a minute or so the door slammed open again, and everyone turned around. Virgil maneuvered his head over towards the door as much as he could, and there was Remus.  Virgil stopped looking towards the door.  He would definitely start crying otherwise.

“Where’s Deceit?” Malice asked in annoyance, and there was another note to his voice that Virgil probably could have figured out if he was less exhausted or in pain.

“Thomas and the core sides are in Anxiety’s room,” Remus said.  There was a moment of silence as everyone seemed to collectively think they heard him wrong.

“What?” Virgil asked.  “Why?”

“Shut up,” Malice said, digging the knife in a little deeper where it was placed without looking back at him.  “What do you mean they’re in Anxiety’s room?”

“Deceit is looking for him.  He says they’re there.”

Janus was looking for him?  Wasn’t Janus on his way here to torture him or something?

“If Thomas is in Anxiety’s room and Anxiety doesn’t show up he’s going to get suspicious,” Pride remarked.

“I know that,” Malice snapped.  He pinched his fingers together on the bridge of his nose and glared back up at Remus.  “Go find Cruelty.  Get the idiot’s eyeshadow.”

“My what?” Virgil asked.

“I said shut up,” Malice snapped, twisting the knife enough that Virgil whimpered.  “Positivity, give me the first aid kit.”

Positivity bounced forward and pulled out a first aid kit that Virgil hadn’t noticed before.  Remus headed back out of the room as Malice started wrapping various cuts on his arm, probably ones that would otherwise bleed through his clothes.

Remus and Cruelty showed up a couple minutes later with his makeup kit, and Malice moved to press some of the gauze under his eyes for a moment before checking the wounds again.  They must have been dry enough, because he snatched the eyeshadow from the makeup kit and started applying more of it under his eyes.

“There,” Malice said, leaning back.  “Can you tell he’s hurt?”

“I don’t think so,” Positivity said brightly.  “And it’s not like he’s going to give it away, right?”  He directed that part at Virgil.

“No, he’s not,” Malice said, looking back at Virgil.  “You know what, I’ve actually grown far too tired of you heading off to hang out with the core sides all the time, so here’s what’s going to happen.”  He nudged Positivity, who must have gotten what he meant, because he waved his hand and the chains attached to Virgil vanished.  Virgil fell to the ground and stayed there for about half a second before Malice grabbed him by the arms and yanked him back upwards.

“You’re going to find an excuse to never go back there again.  Tell them… tell them you ducked out.”

“What does that even mean—”

“I don’t know, figure it out!” Malice screamed, and Virgil flinched hard backwards.  “You’re going to tell them that, and then you’re going to come back here, and we’re going to keep you here.”

“What—”

“Understand?”

“But—”

“Understand?” Malice said, digging his nails into a cut on Virgil’s arm.  Virgil nodded.

“Good.”  He yanked Virgil’s sleeve down and turned to shove him back towards the door to the mindscape.  “Now go on.”

Virgil sprinted from the room, or as close to sprinting as he could get with how badly his legs were shaking, and slowed down slightly outside to give himself time to breathe.  He could just appear in his room from anywhere, and it’s not like he was going to give Janus the pleasure of seeing him like this if that’s what he wanted so badly.

Breathe.  Come on, you can do this.  You do this all the time.  It’s not like Thomas is going to treat you any differently this time.  You know how this works.  Just go and get this done, you can have your breakdowns later.  Breathe.  Try getting angry.  That’s a good way to hide fear.

Virgil opened his eyes and took one last breath that he was impressed didn’t sound terribly shaky.

“Of course, it’s just like them to drag out a torture session by interrupting it,” Virgil muttered to himself.  “This is all their fault, right?”  He took another breath.  Yeah, he could try that for a little while.  There was at least one thing he really wanted to know either way.  He could start with that.

Virgil took a breath, sunk down, and reappeared in front of the core sides and Thomas.

“What are you doing in my room?”

Chapter Two

[flyinghome-againstthewind]

the best by far is you: chapter 5

Read on AO3

Previous Chapter

Summary: An exploration of Claire & Jamie’s story if their firstborn had lived and they had the chance to be parents together of wee Faith Fraser before the battle of Culloden.

Chapter 5

With January came the wet, hacking coughs that settled deep in the lungs, runny noses, and fevers that spread quickly through each Highland home. Lallybroch was not spared from this; however, Claire had been and, to her relief, so had Jenny. At eight months pregnant, Jenny had enough to contend with and she seemed to get by on sheer willpower alone. Jenny simply couldn’t afford to come down with a fever and her immune system seemed to quite agree.

The sickness swept through in waves, but when the children all came down with it, the nights dragged on longer than most. 

“His fever is very slight, Jenny, and we’ll keep an eye on him.” Wee Jamie was cradled in his mother’s overcrowded lap, curling his slight form around her round belly. Jenny held his head to her chest and dropped a kiss to his dark hair. With fourteen-month-old Maggie balanced on her hip, Claire reached for the goose grease that she had brought with her. “Open up his nightgown. I’m going to rub some of this on his chest. It’ll help him breathe better through the night.”

Jenny pulled at the neck of the gown and pushed the shirt off of one shoulder for Jamie while Claire scooped a bit of the goose grease onto her fingers and rubbed it onto the small boy’s chest. He sat lethargically while they administered this, but he began to whine when the smell hit him. Jenny began at once to comfort him in gentle, Gaelic words and Claire dropped a kiss to his cheek as she finished. “All done,” she told him. To Jenny, she smiled encouragingly. “Just keep them both hydrated‒ that is, make sure they’re getting plenty to drink. Either the tea I brought up or water. I’ll make sure Mrs. Crook has plenty of broth made up for tomorrow, too. And besides that, they just need their rest.” She looked to Maggie, resting her head placidly on Claire’s shoulder. But when she shifted her hold, Maggie clung to her with rousing ferocity, lest she try to put the girl down. 

“Och, Maggie, dinna throw a fit,” Jenny chided softly. She was in the process of shifting Jamie from her lap to the middle of the bed, where he would sleep for the night. Ian, one of the first to come down with the cold, was already asleep and absolutely useless to Jenny in his current fevered state. 

Her arms were free only for a moment before she was taking Maggie from Claire. “You too, mo chridhe.” Jenny murmured, tugging the baby’s nightgown out of the way for Claire. 

“There we go, big girl.” 

More clingy than anything else at the moment, Maggie took the goose grease better than her brother so long as someone held her. With her clean hand, Claire felt the girl’s forehead again. “I don’t even think she has a fever, but we’ll watch her, too.” She grabbed a clean cloth from the tray and wiped off her hand. She cocked her head at Jenny still sitting up on the side of the bed with one child squished in her lap against the very round presence of her bairn soon to come. How she made it all look effortless... 

The door opened suddenly and Jamie stood in the doorway, clad in his nightshirt and his tartan thrown around his shoulders. In one arm was Faith, her head peeking up from the tartan that had been wrapped around her too, so Claire was immediately struck by the matching heads of red hair waiting in the doorway. Hers, her heart sang. 

“You’re supposed to be resting” was how Claire greeted him. His gaze shifted from Claire to Jenny to the sick, fussy children and the lump of Ian under the covers before settling back on Claire. 

“Is everything alright?” She asked.  

“Aye.” Jamie managed to say before a spasm of coughing overtook him. He had turned his head away from Faith and coughed into his fist. As much as Claire would berate him for being out of bed, she felt a flush of pride that her instructions on not spreading a cough were sinking in with at least one person. “I just wasna sure where you disappeared to. Ye need anything?”   

Claire looked to Jenny before responding, her brows raised in silent questioning. 

“Go on,” Jenny said. “Take care of that clot-heid brother o’ mine.” Claire chuckled, her gaze swinging up to Jamie, who looked dead on his feet even as he offered his assistance. “I thank ye, Claire, for all yer help. We’ll be fine for the night.” 

“If you need anything, you let me know. Don’t overdo it. You are growing a whole ‘nother human in there.”  

She met Jamie in the doorway and turned with him to leave, settling into step next to him. She felt his arm ‒ and thus his tartan ‒ wrap around her shoulders, taking her under his wing like a baby bird. She studied his flushed face and bright eyes as they walked. Still fevered. “How do you feel?”

“I’ve felt worse.” His voice sounded strained, and he had to clear his throat after speaking.  

“Not exactly a ringing endorsement, either.” Her gaze shifted to her baby on Jamie’s opposite side. Glassy-eyed and with a nose running like a faucet, Faith wasn’t faring much better. Claire’s heart squeezed at the pitiful sight of her and, as much as she cared for every other member of this household, seeing signs that Faith had come down with the same virus made her feel like a failure for not being able to protect her from this. 

When their eyes met, the baby seemed to register her presence for the first time and suddenly Faith was reaching across Jamie for her, a tired cry slipping out from her. “Come here, little love.” Claire reached for her, aided in the transfer by Jamie. Faith’s little arms went around her neck immediately, tiny fingers grasping at Claire’s loose curls and taking hold. She pressed a firm kiss to the baby’s temple and sighed heavily. 

“I was making some tea for you downstairs before I ended up helping Jenny with the little ones,” she explained to Jamie when they reached the threshold of their room. “Get into bed, I’ll be back in a moment.” 

“Ye do like barking orders this evening, Sassenach,” he said with a slight twitch of his mouth.   

“You wouldn’t listen otherwise if I made it a mere suggestion,” she shot back lightly, stepping out from under his arm and missing the closeness it had afforded them. But she realized then how warm he was in contrast with the cool air of the hallway. She reached up to touch his forehead and the skin was burning under her cold fingers. He sighed and turned his head further into her hand. Sweet man. He must’ve been more miserable than he was letting on and he still came to check on her when she hadn’t returned. Or perhaps he’d wanted her and hadn’t been able to say it. “I’ll be right back,” she repeated, this time in promise, and reached out to caress his back when he turned away. 

When she did make it back up to their room, she found that Fergus had abandoned his pallet by the fire, crawled into bed next to Jamie, and fallen asleep. Her gaze met Jamie’s and they shared a smile over the dear sleeping boy. 

With Faith still on one hip, she handed Jamie a cup of tea. “Finish that, if you can, before you go to sleep.” 

He was propped up slightly against the headboard so he could drink it. “What about you, mo nighean donn?” 

She knew what he was asking and her gaze drifted to the baby in her arms. “She’s my last charge for the night. If she sleeps, I sleep.” 

Claire grabbed a clean handkerchief and tried to wipe Faith’s nose, which had begun to run again, but the baby turned her head away and howled. “I know. I’m sorry.” Claire managed on the second attempt to get most of it, but some snot smeared sideways onto the baby’s cheek. “I’m not trying to rub your poor little nose raw, I promise.” Faith still dodged the handkerchief, but Claire got the last of it. “There, all done.” 

She pressed a kiss to Faith’s forehead and rested her cheek there a moment longer, feeling no corresponding fever as the others had. She let out another sigh. Perhaps only a matter of time for poor Faith, or perhaps she would be spared from the worst of it. 

“Ye want me to try wi’ her?” Jamie croaked. She shot him a look, wondering if he realized how absolutely miserable he sounded just from his voice. As if on cue, he succumbed to another coughing fit. The last few days had been hell trying to get him to care for himself when so much of who he was revolved around caring for his family and trying to muddle through. The temptation to hand Faith over to Jamie was strong, knowing his warmth even when he wasn’t burning with fever would often soothe the girl to sleep. 

“Not this time.” She smiled appreciatively. “But thank you, love.”

An hour passed for Claire in the company of one stubborn, fussy, miserable little girl. When it came time for Faith’s night feeding and she settled into her arms to feed, Claire hoped there was something within her that could keep Faith strong and healthy; that there was some vital piece of immunity she could share with Faith to help defend her against anything that her immune system might battle. As Faith latched on, Claire studied her slight form in the dim candlelight. Her thumb traced over the shell of Faith’s ear, which still stuck out a little. Perhaps her ears always would, but it made Claire smile nonetheless to see the delicate point to Faith’s ears. She hoped her girl would grow up to love that part of herself, too, someday. 

Faith sniffled and squirmed restlessly, struggling to feed and breathe in comfort, and Claire looked around for the handkerchief, unsure of where she’d left it. This was no serene moment tonight. She swiped the handkerchief from the end table and wiped the baby’s nose again, knowing it didn’t do much to clear it out for her to breathe better, but at least it kept her clean and dry. “I’m so sorry you aren’t feeling well, lovey,” she murmured. “It won’t last. You’ll feel better soon.” 

Her thumb smoothed over the wrinkled brow of Faith’s scowl, trying to ease the tension from the baby’s face. It was only a bad cold ‒ Claire knew that. Still, it was one thing to know that cold viruses were a part of life and quite another thing entirely to watch the tiny one that she’d birthed succumb to it. And it wasn’t only this cold that weighed heavily on Claire but the knowledge of the immunizations that existed in her time that Faith wouldn’t have access to, wee fragile thing that she already was. The risks were so much higher here, but Claire would try her damndest to keep Faith safe and healthy with what knowledge she had of the spread of diseases and how to combat them. 

“Such lovely thoughts to have before bed, hmm?” She muttered to the baby, pulling Faith up onto her shoulder once she’d finished and let out a loud belch. She swayed slightly, her cheek pressed to Faith’s, and savored the seconds of calm before rising from her chair to attempt getting some sleep with her tired little one.         

She settled Faith on top of the covers with her own blanket and grabbed a spare pillow to wedge between Fergus and Faith so he wouldn’t roll over her in his sleep. They hadn’t slept four to a bed before and it was a tight fit, but Claire couldn’t bear to move Fergus from where he slept so soundly cuddled against Jamie. And Faith would scream if Claire tried to place her in her cot tonight, she just knew it. No, they all needed the comfort of each other in their current state.  

So she slipped under the covers and curled around the baby, acting more or less as a barrier from the edge of the bed. Fergus had rolled over from before and now faced her and the baby with his back snug against Jamie’s side. He breathed through his mouth on account of his stuffy nose.  

Claire tugged the blankets up higher about his shoulders and, as she had with everyone in this house, pressed her hand to his forehead, checking his temperature as best she could. He felt quite warm but not alarmingly so. That was good, Claire thought, studying the sweet face that was slack in his sleep. 

Who had cared for him before this when he got sick? Or wiped his nose when he was too small to do it himself? Claire swallowed roughly at the thought, knowing the hard truth was no one in particular. He passed through many hands at Maison Elise, but he had said himself that he never knew which, if any, of the girls there was his mother. Although Claire was unfathomably grateful that they had found him, the indignation that he should have gone so long without someone caring for him until Jamie brought him home would never be quelled for her. 

She smoothed a hand over his brown curls, wanting to give him comfort in some way for the years of hurt she couldn’t heal for him. He’d recently told them he turned ten years old. He told them a few days after the fact, like an afterthought, and they had scrambled to make a celebration of it for him. And Claire had mentally kicked herself for not even inquiring sooner about his birthday. He had been with them for almost a year now and she was only recently made aware that this boy’s birthday fell on New Year’s Day. 

A New Year’s baby. Shouldn’t his birth have brought with it all kinds of hope and promise for the future? 

He deserved not just a home, but a family. 

Her hand stilled where it rested on his head. 

“Mo nighean donn?” Jamie whispered suddenly, his gaze lingering with concern. She startled slightly, unaware of his watchful eye until just then.   

“Fergus…” She began, dropping her gaze to the sleeping boy in question before sliding back up to meet Jamie’s open, curious eyes. Perhaps it wasn’t the time for this, but Jamie was awake just now and she felt a certain boldness in talking with him in the dark. “He’s… ours, isn’t he? You feel that way, too, don’t you?” 

What she’d meant to say but couldn’t quite articulate was that her love for Faith had been immediate and all-consuming when she learned of the baby’s presence within her, adapting only in the way it naturally did when Faith was born and her child was real, a whole person to be loved for who she was and no longer an abstract nudge from within. Claire’s love for Fergus, however, had softly snuck up on her, growing steadily from their plotting work in Paris to these quiet days at Lallybroch. And yet, she had reached a point where the love of both of them became inextricable from who she was as a mother. Without her realizing it, Fergus had gone from Jamie’s wee pickpocketing shadow to simply… theirs. 

“Aye,” Jamie whispered at once and Claire released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Aye, I do. He is.” 

His hand reached for hers, their fingers meeting on the pillow just above the boy’s head. 

“I canna say when it changed.” Jamie’s voice rumbled in the dark. 

“No, I can’t say either,” Claire agreed. “But it did.” 

“Aye.” 

Claire’s thumb stroked the back of Jamie’s hand gently and the warmth of him could be felt even in that slight touch. “Sleep, if you can.” She pulled their entwined fingers to her and kissed his knuckles. “You need your rest.” 

“You too,” he said, his voice gravelly from his cold and weariness. “You’ll wear yerself out, mo nighean donn, if ye dinna take yer own rest.” 

She sighed, acknowledging the truth of his words. “I will,” she agreed. “If these little ones let me.” Her gaze dropped to Faith, who wasn’t fussing for the time being. Still, Claire couldn’t seem to put to rest the part of her that needed to watch Faith breathe just to know she still could. Her fingers untangled from Jamie’s and her hand came to rest on Faith’s tummy, feeling her steady breaths under her palm. Claire’s eyes slid shut and she sighed.  

It was a cold, brisk evening in February when the third Murray child decided to make their entrance into the world. Jamie was sent to town to fetch the midwife, a task that he took with grave seriousness and no short amount of hastening. So it was quite a shock for him to enter Lallybroch with Mrs. Martins, the midwife, and be greeted by a frazzled Claire bearing the news that he had a new niece. 

“You canna be serious.” 

But Claire still donned an apron that bore the messy evidence to her story and her face, which never could lie to him, spoke volumes of the whirlwind hour she’d just experienced. “You can go upstairs and see for yourself if you don’t believe me.” 

As if roused by the conversation, the loud squall of a newborn drifted down to them. Mrs. Martins made a loud harrumph and turned back to the wagon, not bothering to come all the way in. 

“Is she serious?” Claire whispered furiously in her wake and that was enough to break the nervous tension in the room. Jamie let out a surprised bark of a laugh and when he’d caught his breath, he shook his head in disbelief. 

“And Jenny and the bairn are fine?” He checked. 

“They’re absolutely perfect. Ian is with them now.” Claire assured him. She noticed then that her apron was still on and began to remove it. “Baby was just ready, I guess. I’ve never seen labor progress that fast before.” Jamie held out his hand to her and she took it, letting him pull her to his side and gently kiss her forehead. She felt the tension in his body ebbing away as her news sunk in. 

“Thank you, mo ghraidh.” 

“I really didn’t do much this time. Just caught the baby. Jenny hardly even had to push!” Claire squeezed him around his middle. “I think the adrenaline is finally wearing off for me.” 

“The what?” He blanched at her. She was in fine form just now, thrumming with energy and talking breathlessly. 

“Nevermind.” She rose up on her tiptoes and kissed him. “Should we go meet our newest niece?” 

“Lead the way, Sassenach.”

“Wait.” She froze. “Mrs. Martins!” 

“Ah Christ,” Jamie muttered under his breath. “I’ll send Rabbie wi’ her now to drive the wagon back.” He broke away from her then, moving toward the door to the courtyard, and all the while he shook his head.

Late that night, lying in bed together after a rather celebratory round of lovemaking, Claire rested her head on Jamie’s chest and dosed contently. Jamie’s fingers played with Claire’s curls and she felt only the bliss of that moment with him. “Sassenach, how does it work after…” He pattered off, seeming to still be working out the question in his mind. 

“How does what work after what?” Claire asked, her eyes still closed. 

“After a bairn, when do your courses start again?” She looked up to find him staring up at the ceiling, his brows furrowed together in puzzlement. “Ye’ve not had yers since Faith, but Kitty would’ve been conceived when Maggie was only six months of age. And Ian said he tried to avoid getting Jenny with child so soon after Maggie, but ye’ve never…” This time, he did meet her gaze, a wry smile in place. “Well, ye’ve never made me sleep elsewhere, Sassenach. And wi’out yer courses, how will we ken when ye might be able to carry another bairn?” 

Claire breathed in deep and rested her chin on his chest, staring up at his beautiful, puzzled face. “I’m not quite sure. I think it varies, but I know when a woman breastfeeds, that often will delay her courses.” Her fingers traced his jaw and she smiled at the small sigh this drew from him. “Nature’s way of giving women a break, I suppose.” She laughed. Jamie exhaled a soft laugh, too.

“Aye, I suppose. Though it didna work too well for Jenny and she’s not the first woman I’ve known to have bairns within a year of each other.”

“Yes, well, as I said, it varies.”   

She was surprised to feel an ache for another baby after holding Katherine in her arms tonight. Faith was still so young, still a baby herself, and Claire didn’t really want another one right away but… someday.   

“Is it possible to get ye with child before your first course would start?” Jamie asked suddenly, still turning over the workings of the female reproductive system in his mind.

“I… yes, actually. I think that would be possible.” She quirked a brow at him. “You are something of a marvel, James Fraser.” 

He returned her look of astonishment. “Because I ken how to have a bairn? I’ll remind ye, Sassenach, that we’ve already succeeded there once and it was no’ by accident or ignorance.”

She smiled wryly. “No, more than that. Because you want to know how my body works. You need to know. I doubt many husbands care to know the details, especially around their wives’ courses.”  

He hummed. “I happen to find your body to be a verra…” His hand snaked down from where it had rested on her lower back. “Interesting. Subject.” He punctuated each word with a smack to her ass, causing her to jump, and then kneaded the flesh. “God ye have such a round arse,” he said, as if she’d somehow sidetracked him from their conversation with it. 

She stretched herself upwards so she could capture his mouth with her own. “What do you say we explore this subject a little further tonight, then?” 

“Ye dinna need to ask me twice.” 

[pinkykitten]

promise me - part 3

2845: EXILE

synopsis: It’s the year 2845. A year where Earth is in shambles and space is the new frontier. You are sent along with other cadets to a distress call about some type of unknown creature. You are new as an engineer on the ship Shiganshina and you have to work for your boss and leader of your group Levi Ackerman. But remember, in space no one can hear you scream.

pairing: levi ackerman x female! reader words: 3,068 genre:  violence, gore, romance, fluff, space au, series, future au

a/n: im actually rlly proud of this chapter. now its when the door starts opening up and new secrets are revealed and even more questions arise. ty all who have given support and love to my writing and this series. i work rlly hard on this so it makes so happy to see u guys love this. tysm. 

The feeling of being useless was horrible. There laid Gunther’s lifeless body-leaning against the blood soaked wall. The hallway was once sparking with violence and fighting it felt so hollow to you and so quiet. 

“Oh my God.” You gasped, covering your mouth with your hand. “I can’t believe this happened.”

The tips of Gunter’s fingers were turning blue and his hands were as cold as ice as you held onto it tightly. 

“Y/N,” Levi coughed out raspy. “Y/N.”

You wiped your tears away and slid towards Levi. You looked at his face then saw his wound. There was a orange size burn-from the saliva of the alien-that was red and a rash. It was splayed across his ankle and was oozing.

“You’re going to be alright. How bad does it hurt?”

“Not that bad,” he winced. You could tell he was holding it in. He was trying to be strong for the mission. 

You rummaged through the first aid kit. In there was a bottle of pain pills, Band-Aids, and a cream to help with bacteria and burns. “Take some of these,” you popped the pills in his mouth. “This should help with the ache.” You splattered some cream onto your hand and evenly spread it on the burn. Levi barely moved a muscle. His strength was truly evident. You wrapped his ankle with some gauze and your gaze met his. Your heart became still. His features were handsome to his thick, black, long eyelashes to his soft looking lips. 

You shook your head, tearing the day dreams away from your mind. “You think you can stand?”

“I think so.” Levi gripped the wall as he pushed himself up. He stood up and took one step, leading him slipping to the ground. 

You caught him in your arms and guided his arm atop your shoulders. “I got you,” you smiled small. “Let’s try to get to shelter and take a breather.”

You didn’t know what was next. What the plan was. All you worried about was now but the thought of how you were going to survive replayed. You saw many outcomes of you dying and everything seemed impossible. To everyone you portrayed this know it all, knowing every step you took but in reality you were a lost soul. 

Turning a corner was a double bed room for the workers. “Sit here.” Levi laid back in the bottom bunk bed. Pain evident, slightly, on his features. In quick motions you gathered items around the room to place in front of the door, barricading it in case any monsters tried to get through. “I think we’re good.” Sweat dripped down your neck. 

You sat opposite from Levi on the other bottom bunk. You noticed Levi sweating as well, his face red. Touching his forehead, you realized he was burning up. “Not good,” you told yourself more than him. Grabbing a glass of water you led him to drink water, hoping that would help. “I’m in fear the venom is getting in through the skin to your blood.” You tapped your lip in thought.

“Great,” Levi scoffed. 

“What do you mean?”

Levi sat up. “I need you to promise me something Y/N. If I don’t make it, finish the mission and save those that need help.”

You sat in front of him and grabbed his cold hands. “You’re not dying. I’m not letting you.” The thought made your lips tremble as your e/c eyes became glassy.

“Just promise me,” Levi’s calloused hands rose to your cheeks, wiping your scared tears that escaped your captivity of your eyes. “Please Y/N. I need you to be okay?”

“...Okay,” you breathed out. 

“I know you’re scared but I don’t think you know how capable you are. You are made of greatness Y/N. You can do this, with or without me.” Levi laid back and tried to get some sleep. 

You walked to the window showing space. A vast area that sometimes is made up of unknown. Scared was an understatement. You didn’t know what that ‘thing’ was, where it had come from and why was it here? There were so many missing pieces to the puzzle. 

You couldn’t help but want to discover more to this mystery and you couldn’t just sit there and do nothing while your friend laid there dying. If this monster was on Marley and it was going to show its face more often you needed tools. You couldn’t bare being defenseless against that thing. “I’m coming back Levi,” you saluted to him. “I promise, just be patient.”

You checked the map of the ship and noticed the weapons room was far north away. It was on the opposite of the ship. “Are you kidding me?” 

As you raced to your destination you saw all the damage that was on Marley. So many wires were pulled and sparks exploded, scaring you. The thought came up of what if you hadn’t had taken this job? Would you still be in your garage being a mechanic? There was some sneaky stuff happening and some things didn’t feel right? Then you thought of Annie and the fear she must be feeling. What if she was dead? You had to know, you had to see if! 

Finally you had made it to the warehouse but the gate was locked. “Hmmm? Maybe there’s an issue with the power?” You checked the computer system nearby and saw all the power was made to keep the vents open. It was either the vents or this gate. “I’m going to close the vents.” You locked in the correct kep numbers. The gate opened wide and you stealthily walked in to not grab attention. 

You took a step and a loud bang was heard across the room. Your pulse quickened and your mouth became dry. You tore up boxes and compartments and they were empty except one at the very end. There was no cover there so if the alien was with you it would see you. ‘I have to be quick,’ you thought.

You rolled to that area and looked to find a motion detector, a flamethrower and items to make a molotov. Now you felt more confident. “Finally,” you got set on making the molotov. But you didn’t feel the presence behind of the alien growing tall and hovering behind you. It roared loud, baring its teeth. 

You turned back and screamed, dropping the weapons. You were going to crawl away when a shot ringed your ears. You looked up to see a wounded Levi shooting at the alien. 

“Levi?!? What are you doing?” 

“Just run! I got it!” Levi repeatedly shot at the monster, calling it to him. “Yeah, come this way.”

You quickly grabbed the weapons and ran to the vents to jump in it. “Cuss!” The latch was locked in order to get in the vents. You then remembered you closed the vents which means the alien was in here with you the whole time. “Levi the vents are closed! I gotta go back to the systems and open it up! You keep him distracted!”

“Isn’t that what I’m doing?!?” Levi was up against this huge creature. 

Running with all your might back to the computers you typed in that the gate would shut and the vents would open. Levi was still stuck in the warehouse. “Levi get out of there!” You had your hand out. 

Levi ran backwards shooting vigorously at the monster. “Close it! Close it!”

You punched in the numbers and Levi ran past the gate, it was a hair away from closing on him. It instead closed on the alien. The alien was caught in between. His hands were trying to bust the gate open. 

“Climb! Climb!” You ushered Levi to get up the ladder to get to the vent. Levi climbed up and offered his hand to you. You took it climbing and the alien grabbed onto your legs, pulling you. You tried and you tried with all your might. Veins protruding and teeth clenching. With a roar you and Levi pulled away from the alien and climbed in the vents. They were tiny and cramped. 

You both walked on your hands and knees to get through. 

“If we take two rights and 4 lefts then we should be at the room we were at.” You recalled from the map. 

“What the cuss was that?”

You shrugged, “I needed to get items.”

“Yeah, you could of died.”

“You just told me I could do this without you and now you don’t want me to. Which is it Levi? Because I’m getting very confused!”

Levi shook his head, “Yes, I remember what I said but you idiot but you don’t have any weapons. What would you have done if I wasn’t there?”

“Fought the best I could. I know I can do this. You don’t have to worry so much.”

Levi scoffed and led the way.

You sighed, “you’re right. I should of had some type of weapon, that was dumb. But I got a ton. Now we can defiantly use these against him.”

“What did you get?”

You showed him all that you had found. “Pretty neat huh. We get to use these bad boys on that son of a cuss.”

Levi couldn’t help but smile at how brave you were and ruffled your head, “just, please be careful next time. Okay?”

Finally, you and Levi made it to the end of the vent. Jumping out and now creating a new plan to exterminate the alien. 

The fuzziness of the voice on the intercom blared loudly. Who was still alive? It took a second for someone to speak. “Is that Annie?” Your ears were open. 

“Levi and Y/N, it’s Reiner... if you’re still alive please, meet up with me at the control base. I, I need to show you two something. ASAP!” Then it shut off like it never was turned on in the first place. 

“What if- what if something is wrong? Maybe he found Annie?”

“Or killed that thing,” Levi suggested. 

Making to the control base wasn’t easy. You had to be on the look out for the alien. Any sound you made came with gut wrenching fear. At one point you were even certain that your heart pounding would be too loud and it would hear you. Every moment spent alive was a miracle. 

There was a large wall of glass separating you both from Reiner. Unknowing you were present, he was facing the glass, sitting on a chair, focusing on the computers. He seemed not stressed at all. You would think because his friend and fellow ship mate was taken or dead that he would be more on his toes but he seemed not worried about a thing. Maybe he didn’t really like to show emotion. It was true that being emotional at the moment there was no time. Your eyes traveled up to see his back was facing a huge vent. 

“He’s really stupid isn’t he?” Levi knocked on the glass to get Reiner’s attention. 

Reiner ushered you both over. 

“Any news?” Reiner and you said in unison. 

“You first,” Reiner said. 

“Well,” you threw all your weapons on the counter top near the computers set up. “We went to the weapon base and contained all these! We didn’t realize the moment we stepped on Marley that we were gonna need such heavy equipment.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Reiner stood up and faced away from the two of you, as if he was disappointed in himself. “I know you all have many questions.”

“That’s an understatement,” Levi sat, annoyed. “Why did you bring us here Reiner? It seems like you want to get something off your chest.”

Reiner turned around, seeming so stoic. “I want to tell you two how this thing got on here.”

It was the question you were thinking about the whole time you were here.“Yeah, what did you mean that it started with Ymir? Who’s Ymir?”

“Ymir was one of our ship mates. See when we first were dispatched on this mission we were told that we were going to different planets to find life. We went to what we named planet 13. Me, Annie, my friend Bertholdt and Ymir went and it seemed fine at first but then we found some...eggs.”

“Eggs?” Levi questioned. 

“Eggs. I was taking some samples when I heard a scream and Ymir had touch one of the eggs. It was on her face and we took her to the medical bay to get her back to her health. But we didn’t know that she would never get better and as I was running tests on her the thing came out of her chest. It was, so confusing. We didn’t know what to do. It escaped and that’s where we’re at now.”

You were shocked. “Now I have more questions than answers.”

“Cuss,” Levi muttered under his breath, not knowing what other move to make. 

“We need to learn more about this creature, do you happen to know Reiner if this is the only one or are there more on here?”

“The one-” Reiner was starting but then the computers started beeping. 

“What’s that?” Levi pointed to the map on the screen. “What are those ripples and dots?”

Reiner sprinted to the chair and checked the monitor, “cuss. It’s another shower, it’s gonna be longer and much stronger than the last one.”

“What do we do?” Your balance is thrown off when one or a few meteorites hits Marley. The ship starts beeping, alarming guests. “What happened?”

“It’s made a huge hole.”

“Where?” Levi looked at the model on the computer screen. 

Reiner pointed to the head of ship. “We need to fix it quick or else it will ruin the whole ship.”

“I got this.” Levi grabbed a few of the weapons and was about to exit but fell due to his injuries. 

“Levi!” You ran to his aid and lifted his trousers. It was starting to look infected and you could tell it was affecting him because his lips were turning white and he had more bags under his eyes. “You’re not well.”

“I’m fine,” Levi tried getting up but fell in your arms. 

“You’re not going anywhere. You will stay here and wait for me. I’ll patch up the hole.” You took the weapons away from Levi. 

“No Y/N!”

“Are you sure Y/N? It could be dangerous.” Reiner said. 

You rolled your eyes, “Just watch the cussed thing.” You grabbed a walkie-talkie and threw one at Reiner. “Keep me updated please.”

“The same to you.”

You ran to the head of the ship, using your motion detector to make sure the alien wasn’t near you. It was odd how it wasn’t busy like it usually was. Something was wrong. 

‘Is this thing broken?’ You asked yourself as you smacked the machine. “Ok, Reiner, where is the hole?”

“You’re near it. You have to make 3 lefts and it’s by the electric pad made for that area.”

“Alright,” you whispered and all of a sudden a loud bang was heard nearby. You quickly built a molotov and held your flamethrower in front of your chest, pointing it forward. You hated this playing game. If it was going to hunt you down, you were ready to face it. But nonetheless you moved on stealthily. The wooshing of the air leaving and space pulling everything out notified you that the hole was there. “I see the hole!”

Reiner continued talking while your motion detector started to beep rapidly. Your face turned into horror and something pulled you towards them. You screamed loud and could hear Reiner and Levi on the other end. 

“Y/N? Y/N!”

You looked behind and saw it was the alien dragging you towards the hole. You kicked it in the eye and went to get your flamethrower but you realized it had fallen when you were dragged and it was on the floor far away. 

“Come on!” You were in survival mode as you kept kicking with all your might. You got a good blow as you kicked it in the throat. You crawled to the flamethrower and as the alien was about to pounce on you, you produced flames, almost killing it. 

“Yeah, get back!”

It was now trapped. You held the trigger of the flamethrower as long as you could, backing it up more and more to the hole. You were going to kick it out. 

The space was pulling and you had to hold onto a medal bar attached the wall. Because of the strength the bar was slipping and almost detached. The alien tried to hold onto that as well but instead held onto your leg. You pointed the flamethrower at it and it ended up losing fuel. The alien smiled wide and crawled up your leg, now face to face with you. 

“No!” 

The alien tried to stab you with its claws but you punched its hands away, getting bruised. It brought it’s tail up and was about to stab your stomach, when you pulled, with all your strength, the metal bar that was attached to the wall, that you were holding onto. Nothing was holding you back from being sucked out into space. You were willing to risk your life to kill this thing. You lifted the bar high in the air and struck it repeatedly on his face. You both were falling, almost reaching the blackness and stars. When you pulled from your pocket a made molotov and threw it at it. It shrieked and exploded as it got sucked out. 

You were almost getting sucked out when you held onto a corner of the wall and grabbed a piece of metal and shucked it to the hole, covering it. You fell to the floor and went to screw that piece of metal to that hole. You smiled, proud of yourself. You killed the alien and patched up the hole. 

“I did it guys! I’m alright!”

There was no answer from them, just only static. 

Your lips quivered as you didn’t think of nobody else except Levi. 

As you walked upon the control base, it looked like a disaster. All the computers were thrown off and everything was moved, misplaced, and just thrashed every where. What’s worse there was no signs of Reiner or Levi anywhere.

a/n: no levi!!! hehehe im so bad lol. i feel so bad w levi in the manga as of recently with everything that has happened to him he just has no emotions like even less now and he just doesn’t care. its like everything has been ripped away from him so poor levi, ive rlly given up on every other character as well lol in the manga except levi. i also am not a fan i know shoot me lol of annie and armin idk not rlly into it. 

[mila-dans]

Happy Horror Awaits: Visit to a Small Planet

Chapter one of “Happy Horror Awaits.”

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word Count: 2787

Summary: Doing it alone is your life motto, especially when it comes to hunting. Sure it may be dangerous and sure the Winchesters might not like it but you do. Or that is at least until a certain change of events lead you to believe maybe being alone isn’t the best option.

Just So You Know: This is only my second fanfiction series so please let me know how I’m doing! Any comments, words of wisdom, or constructive criticism you have, be sure to send my way. The chapters will vary in length but do know, cliff hangers and twists are my specialty! (Gif credit to the amazing: @jarpadandjensens​ )

Deep breaths. Deep calming breaths, Y/n.

You slowly gain consciousness as you awake out of your dream.

Sweet, sweet dreams. Wouldn’t I kill for just about five more minutes? I never get good sleep. At least not in my time being alive. And that’s been a while.

You start to turn your face as you grip onto the pillow even more. As you start to adjust yourself even more, you feel something. Something on you.

Hm? What the--

You open your eyes under the comforter to see a silk lavender nightgown that you, apparently, are in.

Wh--What? What is this?

You then realize that your hands were on a comforter. A big, white, fluffy comforter. Never in your life have you ever had an actual comforter. You shut your eyes believing that you were still in a dream.

Okay. Okay, Y/n. This is the universe's way of saying, “Go back to sleep You’re still dreaming.” We don’t want to ignore the universe, do we?

You then stuff your face in a soft and luxurious pillow that, once again, you have never had before, and return back to glorious unconsciousness.

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

Sweet, sweet, dreams…

You take your hand up to your bloodied and bruised face as you walk away from the fire.

Okay… So not, sweet, dreams…

You can feel your heartbeat race as the sirens start to sound. Really? You thought to yourself. This is what I get for killing the damn monster. A broken nose and having to run away from cops. This is what tended to happen.

Hunting was a full time job. Meaning, hunting was your life and who you are. This work was no piece of cake either. Take this case for example: A simple haunting, average poltergeist. Or so you thought. Instead it was a difficult poltergeist and a ghoul that was living in the attic. Fun times. After you handled the bone muncher, Casper decided to drop in. Actually, drop in. As in drop into the body of the mailman and have him come after you. Lots of paper cuts. Realizing that the situation was the fact that the ghoul killed several people in the attic, most of which became one big collective poltergeist, the only clear option was to burn the house down. Mailman out of harm's way of course. Up in flames she went. Thankfully, it was being remodeled and unoccupied at the moment. Burn ugly grandma wallpaper, burn.

You headed down the block before the cops saw you commit the arson. You found a little shed back behind a house and stayed inside until the literal smoke cleared. Taking some supplies from a nice little first aid kit, you were able to fix the appearance of your ever so damaged face. With an hour passed, you found your cue to leave the shack and head for the hills.

You decided to take a ride in a silver Subaru as you headed back to the bunker. Boys are gonna be pissed. You knew it. You knew that they would hate the fact that you ran off again. Especially Sam For some reason, he always seemed to be more agitated by your disappearing-solo act. They don’t understand that you like to work alone. Always have, always will. True. Especially the “always have” part. The boys are brothers so they’ve had each other. Even Cas has a whole family tree that he only knows some of. None of them knew what it was like to be alone. Not like you did. You, the ever so vivacious and fun-loving you, were deemed unadoptable at a very early age. Too hot to handle. You told yourself. No family for you. No friends either. After seeing your Aunt Iris get slaughtered by an invisible force, let’s just say no one could top that story at share time. Couldn’t believe it either. No one ever believed. Luckily, one day, at eighteen years of age, you escaped from that hellhole that you were forced to call home, and sought off to find out where Aunt Iris hid her millions and why she just so happened to die ten years later after she acquired it. And a hunting we delve.

You parked the car half a mile back from the bunker and left a little note on the dash saying, “Oops. Thought it was mine. ;) ” You had always wondered what the faces looked like when they read your notes. I mean, I already stole the car, why not try and steal their hearts too? And some people say that you use humor as a defense mechanism. The only people who ever really saw through your charade were the one and only: Winchesters.

You opened the bunker door and quickly walked down the stairs. Good. No one was sitting in the library or war room. All clear. You then headed to your room, hoping that no parents noticed your previous lack of presence. It's only been three days since I’ve been gone. You assure yourself. You move past Dean’s room and very quietly, try to sneak past Sam's. You take a deep breath as you steadily crack open your door. Phew. You turn around, prepared to jump in the comfort of your not so perfect, perfect bed. Home sweet ho--

“Where the hell have you been?!” You hear a low and angry tone from the chair behind the door. You take a big sigh. So close. You think as you still continue to jump in your bed. “Really? Y/n? Not gonna answer me?” The voice continues to speak with an annoyed tone.

“Well, what do you want me to say? You’re smart enough to know that I was off hunting. Why should I hide it?” You stuff your face into the pillow as you hear the voice stand up and pull your body down towards the foot of the bed. “Really, Sam?” You say as you turn around to face the Winchester.

“Yes, really!” Sam crosses his arms and you just fall back on the mattress. “When are you gonna learn that you shouldn’t go out on hunts alone! You could get hurt and from the looks of it--”

“--I already have!” You continue. “Yeah, Sam, so what? I got hurt so what are you gonna do? Cause you can’t stop me from going out again. You never have been able to in the first place.” You give a sarcastic smile in his direction which gets met by his classic bitch face. “Listen Sam, I--”

“--No! You listen, you have been gone for days!”

“Three! Only three days, Sam! It’s not even a big deal.”

“Three? No, Y/n. How about you try five? Five days you have been gone without leaving a single trace as to if you were okay or where you were going!” Sam takes a seat in the chair.

“Sam,” you say with a stern tone, “I’m not gonna fight you about this again. I don’t need you to protect me. When you met me, you invited me to come with you and help. I did. I do! I’m still here whenever you need me!”

“But you continue to go off and leave without saying anything to anyone! Like where were you this time?! Cuba?! Canada?!” Sam says with a sarcastic tone.

“Haha,” you mock as you roll your eyes. Sam stands up from the chair.

“Seriously though, Y/n. How the hell am I supposed to keep track of you? How do I know if you’re okay or not?!”

“You don’t have to know! No one is asking you to! I am great by myself!” Sam looks at the cut on your face and you shrug it off.

“Y/n, I’m tired of you going out and hunting by yourself. You could get killed! There is a reason me and Dean hunt together. Strength in numbers!” Sam retaliates.

“Well, Sam, I don’t have a Dean. I don’t have someone that’s what like you two are to each other. I never have. I go at it alone and I like it that way!” You army crawl back up to the pillows. Sam once again pulls you by your feet back down to the bottom of the bed. “Would you just--Gah!” You sit back up.

“Who do you think we are, Y/n? The bunker residents? You think we just do our thing and let you do yours? No! We help each other out. We’re a team. A family! Why can't you get it through that thick skull of yours?!” Sam throws his hands up in the air. Thick skull? Thick skull?! You stand up and go towards Sam.

“I do not have a thick skull! You do!” You stand on your tiptoes as you try to meet his eyeline. “Listen to me Sam Winchester,” you raise your voice and cause Sam to start to back up as you press your pointer finger into him, “I do what I want, when I want! And I never will ask for your permission because it is useless! You gave me a roof and a room just over a year ago and I am grateful for that, I really am. But I don’t need to stamp a time card whenever I decide to kill a vamp or go for a joy ride!” You turn back around and back towards the bed, trying to get a handle on your frustration.

“Then why the hell did you move in?” You hear Sam say, starting to regain his composure. “Why are you here if you’re never here?” Sam moves closer to you, seemingly looking for a real answer instead of your usual quick witted one.

“I like to be alone. That’s the way it's always been!” You answer. Sam runs his fingers through his hair.

“Then why don’t you just leave then?! Clearly, Y/n, yourself, and you can’t stand it here. And you also believe for some reason that I--that me and Dean and Cas are just nothing to you. So tell me, what’s stopping you from leaving? Huh? What’s stopping you from just walking out the door right now?!” Sam gives you a look that seems to be unreadable. You stare at him for a moment. Only one thought comes to your mind and it's been your natural response for all your life.

“My cue,” you respond. You stand up and grab your go bag as Sam stands like a statue, loss for words. You pause before leaving and put your hand on his shoulder. “The show’s over.” You pat his back as you walk out from your room. “So long, Sam.” You walk down the halls as a sleepy Dean goes after you.

“Hey!” Dean calls out. “Y/n! Where are you going? Where have you been?!” Dean catches up with you in the war room. He reaches for your arm and holds you back. He gives you a confused look as he sees the faint bit of water in your eyes. “Y/n,” he says softly, “Look, whatever Sam said, he--”

“--He said that I should probably leave, Dean. So that’s just what I’m gonna do. One last order from Sam Winchester.” You knock Deans hand away and head up the stairs.

“Come on! Y/n! Don’t go!” Dean shouts. Sam joins the party and watches as you open the door.

“Y/n, I l--”

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

Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...hhhh...h… Stupid, stupid, dreams.

“Momma!” A voice says.

“Mommy!” A different voice says.

Huh? Wha… what?

“Momma!” The voice says again.

Okay...um...what?!

You rub your eyes as you feel something hitting your back and what sounds like children, calling for their mom. You just take a deep breath and wipe the slobber from your lips.

“Hey,” a deep and familiar voice says, “Come on guys, give your mom a break.”

Hm?

You slowly begin to open your eyes as much as they are willing to when a bright light surrounds the environment. The beating on your back continues.

“Guys! What did I just say?” The deep voice asks. “I said, give her a break. Not to break her!”

A sudden laughter erupts from what sounds like children and the familiar voice.

“No!” The children shout, trying to hold in their excitement. “No daddy!”

“Dadda!” A little girl’s voice calls out followed by a little squeal.

Wha?

Your eyes adjust to the similar sight that you saw earlier: a white comforter. The sun coming from a big window causes the comforter to seem much brighter than you deem necessary. You notice the window and a white wall.

Why so much white?

There appears to be some picture that you can barely make out hanging next to the curtains. There is also a nightstand by the side of the bed that you are on with an assortment of goods. A coffee cup with “Y/n” written on it. Some green books about green things. A little potted plant. A rose gold watch. And an alarm clock that reads, “8:34 A.M.” You look in the bottom corner and it says, “Tuesday. February, 28th.”

No. No, no, no, no. Nope. No. Nu-uh. It is Monday. I hate Mondays, but I know for sure that it is indeed a Monday.

You start to focus your attention back on the noises and motions that you feel on the, extremely, soft, bed. The little hits on your back have stopped but the laughter continues. As does some motion on the surface.

“Dadda! Momma!” A child, as you’ve determined, calls out.

“Shh,” the familiar voice replies, “Let her sleep, jellybean.” The motion on the bed shifts back onto you. You feel a creature crawl up on your back and pull down the covers. You shut your eyes praying to God himself that this was all just some dream. The small creature makes its way up to your head and puts its small hands on your face. You feel what you think is a toddler’s hands on your cheeks.

“Momma,” the child whispers. “Momma!” The little girl again whispers. Her hands go all over your face and to your eyes. She brings her tiny fingers to your eyelids and slowly opens them. You stare at the little girl. She appears to have hazel, hooded eyes, light brown hair and the smallest set of teeth that you have ever seen. She must be about two years old. “Momma,” she speaks again. She smiles at you and brings her hands to your forehead as she kisses it.

Uh--U--Wha--Huh--What?

She continues to smile at you until a big hand scoops her up and takes her behind you.

Okay. Okay. Jus--just stay calm. This has just got to be a dream. I mean, what else could it be? I didn’t get drunk last night. Right? Wait, did I? Wh--what? Why can’t I remember?

“Alright guys,” the familiar voice says, “Let Momma wake up on her own.”

“But Daddy!” The other child complains.

“No ‘but!’ Just go downstairs.” The children huff but you hear their feet scamper off. “Jack, keep an eye on Charlie!”

Jack? Charlie?! What?!

You remain in your still as you feel the child scooping hand rub your shoulders and back.

This is a dream. This is a dream.

The hand makes its way up to your arm. You feel a big body move closer to you. Your heartbeat rises as you become very aware of the fact that you are only in a nightgown and can feel that whoever this man was, he was muscular and shirtless. He moved his fingers to your hair and slowly brushed it away from your neck.

Um…

He leaned his head down just a bit as he kissed your neck, leaving no part untouched by his extremely soft lips. “Good morning, Baby,” he whispered in your ear. You practically forgot to breathe as he started to kiss your cheeks.

Um… Wh--What? No, seriously, what the hell?!

You decided that now was the time to face whatever dream or planet or reality that you were in. You turned your head ever so slightly as the man’s lips perfectly hit your own. You closed your eyes as the man continued to kiss you and you, unwilling to take the situation for granted, kissed him back.

Oh, wow… That was um…

You took a peak at the mystery man as your eyes grew ten times bigger. Smiling down at you, with the sun glowing on his face and eyes sparking hazel-green, he pressed his lips into yours once more. This time, you didn’t reciprocate. “Uh,” you started to mumble as he gave you a confused look. “Um…”

“What is it, Y/n?” You stared at him in shock. “Baby?” You rub your eyes again at the startling sight.

“Uh, Sam?”

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Next chapter out shortly!

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Let me know your thought and theories! Thank you for reading. Hope you enjoyed!

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@swallow-carrying-a-coconut​ @sl33pybo1​

[bucketslutz]

Get Out the Way

Chapter 2: You're a bounty hunter, start acting like it

Summary: You were successful as a bounty hunter for a while, and now as a skilled fighter working in an arena. You were craving excitement, until a Mandalorian crosses your path and offers you the opportunity to help bring his kid back and avenge the death of someone you lost long ago. Working with the bucket-head, though, isn't going as smoothly as you thought. Will it all be worth it in the end?

You can read Get Out the Way on AO3 here.

Warnings: 18+ only pls, violence, gore, language, bounty hunting, enemies to lovers sorta, slow burn af, banter, grogu in danger, AFAB reader, badass female reader, yes reader is a bounty hunter, smut eventually but for now they hate each other

Chapter Summary: Mando and Reader continue on their journey to obtain the child.

This had to have been the worst fucking idea you’ve ever had in your life, and you’ve done some pretty dumb shit. Metal head went out of his way to ask for your help, and won’t even let you do anything. Flight check? No, you’re “not the co-pilot.” Hyperspace coordinates? Nope, “I didn’t hire you to punch in numbers.” Recalibrate the distributors? “I don’t need your help.” Well, for someone who was very eager to get your help on this mission, he really hates letting you help with virtually anything. You feel useless. You’ve scrubbed your blasters at least four times since entering hyperspace. You don’t think they were even this shiny when you bought them. No amount of credits in the republic could be worth this. Maker, you’ve not even left hyperspace and you’re already wanting to wring out his neck. He’s always so unnervingly quiet. You can never tell what he’s thinking or when he’s looking at you. You know he’s there and that he must think and feel like you do, but he might as well be a moving statue.

“Dank farrik,” you curse to yourself after you accidentally nick your finger on a jagged edge of your blaster. You exhale, trying to keep yourself collected, and get up off of one of the crates you were sitting on in the hull of the ship. Crossing to the other side of the hull, you open the compartment that holds the first aid kit so you can address your wound. As you dig through the kit for the bandages, you try to ignore the sound of boots descending the ladder. The footsteps grow louder and it takes everything in you to not tell Mando to go fuck off somewhere else and stop micromanaging everything you do. That’s another thing, ever since you stepped foot on this ship, he double or triple checks everything you do. He checked the shipyards at least five times to make sure you brought all the camtonos inside the crest. It’s been driving you up a wall. He gave you the impression that he had complete faith in you and your abilities, but won’t let you do anything without him checking up on you.

“What are you doing?” he asks, simply. There’s no anger in his voice, he’s not accusing you or anything. He seems to be asking out of pure curiosity.

“Nothing. It’s not important,” you dismiss him with a wave of your hand as you’re still digging through the first aid kit for just one bandage to wrap your finger in. “Where the fuck is it?” you hiss under your breath. Mando is still standing by you, and it’s kind of weirding you out. What does he want? Is he laughing at you? Does he find your current state pitiful; bloody hand, frustrated tone, and desperate searching? You can’t understand a single fucking thing about him with that stupid helmet on and it kills you. You finally slam your hand on the edge of the first aid kit and glare up at the helmet that’s been fixed on you for the past two minutes. “May I help you with something?” Your tone is sharp enough to pierce the beskar.

“It looks like you need my help more than I need yours.” Maker, is that why he’s hovering? Why didn’t he just fucking say that in the first place! He makes everything so unnecessarily difficult for no reason. Why can’t he make up his mind on whether he wants you to not do anything or help you with everything? Before you can reply snarkily to his answer, he reaches above your head and into the compartment that held the first aid kit. He digs through it for a moment, then pulls out a box full of bandages. You can’t see his face, but you’re sure he’s smiling smugly underneath his helmet. You wish you could wipe that smile off of his face with the cold, metal floor of the ship. He takes a few steps backwards before turning towards the ladder leading to the cockpit.

“We should be dropping out of hyperspace in about two days, I suggest you get some sleep while you can,” Mando turns to you to say before climbing up the ladder and disappearing above you. Sighing in defeat, you close the first aid kit shut and stuff it back into the compartment above your head, the box of bandages following shortly. He makes you feel so damn stupid. You’re capable, and he is fully aware of that fact. But he has absolutely no faith in  you. Why would he hire you if he didn’t trust you? Have I even given him a reason to trust me? You think to yourself. Dank Farrik. You used to work for Wraak. You used to work for the man who just kidnapped his kid. He must think you still have some weird devotion to him. But can you blame him? All of Wraak’s minions have an obscene devotion to him that’s cult-like. But you don’t, especially after what he did. You want to see him suffer. But you’re not so sure that shiny knows that. Why would he trust you? You haven’t done anything to prove that you deserve his respect. What are you supposed to do? Kiss his ass and tell him how great he is? You won’t stoop that low for any man. No, not until he starts treating you like an equal. But you don’t think you both will get anything done if you don’t learn to trust each other, and you’re not so sure how you can fix that. You’re beginning to feel like shouldn’t have gone on this mission. Maybe you should just take up Mando’s advice and get some rest.

…

The sound of boots descending a ladder wakes you and you groan. Realizing the position that you settled in left a dull ache in your lower back, you arch your spine hearing it crack under the pressure. The pain in your lower back immediately puts you in a sour mood. Maker, with that armor it’d be a miracle if he could infiltrate Wraak’s base without alerting all of his men and the rest of the galaxy. He must’ve realized that he woke you up because he’s standing at the bottom of the ladder waiting to see if you’ll say something to him. Or at least you think that’s why he’s standing there. Anything’s possible when that helmet is on. He crosses to the other side of the hull where his cot is concealed.

“Oh, are you going to bed? Fantastic. Good for you, bucket-head. At least one of us can get some sleep around here,” you snide sarcastically. You stand up from your place on the floor and brush past Mando and up the ladder leading to the cockpit. As you climb, you hear the door leading to the cot slide open then promptly closed. You shut yourself in the cockpit, lit only by the control panel and the blue ambiance of hyperspace, and curse as you kick the side of the pilots chair in frustration. Maybe you’re just cranky from the lack of sleep, maybe you’re tired of Mando being the elusive womp-rat that he is. But you’re really feeling like a complete and utter idiot for taking this job. What made you think you could work alongside someone like him? Or work with anyone, for that matter. In all your years of bounty hunting, you never worked with someone else to obtain a bounty. You know what you’re doing, you don’t need some pompous asshole telling you where to go and what to do. You wouldn’t have made it so far in the guild if you weren’t capable. You probably could’ve killed Wraak without Mando’s help. Who gives a shit if he thinks you’re a skilled hunter? As flattering as it may be that a Mandalorian is impressed by your skills, you’re still stronger on your own. If you didn’t have to sell your ship, you could’ve made it to Wraak’s base faster than this garbage dump he considers a gunship. Glancing at the array of controls in front of you, something catches your eye, or rather the lack of something catches your eye. The knob that controls the auxiliary thrusters is missing. Finding it odd that someone as thorough as Mando could misplace something like that, you decide that instead of moping around you could go find it instead. A distraction would do you good, hell, maybe he might finally think you’re useful. You check the seat of the pilot’s chair for the knob along with the passenger seats, but they all were empty. You scanned the floor quickly, still not seeing any sign of it. You turn towards the control panel then take a few steps back so you’re able to get a wider view of the cockpit. Your eyes scanned the small space from corner to corner, the ship humming as it traversed through hyperspace, finally, your eye caught something laying underneath the control panel. You get down on your hands and knees and crawl underneath the panel. Reaching for the silver orb, you grin once you grab it. But like the idiot you are, you forget that you’re crouching for a reason, and attempt to stand up quickly. You’re reminded of your position in the cockpit when your head meets the edge of the control panel with a loud thud, forcing your chin into your chest awkwardly.

“ OW!” you shout in pain. “FUCK!” You can hear your voice carry through the tiny space you’ve been occupying, and you lean back till your ass hits the floor. You wince as you nurse the growing bump on the back of your head. You were too preoccupied with your new head injury, that you didn’t hear the approaching footsteps up the ladder and the door to the cockpit hiss open.

“What did you do?” Mando’s modulated voice calls when he enters.

“Oh I made cookies, you want some?” you replied feigning a perky disposition, you crane your neck behind you to look up at the armored man. The helmet tilts in a way that can only mean “Really? Are you kidding me?” and you continue, “I hit my head, what does it look like, smartass.”

He extends a hand to help you up, and you wave him off and use the pilots chair as leverage to stand up instead; you remain nursing the back of your head with the hand that’s still holding that stupid silver ball. You huff in vexation once you get back on your feet and glare up at Mando’s stupidly covered face. Even if I could see your face, it would still be a stupid face, you think to yourself. You reach over to the lever to put the knob back where it belonged when Mando suddenly and harshly grabs your wrist. He stares at your hand for a moment as he holds your wrist in a death grip. You wince at the offending pressure and try to jerk away from his hold on you.

“Don’t touch my ship,” he barks, then he rips the small orb from your hand and tucks it somewhere in his utility belt. That’s the most emotion you’ve gotten from him since you met him, and it’s over a stupid silver ball? You gape at him, angrily, and he turns to leave the cockpit but you stop him. “What the hell is wrong with you? You went out of your fucking way to hire me for this mission, you haven’t let me do anything to help you at all, and now you’re mad at me for a stupid little knob? Why can’t you just trust me?”

“I do trust you,” he replies, turning around to face you, and suddenly more composed than you are.

“That’s a load of Bantha shit,” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest. He suddenly crosses to you in only two strides and the helmet stares down at you. From this angle, your height difference is even more palpable.

“I hired you to help me get my kid back and kill Wraak,” he finally asserts, his finger poking the top of your sternum and his helmet only a few inches from your face. “That’s all. Nothing more, nothing less. You’re not a co-pilot, you’re not an engineer, you’re a bounty hunter. Start acting like it.” His tone pierced your skull and replaced the sharp pain nestled in the back of your head. Storming off in a cloud of anger and frustration he turns and exits the cockpit, smacking the controls to the door and you watch as it hisses shut. He stomps down the ladder and you feel like punching yourself in the face. I’m an idiot. Of course, he hired you for your skills. He doesn’t need a fucking co-pilot or an engineer. He needs another bounty hunter. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You don’t know why, but him expressing disappointment in you stings. In thinking he had no faith in you, you realized that in actuality you had no faith in him. I should apologize to him. Yelling at him got me no where. If you’re going to work with him you need to start tolerating each other. Mando is a blunt person. Whatever he says, is exactly what he means. There’s no guessing with him, and you’re not used to that. There’s always an ulterior motive with other people; a hidden clause you didn’t sign up for. But for someone as secretive as he is, he somehow manages to be completely honest with his words. And you’re an idiot for thinking he meant anything other than exactly what he said. You should apologize.

…

 It’s been two days and you haven’t apologized. You haven’t even said a word to each other since the argument in the cockpit. You hope he doesn’t think you’re cowardice for not apologizing yet; you’re not even sure if he expects an apology. If he’s anything, he’s a man of few words, so maybe if you don’t say anything to him everything will be fine. Right? That’s going to be the plan, you’re going to ignore him unless it’s life or death. It’s not like you’ll need to be having any in-depth conversations about anything. This is strictly a business endeavor, nothing more, nothing less. You’re pulled from your thoughts when Mando approaches you and sits on a crate across from you in the hull. He pulls what looks like a bounty puck from his pocket and flicks it on. The face projected is familiar, it takes you a few moments to process who exactly it is. Once it clicks, you look up at him in confusion; your brow furrowed and you silently shrug a “what about it?” in response.

“This is who we’re going to be seeing on Numidian Prime. You know him?” Mando asks as he sets the puck down on a crate that’s nestled in front of you both.

“Well, of course. That’s Brehan, he was Wraak’s right hand man for years. Last I heard he retired and settled in the Mid Rim,” you responded. You were curious as to where Mando was going with this. If there was a bounty on Brehan, you would’ve known about it and took care of it. “But I don’t know if I can recall there being a bounty on his head.”

“There’s not,” he states simply. You tilt your head and raise your brows in surprise.

“Oh?” You lean forward in an attempt to urge him on to elaborate.

“I had Karga program a fake puck. We’re taking this to Numidian Prime and you’re going to show this to him. We want Brehan to think there’s a bounty on his head.”

“Why would we want him to think there’s a bounty on his head?” you ask, your forearms now resting on the tops of your thighs as you lean forward, still not understanding where Mando is going with this.

“He’ll want to get out of it by offering whatever he can. Spice, weapons, credits, but we’re not after his horde. We’re after his security clearances to Wraak’s base,” he iterates. And it all makes sense. Brehan retired about a month ago, and knowing Wraak, he wouldn’t have all new security protocols by now. You hated to admit it, but bucket-head’s plan didn’t sound too bad.

“That’s actually a really solid plan,” you say. Mando nods his head knowingly and leans back against the metal wall of the hull.

“There’s just one problem,” you continue. His helmet tilts towards you and he crosses his arms over his armored chest. “Brehan is still staunchly loyal to Wraak. If we show up asking for his security clearances, he’ll warn Wraak of our arrival then we’ll lose our only advantage on him. Wraak has numbers, we have the element of surprise. We could lose that by approaching Brehan.”

Mando leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. His gloved hands lace together and you can only assume he’s deep in thought. You’re sure if you listened carefully enough, you could hear the gears in his head turning.

“Okay, I know what to do,” he says after a few pensive moments. He leans closer to you and explains the plan in further detail. You listen intently, digesting all the information. As annoying as he may be, he’s good at what he does. You both spent the rest of the trip in hyperspace detailing your course of action and all possible outcomes. There’s going to be a massive risk with this mission, but you’ve both surveyed all your options, and this is most likely your best one. The flashing of red lights and the sudden sound of rapid beeping brings you both back and Mando makes his way to the cockpit as the ship drops out of hyperspace. While he’s up there, you take the time to inventory all of your gear and make sure you have everything you could possibly need. You have extra power cells for your blasters for security, the mechanism of your shockwhips are in tact, your vibro daggers are stashed in your belt and various other hiding places. You feel secure that you’re well equipped for whatever is thrown at you and shiny. Deciding to join Mando in the cockpit, you put on the rest of your gear. You slip your hands into your maroon leather gloves, then shrug on your black trenchcoat before putting on your black, flat rim gambler hat on your head. It feels good to be back in your old getup again. You climb up the ladder and palm the controls watching as the doors part open with a mechanical hiss and you can see Numidian Prime through the transparisteel. The lush green planet was exactly where you’d expect Brehan to go; full of gambling, spice, and the seediest company in the galaxy. Brehan was cold blooded. He hated icy atmospheres and warm personalities. He needed to retire someplace full of soulless reptiles who wanted to hide from the same authorities he’s been hiding from. And what better place for a soulless reptile to thrive than the jungles of Numidian Prime? 

“I’m prepping the landing array,” Mando says, flicking various switches on and pressing buttons above his head. “I’m gonna try and land on the outskirts so we can avoid alerting Brehan of our arrival. Strap in.” 

You nod in understanding and take a seat to his right, watching as the ship enters the foggy atmosphere of the planet. The swamp trees stretched as far as the eye could see, nothing but green for miles and miles. The thick trees tangled with vines shifted as the ship approached a small clearing and you saw birds swarm above the branches from the sudden movement caused by the crest. Mando sets the ship down carefully between two massive swamp trees. The engines hum as they power down and you can hear the crest hiss and whirr as it settles. You follow Mando out of the cockpit and to the hull of the ship and wait with him as he grabs his gear, which doesn’t take long cause he is seemingly always prepared for action. Once he grabs his rifle, he presses a button and the side of the hull folds open. You step down with him and stare up at the lush greenery above your head. The various species of birds whistle and call throughout the jungle and you and Mando begin the trek to the compound Brehan is hiding at. You’re not sure why, but you feel awkward. Mando seems completely comfortable in silence, avoiding the winding roots at his feet and brushing imposing vines out of his way. But you feel strange in the silence, even though you vowed that you wouldn’t speak to him again unless it was completely necessary. Yet you have this strange urge to spark conversation, but you don’t peg Shiny as the kind to engage in small talk. So you remain on his tail in silence. As you both walk through the swampy jungle of Numidian Prime, you begin to pay attention to the cacophony of insects chirping and birds cawing as your boots squish into the soft soil with each step. It’s meditative out here, humid as all hell, but it’s beautiful. You could see yourself settling somewhere lush like this place. If you ever settle. You’re restless by nature. Always craving action and feeling incomplete without it. As much as you love punching idiots in Gundi’s arena, it doesn’t compare to hunting down bounties all over the galaxy. A stray tree root catches your foot and you’re snapped from your thoughts when you stumble into Mando. He loses his footing on the root he was stepping on and falls helmet first into the ground. You managed to find your footing before you had the chance to be taken down with him, and you can’t help but laugh at him. You clasp your hand over your mouth, not intending to make fun of him and hoping he didn’t notice. He pushes up off of the ground, his helmet now sporting a layer of mud over the front, and settles onto his knees as he attempts to wipe off the mud that’s obstructing his view with his forearm. You pray he doesn’t notice how hard you’re trying to hold in your laughter. He’s so stoic and unmoving, that seeing anyone as secure as he is tumbling down into a pile of mud makes you feel so much better about yourself.

“Quit laughing,” he barks, finally getting up on his feet and turning around to continue on his path to the compound. Was Mando...pouting? No way, not the Mandalorian. He was embarrassed. You know he was. And it’s absolutely hilarious to see him storm off like a child.

“Aww, is the big bad Mandalorian upset?” you tease, trying your best to hold in your giggles. You hear him sigh under his helmet and he balls his fists in frustration. You wish you could see his face and how angry he is right now.

 “Is Mando upset he got his armor dirty? Hm?” you coo mockingly.

“Enough,” he says sternly, his fists balled tightly at his sides. You should stop. Putting him in a bad mood won’t get either of you anywhere, but stars, is it fun.

“Blast, you know what would make this better?” you wait for his response, but he remains silent, steadily walking ahead of you. “If your kid were here to see how you look right--” but before you can finish your next taunt, Mando stops dead in his tracks swiftly drawing his vibro dagger from his utility belt. Reversing his grip, he grabs your shoulder and presses you up against the nearest tree; his dagger just inches from your throat.

“Was that supposed to be funny?” he asks, his tone bitter. His forearm pressed firmly against your sternum and his other arm held on tightly to his vibro dagger. You’re trying your best not to seem absolutely fucking terrified. Your hat has practically been pushed off of your head, the only thing holding it up being the resisting pressure of the tree against your back. You swallow hard, your gaze switching between the dagger and his helmet. Maybe if you don’t say anything at all he won’t be as mad. Silence is better. Karabast, you shouldn’t have said anything. He must have a sore spot with this kid.

“Do I have to repeat myself?” he tests, breaking the tense silence. You can’t see his face, but there’s no guessing that he’s staring into your soul right now. You can feel his eyes burning into you and it makes you shift uncomfortably under his hold.

“N-no,” you finally admit. “No. I’m--” you sigh “--I’m sorry.”

And with that he releases you, sheathing his blade back into his utility belt. He turns away from you and continues on his path as if he didn’t just hold a knife to your throat just moments ago. You’ve learned your lesson: do not joke about Mando’s kid ever again. Never, ever again. He just might kill you over it. You decide to focus instead on the path ahead, never daring to avert your gaze from the sprawling roots at your feet. Yes, this was better. You don’t have to deal with the disappointment that is yourself. You’d think that someone like him could handle that kind of taunting; it was childish and incendiary. He’s above that kind of behavior and you were just attempting to be annoying. You didn’t think your words would’ve actually snuck its way under that beskar. He’s experienced worse people, has probably heard worse things than what you said. So why did he get so frustrated so fast? That kid must mean more to him than you initially thought. You stop when you see him raise his fist in your peripheral, signalling you to halt. You look up at him and can see his helmet raise up towards the sky to assess the rocky cliff that you’ve both come up upon.

“The compound is just up there,” he says. “We could probably drop down on them from above if we get up on one of these trees.” As soon as he says that the gears in your head start turning. Assessing your options, you remember you brought your ascension gun with you. Reaching for the holster around your thigh, you unclasp it and draw out your gun.

“I could get us both up there with my jet pack--” he pauses once he hears you fire your ascension gun, aiming it at the thickest branch of the tree to your right, it wraps around it and grapples the bark. “Hey! What are you doing?”

“Meet ya there, Shiny,” you say as you ascend the tree with a mechanical whirr. You make it to the branch and detach your gun, tucking it back in your holster. When you have a steady footing, you look down at Mando who is shaking his head with his hands on his hips. He presses a button on his gauntlet, igniting his jet pack, and flies up to the branch. He lands in front of you with ease and shakes his head.

“What? You were taking too long,” you say. “Now, what’s the plan?” Mando sighs and turns towards the end of the branch, he crouches so he can keep his footing and peeks out past the foliage to get a look at the compound on the cliff. He waves at you to join him and you crouch down to climb up towards him. Once you’re by his side, he peels back some of the foliage so you can get a better look at the top of the cliff. There are about three freighters and two gunships that are landed there. There was only one you recognized. The YV-865. You used to pilot those all the time when you worked for Wraak. That ship had to be Brehan’s. Mando lifts his finger and points to a moss-covered cavern that had four armed Weequays guarding it.

“Brehan’s in there,” Mando says. “We have to quietly take out those Weequays before we can get in. No blasters. If one goes off, it’ll echo throughout that cave and Brehan will know something’s wrong.” You nod your head and grin. It’ll be the perfect opportunity for you to use your shockwhips.

“Sounds easy enough. I’ll take the ones on the right,” you tell him before you leap to the nearest branch. You stay low once you land, and utilize that same technique as you leap from branch to branch. Eventually, you make it to a vantage point above the two Weequay’s you targeted. You look over and see that Mando made it to a branch about 15 feet away, parallel to you. He makes a gesture to the side of his helmet, indicating to his communicator. You press a button on your wrist, turning your com link on, and look at him expectantly.

“We’ll drop down on my signal, okay?” you hear him say through the com. You nod your head and do as he says. You watch him and wait for his signal. You adjust one of your gloves, but accidentally press a button on your com link, unknowingly turning it off. You move your gloved hand to one of your whips and take a peek at the guards below you who remain at their positions unalarmed. The second your eyes move back up to look across at Mando, he drops down between the two Weequays he’s targeting.

“Shit,” you say, grabbing one of your shockwhips and dropping down about 30 seconds after Mando does. You can hear Mando grunting as he lands blows on the guards. You bend your knees as you land and kick one of the blasters out of the nearest Weequay’s hands. It lands about 4 feet away from you both. You look back up and the other armed guard glances at it before aiming his blaster at you. Anticipating this, you flick your whip and it wraps around his wrist; his blaster drops as his whole body tenses and yellow volts of electricity crawl around his body. He then tumbles onto the ground unconscious. You look back at the blaster that you kicked out of the other Weequay’s hands and you see him bending down to grab it. You swing your whip at his throat and yank hard. His hands fly to his windpipe trying to relieve the offending pressure as he coughs and gasps, you shock him and he tenses before crumbling to the ground with a groan. You look over at Mando who is still fighting off the two guards. One, situated behind him, has his forearm around Mando’s throat, the other was landing blows to his stomach just underneath the beskar chestplate. You swing your weapon, aiming for the Weequay behind shiny. But your hand slips and your weapon wraps around Mando’s arm instead. You instinctively yank before you had the chance to process where your whip even landed and he falls to the ground. The guards now alarmed by your presence, both reach for their respective blasters. Mando is up on his feet now and aims his gauntlet at one of the guards engaging his whipcord. But you’re doing the same, attempting to incapacitate the guard before they can obtain their blasters. You both aim for the same Weequay and your weapons both reach their target; his whipcord wrapped around the guard’s torso and arms, and your shockwhip around his ankle. By the time you both realize you’ve incapacitated the same Weequay, it’s already too late. The other one has already aimed his blaster and fired. Mando’s pauldron sparked as the bolt met the beskar with a clink. You reel your whip back and it meets the guard’s chest, the shock knocking him out. The dull echo of the blaster shot rings through the cavern and you both look at each other. You’re fucked.

“Get to the ship, I’ll hold them off,” you tell Mando. His chest heaves as the helmet nods and he presses a button on his gauntlet, activating the jet pack, and zips off towards the sky. I can do this, I can do this. I’ll just talk a lot to try and buy Shiny some more time, you attempt to assure yourself. Securing your whips back in your utility belt, you draw your blaster and aim it at the cavern in anticipation. On the bright side, they’re going to come out and see one bounty hunter and four incapacitated Weequays, so they’re going to be under the impression you did this all yourself. Hopefully they’ll feel intimidated without the foreboding presence of a Mandalorian by your side. You begin to hear commotion from inside the cavern; feet shuffling, a cacophony of voices. Soon you see a few humans, more Weequays, some rodians, and none other than Brehan himself emerge from the cavern. All of the men around him were heavily armed, but Brehan appeared to be unarmed. He looked relatively the same since you last saw him, a grey goatee against his olive skin and slicked back grey hair. The only difference was that he looked slightly heavier, he must’ve been focusing less on keeping in shape for Wraak and more on enjoying the amenities life has to offer. His eyes squint and focus on you, they widen once he finally recognized you. A laugh erupts from his wide grin and his hands fly to his slightly protruding belly, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes becoming more defined. 

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he chuckles, his hands shifting to his hips. “I was wondering who was ballsy enough to interrupt my game of sabbac. It sure has been a while, hasn’t it? You still in the guild?”

“You tell me,” you say as you pull the bounty puck from your pocket and flick it on with your thumb. Brehan’s face fell once he recognized what you were holding.

“Now, I’m sure there’s been a misunderstanding. I’m retired. I stopped working for Wraak long ago. Surely we can work something out, hm?” he pleads, subtly. You grin, Mando’s plan just might work.

“Give me the clearances to Wraak’s base and I’ll consider letting you live,” you offer, tucking the puck back into your belt.

“That is just something that I’m not able to do, little lady,” Brehan replied. “Perhaps you would like some spice? Or credits?”

You’re quiet. You simply just want to draw this out as long as possible so Mando has enough time to get back to the ship. So you decide to wait until Brehan continues the negotiations.

“C’mon now, we don’t want this to get ugly. There’s one of you and fifteen of us.”

“I like those odds,” you boasted. Your blaster was still aimed towards the cavern, with no indication that it was going to drop anytime soon. You were at a standoff. They all had their blasters fixed at you, and vice versa. You were waiting for them to make the next move, and they were waiting for you to pull the trigger. Dank farrik, Shiny, if you don’t get here… . Your eyes switch back over to Brehan, and the second they do, he moves; breaking into a sprint towards his ship, you aim your blaster at the nearest guard and fire. A rodian grunts as he hits the ground and you make a break for it to find some cover as blaster fire rains down on you. You duck behind some of the crates and peek out over the top of it. You aim for one of the humans and fire at his chest. He cries as he hits the ground. You scan the area for Brehan, and you see the ramp to his ship descend as he begins to approach it. 

“Karabast!” you curse. You aim your blaster in his direction and fire four times, but miss all of your shots. There’s too much blaster fire hitting your direction to get better aim. You lose hope. He’s gonna escape and it’s gonna be your fault. You didn’t hear Mando’s signal, you didn’t drop down in time, you aimed for the wrong Weequay. It’s your fault. It’s all your fault if this mission fails. You won’t get Mando’s son back. You won’t get to avenge her death. You’re going to lose it all. The sound of a mechanic hum from above pulls you from your pity party, and you sigh in relief at the sight of the biggest hunk of junk in the galaxy. Mando made it here with the Razor Crest. He fires, and the bolts from the Crest meet Brehan’s ship, incinerating it on the spot. The blast knocks Brehan back along with some of the guards. Smiling at the intense blaze that's replaced Brehan's ship, you seize the opportunity of this distraction and begin picking off the guards one by one. On your feet now, you make your way around the crates you’ve been crouching behind and aim for the guards. You fire a barrage of shots as you walk sideways towards the end of the shipyard Mando has landed the Razor Crest at. They're still hardly noticed you started firing at them again through all the commotion. The ramp to the Crest descends and Mando wastes no time stepping out and coming to your aid. 

“Took you long enough,” you goad as you dodge blaster fire.

“Really? You’re complaining?” he fumes, blaster bolts clinking as they bounce off his armor and he grunts slightly with each impact.

Before you know it, you both took down all the guards and all that’s left is Brehan who is scrambling to his feet and searching for the nearest escape. The two of you make haste in his direction. By the time you both get to him, he managed to steal a vibro dagger from one of the bodies on the ground and he’s aiming it at the two of you.

“Drop your weapon. We can do this the easy way, or the hard way,” Mando’s modulated voice commands. But Brehan doesn’t crack, his blade remains in his grip. “Drop it.”

This time Brehan listens, the blade hits the soil with a soft thud. As Mando reaches with his free hand to his belt for his binders, Brehan reels back his fist and it collides with the underside of your jaw. You moan in pain as you stumble backwards cradling your face. The pain crawled to your teeth, leaving your mouth tender and sore. Mando knees him in the gut and Brehan doubles over in pain, coughing and groaning. Shiny grabs the sides of Brehan’s head with his gloved hands and headbutts him with the crown of his beskar helmet. You hear a crack and you're sure his nose was broken from the impact; a steady flow of crimson blood begins to flow out of Brehan’s nostrils. Mando restrains him with the binders and leads him harshly to the Razor Crest by the collar. You follow them, still cradling your jaw. Mando throws Brehan into the hull of the Crest and he lands on the floor, a bloody mess.

“Please, don’t kill me. I’ll-I’ll give you whatever you want,” Brehan grovels through bloodstained teeth pitifully from the floor.

You kneel to Brehans level, attempting to appear sympathetic, “Your security clearances are all we want. If you give us that, we’ll let you go.”

Mando’s head swivels in your direction and he says your name, “We didn’t agree to that.” His voice was hushed through the modulator.

You raise your hand, indicating he should be quiet.

“Sound good?” you ask Brehan, extending your hand so you could help him up. His cuffed hands extend up to yours and you take it, your thighs tensing as you lift his weight off of the ground. 

“Give the clearances to Mando then he’ll uncuff you,” you explain to Brehan, to which he nods simply in response. You can tell Shiny has no clue what you’re doing, and he must think you’re an idiot. But you’ve been around Brehan’s kind, you have to let him think he has the upper hand. The cuffs chime as Mando frees Brehan’s wrists from the metal binders. Massaging his wrists, Brehan gives you and the Mandalorian one last incredulous look before beginning his path towards the ramp of the ship. His feet almost meet the ground outside the ship when suddenly your shockwhip wraps around his ankle and you yank him back inside the hull harshly. His chin hits the ground and he’s dragged back inside on his stomach. Once he’s at your feet, you yank him up to your level by his collar and shove him into the carbonite chamber; the back of his skull meets the inside of the chamber with a clunk. Before Brehan can process exactly what’s happening, you smack the controls and an icy steam blankets him. All that’s left of Brehan is a pained expression seemingly etched into stone.

Mando’s helmet is fixed on you; your chest is heaving and your jaw hurts and you’re too pumped with adrenaline to check for any other injuries right now. You almost cost Mando this mission, you can’t even bother to look at him right now. You just want to sleep and forget the events of today. But once you turn away from the carbonite chamber, all you’re met with is Mando’s figure who’s blocking your point of escape.

“You didn’t go on my signal," he snaps, his gruff voice sounding disgruntled. "We could’ve had them completely by surprise if you just dropped down at the same time I did.”

“You think I don’t know that?” you ask accusatorially. “Do you think I was trying to fuck up the mission?”

“I didn’t say that--” Mando defends, his gloved hands raising in a defensive position, but you continue with your argument as if he didn’t just respond to your rhetoric question.

“I did what I could considering the circumstances. We still got the security clearances from Brehan, so I didn’t fail you,” you assure, more-so for yourself than for Mando. You were resourceful back there. And the mission was still successful, despite your fuckup. It could’ve gone so much worse, but you pulled through. And so did Mando, I guess. You both don’t work together very well, but hopefully by the time you get to Wraak’s base on Sriluur, you and Mando will finally tolerate each other enough to work together. The ramp to the Crest closes and you settle down on one of the crates in the hull and begin checking yourself for injuries.

“How’s your jaw?” Mando inquires.

“Shut up,” you snap, not even bothering to look up at Shiny as you address a few scrapes and bruises that cover your body. Dank farrik, this is going to be one long ride.

[fratzombie]

So Bless Me Anyway Chapter 1:  Of Pretty Nurses and Bleeding In Hallways

Summary:

Andrew is dying of AIDS in 1980. Kevin leaves him because he can't cope and Andrew falls in love with his nurse who is Neil. Its the Tony Kushner play Angels in America adopted with the characters from Nora Sakavic's book series All for the Game. You can read it on AO3 here. 

--

“First of all, you call now. Radio silence for months just to tell him this.  No, you don’t get to talk to him. He doesn’t need this. No, don’t call again. Goodbye, sir.”

Andrew’s head was pounding but the corner of his lips quirked almost in a smile. Nicky was shaking as he hung up the phone. But Andrew felt pride swell in his chest, even if he’d rather carve out his liver with a spoon than ever let Nicky know. He’d be insufferable. But Luther was a cancer. A bigoted nasty oozing sore of a person and Nicky was better off without the bastard in his life as far as Andrew was concerned. But the hazy feeling in his head felt way too familiar so who knows if this affectionate nonsense was organic. Oh, boy did he hate being medicated. 

Andrew’s eyes were still closed, he wasn’t quite ready to open them yet. His mouth felt like it had been stuffed full of cotton and his limbs felt heavy. He didn’t hear the coward. He’d bet the fucker was hiding. Maybe with a bottle.  Andrew said he didn’t want to go to the fucking hospital and he meant it dammit. Passing out or not, it was still his choice. Not that the coward ever listened to Andrew.

“Open your eyes, Mr. Minyard, we know you are awake.” A voice Andrew didn’t recognize. Probably a new nurse. It always took awhile for him to care enough to figure out their names. Unamused, he opened his eyes.

”My name is Neil and I’ll be your nurse for today. How are you feeling?” Neil continued. He looked like a model. Wearing dumb scrubs that were at the very least two sizes too big and with a face and hands full of scars. It was incredibly unfair that a man with knife scars down one cheek and a puckered burn under his eye on the other had a face this attractive. And he was asking how Andrew was feeling. No, this was not how today was going to go.

“Hiya Neil. Are you sure you’re my nurse? Who let you out of the burn unit?  Did you steal those oversized scrubs from them? Naughty, naughty. They don’t like it when you get out of your bed.” Andrew smiled sharply, letting his voice bounce up and down in a parody of how it sounded all those months ago. Andrew firmly believed that when life gave you the absurd the only reaction you can give it is an absurd one back. Neil smiled back just as sharp.

“No, not a patient anymore. See the burns all healed,” the nurse said gesturing to his cheek with his burned hands. His eyes laughed as he said it like he was almost amused at Andrew’s lack of tact. ”So how are you feeling?” Neil continued undeterred by Andrew’s games. How was Andrew feeling? Andrew didn’t feel. Feeling went away to fight in the war and never came home as far as Andrew was concerned.

“Just peachy.” Andrew wanted Neil to leave. Neil frowned and the frown did nothing to sour his looks, unbelievable.

“I’m sure you’ll want a minute alone with your loved one. I’ll just go get you some water and some oral meds.” Neil left and closed the door and Andrew let out the breath he was holding and turned to his cousin who was sitting in the chair.

“Nicky, where’s Kevin?”

–

Andrew was standing in the hallway coming back from the kitchen where he had gotten himself a glass of water.  He felt a little dizzy and it was getting hard to breathe but he was still standing and then the pain in his leg spiked white hot and his knee buckled. Suddenly, he was on the floor. He just wanted help to get back up. It would have taken forever if he’d have to crawl to get to bed. So he shouted to get Kevin’s attention.

“Asshole. Wake up. Kevin. Wake up. Fucker. Wake up.” Andrew could feel the sweat cover his forehead and the back of his neck. This was not good. The big idiot heard Andrew at least and ran to his side.

“Kevin, I think something is wrong. My lungs are doing a piss poor job of breathing,” Andrew said lolling his head so that he was facing Kevin even though he couldn’t quite focus on him. He kept on trying to get his eyes to focus by blinking. But the dizziness was getting seriously in the way.  Kevin started to stand up.

“I’m calling an ambulance,” Kevin said. Andrew grabbed his arm.

“No, wait, I-” Andrew began and was interrupted by the big buffoon.

“Wait? Are you fucking insane?” Kevin put his hand on Andrew’s head.  “Oh God you’re on fire, your head’s on fire.”

“No shit, that’s how a fever works.” Andrew rolled his eyes, regretted it, and winced in pain. Jesus this bullshit was making him feel pathetic.

“I don’t want to go to the hospital. I hate hospitals. Get me up so I can go to bed. We’ll call Aaron tomorrow. Just let me go to sleep.” The asshole shrugged out of his grasp. Stupid body, he used to be able to just hold him there. Stupid loss of muscle tone. Stupid disease.

“I’m calling an ambulance,” Kevin said as he left the room. Andrew could always refuse when the thing got there, he was too tired to fight with Kevin right now. Then he felt a pain in his stomach that felt like he was being punched and then a sharp pain lower like in his groin. He had to go to the bathroom, urgently.

“Kevin stop that nonsense and help me up. Fuck, Kevin, I have to go the bathroom. I don’t want to go the hospital. I just have to go to the bathroom.” Andrew’s bowels did not wait and blood and shit poured out of him. In that moment he couldn’t tell what he hated more, his traitorous body or Kevin. Andrew closed his eyes and Kevin entered the room.

“Andrew? They’ll be here in– Oh my God,”  Kevin said as he was instantly by Andrew’s side. “There’s blood,” Kevin said trying to prop Andrew up.

“You’re useless,” Andrew intoned, “Don’t touch that,” he reprimanded and he passed out.

When the ambulance came Kevin rode to the hospital with Andrew. They headed to the hospital where Andrew worked with his brother. The staff admitted Andrew fast and by 1:00 am he was set up in a room with an IV drip of antibiotics and fluids. The nurse working on him was a friend of Aaron’s fiance, her name is Emily. Emily turned to Kevin.

“He’ll be alright,” she reassured him. But it was a lie and they both knew it. He wouldn’t be alright. This was the beginning of the end.

“No he won’t,” Kevin replied unable to hear the lie, not tonight.

“No. I guess not. I gave him something that makes him sleep,” the nurse conceded. But the idea of a sedative perked Kevin up.

“Deep sleep?” Kevin asked with a little too much hope in his voice.

“Orbiting the moons of Jupiter.” Kevin nodded he was relieved. He couldn’t talk to Andrew tonight, couldn’t face him tonight. He knew it was selfish. Andrew hated anything that dulled his senses after what happened to him with the courts.

“Are you his uh…?” She gestured with her hands.

“Yes, I’m his uh,” Kevin said duly. Not being able to look at Andrew with the oxygen mask on and the tubes in his body.

“This must be hell for you,” she said well-meaningly and squeezed Kevin’s shoulder in support.

“It is. A frozen hell,” Kevin said in hollow voice.

“Yeah, well. We all get to break our hearts on this one. He seems like a nice guy. Cute,” Emily tried again.

“Not like this. Yes, he is. Was. Whatever. Will he sleep through the night?” Kevin asked again far too hopeful. Feeling as though he was suffocating in the hospital room.

“At least,” the nurse told him. Kevin grabbed his coat and scarf.

“I have to go. Tell him, if he wakes up and you’re still on, tell him goodbye, tell him I had to go.” With that, the nurse gave him a nod and her mouth tightened and Kevin left to go to the nearest bar. He stopped at a pay phone before entering the bar to call Nicky and tell him what happened. And then entered the bar and drank until he forgot his own name.