#meanwhile steve is out here like hey i passed out for at least ten minutes and thus am currently unable to think

[findafight]

they actually didn't win steve's senior year bc his concussion after the fight w billy got him benched for the rest of the season

Oh yeah Steve was absolutely benched until at least late January, considering the severity of the concussion/tbi. Running on a concussion suuucks. Like yeah sorry one of your best players is benched because some racist beat his face in for protecting a kid! Maybe be more particular about who you let join the team! Maybe next year his little protege will win the championship for you, who knows!

[mourntheantagonist]

#HarringroveApril Day 27: Growth

***

Billy stood by the doorframe tracing his fingers up and down the wood trim, his fingers getting caught in the notches that scaled up the whole length. Each indentation was a memory marked with just a simple two numbers and a date. He brought his hand down to the lowest one.

8.31.1998, 2’10”

It was the day they first moved into the new house, the first house they ever owned, the first house where they could mark up the door frame and not have to worry about losing their deposit. Steve and Billy made a whole deal about opening the door with the key for the first time, ceremoniously walking into the empty front room and for a moment forgetting about all the work they had ahead of them for the moving process. They had a little girl, Charlie, short for Charlotte, right in between the two of them, both of them holding one of her hands and swinging her up and through the door.

They excitedly walked her over to the room just around the corner, it was pretty big, the perfect amount of space for their little girl, and it had a big window facing the front yard where the sun hit every morning, perfect for waking up.

She ran around the empty space screaming, “it’s mine!” over and over again, so used to sleeping in her little bed in the same room as Billy and Steve. Billy picked her up after a few minutes of that and brought her over to the door frame.

“Steve, can you go get my toolbox?” Billy asked, the idea coming in like a lightbulb above his head.

“Sure thing.”

Steve came back with the little red craftsman and he pulled out a tape measure, a pocket knife, and a fine tip black sharpie.

“Stand up straight right here for me darlin’” Billy said, moving Charlie over to her back was against the frame. He pulled out the knife and carved a line into the wood right where the top of her head was.

“Billy what are you doing?!” Steve screamed as Billy began devaluing their house within their first few minutes of moving in.

“I’m making memories.” Billy said, holding out his hand. “Can you give me the tape measure?” Steve begrudgingly passed it over to him and pulled out the tape and measured from the floor to the notch. “Two feet, ten inches! You’re getting so tall!” Billy mussed her hair and she giggled.

“You’re gonna be taller than the two of us someday, huh?” Steve said, smiling at their happy two year olds face.

Billy picked up the sharpie and handed it over to Steve. “Would you like to do the honors baby?”

***

Steve came up behind Billy where he was standing at their daughters door and wrapped his arms around him from behind, setting his chin on Billy’s right shoulder and planting a kiss to his cheek.

“Don’t you just hate when they grow up?” Steve asks rhetorically, “I wish she’d just stay young forever too.”

Billy smiled to himself and brought a hand up to Steve cheek to pull him in closer, his other hand moving up the side of the door, a few notches higher.

9.5.2002, 3’8”

It was her first day of kindergarten. She wore a purple backpack that was almost the size of her with her curly pigtails flapping up and down as she ran through the house. She sat by the window all day waiting for the big yellow bus to come pick her up.

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Steve and Billy were freaking out. They’d never left her alone like that, there was always at least one of them with her at all times, this was going to be the first time they ever left her with someone else to take care of her. They were more worried than she was. They thought she would kick and scream and not want to leave them, but it was the exact opposite, she was eager to meet her new teacher and make new friends. She was only five, they were hardly empty nesters, but they were finally forced to come to grips with the fact that she was getting older.

It was made worse when she insisted on getting measured again, saying she’ll need to know if anyone asks her.

They brought her over to the same spot and set her up just right.

“Hey! No tiptoes you little cheater!” Billy said while getting ready to mark the wall. She giggled and lost that one inch she was trying to sneak in. “There much better.”

Steve came in with the tape measure and his eyes grew wide.

“Holy cow! You’ve grown a whole two inches since last time!”

“Really!?” Charlie and Billy asked simultaneously, she was more excited, Billy was more shocked.

“Yeah, I bet you’ll be one of the tallest kids there!”

Steve marked the date on the wall with a blue sharpie and, like clockwork, they heard the rumble of the school bus just outside their house.

“Looks like it’s time to go kiddo.” Billy said, holding out his arms waiting for a hug, but she just ran in the other direction towards the door.

“Bye dad! Bye daddy! I love you!” She shouted, and they had to practically chase her out the door so they could say goodbye too.

It would be a lie if either of them said they didn’t cry watching the bus drive off.

And they would definitely be lying if they said they didn’t immediately hop in the car and follow the bus all the way to the elementary school.

***

“We could tell her she can’t go.” Billy said.

“How do you think that’s gonna work?”

“We could lock her in her room. Like Rapunzel.”

Steve laughed a little and pulled Billy in tighter. “Wouldn’t that make us the villain?”

“I think I’m okay with that.”

Billy was staring into the room. It was clean, something abnormal, and her closet was already half empty, all of those clothes now zipped up in that suitcase on the bed.

Billy trailed his fingers up a bit higher.

11.22.2011, 5’11” (in heels)

“I want to meet him.”

Charlie rolled her eyes and stomped over to her bedroom and slammed the door behind her.

A boy went and asked her to go to the winter formal. Maybe they were being a little over the top about it, but they weren’t being completely unreasonable. She was only fourteen.

They both stood outside her door and knocked.

“Charlie, can you please open up the door?”

“No! You two are so embarrassing!”

Billy gave Steve a sly smirk.

“I’ll take you to go buy a new dress if you open up.” Billy said. There was a few short seconds of silence where Steve allowed himself to think Billy’s plan wouldn’t work, until ultimately they heard the turn of the lock and he saw Billy’s smug grin on his face.

She just stood there looking at the two of them, none of them saying a word.

“Well let’s go!” Charlie said, pushing passed them and making her way to the front door and grabbing her coat off the hook.

“You want to come with?” Billy asked, grabbing the Camaro keys off the table.

“No you go. Probably better for her sake that only one of us go.”

Billy agreed with him and gave Steve a kiss on the cheek before chasing Charlie out the door.

Charlie took a total of ten dresses into the dressing room and Billy didn’t even want to think about what the tags said. He sat on the bench with his legs shaking and constantly looking down at his phone trying to get the time to pass quicker. She was taking so long.

“You okay in there Charles?”

“Yeah, just one second.”

She walked out of the stall less than a minute later wearing a short red dress with gems on the top.

“Wow.”

“Do you like it?”

Billy thought it would be best for him to go because he wasn’t nearly as sappy as Steve, but fuck, the sight of her just… wow.

“You look beautiful.” Billy said, wiping at his nose.

“Oh god don’t cry, you’re embarrassing me.”

Billy pulled her into a hug to which she groaned. “I’m your dad, leave me alone.” He said, and she laughed. “I love you kiddo.”

“Enough to buy me a pair of heels too?”

Billy scoffed. “That’s how we’re gonna play it huh?” Billy said. “I’ll tell you what, I buy you heels, you let your dad and I meet this Noah guy, sound fair?”

She rolled her eyes and held out her hand to shake. “Deal.”

They went with the red dress and rhinestone silver two inch stiletto heels she insisted she would be able to walk in.

“I’m just going to wear them for pictures anyway. Most of us just take them off as soon as we get there.” She said.

“Your dad’s going to want to see the dress you know, so prepare for more tears.”

She laughed. “Ugh, I know. Can you two please try to hold it in on Saturday?”

“I suppose.”

As soon as they walked in the front door Steve was standing there with his arms crossed waiting. He didn’t even have to ask, she just walked straight into her room. “I’ll show you just give me a minute.”

It was longer than a minute, more like five, but to Steve it felt like an hour with the way Billy was describing the dress to him. Telling him it was a super short black cocktail dress with a deep v neck and Steve was ready to have an aneurysm until she walked out in the more modest red gown and sparkly heels.

And his reaction was the exact same as Billy’s.

“Wow.” The only word that could come out of his mouth. Just speechless.

“Thanks.” She said with a smile.

“Hey Charlie come here, I want to see how tall you are in those shoes.” Billy said, standing over by her bedroom door.

“Well I’m taller than you.”

***

“I miss her.”

“Me too baby.” Steve just pressed another kiss to Billy’s temple.

“Hey I’m right here!” Charlie yelled from behind the two of them.

“It’s weird, I can still sometimes hear her voice.” Billy said, and Steve just laughed.

“God you two are ridiculous, my school is only three hours away! You can come and visit.”

“We’ll come every weekend.”

“You better not.”

The two of them let go of each other and brought her into a group hug. “We’re really going to miss you.”

“I’m gonna miss you too.”

They stayed like that for a little bit too long, trying to make up for all of the missed hugs they were going to have, just enough to hold her dear old dads over until thanksgiving. When they finally came apart, all three of them were crying.

“Hold on, just one second.” Charlie said, running into the kitchen and rummaging through the drawers. She came back with the tape measure, sharpie, and Billy’s old pocket knife.

“One more for old times sake?”

8.13.2015, 5’9”

[kortsitron]

Secret Dancer

Relationship: Bucky × Male!Reader { Planotic and kinda romantic }

Location: Avengers Tower

Time: Mention of it in one shot

AU: None I guess

Warnings: None

(h/n) - hero name

Imagine: You love dancing on pole, but you didn't told anyone about it. James accidentally finds about your passion.

[A/N]

You may ask "Where did you get that idea?", well I saw thinking too much about one pole dance pose that I wanted to draw and I'm looking at internet to find it (still cannot find it :'<) and I got this great idea. Enjoy! 💗

[ one more thing! it's my first time wring something like this! ]

(Y/N) (L/N) also known as (h/n), most stretched out and flexible avenger. Calling his fighting style dancing a like wasn't wrong. His moves were graceful.

Avengers were pretty impressed by male's skills. (Y/N) got all this by two things: training everyday and his secret. The fact that he enjoyed dancing on pole, not in the dirty way of course.

(Y/N) had a secret passion that he never told anyone about it. Well, Tony could be the only one to have any suspicions. When male was about to move in, he asked Mr. Stark to put a pole into his room. Tony didn't asked why, just did it for him and didn't told anyone about it, just like he promised.

It was friday, evening. (Y/N) was wearing black short shorts and also black loose shirt without sleeves. His favorite song was on. Male stretched himself and went to his cabinet for his camera. He put it on the floor and started recording.

"Let's do it. Let's do the blade. Take one!" He said cheerfully. (Y/N) had a lot videos of him learning new poses. His wanted to have his progress saved for the future. He walked to the pole streched himself once more and got onto the pole. He spun proud a few times before trying to do "blade".

Minutes passed by and male almost did it, but "Oh my G--" he fell off. "UGH!" He moaned angrily "I need a break." He sighed out as he got up and ended recording. Male decided to lay on his bed and simply breathe to calm down and get ready for another shots.

Ten minutes later, male turned "Play Date by Melanie Martinez", turned on recording and got to the pole. "Blade. Take number seventeen." (Y/N) murmured without turning to the camera. He relaxed his body before going on a pole.

Meanwhile Bucky was in his way to (Y/N)'s room with package that came a few minutes ago. Inside, James was actually really happy to talk to (Y/N), he had crush on him and only Steve knew about it. Talking with him when his best friend was around was less stressing.

Bucky knocked on the door, but got no answer. Music was too loud for (Y/N) to hear the knocking. James got in and saw male on the pole, doing "blade".

"Yes!" He yelled with happiness in his voice, but when he saw Bucky in his door, he fell off again, on his back. "Bu-cky?! W-what are doing here?" He quickly got up.

"You got a package." He said, his eyes were wide, he was surprised. "I didn't knew that you were a-"

"I don't know what you think, but I'm none of the bad things." He came to him and took a package from his hand.

"I gotta go." He breathed out and closed the door. (Y/N) stood in front of the door and sighed. He went to the camera, ended recording and turned it off. Then he sat on the bed. He knew that he should go to Winter Soldier and explain everything to him, but now, both men needed to calm after that accident.

A hour went and (Y/N) got into more comfortable clothes and was on his way to James's room. He knocked on door and waited for the answer.

"Come in." And then (Y/N) without any hesitation, walked into the room and closed the door. "Oh hi." He said as he sat on the bed.

"Hey. I just felt like you, umm... need some kind of explanation and here I am." He smiled as he walked and stood in front of him. He was a little bit nervous.

"Take a seat, (Y/N)." Bucky smiled as well and tapped on the place on the bed next to him and waited for him to sit down. "Before you say anything, I promise, I didn't thought about anything perverting. I swear." He laughed nervously, rubbing back of his neck.

"I believe in that." (Y/N) chuckled as well. "Pole is my passion. I love doing all these poses and stuff. You know, you are the first person who found out about it, but please don't tell anyone." He prayed and made puppy eyes.

"Of course, I'm not going to tell anyone, I promise."

"Thanks. I guess I will be going." (Y/N) stood up, but as soon as he he was standing, he felt cold hand on his wrist. He looked at James. "Hmm?"

"Stay. Tell me more, doll." He said with confidence on his voice. Male blushed at the nickname.

"If are interested, I-I can give you a-a small show." He offered, proposition made Bucky blush a bit.

"Fine."

Another one of (Y/N)'s favourite songs. Bucky was sitting on the bed, waiting for (Y/N) to start. Male spun around and did a few of his favourite poses, some of them were easy to do, others were more difficult. He looked at Bucky who started clapping. (Y/N)'s grasp softened and he fell off.

"I'm sorry!" He quickly said, laying on the floor. Bucky walked to him.

"Is everything fine?" Asked as he looked down at him and helped man got up.

"Yes. Thanks for being audience, I appreciate that." He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away.

"You're welcome. You are amazing, I'm glad that I could be the one to watch it."

"Until others have no idea about it, I would be happy if you could, I don't know... my only audience, at least for now."

"If that's what you want, sure thing, doll." He laughed and crossed his arms. (Y/N) stood awkwardly in front of Bucky. He wanted to kiss him so badly, he had a chance and he knew that now or never.

He kissed him gently, he was about to move away, but he felt Bucky kissing back. After a few seconds, he pulled away.

"Mind to be mine?" He said in flirty tone, feeling more confidence than a few seconds ago.

"Not at all, doll."

[dearest-bucky]

That don’t impress me much (One Shot)

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Sometimes fancy dates with fancy people and fancy flowers are not enough to make someone fall in love.

Words: 2.3K

Warnings: none for this one really, just cuteness hihi

A/N: This is loosely inspired by the song with the same title by Shania Twain. I really hope you like it. 

A/n 2: One or two days before my old blog got deleted I got an anonymous request that was in the kind of in the same lines of this story but I will still write it because I will mix it with something else to create a different story. Okay so this was just a reminder for the anon (who probably doesn’t even follow me here lol) that I haven’t forgotten their request and I will have it posted right after I’m finished reposting all my old stories. 

Originally posted: February 27, 2020

“Okay Dad America, he’s here so I got to head out.” She pecked Steve’s cheek lightly, leaving a pinkish mark of lipstick in his skin and headed out of the compound.

“Don’t wait up for me.” She jokingly called behind her shoulder and then she was out of the door.

Steve and Natasha chuckled in unison at her antics, meanwhile Bucky who was pretending to be invested in his book, huffed in annoyance.

She looked absolutely gorgeous, wearing a navy blue long sleeved dress and black sandals. Her make up was as always on fleek and she was ready to make any man in New York fall in love with her.

It was yet another date for her, they were becoming a recurring thing lately and Bucky absolutely hated seeing her dressed up to the nines and  leaving with another man that wasn’t him. Despite his annoyance, he was trying to keep the focus on his book, but miserably failing anyway.

“You know you could always ask her out and then you won’t have to see her run off to another man’s arms.” Natasha stated matter of fact.

Bucky just rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything.

“She’s right Buck.” It was Steve’s turn to speak.

This time the brunet closed his book in annoyance and got up from his spot on the couch.

“Like you two know anything…” His words were out in a mumbling voice all the while he was walking out of the common room, more than relieved to be out of the overwhelming presence of the Black Widow and his punk best friend.

Of course he hated seeing y/n go out on these dates, and he absolutely hated all the guys she dated. They were all too sophisticated and rich and they smelled like money from far away. The good thing was that y/n never liked any of them that much as to offer them a second date, but for how long? Bucky was sure someone would soon come along and steal her heart if he didn’t do something about it, but how could he tell her he had feelings for her? How could he compare to any of those other guys?

Sure, being an Avenger and living in the compound meant Tony was always stuffing their bank accounts, but Bucky felt like he couldn’t even get to the level of those guys, not only financially, but also emotionally. He could never offer y/n what they could. He could never make her happy like one of them could. And that’s why he kept his mouth shut.

*

Another failed date. Y/n realized it as soon as she entered her date’s car. He handed her a big bouquet of red roses, that was way too exaggerated for her liking and kissed her cheek lightly.

She smiled but she couldn’t help feeling she was just wasting her time.

Men always went out of their way with surprises and gifts, like pearly jewelry or in this case overly expensive bouquets of roses, thinking she would appreciate the materials and fall for them or something. No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t get a normal date. Possibly one with a certain handsome broody super soldier.

She kept going on these dates with these men trying to make Bucky jealous, desperately hoping he would say something, but she never got a reaction from him. Maybe he just didn’t like her that way.

Maybe all of her attempts to get his attention hadn’t worked.

She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat by the unpleasant thoughts and smiled sweetly at her date. She had to at least look like she was having a good time.

The ride to the restaurant was short and she was thankful for that. But when they set foot inside the place, y/n immediately felt suffocated by the stuffy atmosphere. That place screamed expensive, with the crystal chandeliers and porcelain plates.

While she enjoyed the nice food and everything, she couldn’t help but let her mind wander to the possibility of Bucky being with her there. Maybe they wouldn’t be there at all anyway. She knew how much Bucky hated the crowded places and she knew she would enjoy being with him anywhere, it didn’t matter how classy or expensive the place was.

“So I’m hoping next time we could escape for a whole weekend in my cabin in Vermont.” Mark was already making plans for a second date and y/n couldn’t wait for this first one to be over. He was so sure in himself it made y/n laugh at his face.

“I’ll let you know if I’m free.” She replied politely, not wanting to be unnecessarily rude with him.

They skipped desserts after y/n pretended she wasn’t feeling all that well and he drove her back to the compound again. When he stopped the car outside the building, he got close to y/n, trying to get a kiss from her, but at the last moment she shifted her face and his lips met her cheek.

Mark sighed quietly but smiled nonetheless.

“Thanks for tonight, I had a good time.” Y/n spoke almost too quickly, wanting this to be over already. “Good night.” With a small smile she opened the door of the car and got off.

“Don’t forget the flowers.” Mark called after her animatedly.

She turned around and picked the heavy bouquet. “Sure, we don’t want to forget the flowers.” The words were hushed out under her breath and she bid him good night for the second time before going inside.

It was only a couple minutes past ten, so she was surprised to see that nobody was in the common areas. She entered the dark kitchen with a sigh and put the bouquet on the counter, then headed to the fridge to get a frozen yogurt.

Only when the light of the refrigerator illuminated the place, did she notice a silhouette sitting unmoving in one of the armchairs, head hanging low.

Y/n gasped loudly, despite being an Avenger she was scared easily and immediately turned the light on, seeing Bucky sleeping uncomfortably in the chair.

He woke up by the noise she made and locked eyes with her.

“Hey, you’re home early.” He said after checking the time on his phone.

“Yeah, wasn’t feeling too great.”

Bucky’s eyes averted from her face to the giant bouquet of red roses and he shook his head slightly. “That’s a really big bouquet.”

Y/n chuckled, not totally calm yet.

“Yeah, I thought that too.”

They stared at each other’s eyes for a little too long for y/n’s liking. Bucky made her feel nervous and every time he looked into her eyes it seemed as if he was able to read her every secret thought.

She cleared her throat in an attempt to compose herself, before talking to him again.

“So where is everyone else?”

“Steve and Sam got called on a mission. Tony is in his lab with Bruce and Vision. And the girls went out for drinks I think.”

Y/n felt a little bad for Bucky being left alone. No matter how much time passed he still wouldn’t be 100% comfortable around Tony and vice versa, so with every person left in the compound being with him, Bucky felt like he should just step away.

“We can watch a movie together if you want?” She offered without really thinking.

Bucky’s eyes widened at her words, and she took that for having stepped a boundary or something, so she quickly added “If you don’t want to go back to sleep that is, or if you just don’t want then that’s okay too. I just meant that it’s just us…”

She started rambling and she wouldn’t be stopping any time soon if it wasn’t for Bucky interrupting her.

“I would love to watch a movie with you, y/n.”

She blushed at his words and then nodded her head.

“Okay, great! Just give me ten minutes to get out of this dress and into some comfy pjs and I’ll be right back. You can pick a movie if you like.”

With that she got in the elevator, heading to her bedroom.

Bucky didn’t know what movie to choose, so he figured he would just wait for her to pick one. It was a little less than 10 minutes later when she re-entered in the kitchen, this time without any trace of make up in her face, her previously beachy curls gathered in a messy bun and wearing a cute pajama with little elephants imprinted on it.

Bucky thought she never looked more adorable.

“So, you picked a movie yet?”

“No, I figured you could do that.”

She scrolled down on Netflix to find some good movie, before deciding to watch Clueless. It was a light choice, funny, cute and she always thought that Josh was too cute and he and Cher were so good together.

They sat on the love seat, a blanket thrown casually on their laps and started the movie. It was a good one, a chick flick but Bucky liked it nonetheless.

He was focused on the storyline when around the middle of the movie he felt y/n’s weight on his left shoulder. He tensed a little, but relaxed again just as soon after, because it was y/n, and he loved having her near him. Besides she was never scared or repulsed by his metal arm.

Not long after her, he felt his eyes closing too and they were both fast asleep next to each other.

*

In the morning y/n was the first to wake up, feeling her cheeks flushing with embarrassment when she realized she had fallen asleep on Bucky.

Being tucked close to his chest, his head was resting on top of hers, and she could her his deep breaths. He was still soundly sleeping. Y/n didn’t know what to do, if she moved she would wake him up, but if she didn’t the other members of the team would see them cuddling on the couch and she didn’t want to hear their teasing.

She tried to carefully free herself from Bucky’s arms but his grip tightened unconsciously and she huffed out a short breath.

Bucky started stirring in his sleep and she could sense him waking up.

“Good morning.” He rasped out and oh god, his sleepy voice was the sexiest sound she had ever heard. She slapped herself mentally and tried to keep her thoughts in check.

“Morning Buck. I’m sorry I fell asleep on you last night.”

“I don’t mind.” He replied, now being fully awake.

She smiled sweetly at him and didn’t know what to say. In that moment her phone chimed and she picked it up to read the new incoming message.

Mark: Good morning. :) Would you like going on a breakfast date with me?

She sighed upon reading the message. Bucky who couldn’t stop his eyes from  stealing a quick glance at her phone screen stiffened visibly and started retreating his body from hers.

“I suppose you have somewhere to go..” his voice faltered at the end of the sentence.

Y/n put her phone down and turned to look at Bucky. “Not unless you want me to stay here.”

“Doll I-”

“Should I stay?” Her interruption surprised him. She looked like she was almost pleading him to ask her to stay.

“Do you want to stay?” He asked unsure, not knowing how to answer to her question, actually fearing he would answer the wrong thing.

“Very much.” She didn’t even hesitate to give him that answer. “I am tired of going out on dates with guys that aren’t you.”

Before she could loose that boost of confidence she had no idea where came from, she continued speaking, her voice carrying all the feelings she was trying to communicate to him.

“I am tired of carrying these heavy exaggerated bouquets every other night and I am tired of having to be polite to my dates and refusing their expensive gifts and their second dates requests.”

Bucky eyes widened with every word leaving her mouth, but he didn’t dare interrupt her.

“I don’t want to put myself through the same useless process of dating people I know I won’t give a chance because I have my eyes on someone else. And I don’t want to wait anymore to tell you this, I really like you Bucky. And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same because-”

He didn’t let her speak anymore, pressing his lips softly to hers. Her breath hitched when he kissed her, but she wasn’t planning on turning him down. With newfound eager she reciprocated his kiss and he was all too happy to keep tasting her.

Too soon for her liking anyway, he broke it off and rested her forehead against hers.

“I really like you too sweetheart.” He whispered near her lips and she couldn’t hide the smile that spread on her face.

“But I can’t compare to those other guys. I can’t offer you expensive jewelry or fancy crowded restaurants dates and I-”

She pecked his lips for a second, just to get him to stop, before she distanced herself from him, but never going too far.

Her hands went to cup his cheeks while she locked her eyes with his.

“None of that impresses me. You know I don’t care about any of it. I had the best date with you last night, just watching a movie and sleeping next to you.” Her voice was sweet and honest and Bucky didn’t have any other choice but to believe her.

He covered her hands that were still resting on his face with his and smiled  lovingly at her.

“You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever had the pleasure to know, you know that?”

[no-gorms]

Something with Tony's hair? It's really floofy and fics with Steve paying attention to it make me go AAAHHHHHHH

Here you go, I hope you enjoy it, anon!

+

Steve/Tony, 1400+ words, established but very new relationship (also on ao3)

Steve has a dilemma.

It’s after ten in the evening on what is technically his second date with Tony. It’s been good so far: dinner at a nice restaurant, a brisk after-dinner walk, and their current sitting together in the Tower common area waiting for late-night TV. The conversation’s been good, they’re both far more relaxed than they were on their first date, and Tony’s comfortable enough to tuck himself up against Steve’s side as Steve fails to pay any proper attention to what’s happening on TV.

It’s been pretty problem-free thus far.

But Steve has a dilemma all the same, and it stems from his lack of dating experience, coupled with his more general lack of experience with the wild rollercoaster that is Tony Stark. 

“We should hire that guy,” Tony says. 

“Hmm?” Steve says helpfully.

Tony gestures loosely at the TV. An upbeat commercial of some sort is playing, and Tony enters into an anecedote about commercials that SI used to do and his favorites were the ones that were effectively short films that made no sense and why don’t more people make that these days? It’s all interesting, but Steve is honestly more concerned with the fact that Tony’s resting against him, and that when the talks, the vibrations rumbles right through Tony’s chest to Steve’s.

For these details are core to Steve’s dilemma, which is: how much touching is appropriate at ths point? They haven’t kissed, beyond Tony’s pecking his cheek after their first date. They haven’t held hands, though there’s been some casual touching of each other’s arms and back here and there. Tony isn’t shy – at least, he hasn’t given any inkling of being shy around Steve – but the build of physical closeness has been far slower than Steve expected.

“I mean, you do ads, right? PSAs count as ads?” Tony says. “That guy does that thing with his eyebrows, it’s hilarious–”

Because Steve doesn’t want Tony to be the one marking all of their relationship milestones. Sure, it’s too early for that to even be an issue, but Tony’s the one who asked Steve out, and did most of the deciding for their first date, and various other things. Steve’s kept up on his side of things, such as starting their new habit of sending random messages to each other at any time of day, but he feels that he should do a share of showing Tony that he’s welcome to take more of his personal space than he has thus far.

“–not that it’d have to be a commercial,” Tony’s saying. “Or a political ad. Oh hey, you’d do a political ad, though, right?”

“Only after a great deal of due diligence,” Steve says.

Tony bobs his head. “Fair.”

“Are you comfy?” Steve says, hopefully not too quickly. “Is it okay if I move my arm?”

“Oh, hmm? Yeah, sure.” Tony moves, making space for Steve to lift an arm and settle it around Tony’s shoulder. 

Interestingly, Tony barely seems to register the change, and is back to talking about the Avengers’ public-facing activities and that it’s a crime against humanity that Steve hasn’t made any PSAs since Tony made him a suit that actually flatters. 

Steve responds appropriately – reminding Tony that the PSAs were only a favor to Fury, and that he prefers groundwork activities – but since he is a multi-tasker, he’s also parsing the new feel of Tony under his arm, warm and comfy and distributing his weight differently. Also, the fact that it’s not a big deal to Tony makes it a big deal to Steve, and has him thinking that he should’ve done it earlier.

Should he be doing more? He should be doing more. Just a little more; not to be pushy or aggressive in way, but just to show that Steve’s equally comfortable with Tony. 

In this position, Steve could trail his fingers across Tony’s upper arm or neck. Would a neck touch too suggestive? It should be, necks are vulnerable areas. Perhaps his hair be a better choice. There’s so much of it and it’s so full of personality, that even Natasha plays with Tony’s hair sometimes.

As Tony starts on a tangent of asking which actor he’d like to play Steve in a hypothetical Avengers movie, Steve lifts his forearm, careful not to dislodge where Tony’s resting against his bicep, and splays his fingers that they brush the top of Tony’s hair.

Tony doesn’t seem to register this, either. Instead he says with a laugh: “You’re such a liar. You’ve watched more movies in the last six months than I have. You have opinions.”

“Not on this,” Steve replies. Emboldened, he pushes two fingers a little further into Tony’s hair, and twirls the strands around his fingertips. “Honestly.”

“What, you don’t register other sharp-jawed blond beefcakes?” Tony grins. “Only I do that?”

“You’d have better luck asking my opinion of incredibly charming dark-haired men with impeccably-trimmed facial hair,” Steve says.

“Impeccably trimmed,” Tony echoes. “Well dang, I got standards to live up to now.”

The conversation continues, drifting from topic to topic. Meanwhile, Steve keeps touching Tony’s hair, two fingers to three to four. He notes the texture of product near the ends, but there’s softness further in, where the hair grows thicker closer to the roots. Steve finds himself thinking of Bruce’s sensory mats, and how interesting they are to touch, though less interesting than Tony’s hair.

There’s bounce to it, though it’s tricky to tell how much of it is product and how much is natural. Steve thinks it would be just as interesting either way, though tonight it’s perfectly coiffed – date night, so it’s to be expected. Tony’s hair is different during days he cares less about how he looks; early mornings are good for that. But he does comb his hair this way regularly, in waves running backward from the temple, though he adjusts the front as needs be.

Tony doesn’t say anything about it. He doesn’t call Steve out or ask what the hell he’s doing, so for a minute or so Steve wonders if Tony really hasn’t noticed at all. But that impression is wholly discarded when Tony… presses back. Against Steve’s hand.

Steve’s tongue doesn’t trip. He keeps going – conversation and petting both – while inside he’s pretty much crowing his success. 

Permission fully granted, Steve’s fingers find Tony’s scalp. He’s careful to keep his fingernails away, and so merely draws patterns through the roots of Tony’s hair, moving with and against the direction of growth, and reveling in the varied texture.

Minutes of this must pass. It must, because the very talk show they’ve been waiting for is started, though hell knows if either of them is really watching it.

It is at this point that Tony turns, his gaze moving from the TV screen to land squarely on Steve’s face. “So, hey.”

“Hi?” Steve says.

Tony’s resting his head against the jut of Steve’s shoulder now, and blinks slowly at him. It occurs to Steve to Tony looks slightly drunk, just as Tony says, “You want me to suck your dick?”

Steve is so startled that his head jerks back, teeth clicking together as he jaw snaps shut. It takes a second or so for him to recover enough to say, “Excuse me?”

“Right now,” Tony says, as if it isn’t also a reality that Steve hasn’t gotten to kiss him yet. “I’m game if you’re game. As long as you don’t–” Tony’s eyes pointedly flick upward to his own head, “– stop.”

Steve takes a deep breath. He brings all his fingers right on into the thick of Tony’s hair at the back of his head, in a circle against Tony’s scalp that Steve narrows down to a point, and Tony makes this – this sound, which is immensely distracting.

Even so, Steve says patiently, “Tony, you don’t need to offer a blowjob. I’ll play with your hair for free.”

Tony blinks again, slower this time. Sometimes it’s difficult to read him, but in this moment his quiet glee is perfectly clear.

“Cool,” Tony says – nay, slurs. “But we’ll do the blowjob thing eventually, yeah?”

Steve clears his throat. “Yes, eventually.”

So it is that Steve learns the following: what Tony’s date hair feels like, that Tony very much doesn’t mind when Steve plays with his hair, and that when Steve plays with his hair long enough it turns Tony into a highly affectionate cuddle monster. All very nice things.

And Steve does get his kiss later, too, which is also very nice.

[rogue-barnes-16]

THE MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE OF NATASHA ROMANOFF (part V/?)

Summary: after the too convenient disappearance of Natasha Romanoff, the Avengers —a local biker gang— search for help in the most unexpected place in order to get their friend back. Will it help, or will the situation just get more twisted and dangerous?

Pairing: biker!Bucky Barnes x reader

Genre: angst-ish (biker gang au)

Tags:

The mysterious disappearance of Natasha Romanoff: @shirukitsune @retrxbarnes @montypythonsholysnail

Permanent taglist: @notexactlythatgirl @thisismysecrethappyplace @sofreakinmanyfandoms @pizzarollpatrol @bubblycypress87 @1a-girl-has-no-name1 @loislp @lovenaturefirst @dyanna-corona @2ptonpt @goodnightmode @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @mannls @cutie1365 @catch22inareddress @mybooradley @sebastianisasnack @butifulsoul125 @unlikelygalaxygiver

Warnings: language

A/N: I've been kinda missing for quite a while, posting something here and there, but I kinda miss writing regularly so I'll try come back to posting twice-thrice a week, but you gotta give me a bit to get some shit rearranged and written for that schedule to be possible. Meanwhile, enjoy this part of the series and if you wanna be added to the taglist, send an ask <3.

The mysterious disappearance of Natasha Romanoff masterlist

Rogue-barnes-16 masterlist

I took a deep breath and threw myself against the backrest, waiting for the first location to load while my hands ran through up my face and through my hair.

A yawn escaped my lips as I checked the laptop's clock first, and the timer for the code to do its magic second.

Leaving the laptop over the chair where I had been sitting, I walked my way to the kitchen and poured myself what would be the fourth coffee of that morning.

As soon as I finished, I made my way to the balcony were I used to spend those early mornings with my mug held between my palms.

I took a sip of my coffee, resting my elbows over the small balcony's railing. My were eyes closed as I breathed in the forest morning breeze.

"So much for saying it was a one-night stand." A teasing voice behind me asked, and a grin tugged the corners of my lips. "You still here?"

"It's been two weeks since that." I taunted him, taking a sip. "get over it."

"can't get over you." He dramatically stated in his morning husky voice, which made the sentence seem way more romantic than I thought it was.

"So fucking cheesy." I laughed.

"Bare with me, doll." feeling his lips against my temple made my smile wider while a pair of hands traveled from behind me to rest on my hips. "this is mine." he tugged the hem of his jacket, which I was wearing.

I hummed in response, leaning my back against his chest. "It's chilly out here. I didn't wanna get cold."

He tugged the hem of his jacket eagerly, feathery kisses tracing a path from my shoulder to my neck "come back to bed" I chuckled at his eagerness . " it's still warm."

"I got work to do" I replied noctant with the sole goal of sort-of upsetting him in a playful way. "No time for cuddling."

"Please, Y/n." he whined, slowly pulling me away from the balcony to take me back to the bed. "Just ten minutes."

"It's not gonna be ten minutes." I retorted playfully, turning around to kiss his lips as we entered the bedroom once more. "You're not fooling anyone with those puppy eyes, Barnes."

He let out a subtle laugh "at least you won't get cold."

I shivered.

It was always a little bit too chilly during the morning in that balcony.

I felt the urge to squeal when a jacket was suddenly thrown over my shoulders as a reply to my subtle shiver.

I held it back, though, and instead, grabbed the lapels clothing offered and put it on while a tall figure made its way to my side "Drop the coffee, yunky." Sam teased, resting his elbows over the railing without sparing me more than a subtle glance. "it's like the tenth one I see you with this mornin'."

"It's just the fourth one." I responded, looking before me to avoid eye contact with him as I took a sip of the coffee. "It's nice to see your level of drama hasn't changed at all."

"it's good to see your level of sarcasm is still the same, too." I shook my head with a smirk I couldn't hold back. "I kinda missed that annoying sass."

"Oh boy, ain't I aware of that."

His amused yet brief chuckle preceeded a surprisingly soothing silence between the two of us.

"So" I looked over to him and, by the knowing half smile in his face as he watched me intently, I just knew what he was going to mention. "a boyfriend?"

"Hell no," I denied with a scoff. "we're not talking 'bout that."

"C'mon, Y/n." he whined, turning to face my side. "I won't tell Barnes."

"Sam" I pinched the bridge of my nose as all the bad memories from those last days with them came back around, as if they had been summoned by Bucky’s last name. "I still don't trust you. Any of you."

"Uh... Sorry."

"Like-- I appreciate you tryin" I explained the best way I could. "but we're not there yet, and I don't know if we ever will."

"Yeah I'm-"

I shut my eyes as the self-awareness of how rude I might have sounded hit me. "I'm sorry I-"

"No, no, I'm sorry, you're right." he sighed, rubbing is hands together in an anxious manner. "And... I know it's not my place to ask any of this, but-" he took a split second to measure his words before speaking. "You're happy with him, right?"

I frowned, not at the question itself, but at what was carefully hidden behind it. "what d'ya mean?"

"I mean, you're with him because he makes you happy, right?"

"Wilson, why the fuck would I be with him if he didn't?" I inquired, now turning around to face him as my tone turned more hostile each passing second.

"I shouldn't be sayin' this but-"

"But you're gonna say it anyway." I finished. He opened his mouth a couple of times but nothing came out. "C'mon, what d'ya mean?"

"Listen-" he glanced around before continuing the sentence he had just started. "I'm just sayin I hope it's 'cause you're happy together and not 'cause of Bucky."

We eyeballed each other for a hot second while the anger built up inside me, making it so damn hard for me not to explode.

"Y'know what? I'm not havin' it." I stated, stepping away from the balcony in order to reach the living room.

"That's not an answer."

"You don't fuckin' deserve one." I hissed, grabbing the laptop to finish what was left to do as quickly as I could, now eager to flee out of there.

How dare him? I thought to myself. Who the fuck gave him the right to say shit like that.

The moment I was done with the laptop, I smacked it shut and, picking up my jacket, I rushed downstairs.

I was so inside my thoughts that I ended up bumping into Bucky on my way out, which left us both with barely enough balance to avoid falling down the stairs.

"Shit- sorry."

"Don't worry." he let go of my forearms, which I didn't know he was holding, and I shockingly enough, had to do the same, since I gripped his arms to avoid falling. "You okay?"

"Yeah- I mean..." I puffed, affirming with my head. "I'm fine."

"I..." I stared into his eyes for a moment, watching him trying to read me in order to find out what was wrong. "You sure?" I only nodded as his worried irises observed me. "you finished?"

"Yeah, everything's set in the laptop already." he mumbled an 'alright' and stepped aside, freeing the way for me to exit. "I... I really hope you find her."

"I'll call you if I need your help again." he answered, and, right after, attempted to climb upstairs.

"Bucky wait!" I followed him just to be close enough to be able to grab his hand, which made his whole body tense. "I changed my number." I explained whilst getting a pen out of my pocket to scribble my new number on his palm. "there it goes." I let go of him with a pang of sadness that I wouldn't even admit to myself. "keep me updated." I requested, trying my best to ignore the tinge of red creeping up his neck and ears.

"Okay. Have a good time with your boyfriend." what was meant to be a smile ended up as a pursed lip, and I couldn't blame him since I felt my mouth doing the same gesture as I climbed downstairs to the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

BUCKY'S P. O. V.

I double checked Natasha's phone's latest locations, which Y/n had managed to get before leaving, before going back to the map in order to revise which were areas out of New Jersey and Queens.

"Hey" I spun my head to the door frame, against where Sam's side was now resting. "How's it going?"

"Uh... I think we have something." I informed him, pointing at one small area near the center of Manhattan. "I called Carter— I know, Steve's gonna kill me." I stated, anticipating whatever Sam must have thought of saying out loud. "She said Hydra's boys have been seen in this area for a while and--"

"I wasn't asking 'bout Nat." he cut me off, tilting his head to the side slightly while the faintest tinge of worry showed up in his eyes. "I meant-- y'know what I meant."

"What d'ya want me to say?" I questioned with a wannabe-careless shrug. "It's going. Just like it's been goin' for 'bout year already."

I took a peek at his face and I just knew he was about to explain to me how different it had been today from the rest of that year of me drowning in self-pity.

"Don't-"

"She got a boyfriend."

"Yeah, I heard that too." I replied sarcastically, getting up in order to reach for the phone again.

"What I mean-"

"She moved on, I know." I finished his sentence, starting to mark Peggy's number once again. "Can you focus on-"

Sam teared the phone away from me in a swift movement, which left me shocked for a couple of seconds.

"what the hell, Wilson?"

"Don't call Peggy," he warned me, locking the phone and placing it in his pocket. "Steve's gonna end you. And-"

"I swear if it's 'bout-"

"I wasn't gonna say that she moved on, you idiot." he snapped. "I was gonna say, don't do anything fucking stupid."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means she's not single." my friend warned me with arms crossed, no longer resting against the door frame. "It means that if somethin' happens and she doesn't stop it-"

"Nothin'll happen," I assured him with a sting of pain in my heart.

He sighed, scratching the back of his neck. "I'm just sayin'..."

"Sam."

"I'm tryna help, man." his reply sounded as a desperate whine. "If you do something stupid and her relationship goes south, the blame's gonna be on you."

"It wouldn't-"

"It will," he argued, lowering the voice before continuing. " 'cause it's easier to blame the ex who fucked her up."

"We're all adults."

"Yeah" he agreed. "but you're my friend and I don't wanna see you bawling and weeping for another year."

"I'll be just fine."

[bright-molina]

a/n I did it y’all, I finished a fic for the first time in a billion years! Sidenote, I wrote this literally waaaay back when season 2 first came out so it’s outdated, yeah, but hey a fic is a fic right? Also: that middle gif isn’t mine, just wanna put that out there. Also, also: lowkey if y’all want more steve fics hmu

*

Your eyes were narrowed at the screen of the TV. You had no idea what was going on in whatever show happened to be playing but if looks could kill then those actors would be dead ten times over. It was date night and Steve had bailed on you for the third week in a row. To make matters worse it was your anniversary and he was now avoiding you. Usually, you had Nancy to talk to about it but even she had disappeared without a word two days ago. It took you longer than you cared to admit to connect the dots but you finally had. There was something going on and you were determined to find out exactly what that was. 

You picked up the phone with a new purpose and started dialing numbers. There was no answer at Steve’s house which you had expected and so you tried Nancy one last time. Mrs. Wheeler gave you the same response she had given you the night before, one which you were now sure was a lie. You dialed a few more numbers but none of them led you anywhere. It was then that you got the idea to try Jonathan’s. If your best friend was anywhere it would be with him. After a few rings, somebody finally picked up the phone. It just wasn’t who you were expecting it to be. 

“Hello?” 

“Mike?” You weren’t too surprised to find Mike on the phone. You had, afterall, lived right next door to the Wheeler’s your entire life. You had honestly spent a fair amount of time with the party and you knew how close Mike was to Will Byers in particular. 

“Y/N?”

“Shit!” 

“Was that Steve?” You sat up in your seat and were surprised to find out that the Byer’s house is where your boyfriend was hiding. You could hear Steve telling Mike to tell you that he wasn’t there. You couldn’t help but sigh and roll your eyes at his desperate attempt to throw you off.

“Uh, n-no. He’s not here.”

“Don’t lie to me, Mike. I can literally hear him talking.” You could hear the sound of muffled shouting on the other end of the line. Their voices became clear and Steve answered the phone himself this time. 

“Hey, babe”

“Steve Harrington!” You immediately scolded, practically being able to see the way he was most likely wincing on the other end. “You bailed on me again!” 

“I know, I know. I’m sorry—“

“Sorry isn’t going to help when I kick your ass!” You shouted. You were mostly angry at him but also a little hurt. For as long as you could remember, the two of you told each other everything. And now, just as you thought you and Steve were at your best so far, he started hiding things from you. More than anything you wanted answers. “You better have a good explanation for ditching me because I swear to god, Steve, I told you last time that —” 

“Monster hunting!” He quickly responded, yelling a little bit in the process. He knew he couldn’t lie to you any longer. If he hadn’t told you than he was sure you would get it out of one of the boys, all of whom adored you. 

You wished you could say that Steve’s claim of ‘monster hunting’ surprised you but it really didn’t. The year before you had fought off a demogorgon alongside him, Nancy and Jonathan. When Will had gone missing you refused to sit still. And when there turned out to be a monster from another dimension you didn’t hesitate to help your friends get rid of it. Needless to say, it was quite the bonding experience and you and Steve had gotten to know each other a lot better since then. 

“Look,” Steve’s voice lowered and you could tell he was worried. Your anger dissipated almost completely upon finding out all his sneaking around came from needing to know you were safe. “Just promise me you’ll stay home, okay? I’ll explain later, promise.”

“No need,” You couldn’t sit back, a fact which Steve knew very well. Not another moment passed before you were standing up from the couch and looking for your things. “I’ll be there in ten.”

*

“Great, you see what you little shit’s did? Now Y/N is going to show up and she’s pissed at me which is never a good thing” Steve sighed as he ran his hands through his hair, not that it budged at all. He had spent a few minutes debating what exactly he was going to tell you when you got there. Finally he had come to the conclusion that he would just wing it, maybe he’d get lucky and you’d let it go because of unexpected circumstances. 

“Dude, you’re the one who bailed on her again,” Mike shook his head. He could recall the many times before when he overheard you telling Nancy everything that had happened. And then the following day’s conversation when you would tell her how he had made it up to you. Usually involving details he wished he could unhear. “That’s not cool.” 

“And on your anniversary?” Dustin was the next one to criticise him. “You know, you’re not really coming off as the best boyfriend at the moment. No offense.” 

“You guys are supposed to be on my side,” Steve mumbled as he rolled his eyes at their comments. He had to admit though, they weren’t totally wrong. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about you, of course he did, more than anything. Which was why he had opted in keeping you out of the loop this time around. 

“Wait, wasn’t Y/N the one who killed the demogorgon last year?” Lucas questioned. They could all recall your telling of the events perfectly and if there was anyone they believed, well it was you. “So wouldn’t it have made sense that she help us out?” 

There was a chorus of agreements from the rest of the party while Steve rolled his eyes at them. “Technically we all killed it a little. As you know, my girlfriend is a badass and she just so happened to be the one to deliver the killing blow that got it stuck in the trap. But we all got some hits in, okay?” 

“So basically she killed it” Max put it simply and the boys unanimously agreed while Steve tried to argue his point. A laugh rang through the room over their debating. 

“You bet your ass I killed that thing.” 

When they turned they found you standing in the doorway while leaning on your own nail covered bat. Steve watched as you greeted each of the boys and introduced yourself to Max. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight of you listening to them recounting everything that had happened the past couple of days. It wasn’t until you turned to look at him with a glare that his smile fell. 

“We have to talk don’t we?” He asked even though he knew the answer perfectly well. 

“Kitchen” Was all you replied with before walking past him without another glance. 

*

“It’s all Dustin’s fault!” Steve immediately told you. Both of you pretended not to hear the ‘no it wasn’t!’ from the other room. “I was on my way to see you but you weren’t home and he ambushed me. They all did. It was the kids fault! And then there was a junkyard and these lizard things and shit and,” He sighed heavily and it was then that you noticed just how tired he was. “It’s been a long day.” 

“And you were planning on fighting those things alone?” You asked, not surprised at all by the fact. 

“Not exactly,” He knew when he saw the look on your face that he had to elaborate. “Mrs. Byers is with the kid in the room and Jonathan, Nancy, and Hopper are clearing out the shed. We have a plan.” 

“Why did nobody think to tell me what was going on!” You sighed in exasperation as you propped yourself up on the table. A shot of fear ran through you as you realized that until now it had been just Steve and the kids and you had no clue what they were up to at the time.

“You were the first person I said we should go to!” 

“Yeah, same!” 

“Hey, dickheads, this is a private conversation” Steve rolled his eyes at Lucas and Dustin before turning back to you. He sighed when he saw the way your arms were crossed while frowning. You felt him wrap his arms around you, holding you as close to him as possible. “It was my idea not to call you. I’m sorry.” It simply wasn’t possible for you to stay mad at him. A soft smile made its way onto your face and before you knew it you were kissing him for the first time in what felt like ages. “You know I love you, right?” 

You gave a small laugh before kissing him, a little harder and a little longer this time, muttering I love you’s in between. “You know,” You were short of breath as you hopped off the counter and tried to compose yourself. Steve watched as you turned towards him again and your smile very subtly turned into a smirk. Your face was flushed and you were both just a little disheveled and he could swear he fell in love with you even more just then. “I had a little surprise planned just for you tonight,” Your voice was low and suggestive and if he wasn’t flustered and bothered before than he definitely was now. You placed one last soft kiss on his lips and flashed a smile before turning around again and making your way out of the room. “I guess now you’ll never know what it was.”

“Wait!” Steve tried calling after you but you were already gone. He let out a frustrated sigh as he ran his hands through his hair again. His imagination ran rampant with all the possibilities of what you had been implying. He spent another few minutes pacing the kitchen in an attempt to calm down a little. One thing was certain. He had missed out on spending time with you and if they didn’t die that night he was definitely going to kill Dustin. 

*

A week later you sat in your living room once again. This time however you had company. 

“Please baby,” Steve whined as he placed soft kisses up and down your neck. He had pulled you into his lap and was trying to convince you to elaborate on the little comment you had made at the Byer’s the week before. Meanwhile, you were watching a rerun of Ghostbusters. You were stubborn though and refused to tell him. For the time being at least. 

After another ten minutes of Steve trying to get your attention you finally huffed and turned to face him, straddling his lap in the process. The action caught him by surprise and he moaned a little when you kissed him just to get him to stop talking. 

“You really want to know?” You whispered against his lips as you tangled your hands in his hair. He gave you a small nod and gulped a little. “Well first,” His attention was focused completely on you and your every move as you kissed along his jaw. “You let me finish watching Ghostbusters.” 

Your laugh rang through the room when Steve threw his head back, rolled his eyes, and groaned loudly. In a flash you had changed positions, you now had your back against the couch while Steve straddled you. “You really suck, you know that?” You simply hummed in response as he kissed you again. 

The moment was short lived. Before you could process what was happening the front door swung wide open and you were met with a chorus of shouting. 

“You two are disgusting!” 

“What the hell guys!” 

“Seriously, get a room!” 

“Everyone avert your eyes!” 

The two of you sat up on the couch, Steve reluctantly and with a heavy sigh. You, on the other hand, gave him your I-told-you-so face. You had very specifically reminded him that it was game night and the party would be there soon. Evidently he hadn’t heard you. 

“Can we help you?” Steve looked at them, only slightly annoyed at their sudden intrusion. 

“We called tonight,” Mike complained first, motioning towards the plethora of junk food piled on the table that you had bought for everyone earlier. “In case you hadn’t noticed.” 

“And you guys couldn’t have knocked? We were,” Steve paused for a second and debated his next choice of words. “A little preoccupied.” 

“You know what,” Dustin interrupted before anyone could argue any further. “Just because we’re good people, and kind of owe you both, we’ll postpone for tomorrow. Just, you know, sanitize the place or something.”

He had a point and they all figured it was better safe than sorry. You let them leave all the things they had brought with piled on the floor and soon you were left alone with Steve again. 

“I knew he was my favorite for a reason.” Steve made sure the front door was locked before walking back over and offering you his hand. 

“What?” Your smile was wide, already knowing what he was planning. Or hoping you had planned still. “You don’t really want to pick up again after that do you?” 

“Why not?” His grin matched yours and there was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Just in case, we’re safer in your room. C’mon.”

You spared one last glance at the door before taking his hand and letting him lead you upstairs, knowing you were in for a blissfully long night. 

[onewaywardwitch]

Just A Typo (7/?)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Hacker!Reader

Summary: It was a simple challenge between a very competitive group of friends. A challenge that ended very differently than anticipated.

Warnings: Language, torture but nothing too intense, an insane amount of sarcasm 

Word Count: 2600 exactly!

A/N: Seriously, this was not supposed to be so sarcastic but oh well. Also, Captain Marvel is literally my favourite movie now. It’s incredible!

Destroyed. A total mess.

Bucky couldn’t think of any other words to describe the state of Y/N’s apartment. While she didn’t have a whole lot of furniture, anything she did have had been turned upside or simply thrown to the side. Her kitchen table was missing a leg and for some reason he couldn’t look away from it.

“Shit…” Tony muttered, kicking at a broken cupboard door lying on the ground.

They had gotten there as fast as they possibly could, but they were obviously too late. Tony had barely explained what was happening to the rest of the team, only demanding they get a move on immediately. When he finally told them on the way, Bucky nearly snapped his gun into pieces. Everyone had glanced at each other in worry. Even Natasha seemed concerned for Y/N’s safety. For once no one had anything to say, an eerie silence hanging over the team until they reached their destination.

The rest of the building appeared perfectly normal. Too normal for anything remotely interesting to happen. Bucky saw a mother rushing past them, chasing after her child who was clutching a small gaming console in her hands. Both were too preoccupied to notice the superheroes walking by. They were so blissfully unaware of what had happened near them, and for the briefest moment, Bucky felt jealous. Jealous that they could lead normal lives, that they didn’t have to peer around every corner before they turned. And he felt guilty too. Guilty that Y/N wouldn’t be able to have that kind of freedom anymore.

“Cameras were all down within a ten mile radius. Businesses in the area all said they experienced some kind of malfunction half an hour ago,” Steve said, re-joining the rest of the team in Y/N’s apartment.

“How convenient,” Sam replied, rolling his eyes. It did nothing to hide the unease on his face.

“What are we thinking? Hydra?”

“This is my fault,” Bucky spoke up suddenly. Everyone turned to look at him. Clint opened his mouth to argue with his statement, but he didn’t give him a chance to.

“I walked her home once. Someone must have followed us. Seen us together and figured she must have been someone important. This is all my fault.” He rubbed his hand over his face and Steve went over to console him and try to convince him otherwise. Meanwhile, Tony was running every kind of test he could think of in Y/N’s home, hoping to find a fingerprint, even a single strand of hair. He knew Bucky was blaming himself, but he couldn’t help but think it was him who was responsible. After all, he was the one who was constantly chatting with Y/N, always keeping up to date with each other’s lives. Anyone who worked in the tower could have seen them together and spilled it to someone. It was his fault for not taking more precautions, for not checking up on her when she was at home.

He shook his head, clearing himself of those thoughts. If they were going to find her, which they were, he would need to keep his mind focused.

Natasha quickly looked at Tony in realisation, her face suddenly full of dread.

“I'm not telling her friends.”

~~~~~

“Well, this feels uncomfortably familiar,” I said after finally regaining consciousness. My mouth seemed to work faster than literally any other part of my body; a blessing and a curse. It took me a few moments to realise my wrists felt scratched and were burning slightly. It took another minute for me to cope on that my hands were tied securely behind my back.

I wriggled around, attempting to loosen myself free. I only succeeded in scrapping the chair along the floor slightly.

“This looks so much easier in the movies,” I grumbled. I resorted to simply looking around the room, hating how familiar this whole situation was. At least the last time I knew where I was.

The groan of the metal door opening brought me back to the present. A woman entered sporting a bored facial expression and, for some unexplainable reason, I had a feeling she was going to despise my entire personality.

“We know you work for Stark.”

She had a heavy accent, one that my uncooperative brain failed to place.

“And we have heard of your skills with a computer. You are a valuable asset to have, and far easier to get to than we had previously anticipated. But you are here now, Y/N Y/L/N, and you are going to work for us.”

Her glare turned cold and calculating, her arms folded across her chest.

“That’s a great speech. Really impressive. How long did you spend rehearsing that in front of the mirror?”

Whoops, bad move.

She smiled threateningly at me and left the room without another word, the slamming door making me jump slightly.

~~~~~

It could have been a day, but I had never been good at judging the time. Realistically it had only been a couple of hours. So that was their plan, leave me alone without food or water until I agree to work for them. I huffed, silently hating the universe for the way things were turning out for me.

“Hey! Someone, anyone?”

The same woman entered again, looking more confident this time. She stood in front of me, patiently waiting for me to agree with their plan.

“Have you thought about interior design? I mean, judging from this room alone,” I scanned the bland, purely grey room that contained only a table and me in a chair, “you’ve got a real eye for it. Definitely worth considering if you're looking for a career change.”

This time I didn’t jump when the door slammed behind her.

~~~~~

She came in of her own accord a couple of hours later, just as I started regretting not having dinner. This time, she held a laptop under her arm.

“As you weren’t cooperating, we began questioning whether you actually have the skillset to do what we want you to do. We aim high here. But first, we must know if you are actually worth our efforts.” She set the laptop down on the table in front of me. “You are going to hack into Stark Industries to prove we should keep you alive.”

Woah, déjà vu. Kind of. There was no death threats last time.

I stuck out my chin defiantly and looked her right in the eye.

“Not a chance.”

My God, that was terrifying.

She smirked and left momentarily before returning with a plate and glass in her hands. She placed them beside the laptop. They were nothing special, a simple glass of water and a basic meal of bread and a couple of spoonfuls of steamed vegetables. I tried to convince myself I wasn’t hungry, but my growling stomach betrayed me.

“You can have the food when you hack into Stark’s.”

I barely heard the door close.

~~~~~

Sam leaned across to Bucky. “How many more times is she gonna hit him with that cushion?”

The person in question was Becca, one of Y/N's closest friends. The team had decided they needed to explain the situation to both Angie and Becca immediately. The pair were excited to be brought to the tower before Tony, who felt obligated to speak to them, informed them of what happened. He had a green tea prepared in advance for Angie, Y/N having told him many times before that that was how she dealt with her stress. Becca was the unpredictable one, and she had taken to grabbing one of the cushions off the closest sofa and beating Tony over the head with it.

“YOU-”

Whack.

“-ABSOLUTE- “

Thump.

“-IDIOT!”

Smack.

“YOU BASICALLY FORCE Y/N TO WORK FOR YOU-“ Another hit from the cushion. “- AND THEN YOU GET HER KIDNAPPED?”

No one even attempted to stop Becca from hitting Tony, the group of superheroes fearful that she would turn her wrath to one of them. Wanda had set Angie on the seat beside her and forced the green tea into her hand. She seemed to be in shock, barely even noticing the tea burning her tongue.

A few moments later, Tony grabbed the cushion off Becca, whose hits had become far less aggressive, the tears streaming freely down her face. She dropped onto the sofa, Steve rubbing her arm in an attempt to comfort her. It wasn’t working.

“Who… do you know who took her?” Angie spoke up, drawing all attention towards her.

Tony and Steve shared a look. “We’re not too sure, but it's looking like Hydra. We’ve got every camera in the world looking for her; street cameras, ATMs. There are a few Hydra bases that we know about. We’re going to check them out too. We’ll find her,” Tony replied confidently, even if he was only trying to convince himself.

“And if you don’t?” Becca said, wiping the tears from her now slightly puffy eyes.

“We will,” Bucky answered her, and she shot him a small smile. “Guaranteed.”

~~~~~

I continued to refuse to work for them, much to the chagrin of the woman placed in charge of me. She was obviously getting tired of my comments every time she came in. After what I believed was two days stuck in that little cell, she realised she’d have to allow me to eat the food, or else I wouldn’t have lasted too long. She was reluctant to release the restraints on my wrists, but I merely smiled sweetly at her and told her to thank the chef. That earned me a rough smack on the back of my head.

I lost track of time completely in there. The hours were going by slowly, but I knew it couldn’t have been any longer than a week. The meals only tasted blander with each passing day and my back was aching from the lack of movement.

She came in again, the woman I was so sick of seeing. She must’ve hated me a whole lot more than I hated her, because this time she didn’t come in empty-handed.

“Woah, new haircut?” I questioned, my voice shaking as I eyed the small, handheld box that I couldn’t quite identify.

She noticed I was staring at her new gadget and held it up for me to see properly.

“Ah, this is for you.” Another person came into the room, dragging a second chair into the room. He came up behind me and tied my hands behind my back once again, my grunts of annoyance doing nothing to deter him, before leaving. “Since you have decided to make this much more difficult than necessary, we realised we may have to up our game.”

She twirled the device a couple of times and I attempted to keep a calm appearance.

“You’d be surprised at how easy it is to get these. So simple, yet so effective,” she winked at me. “It's a compact stun gun.  The basic ones have become a lot common nowadays, but we’ve made some improvements to the original design.”

I laughed nervously as she took a seat in front of me, watching my reaction closely.

“Running out of new ideas?”

Without another word, she leaned across and pressed the front of the gun against my arm. I yelped as a small jolt of electricity rushed through my skin. It wasn’t exactly painful, more surprising than anything else.

“That was nothing, the lowest available setting. You only feel a tingling sensation. If I was to increase the voltage, however…” Her sentence died off as she turned the small dial on the side of the gun. My body instinctively tried to pull away from her, the restraints completely inhibiting my movement.

I still wouldn’t describe it as painful, but it was fairly uncomfortable, bordering on the edge of pain. The muscles in my arm were subconsciously contracting in anticipation each time the gun came into contact with my skin. She quickly grew bored with the setting it was at, deciding to up the voltage once again.

“MOTHERFU- “

That one was painful. I had no control over my body’s reaction to the electricity this time. It felt as though every single muscle in my body was contracting at once. She began to hold the gun to my skin for longer periods of time, drawing the pain out for a few seconds longer each time. She seemed to enjoy the gasps and shouts of pain that I let out.

Fortunately for me, someone came in to call her out. At least, I assumed that’s what they were doing there. There was a faint ringing in my ears making it difficult to fully understand what the pair were saying. Or they were speaking another language. Either way, the woman was leaving, kicking the chair back in frustration.

“Try not to miss me too much.”

She hit my head with the butt of the gun, clearly sick of my comments every few minutes. It took me a few minutes to lift my head back up again. I shook my head, trying to stop the room from spinning. I silently thanked the universe for forcing that sadistic woman out of the room.

I had spent the past few days convincing myself that the Avengers would find me, yet it failed to cross my mind what would happen if they didn’t. I hadn’t even thought of that possibility. I wasn’t a spy or a super soldier. I didn’t have any exceptional powers that would allow me to break free from here, or to withstand more intense torture. I wasn’t built to hold up under interrogation. The only thing I was good at is hacking. And there was no way I could hack myself out of this situation… Oh…

I couldn’t fathom how my brain had completely short-circuited, making me forget the only crucial bit of information I actually needed in order to escape this actual nightmare. I had been working on it at the tower for a while now, and I was only telling Bucky about it recently.

“See, I figured that if someone else is going to try hack into the tower, they’re not going to make a stupid mistake like I did, right?” I glanced across to Bucky, who was focused on what I was saying. Not needing any reply, I continued on.

“I'm installing this new system that’ll basically send a virus to whoever is hacking you. So, while they’re hacking into our system, we’ll be doing the same to theirs without them even knowing. That way, we’ll be able to access everything they have and know where they are. And it’ll be impossible for them to get into our system at all now. They can try, but I've made it virtually unhackable,” I explained proudly.

My little epiphany ignited a new hope in me, and I shouted once again, calling for my ‘babysitter’.

She couldn’t have looked more defeated. I'd be sick of me too if I were her. She didn’t even come into the room fully. She must have been dealing with her boss only minutes ago, and it evidently didn’t go well. She looked at me pointedly, waiting for me to give her a reason to stay and put up with me for a while longer.

I needed to convince her I was serious. So I groaned and hung my head slightly, staring at her and clenching my jaw in mock frustration.

“Fine, I'll hack into Stark’s.”

She grinned like a middle-aged woman set free in Ikea.

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[imjustthemechanic]

The French Mistake

Part 1/? - A Visitor Part 2/? - The Kulturhistorisk Museum Heist Part 3/? - Cutscene Part 4/? - The Marvel Cinematic Universe Part 5/? - Breathless

Saving the world will have to wait a few hours - there are pick-ups to film.

The most obvious solution, of course, was to do exactly the opposite of whatever it was Loki had done to get them here.  The obvious problem with that solution was that they had no idea how to do that.

“We’ll need the rune stone and the tesseract,” Steve observed.  “The rune stone will be in the museum, probably, but if the Avengers are just a movie in this universe, then where’s the tesseract?”

“Maybe in storage with SHIELD,” Nat suggested.  “Maybe in Asgard.  Maybe at the bottom of the ocean, there’s no way to tell from here.”

None of those were comforting possibilities.  “Once we have them, we’ll have to figure out how to program the rune stone,” Steve went on, remembering how Loki had worked with the gold pieces he’d inserted in it.

“Loki obviously knew how to do that, and Thor might, too,” Nat said.  “I don’t think even Loki is foolish enough to do something like universe-hopping without a fallback plan, so we can probably assume he can get us back even if Thor can’t.  We just have to find him.”

“And make him,” said Steve, who suspected they’d have a hard time making Loki do anything.

“But if they’ve ended up where their actors were, like we did,” Nat held up the notes she’d made, “then we have their names.  That’s a good start.”

“Then let’s not waste any more time,” said Steve.

He closed the laptop and stood, but just then, Dodger began to bark.  A moment later, somebody knocked on the trailer door.  Steve glanced at Natasha, who shrugged, so he got up and went to answer it.

The caller was as tall, thin man with a mustache, who immediately leaned down to give the dog a head rub.  “Hey, Dodger!” he said with a smile, then straightened up to talk to Steve.  “Thought I’d let you know, it’s almost two.  Ridley needs you two back in makeup.”

“Oh, yeah,” said Steve.  “Tell him we’ll be right there.”

He shut the door again and went to the closet to grab something more weather-appropriate than his track suit – but when he happened to look out the bedroom window, he saw that the stranger had not left.  He was standing at the door, waiting for them.  The trailer had only one door, and the windows didn’t open far enough for Steve to climb out.  He momentarily considered just knocking the guy out and fleeing, but as Natasha had said, these people really weren’t a threat.  They were just trying to make a movie, and had no idea that their stars were no longer their stars…

… and, Steve realized, he still couldn’t tell them.  In their own universe, Steve and Natasha would have been arrested if they’d told anyone their real names.  In this one, they would probably be considered insane.

“You got any ideas?” he asked Nat.

“Bide our time and wait for an opportunity,” she replied.  “When we get a chance to leave without having to make a big production out of it, we’ll leave.”

“So we just go on set?  And do what?” asked Steve.  “We don’t even know what movie we’re making.”

“It’s called Breathless,” Nat replied authoritatively.  “Ridley Scott is directing.  It’s loosely based on an incident on the Space Station Mir in 1997, when there was a fire and explosion.  I read the script pages they gave me,” she added.

Of course she had.  Nat never missed an opportunity to learn something.  “You’re taking this very well,” Steve observed.

“Believe it or not, this isn’t my first alternate universe,” said Nat.  “Last time, though, we had an open portal home whenever we needed it.”

The man with the mustache, who said his name was Henry, led them into another trailer parked just outside the building.  This one was much more utilitarian, boxy and windowless, and inside was a row of mirrors and makeup tables, separated by cubicle partitions.  Henry got Steve and Natasha settled at two of these, and the woman named Maddy returned with cups of coffee to pass out.

“Okay,” she said, handing one to Steve.  “Since the Russian doesn’t meet ScarJo’s high standards, instead we’re gonna grab some extra close-ups.  Chris, we’ll get you into a pre-fire EVA helmet on greenscreen two, for the first cargo bay sequence.”  She gave him a couple of pages, and then moved on.  “Scarlett, you’ll be in a post-fire B jumpsuit for Olga’s message to her brother.  Tabitha!” she called out.

“Already on it!” a voice replied from just outside.

Henry got to work, wiping old makeup off Steve’s face and dabbing a new layer on.  Meanwhile, a woman with dark hair in a pixie cut, who turned out to be the previously unseen Tabitha, brought in the costumes.  Steve’s was a big cumbersome thing that he recognized as the upper half of a spacesuit.  She hung it on a hook on the wall, and went on to deliver costumes to the rest of the cast.

Steve looked down at the pages he’d been given.  These ones had bent corners and multiple corrections in blue pen, as if they’d been used before.  His eye caught the highlighted words Rankin gazes in awe at the blue vista of Earth, and he felt his stomach turn inside-out all over again.

This was no good.  Steve could do a lot of things, but acting wasn’t one of them.  He couldn’t even tell little white lies, much less simulate gazing in awe at anything.  If he couldn’t make I don’t know sound convincing, what the hell was he supposed to do with it’s like you could reach out and touch it?

Maddy came back to look over Steve’s shoulder while Henry worked on his face.  “Any questions?��� she asked.

The first one that sprang to mind was can I be excused?, but Steve suspected he already knew what the answer would be.  “Where’s Dodger?” he asked.  Who looked after the dog while the owner was filming?

“Relax,” Henry assured him.  “Paulette will take him for his walk, on schedule.”

Through the partition, Steve could hear Natasha laughing at something one of her own assistants had said.  “Oh, that sounds just like Mark!” she said delightedly.

Steve wondered who Mark was.  Then he wondered if Natasha knew.

The makeup took an awfully long time.  Steve had seen both Natasha and Peggy do their faces up inside of ten minutes and come out looking fabulous, but this took nearly forty-five, and as far as Steve could tell from his reflection he looked no different at the end of it than he had at the beginning.  Next, Tabitha and Henry helped Steve into his half-a-spacesuit, which weighed far more than it looked like it did, and led him back into the studio building.

The long process had at least given him time to look at the lines he was expected to say, and it looked as if all that was happening in the scene was Matt Rankin looking at the earth and talking about how cool it was.  Steve was starting to tell himself that he could do that.  When he’d done the Captain America movies in the 40’s, he’d been playing himself – it hadn’t been very good, but when filming a scene he’d been able to look back at the real events it was based on, and try to imitate what he’d said or felt at the time.  He’d never actually seen the earth from space, of course, but he could remember the awe of watching the Chi’Tauri vessels come through the wormhole or something like that.  If he just got himself into the right headspace, it couldn’t be that hard…

Henry and Tabitha showed him into a room where there was a green wall, and positioned him in front of it.  A camera rig rolled right up to his face, making him lean away involuntarily.

“Okay,” said a woman standing next to the camera.  “Let’s start with the wordless ones.  Awe at the blue vista, please.”

Steve blinked and looked around.  “Where is it?” he asked.

“Where’s what?” said the woman.

“The blue vista,” he clarified.  “What am I supposed to look at?”

“Same as last time,” she said, as if this were reassuring or even comprehensible.  “Right there.”

She pointed at the ceiling.  There was another green panel up there.

Steve felt his moment of confidence drain away.  How was he supposed to express awe at the blue vista when all he was looking at was a green panel?  “It’s not even blue!” he protested.

“You’re an actor,” the woman replied.  “Use your imagination.  “Lights!”

The ambient light in the room went out, and a huge cluster of blue-white bulbs came on overhead.  In the heavy spacesuit costume, Steve immediately felt like he was overheating.

He tried, though.  The best thing he could come up with to imagine was the opening sequence from the Planet Earth documentary series, which definitely featured a blue vista rolling by.  He could sort of imagine actually being in space with that looming over him.  Before he could really get into it, though, the camera moved even closer, and he couldn’t stop himself from looking directly into the lens.

“Cut!” said the woman.  “Try it again.”

It was no good, though.  The camera was right there.  He couldn’t not look at it – if he tried, he became paranoid that it would run right over him.  Then there was the inescapable knowledge that he was being watched.  That was what Steve had always hated most about the War Bonds ads, or any television appearance, the constant presence of the staring audience.  He’d had to take Peggy’s advice and pretend there was a one-way mirror between them.  The whole thing just made him feel so silly.

Eventually the second-unit director got fed up and decided to try something else.  One of the grips read out what was supposed to be dialogue from mission control, while Steve, in the role of Mission Specialist Matt Rankin, replied.

“How’s the view, Rankin?” the script-reader asked.

Steve took a deep breath.  “Spectacular.  It’s like I could reach out and touch it.”

“Can you see your house from up there?”

“I can see everybody’s house from up here,” said Steve.

“Cut,” sighed the second-unit director.  “Try it again.  A little passion, Chris?  This isn’t Captain America’s Fitness Challenge.”

Steve wanted to retract his head into the spacesuit costume like a turtle into its shell.  Why couldn’t he have landed in an alternate universe where people didn’t remember Captain America’s Fitness Challenge?

At last the second-unit director gave up in disgust and told everybody to take a break.  Henry and Tabitha helped Steve out of the heavy spacesuit costume and gave him a bottle of water to re-hydrate after standing under the hot studio lights.  As he stood there chugging it, wiggling uncomfortably in a shirt practically pasted to him by sweat, Ridley Scott entered the room.

“How’s it going?”

“We’re having an Off Day,” the second-unit director said, looking at Steve out of the sides of her eyes.

“I’m… just not feeling it,” said Steve.  “I need to go look at some space pictures or something.”

“Apparently we used up all our good work in that stunt this morning,” Scott grumbled.  “Scarlett’s suddenly having trouble deciding what a Russian accent sounds like.”

From out in the hall came Natasha’s voice.  “Russia has the surface area of the moon,” she said.  “If you want a ‘Russian accent’, you need to be more specific.”

Steve finished his water and wiped his forehead.  “Could I get another one of these?” he asked hopefully.

There was a cooler in the makeup trailer with water and sodas in it.  Steve dug a second bottle out, and downed it while Natasha lounged in one of the chairs examining her fingernails, seemingly having a great time playing the spoiled starlet.

“How’d you do?” she asked Steve with a smirk.

“I’m not sure I’m speaking to you,” said Steve.  He mopped his forehead with the edge of his t-shirt.  “I don’t think I need to, anyway, you were probably watching the whole thing.”

“Actually, no,” said Nat, “but I’m hoping we can see the dailies!  Anyway.”  She sat up and held out her phone.  “I didn’t learn anything about the tesseract, but that’s not surprising.  I did manage to learn, though, that Chris Hemsworth, who plays Thor, is currently on sabbatical with his family in Australia.”

The picture she’d found was of a smiling man in a jacket and tie, with short blond hair and beard stubble.  He did look like Thor, although it was strange to see him with his hair cut.  “I thought I was Chris,” said Steve.

“Apparently there’s a lot of Chris around here,” said Nat.

“Any sign of a chance to escape yet?” Steve asked.  It couldn’t come fast enough.

“A little more bad acting from you ought to do the trick,” Natasha said.  “Sooner or later they’ll just give up.”

“I’m glad I’m good for something,” said Steve.

There was a knock on the door, and without waiting for an answer, another studio employee leaned into the makeup trailer.  This was a thin young woman with long, limp blonde hair under a pink knitted hat.  “Excuse me, Scarlett?” she said to Nat.  “Your husband’s here.”

[inawickedlittletown]

Walking The Wire (128/156)

Summary: Tony Stark always knew about Peter Parker. He didn’t know that Peter was going to get superpowers and become Spider-Man, but he always knew about Peter because Peter was his son.

This will span from pre-Iron Man up through the rest of the MCU (eventually including Infinity War) and will be for the most part canon compliant except where I’ve taken some liberties and interpreted canon a certain way.

Pairings: Pepper/Tony, Tony/Steve (endgame), Tony/Mary (past)

A/N: If you want me to tag you when I post new chapters let me know. This fic is also on AO3

I used Collider’s MCU timeline to stay canon and the title of this fic is an Imagine Dragons song that is just so fitting for Peter and Tony

@findmeinthestarss

Masterpost

Chapter One Hundred Twenty Seven

“Have you heard anything?” The words were hard to get out. The call had been hard to make in the first place.

“No,” Pepper said. “I haven’t. With everything going on we don’t even know if they’re…”

“Yeah,” May said.

It was hard to not know anything. There were lists upon lists of everyone that was missing. The world had gone topsy turvy and no one knew what came next. May couldn’t imagine that things were even going to be the same.

“May, we don’t know anything either. Not really. I spoke to Rhodey. They’re all shaken up. The whole world is…”

“How are you holding up?” May asked.

May had gotten to know Pepper well over the years. She knew her well enough to know that Pepper would be doing more than her part to help the world move forward. Tony wasn’t around -- and who knew if he would be again -- but Pepper Potts would do all the she could to help people in light of everything. The decimation. It was a horrible term -- something to remain in everyone’s thoughts for far longer than it needed to.

“Keeping busy. Following protocol,” Pepper said.

“And you’ll let me know if anything happens. I just -- I can’t give up hope that he’s alright just out there in space. I don’t know if that’s better or worse.”

When the call ended, May dropped her phone on the kitchen counter. She was trying not to let her emotions get the better of her and yet it couldn’t be helped. It was her Peter out there in space. Or maybe he had turned to dust. Or maybe something worse had happened. Not knowing was killing her. Worse was watching the news or going online because everyone in the world was mourning someone and May didn’t know what to think anymore.

Friday played the message in the living room. Thor stood at Steve’s side and the others appeared too, putting whatever they were working on off to listen. Bruce clutched his hands together. Natasha stood with Rhodey. None of them said a word.

“I guess, I’ll get to it,” Tony said and his voice was everything. “I -- I hope this makes it to you. I don’t really know who you is or who is left. If anyone. I’m -- if you get this too late, don’t feel bad about it. This whole thing is a long shot. Part of the journey is the end and I’ve avoided my end enough times that it’s only right it catches up to me eventually.”

Tony paused and Steve was worried for a moment that it ended there. Then, Tony’s voice came back.

“We’re adrift in space. Not the kind of thing I’d consider fun especially this close to home. We’re -- we’re not going to make it. We’re out of water and food is running low. We’ll be running out of oxygen soon. I don’t know how long we have -- a few hours, maybe a whole day if we’re lucky…”

Tony trailed off again and Steve felt like he’d been punched in the gut. It wasn’t fair. Tony wasn’t supposed to...

“Steve,” Tony said.

Steve gasped.

“--if you are there. If you get this and god, I hope you get this. I love you. Peter’s gone...he turned to dust and I don’t--”

Steve could hear it in Tony’s voice. There was a slight tremor and such resigned sadness. He felt completely shocked. The only thing that kept him standing there was that the message wasn’t over.

“There was a farm I was eying up. It’s all secluded and out of the way and I wanted it to be ours. I don’t know when or...well, after all of this was over. Once we--” He coughed. “--There’s adoption papers in my lab. I -- it would have been -- Peter would have made a good big brother. I’m kind of rambling a little but I just wanted you to know I had plans and if this is it, I just...I love you. I love all of you and I hope Friday gets this message to you in time. If I -- if I drift off, I’ll be dreaming about our farm and you and Peter…”

It was a goodbye as much as it was a plea for rescue. Steve didn’t even realize he was crying until it was over and his eyes blurred. Hearing Tony’s voice was everything even if it was a goodbye.That’s all the message was and it hurt. And then there was Peter. Peter was -- Steve could barely think it. And if he felt this way, he knew it would be ten times worse on Tony. And Tony was out in space and he was running out of oxygen--

“Friday, how old is this?” Bruce asked, speaking first.

Steve waited with baited breath.

“It was transmitted a few minutes ago,” Friday said, “it was a very loose connection to a Stark Satellite that allowed the transmission.”

“He said he was close,” Bruce said.

Which meant -- could they do it? Could they rescue him and bring him home? Steve wiped away his tears.

“Is it -- can we--”

He looked towards Thor, but it was Natasha that spoke instead. “Rocket!” She said.

Rocket couldn’t have gotten far. He was already on a quinjet headed for space and it might be their only shot.

“Friday?” Steve asked.

“On it, Captain,” Friday said and on the screen a video feed came up and then a few seconds later they could see into the quinjet and at Rocket.

The camera was pointed a little too high, but they could still see the top half of Rocket’s face. Steve was still trying not to think about him as a racoon, but it was kind of hard even as he looked up.

“You guys checking in on me or something? I guess I should be touched.” Rocket kind of smirked, a weird smile with his very sharp teeth showing.

“No, Rabbit,” Thor said, “we need your help.”

“Kinda busy here,” Rocket said. “I’m leaving Earth’s atmosphere right now so…” he trailed off and then a few seconds passed. “Well, what do you want?”

Thor explained about Tony and the message and how he was in need of rescue.

“You’re kind of our only hope,” Natasha added.

“Well, when put that way,’’ Rocket said with a sigh. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you,” Steve said. “He said he’s running out of fuel and oxygen.”

Rocket grumbled something to himself but he nodded and then the video sort of shook and Steve supposed that that had something to do with leaving Earth’s atmosphere. They watched as Rocket handled the quinjet, his racoon hands touching controls and buttons without much trouble. It made Steve wonder a lot about his origins.

Suddenly, there was a loud sound like an alert, except it wasn’t what Steve was used to hearing.

“There’s -- I’m getting a distress signal,” Rocket said and he seemed to be frowning. Then, he laughed. “It’s the Benatar.” He laughed again.

“The Benatar?” Steve asked his hands were twisted together and he was having a hard time not fidgeting. It was hard not being able to do anything. He had no control here and it was driving him crazy.

Tony was adrift in space on a ship that was running out of oxygen. A talking racoon was the best option for rescue. Natasha’s hand landed on top of his, drawing his hands apart from each other. He looked down at her and she smiled slightly at him.

“My ship,” Rocket said with a grunt. “Maybe your friend met up with mine. Small universe.” The image was becoming fuzzy, static taking up part of the screen.

“Ah, the one I crashed into,” Thor said.

Rocket nodded and then the video froze.

“Must be out of range,” Bruce muttered.

The video dropped and Steve let out a breath. He didn’t know what to think or do and it was going to be a waiting game. But Tony was alive. He was alive and Rocket was going to rescue him. Steve had to believe that things were going to turn out alright.

None of them moved for a moment, but then Natasha pulled and pushed Steve to sit. They didn’t know how long it would be until Rocket got to Tony or for Rocket to return with Tony. Steve just had to believe that it was definitely going to happen.

“You know, he’s right about all the times he’s managed to survive. This is just going to be another one,” Rhodey said. Steve looked towards him and he could tell that Rhodey had let out a few tears too.

“Only Tony,” Bruce said with a small watery smile.

K-9 climbed on the couch next to Steve, head leaning into his leg. Steve pet his head and realized that Peter wouldn’t get to do that again. Peter was gone...turned to dust. Another loss. One of the worst losses.

“Steve?”

“Peter,” Steve whispered and his voice broke a little.

“I know,” Natasha said. “I know.”

It was kind of unbelievable, like Steve couldn’t imagine not having Peter around. Not having Peter come home. He was a part of the tower and their lives -- one of the best parts.

“I guess now we wait,” Natasha said.

Steve nodded. He didn’t want to think about the possibility that Rocket wouldn’t find Tony or that somehow the message had been old and he would find Tony but-- No, he had to let himself hope. Tony was going to come home and that was that. And once he did they would figure out a plan and if they couldn’t undo what Thanos had done then at least they could make sure that they avenged everyone they’d lost.

In the meanwhile, Steve wanted to hear Tony’s voice again.

“Hey, Friday, can you play the message again,” Steve said.

“Sure thing, Captain.”

Tony’s voice was a little rough, maybe from the lack of water that he mentioned or just because he was tired or too emotional. It was the sob after he mentioned Peter that made Steve’s breath catch because it was just so painful to hear. But then he talked about the farm -- that old joke because of Clint’s farm. Maybe Tony was serious, though, maybe he had been looking. Steve wouldn’t have put it past him.

It was the adoption papers that gave him pause. He hadn’t noticed it on the first listen. Tony had mentioned it once in passing but that was back when Tony hadn’t even met Peter yet. They had never spoken about it after and it was a bit of a shock and Steve didn’t know what to think. Things were different now and with Peter gone maybe it was pointless to even consider it but Tony had been thinking about it when he sent the message. It was something he wanted. Or maybe he was just being nostalgic because he thought he was dying and he was trying to say goodbye. Steve just wanted Tony back. And if their life held a farm in the future or not it didn’t matter, not as long as Steve had Tony back at his side.

Chapter One Hundred Twenty Nine

[teaandchess]

Possession (When Monsters Are Real)

Summary: As Castiel struggles with his return to Earth, the Winchesters and Meg try to cope with his melancholy and the strangeness that has accompanied him back from Heaven. Meanwhile, something has begun to slowly afflict the midwest, bringing the horrific results.

Rating: M (Note: Rated for Violence and Sex)

In the Lethe Series 3 Part 3: Possession (When Monsters Are Real)

The St. Clouds' laundromat at ten o'clock in the evening was surprisingly busy but the senior woman folding clothes at the counter thought it might have been because of the upcoming spring break. Kids, mostly those in their late teens and early twenties, were coming in with bags and bags of laundry, fighting over washers and dryers as if they were going out of style, and trying to get everything done quickly. Cindy had seen them all at one time or another during her late shifts at the laundromat, and she eyed them with some skepticism as she folded a heavy sweater. She wasn't sure what had brought them all out on a night like this. Maybe it was the full moon. Whatever the reason, they were intruding on her usually peaceful night to have them in here, and she resented them as she went about working while she did her own laundry.

Really, she thought, this place was her worst nightmare most days. If it wasn't for earning easy money doing other people's laundry, she would never step foot in here again.

A group of twenty-somethings were staggered around the few tables, exchanging barbs as they ate the crappy chicken fingers and fries that were the usual fare of the cafe that was just beside the laundromat. Cindy watched them warily as she plucked a pair of her husband's thick socks out and rolled them up together. Part of her wanted to insist they move on but they were buying things and doing laundry, and if old Steve at the cafe didn't mind them then neither did she. So she kept telling herself. It was a hard thing to keep reminding herself of.

"Darn kids," she muttered as a couple of the college kids went shoving by her with their carts towards the row of drying machines. Watching them as carefully as she was, she was surprised to see one of the boys, a tall lanky kid with red hair, was watching the laundry spin slowly in lazy circles within the dryer. His eyes followed it and eventually so did his entire head, until he looked a little like an owl trying to watch its prey. It went on for over a minute and she was tired just watching him even from the corner of her eye. So she stopped and concentrated on folding.

The cottons done, Cindy muttered to herself again as she plunked her laundry bucket down in the cart and began to wheel it back towards the dryers for her next load. The boy still stood there, watching the dryers as if they had hypnotized him. She parked herself right beside him and stared suspiciously up into his handsome young face.  He didn't seem to notice her and when she reached out and snapped her fingers several times before his face he didn't flinch.

"Hey, kid," she said, trying to sound strict.

He didn't look away from the dryer. His head kept its odd waggling motion and he rocked from side to side, his body slowly getting into the rhythm of what his head was doing.

"Hey!" she said, reaching out to shake his shoulder.

"I can't do that," he whispered, his eyes widening until they resembled saucers. They were so dilated that the black seemed to overwhelm his entire eye. "No, I can't do that!"

"What the heck is wrong with you?" she asked, snapping her fingers again to try to get his attention. The boy shrugged her off.

"I can't do that!" he shouted and he suddenly retreated, holding his head in his hands. "Please don't make me do that."

Cindy whistled and shook her head. Wouldn't surprise her if the kid was stoned out of his mind, they did tend to come in like that during these late night sessions with the laundry machines. Rolling her eyes, she began to retrieve her delicates from the top dryer in the row and threw them haphazard into the basket cart.

Then she felt it.

It was like a little niggle at the back of her mind. A push. A prompt. The strangest feeling of being told, prompted, to do something. She stared stupidly at the dryer, at the mound of clothes waiting for her.

What was she supposed to do? There was something she was supposed to do.

Puzzled, she began to clean the dryer out bit by bit, plopping silk shirts and underwear into the basket one by one, folding as she went.

What was she going to do?

She could have sworn she felt something push at her then and she turned to look left and right. The laundromat had gone eerily quiet now and she wondered what had caused it. The teenagers were all staring at their phones and the boy she'd seen at the dryers was curled beneath the folding counter, holding his head and rocking back and forth.

He looked as if he had seen something horrific in the dryer and that, well, that was just ridiculous. Shaking her head, she looked back around at the dryer she was cleaning out.

The push came again and suddenly a brilliant, wonderful idea came to her mind.

"Oh right," she said, nodding to herself in a satisfied way. "That is what I'm supposed to do. Of course. Thank you."

The niggling wasn't stopping.

She cleared out the dryer completely and, with a happy smile on her face, put her hand on the metal inner surface. It was still so hot to the touch that her skin prickled. Still smiling, she then began to remove her clothes, not caring who might see her.  Sweater first, shoes and socks, t-shirt and pants in quick order, then followed her underpants. She stood stark naked surrounded by the teenagers but no one seemed to notice, no one seemed to really care. Stretching her arms out to the side, she sighed happily before she reached into her discarded pants for her money. She slammed the dryer door shut and put a few quarters in the coin slot, setting the timer for sixty minutes and the pre-heat on for high. The sort to dry things quickly. She watched as the counter ticked down and when two minutes of pre-heat had passed, she popped the door open to be greeted by a piping hot blast of air.

Oh that felt so good, she thought. She had felt so cold, standing naked like this in the air-conditioned, and the hot air drafted over her goose-pimpled skin in welcome gusts.

The niggling became a mental push then. She felt it hard and insistent at the back of her mind.

Do it.

The boy had stopped his muttering under the counter and was staring at her. She met his eyes through the reflection in the glass dryer door and shuddered at the look in his eye. He removed his hands from his head and stared at her very hard. Then he stood and walked toward her and as if walking slow motion, in a dream, she met him half-way. His arms went around her naked, saggy body and held her close and she clung to him, spindly arms wrapping around his neck.

"So blessed," he whispered into her hair, stroking her naked body.

Sniffling, she raised her head and beamed at him. "I know."

He cupped her face between his hands, looked deep into her eyes and then kissed her. What a sight, Cindy thought, a woman in her late sixties kissing such a boy. But oh she felt something then that she hadn't felt since she had been a teenager herself. The kiss was pure chaste softness, so clean she nearly felt washed afresh. It felt wonderful. When he broke the kiss, he rested his forehead against hers and breathed out a long, sweet smelling blast of air that she inhaled deeply and felt immediately refreshed. The hands on her face let her go and she smiled up into his young face and wished she was at least forty years younger.

But he didn't seem to care.

"I will pray for you," he said and he held her hand, lifting it up like a dancer about to ask her for a round.

Still smiling as if the entire world was being offered to her, she accepted his help as she stepped around her cart of laundry.

With him boosting her from behind, it was easy for her to get into the dryer.  She felt the metal sizzling into her flesh but didn't stop smiling as she watched the boy. He slammed the glass door shut and changed the settings to run the dry on high heat for as long as it would take.

As long as it would take to cook her.

Cindy never stopped smiling.

#

There was something wrong with Castiel. After his plummeting fall to Earth from the Heavens, he wasn't the same. They could all tell, the Winchesters, the prophet and the demon. There was a distance that hadn't been there in a long time, something that kept him distant and aloof. It was a nearly tangible distance between him and the others, as if the angel was now what he had been four, six years ago.

They all wondered if there was something he had seen that had made him this way.

Dean and Sam tried to figure out what was wrong by the act of leaving him alone and watching him. He would sit, bundled up in blankets and staring out the windows of the safe house, for hours on end. His silence was eerie. Both brothers noticed, as did Kevin, that the faint undercurrent of blood and smoke seemed to follow him wherever he went. He hadn't showered and hadn't used his angelic powers to replenish himself, to ease the odour that reeked from him. His Grace was never touched that they could see. Without using it on that instinctive level, Castiel quickly took on a lean and gaunt look within the span of a week of staying at the safe house. His eyes had deep, purple shadows beneath them and his skin seemed grey and pulled tight over his bones. He looked, Dean once said, as if he had a major case of the flu.

No one felt this change in Castiel more acutely than Meg or Nyx.

The little girl tried to cuddle and care for her father, in her way. The only way that a child could care for an angelic father. She ignored that he didn't seem to react to her, that he seemed to be trying to protect her by keeping that distance between them. She would sit with him and chatter to him but his unresponsiveness confused her. She would even go so far as to act as naughty as possible to get him to react to her.

Nothing. No prank, no joke, no teasing. Nothing seemed to get a rise out of Castiel.

He would stare listlessly out the window even when Nyx snuggled into his side, when once before he might have cuddled her in return. Castiel's lack of response to even his daughter troubled the Winchesters and Kevin as they went about an uneasy existence in the safe house. It wasn't built for so many people and it only took the week before they were starting to snip at one another. But no one was willing to leave while Castiel remained so changed. Castiel seemed to be stuck in a moment none of them could understand.

Meg was the only one to appear to have an inkling as to what was going on. But even she seemed unable to draw Castiel out. It reminded her of the time she had been yanked from the Lethe and Meg found the parallel she could draw so easily between the situations very uncomfortable.

"He's...different. Troubled," she explained to Dean and Sam. "Whatever happened jarred him. It is like he's been shaken up."

To which Dean figured was an understatement and often said so. He, like Sam, had taken to watching Meg as closely as they did Castiel. Not because of any concern that she was about to slip into this grave morbid attitude. No. It was because something about her story about waiting for their call seemed untrue. They watched and waited to see if maybe she was going to slip up and tell them exactly what was going on.

Meg cared less about the Winchesters and more about Castiel. She had thought it was shock but now she wasn't so sure. He would follow her with his eyes whenever she stepped into the room where he lurked. Only she couldn't tell what it was in his eyes. Accusation? Hunger? Something hot and furious seemed to cross his face whenever he looked at her. It was the one time his emotions seemed to overcome whatever it was that locked him up so tight.

It made her wonder what exactly he had seen in Heaven and it made her very careful when before she had been starting to get careless. Now she kept to the safe house and ignored the messages, the persistent calls. She cared for Nyx and tried to ensure that her house wasn't torn apart by the Winchesters as the week passed into two and if it wasn't for Kevin's presence she likely would have killed them both anyway.

Kevin didn't dream, not that any of them knew. He kept to himself except for mealtimes and when Nyx went to find him. He seemed to be troubled, not so deeply as Castiel but in his own, typically Kevin way. He had a sly way of handling Meg and Nyx both when the fights between the Winchesters and Meg got out of hand by using the most inane tactics. He would start to talk loudly and make such light of the situation that they had nothing else they could do but separate and stew.

By the time the second week was was beginning, Meg grew frustrated enough to leave the safe house with Dean for a shopping trip. Castiel had spent hours wrapped up in just a pair of flannel pants and t-shirt topped with two or three blankets, as if he couldn't get warm, and she needed to find him something to wear if they were about to travel. Every instinct was telling her that that was going to happen and she wanted to be prepared for it. She grabbed button downs and slacks and then went in search of something she saw as crucial to Castiel's very character.

She saw exactly what she wanted in one of the more expensive mens stores and, as Dean did his best to coerce the pretty girl behind the counter to get a drink with him, she stole it.

She almost had a hesitation about stealing it when she considered who she was stealing for but then dismissed that hesitation as stupid. Castiel had never minded her stealing before, she didn't see why it would matter now as she indiscreetly teleported to the parking lot. Dean must have noticed her absence because it was only seconds before he stormed out of the store, casting quick glances over his shoulder as if he expected to be chased down himself.

Meg stood, smug as a cat, and grinned at him as he tossed the bag he had purchased into the trunk of the Impala.

"Did you have to do that? You freaked out two old men. I thought you guys were going to be discreet," Dean snapped.

"You mean the ones who kept staring at my boobs? They deserved it."

Dean huffed. "You better have a good reason for doing that. I was just about to get...to get...oh what's her name...the woman's number and you went and blitzed out like a mini-tornado. I hope it was worth it."

"Castiel needs new threads. I'm sick of him living like he belongs in a retirement home." Meg shook her head. "Aren't you?"

"He seems to be comfier that way," Dean defended and Meg shot him a look.

"Seriously? Castiel needs to snap out of it and we both know it."

"He's seen something, you said so yourself." Dean jerked his chin at her cradled arms. "What's that?"

She unfurled the material, revealing a long black overcoat, and he stared, mildly impressed. "Looks like his old one."

Meg turned the black overcoat this way and that. "This colour will be sexier on him though," she said and Dean made a face.

"I think I preferred tan."

"Why, did you think that was sexier?" she teased and he rolled his eyes.

"Not really. Are you trying to jog his memories or something?"

"No. Just know you guys will want to leave and something tells me you want him with you."

Dean looked uncomfortable. "You picked that up, eh?"

She sneered. "I'm a smart cookie, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember."

"Which means where Clarence goes, Nyx will be going."

"And you."

She blinked rapidly. "Oh, yeah of course."

Dean's frown turned to a suspicious look. "You know, Meg, whatever you're hiding..."

"Me? Hide?" She tried for innocence.

"We've trusted you so far. You might want to ask yourself if it is worth it, losing that trust," he warned and she put a hand to her chest, eyes wide.

"Oh, losing the Winchesters' trust. However shall I survive without that?" Meg asked, fluttering her eyelashes. Dean's suspicious look didn't falter and she rolled her eyes. "We're not friends, Dean, why bother pretending?"

"Because Cas is family which means whatever makes him happy, and I can't believe I'm saying this, makes us happy. For some reason, you made him happy."

Meg huffed. "Don't mistake peaceful for happy, Deano. That's like saying being in the Lethe was my happiest time."

"I think Cas makes you happy." He turned away and unlocked the passenger door on the Impala and then moved around to the driver side. "Despite what you're trying to say."

Meg considered that. "Define happy."

"You love him. He loves you." He pointed at her over the top of the car. "Which, by the way, still gives me the squicks."

"Love when you talk like you're Nyx's age."

Dean sighed. "Just admit he makes you happy. For a demon."

"Maybe he does." She tossed the coat in the backseat over the bags she and Dean had managed to fill in the grocery shop with enough food to last another week. "But you know and I know being happy doesn't last for people like us."

"People?" he chided as he dropped into the driver seat. Meg scooted into the passenger seat and eyed him.

"Fine. Demons like me and weirdos like you."

"I think you mean handsome men like me."

"Whatever." She gestured at the parking lot. "Take me home to my special case, would you? We have to make sure the safe house is in one solid piece still. Nyx is going stir crazy and your little brother isn't much different."

Dean made a face. "Babysitting. Not what I intended when I came back to Colorado."

"Welcome to my world, Deano. It's a ride."

#

The demons parked outside the laundromat was confused. Not that confusion was something entirely new to them. The past year and a half had been spent in a second Hell of confusion. Now these new orders had come in and the two in the old sedan didn't like them one bit. They had been told to keep an eye on strange occurrences happening in the midwest, to track any signs of oddities that cropped up here and there, and they thought it was beneath them. They should be up here, making with the possessions and deals for souls; in general, creating havoc. But no. Not tonight. Tonight they were stuck in a Minnesota town of all places and there was really nothing more boring than Minnesota to the demons in the sedan.

"This is Hell," the demon Danny moaned as he leaned back in his seat and popped open his bottle of beer. He chugged it down halfway and then belched loudly. "I mean, we've got a basis of comparison, I know, but this is worse than anything Vetis came up with. Almost as bad as Alastair's worst attempts, am I right?"

Beside him, the female demon groaned. "I miss Perth. Least it was warm."

"Not my fault you let that boy slip through your fingers, Rae."

"Yeah, yeah, shut it, Danny. What the hell were they thinking? Sending us black-eyes to capture a Cambion? They'd have been sending a Knight or one of the royalty of Hell. Not there are many of those left." She huffed and looked out the window, trying to dismiss all thoughts of Cambions, Knights and Hellish royalty. The neon signs were flicking violently around the storefronts and she pointed a perfectly manicured nail at the laundromat. "All that energy we felt earlier is coming from there."

"Wonder what's going on. It says it is open late but it is pretty dark in there," Danny pointed out. "Well, except for the signs that keep doing that thing they do. Could be because of us, you know."

The way he spoke made Rae look uncomfortable. "Okay, in what way does this seem right?"

The other demon shot her a look over the neon glow of the console dash. "Say again?"

"This is, like, hunter work, Danny. This isn't demon work. What the hell are the higher ups thinking?" She flicked her fingers and her power surged outward. It shattered the streetlamp overhead but the tinkling sound of the glass falling to the concrete didn't improve her mood at all.

"I think you'd do better than to question the ones above us. I mean, can you imagine saying 'Hey, this is stupid, what gives?' to anyone in charge?"

"Nah, come on. We've spent years with management changing hands. Why can't I say anything?"

"This one isn't like Crowley. This one is pretty old, word has it just wants things done, but I doubt this ruler won't tolerate us fooling around. Crowley let us get away with murder as long as we could make our numbers. Now? We take orders, we don't give 'em." Danny took another long pull of his beer. "I know better than to question authority. I did it once under Crowley and I spent four hundred years back in the Pit for my trouble. And I am never going back there except in my worst nightmare. I can just see my heart outside my body again if Vetis gets his way."

"Legion is still fighting the yoke," she pointed out. As if that mattered. Legion was a league outside of the both of them. Legion was practically a legend to the demons.

"Legion is ancient compared to us. There's no wonder about that," he said.

"But I want to fight," Rae protested. "I'm so good at that!"

He laughed. "Come on, we're born to fight, remember?" Danny said with a grin. "Or do you forget that? You're not that original." He cranked his seat back and lay back. "We're just here to sit and watch. Punishment for not finding that damned boy."

"Ugh, but it is so boring," she whined.

"You're boring," he grumbled back. They sat in silence for a while and stared at the dark laundromat. Nothing moved in or out of it. The darkness seemed to be lasting, all except for the neon open sign that flickered in spasms. Danny propped his head up on his arm and looked at the demon beside him, her profile stern and focussed solely on the laundromat. "Seem weird to you that it is that quiet?"

"Everything seems weird about this." She made a face. "God, I feel like a hunter and that is so disgusting."

"Feeling all matter of dirty?" he asked with a waggle of his brown bushy brows. She grinned back and set her own beer bottle into the cup holder. They both knew where this was going and they were bored enough to put off the discomfort of their surroundings for a few minutes.

"Maybe."

She slid one long leg over the console and moved up into his lap. He groaned in pleasure as she ground down against him, her long blonde hair swinging into his face as she bent to kiss him. They groaned in unison as she began to rock atop him and his arms swung around her, forcing her hips into a slow grind with his own. When she bit into his lower lip, he growled and she snarled at him, rearing backward to show him her black eyes. His own flicked to onyx and he bared his teeth in an animalistic snarl at her. She giggled like a little teenager and rocked recklessly on his lap, reaching up to draw her shirt up over her head. Danny moaned and pushed up in his seat to cup her breasts, drawing her down toward him so he could put his face against the silk of her bra. Her hands were travelling all over his body, hot and demanding.

When they kissed again, it was with the raw angry need of demonic power and neither could find the will to pull away. Danny grasped handfuls of her blonde hair and tugged so hard that she squealed and ground down harder against him. They began to claw and bite at one another. An unanswerable hunger brewed inside them both, to cling to the darkness they both loved, and the only one to sate that desire for them was one another.

Maybe. Demons were fickle, after all, Rae considered even as she reached around to pop the clasp on her bra. She threw it over the headrest and brought Danny's face against her breasts, trying to lead him to what she wanted. He simply continued to kiss and bite at her throat with a demand she enjoyed.

Mid-kiss, Danny felt it first. The sensation of someone pushing at him to do something a little more. But Rae felt it harsher and more insistent from her rocking perch on his lap. She suddenly wanted more, so much more, and Danny she could feel wanted as much as he did.

"Mm, what do you want?" he groaned against her neck as they fought for control and she trembled in his arms.

"More," she begged. Her nails dug into his chest. "Come on, more. Give me more."

Her head bent and she caught his lips with hers. They continued to bite at one another, lips swelling and tongues dancing. The demons didn't care about the laundromat anymore. Caught up in their sinful lust, they rubbed and tangled with one another until their skin was hot and they seemed ready to topple over into the backseat completely. Reaching between them, Rae unbuttoned Danny's shirt and spread her fingers flat over his chest.

"You want this, don't you?" she purred against his mouth and he nodded enthusiastically as he reached up and tried to grasp her breasts. She traced her fingers over his small flat nipple and then down to his solar plexus, where her nails dragged just a little.

"Yes," he breathed. "I want this."

She giggled again, covering his mouth with a hand. "Good."

With that, she slammed her entire hand into his chest and ripped his heart out. His ribs cracked open and spread in response to the damage she did as she dug deeper and deeper. Until Rae took hold of the beating muscle and wrenched it delicately from its cradle. A strange power seemed to flood her then and she focussed it on the demon below her. The demon stared up at her in complete euphoria as she held the still beating heart up. Orange sparks flooded the demon's skin and Danny threw his head back and let out an orgasmic groan that was more death rattle than a plea for more. Rae cuddled the heart for a moment, murmuring to it, and then put it back in the spread rib cage. Smiling to herself, she leaned down and cuddled the lifeless corpse below her. She reached into his jacket pocket and found his wicked looking hunting knife.

Rae grinned and sat back on Danny's motionless lap, pulling the knife from the scabbard with slow deliberation.

"Now let me see if I can remember how to do this just right..."

#

Meg had little patience at the best of times and dealing with Castiel during this time was not her forte. She came into the safe house with Dean, saw the angel standing at the large front window staring up at the sky, and threw the bag holding his clothes to the floor. He didn't look away, merely shrugged the sound off by adjusting the blankets around his shoulders. He looked like he was lost just staring out the window.

But she saw how his eyes darted to her reflection and stared at her with an openness that belied how he really felt.

"You need to change," she said in a blunt, firm tone that would take no argument. When he didn't answer, she threw her keys on the side table and stepped over Kevin's outstretched legs. The blind prophet was always deceptively quiet and only stayed grinning slyly. When Dean came in, he too seemed content to let her take the lead here. Meg didn't care; she approached Castiel with a casual swagger that meant trouble. "Castiel, did you hear me?"

He turned his head a little and looked at her from the corner of his eye.

"Dean wants to go to the bunker. If you don't say anything, I'm going to tie you to the Cougar's roof and you can ride up in the rain for all I care," she snapped.

"Meg, this really isn't the best move," Sam said as he came into the room, cradling a few mugs of coffee. He handed one to Kevin. "He's not in the mood to talk."

"Mood is for kids. He needs to talk and we need to know what happened. Now." Meg approached the angel. "Look at me."

Reluctantly, he turned his head and fixed his eyes on her. Meg reached out and grasped the blanket edges. He was dressed in pants but not much else and she could feel the heat of his skin beneath the protection of the blanket. "We need you, Clarence. And you need us."

He parted his lips to speak, thought it over, then turned his head the other way. Meg reached out and grasped his jaw in her hand, turning his head forcefully toward her. "You saw something in Heaven. It's fucked with your head and I get that, but you're doing more damage acting like this than not, so wake the hell up."

Those blue eyes shone with wariness. "Please," he whispered.

Meg saw the desperation in him and nearly asked Dean and the others to leave so Castiel could fix on her but something warned her that might be a bad move. Castiel might be dangerously unstable now for all she knew and he might accidentally smite her if she wasn't careful.

"Where's Nyx?" she asked instead and his eyes darted to Sam.

The Winchester sat beside his brother and Kevin on the couch. "Upstairs having a nap. She was...upset earlier."

Meg didn't look away from Castiel. "You're hurting her. You promised me you would never hurt her."

He flinched. "I'm trying to understand what I saw."

The way he blurted that out and then slumped made it seem that the simple act of talking had exhausted him. Meg let her fingers soften on his jaw and she stepped close. The rancid sweat smell on him made her wrinkle her nose but she persisted, instead stroking his face with her thumb.

"Clarence, come back to me. Come on. What did you see?"

"The Fates showed me...everything that could be. In a thousand worlds." He shook his head a little and sighed. Meg nearly gagged at the copper heavy smell of his breath. "I saw your death, Meg. And Dean and Sam's."

"We're still here, buddy," Dean said and the angel shuddered at the sound of his voice.

"I saw everything and nothing all at once." He shook his head. "I don't understand what I saw."

"That was it?" Sam asked.

Castiel's eyes didn't leave Meg's and she felt for a moment like she was drowning in the blue of those eyes. She stopped stroking his cheek. "Castiel, what was it?"

"What have you done?" he whispered and she took a step back.

"What's he talking about?" Dean asked.

"Nothing," Meg snapped. She reached up and ran her hands through her hair. "So Cas saw the future and it was bleak. Big f'ing surprise."

"Can't believe I'm going to say this but Meg has a point," he said. Sam looked at Dean in surprise and the elder brother shrugged. "When hasn't our future been bleak?"

"Good point."

Kevin stirred on the couch. "I never saw your futures that way."

"These were visions direct-lined by Fate?" Dean asked Castiel and the angel nodded. "Maybe God has a different version."

"Like Cliff's Notes?" Kevin asked in return and the two brothers chuckled. Meg sighed and the prophet swung his head toward her. "Though your future never came up either."

"I was lucky to be alive years ago. Remember?" She pointed at herself for the benefit of those who could see. "Touched by a god and raised by an angel."  She sneered at Dean. "We've got that in common, sweetheart."

He shuddered. "Gross."

"So, Cas," Sam said, ignoring the two of them, "this whole while has just has been you trying to cope? Why didn't you talk to us before? Why now? Is it because of Meg?"

The angel was quiet for a long time, plucking at the edge of his blanket. When he seemed to recover his senses, he started to remove the blankets from his back one by one. As he did, he spoke, "When I was in Heaven, the Fates were manipulated by the spirits of the Three Horsemen."

"The Horsemen? Wait... apocalypse Horsemen? We took care of them, remember?" Dean demanded.

Castiel stared at him.

"You can't destroy a belief," Kevin said for the angel. "Who was left again?"

"War, Famine, Pestilence. Who knows where Death was but he never seemed part of that group. Not in the way we understood."

"So what happened? The Fates fight back?" Sam paused on his questions when he noticed Meg was looking more frustrated than confused. She had one hand stuffed in her pant pocket and he could have sworn he'd seen the glow of a phone screen peek out.

"They were cast out of Heaven," Castiel explained. He paused and then blurt out, "By God."

"Wait, you saw God? The last time we thought we seen God was...man, the Lethe. When we all got thrown there," Sam said. "Was Sheol there?"

Meg made a sound but Castiel shook his head.

"So what happened? God showed up, tossed the Fates out on their ear and I suspect saved the day, since we're all still here," Dean said.

As they all watched, Castiel seemed to crumple within. He clutched the last blanket close to his chest and shuddered. "I don't remember."

Meg stepped close to him again, so that her shoulder bumped his. "Clarence, you have to know something," she began but he backed away from her.

"I said I don't remember," he snapped and she blinked at the sharpness of his tone.  She looked over her shoulder at Dean but the hunter was focussed on his brother who was trying to sort it out himself.

Biting into her lower lip, Meg turned back to Castiel. "You were covered in blood when you came out of Heaven. Was it yours? You never let us wash it off you," she pointed out. "Are you still sticky with it?"

She took hold of the blanket and before he could stop her she stripped it from his shoulders. The sight of him made all of them, save Kevin, gasp. His lean body was even more gaunt than before with the lack of care he'd given his vessel but its thin muscling wasn't what made them stare. It was the bloodstained skin and the long strips of white scars. New scars that shone silver in the dim light. They looked like vicious claw marks that had been raked down his entire torso.

Startled, Meg reached out and ignored his flinching to lay her palm flat on his skin. The indenture of three crossed scars was deep in the gouges, and she felt his skin prickling beneath her fingers. The scars began to quiver and she stared in surprise as the silver began to blacken. It coursed through his torso until his body seemed rippled by black ink.

"Jesus, Cas," Dean said, "what the hell happened to you?"

The angel didn't answer, instead staring at Meg as she traced each scar with her fingertip. Her nose wrinkled again as she inhaled and she looked up at him. He seemed ready to say something more but Meg decided to stop him before he said something they both regretted.

"You stink," she offered. "Go take a shower while we decide what we're going to do."

"I don't need to shower," he began but she rocked up on her toes to stare him in the eye.

"Go. Shower and try to feel better."

His eyes flickered to the Winchesters and Kevin. "Fine."

Like a petulant child, he stalked off to the stairs and jogged up the steps with hard thumps that let them know his mood about this. Meg sighed and stared after him for a while before she looked back at Sam. She ignored Dean.

"He's not himself."

"Whatever he saw," Sam explained, "it's affected him."

"If we can get him just talking, that's half the battle," she explained and Dean nodded. It was Kevin who answered.

"I think Cas was scared."

"What could scare an angel? An angel like Cas who has seen it all?" Sam asked.

"Anything old. Very old," Kevin said. "Older than the angels."

"What, Leviathan?"

Meg sighed and reached up to rub the back of her neck. "They're in Purgatory, aren't they?"

"What if the infection has gone to Heaven?" Dean tried and they all looked at him curiously. He looked uncomfortably aware that he'd said something rather stupid. "Never mind. Stupid thought."

"Maybe not," Sam said to try to ease the sting of it. "It is possible something got into Heaven, isn't it?"

They began to debate back and forth about it but Meg stared up the hallway stairs for a moment. The answer was upstairs and hopefully showering.

"Cas knows," she said.

"But he says he doesn't remember."

"There's spells for that," Sam began but Dean shook his head.

"We're not about to start casting spells on Castiel," he stated firmly and Meg sighed. She agreed but it hurt to have to agree with a Winchester like this but he had a point. Who knew what a spell  could do to an angel?

Kevin's head suddenly turned toward Sam. "Your phone is ringing."

Sam frowned and looked down at his pants. He squirmed and retrieved the vibrating phone, frowning at it.

"Who is it?" Dean asked.

"Kris." Sam swiped it on and held the phone to his ear. "Yeah? Yeah. Yeah, we're both here. What's up?"

His face suddenly went slack. "He said his name was what?"

Dean and Meg looked at one another.

Sam suddenly nodded. "We'll get back as soon as we can. Are you scheduled for a hunt, right? The vamp nest that's infected? Good. Take care."

He hung up and looked at Dean. "That was Krissy. Said that a boy showed up on the door step of the bunker and demanded to see us."

Meg smirked. "Sowed one too many wild oats, Dean?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "No." Then his eyes widened. "I mean...no...right, Sam?"

Sam gave Meg a dirty look for doing that and instead focussed on Dean. "Said his name was Jesse."

"Doesn't ring a bell," Dean said.

"Turner. Jesse Turner," Sam prompted and at Dean's blank look he sighed. "Dean, years ago in Nebraska?"

"Oh god, Nebraska," Kevin muttered but Sam ignored him.

"We met someone very special. Someone that..." He looked uncomfortable. "Was sort of like Nyx."

"Nephilim?" Meg asked, confused. "Cas says they were almost extinct except for a few here and there."

"No, he wasn't a nephilim." Sam took a breath. "Meg, what do you remember about the plans Lucifer had regarding an AntiChrist?"

"Little. I stayed away from that side of things. Wasn't my bag," she said.

"We met Jesse Turner in Nebraska. He was an innocent but his powers..."

"Wait, you mean, Jesse...the Cambion?"

Meg looked between the two men. "You let a Cambion live? You big softies."

"He was innocent," Sam insisted.

"We let Nyx live," Dean pointed out and she gave him a vicious grin.

"Try to get to my kid through me. I dare you," she challenged and he put his hands in the air.

"I'm just saying."

"Anyway!" Sam interrupted. "Jesse has shown up and wants us there."

"Why doesn't he come here?" Dean asked and Meg bristled a little.

To soothe her, Sam spoke first, "Do you really want him knowing where the safe house is?"

Dean winced. "Yeah good point. So what do we do?"

"Go back home I guess."

Kevin stirred on the couch from where he'd been listening. "Cas has to go too."

"What? Why?"

Meg had the eeriest feeling that the prophet was actually looking at her. "Because he does. What if he starts remembering?" Kevin explained.

"Then Meg calls us."

"Meg has her own life to lead," Kevin said and she snorted. "Or am I wrong?"

Sam looked at Meg with so much suspicion she had to turn away to look fully at Kevin. "I have no life, kiddo. It is all me and the family, remember?"

"Right," Kevin said but his grumpy tone belied how he truly felt.

Sam didn't look any less suspicious. "Meg, maybe it wouldn't hurt. If Cas saw something happen, then we need to know what it was."

"Sure thing. And what exactly are you two dorks going to do about it if he did see something?" Meg challenged. The two brothers looked uncomfortable. "That's what I thought."

"Look, whatever Castiel saw and doesn't remember, then we need to figure it out. For God's sake he fell from Heaven we think. Still an angel but he was covered in scratches and blood," Dean said. "That has never been a good sign."

"No," Kevin agreed. "So what could it hurt to take Castiel with you?"

Sam made a frown and nodded. "All right."

"So what do Nyx and I do? Just let you take him?" Meg asked.

Dean grinned. "Oh no, Meg, you two will come with us. I want you where I can keep an eye on you." Sam's gaze swung to Dean and he raised both eyebrows. They shared a long look and then Dean looked at Meg. "We clear?"

She bared her teeth a little. "Crystal, Deano. You still don't trust me."

"Trust has nothing to do with it."

Sam leaned forward. "Meg, maybe it is best you come with us. I mean, I get the feeling something is going to go down."

She made a face. "Like what?"

"Something bad. I can feel it." Dean eyed his brother and Sam flustered a little. "I mean, it is just a feeling."

"Sure," Meg said, looking just as distrusting as Dean. "Fine. Whatever. Where the angel goes I go, I get it. Nyx will want to be around her dad."

The two brothers began to eye her with matching looks that set her teeth on edge. "Stop staring at me like that."

"Meg, what's going on?" Sam said.

It was Kevin who saved her. "We should call Benny and Liz to let them know we're coming. Benny might have some insight to this Jesse character."

"Who's telling Cas?" Meg asked and Dean shrugged. "Fine. I'll go get my baby bird before he breaks a wing."

As she left, she was aware of both men beginning to mutter between themselves. Likely about her, if she knew the Winchesters.

Not that she cared, she told herself as she climbed the stairs, grabbing the new coat on her way. She could hear the shower running but she stopped outside Nyx's door.  The sight of the lump in the bed made her grin. Nyx was reading aloud beneath her blankets, a flashlight glowing, and she knew that there was no point in telling her not to. Nyx loved her books. Like her father, Meg knew as she closed the door and headed down the hall.

Pushing open the bathroom door, she waved a hand to get rid of the steam before she closed it behind herself and set the coat on the sink. For a moment she thought it over and then locked the door to guarantee Nyx didn't come in. Satisfied, she closed the toilet lid and took a seat. The water was running loud and after a minute her temper go the better of her.

She yanked the curtain back and exposed Castiel to the steamy air. He jumped and spun around, staring at her with open surprise. She took in his naked body with open interest and lust. He was drenched in soap and hot water, smelling far better than before. Meg let her eyes roam over him and she arched an eyebrow.

"So. Couldn't use your powers huh to get clean?" she asked. He cupped his hands over his groin and she reached out, forcing him to expose himself. The sight of the scars that curved down over his hips made her shake her head. "What happened to you?"

"I can't talk about it," he said, turning away to rinse off.

"Well, are you done moping?" she demanded.

He squeezed his hands into fists. "Meg, I...I don't remember but I know that what happened to me  reached inside me and twisted my Grace."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't feel right. I feel as if my powers are no longer under my control." He gestured over his shoulder. "That's why I'm showering."

"Good thing, you reeked like the backside of a werewolf." She smiled at him and stood up. "Dean and I bought you some clothes. New coat too. I think you'll like it."

The change in conversation made him turn a little toward her.

"Meg..."

"Clarence, I..." She sighed and came to the edge of the high tub. "Okay, look. You and I both know I'm not good with the touchy feely things. It isn't like me to... care. Not like this."

He watched her warily, setting the washcloth on the edge. "Meg, I know."

"No I don't think you get it. I mean, I know you need time and I know I should back away but, Cas," she sighed again and reached out to lay her hand flat on his wet chest, "I couldn't find you for a month. A month." Her fingers started to curl on his skin. "Clarence, I thought you had left me. And there was nothing I could do."

"Meg." He reached out and pushed her hair out of her face. "I told you I would come back for you."

She closed her eyes. "The way you've been looking at me says otherwise."

"I saw thousands of futures. I saw you die before my eyes so many times that reality just...stopped." He cupped her cheek and her eyes opened again to see his eyes had darkened. "I wasn't even sure you all were real when I fell to Earth again."

"I'm alive and I'm here," she answered. "Don't I feel real to you?"

She looked down between them and grinned at what she found responding to her touches.

"Apparently I do."

He opened his mouth to answer and she shifted up on her toes, mouth finding his with a brisk kiss. Castiel groaned and gripped her by the arms, pulling her forward. Meg struggled out of her jacket and tossed it over the sink before letting Castiel lift her into the tub with him. Castiel whispered her name and backed her into the wall along the length of the tub, lifting her up by the thighs so that she could wrap her legs around his hips. When she was safely propped up, he smoothed her dampening hair out of her eyes and stared into her face.

"I missed you," he whispered. "I spent a month trapped in Heaven thinking I'd never see you again."

Meg murmured his name. "Hell, show me then. Show me you're still you, Clarence."

He bent his head and kissed her hard, fingers tangling in her dark hair and forcing her head to tilt backward. Meg took him deep into her mouth, tightening her thighs around his waist when she felt him against the ridge of her jeans. Castiel ground against her from below and she kissed him back as harsh as he kissed her, tongue toying with his and her fingers raking through his soaked hair. She moaned when he broke the kiss and began to kiss down her neck, while between them she popped the button on her jeans. Her legs fell from his waist and he pulled back, watching as she wriggled out of the soaked clothing. When she was naked as he, Meg turned to the shower-head and turned it full blast onto them, the hot stream making her skin prickle. She grinned up at him and put her hands back on his shoulders.

Without a word, he boosted her up into his arms and his hand drifted down her ass to delve between her legs. His mouth planted on her neck and he began to lick and bite at the curve of her throat. Meg let her hands wander down his body, feeling the thinness that had begun to show and she raked her nails over his skin, causing welts to raise. His muscles flexed and she realized he wasn't going to heal them right away as he usually did when she left marks.

She was about to say something when the hand between her legs slid two fingers deep inside of her and began a slow, arduous thrusting pattern that made her breath stutter out of her. Meg gasped and threw her head back, feeling his scruffy face rubbing against her skin as he rested his forehead against her neck while continuing to toy with her. Arching her back, she rocked her hips in time with his fingers, feeling the pounding of water on her skin matching the increasing strength of his hand. Castiel groaned again and took a nip of her skin. Then, all too quickly, his hand slipped free of her heat and she found herself feeling utterly empty.

On the edge, she opened her eyes and gave him a look to speak volumes. Castiel stared back at her and with his still warm fingers he pushed her hair from her eyes. His skin glistened like hers did with the water and she wriggled her hips impatiently, hoping he'd get the hint. But Castiel only stared at her, even as the water turned so cold that her nipples hardened to painful points in response, and his expression seemed almost earnest.

"What?" she panted, groaning as the icy water on her breasts brought a pleasurable ache between her legs.

"Meg, I love you...." He shuddered. "I don't say it as often as I should, I believe."

"Why say something I already know?" Frustrated that he wasn't going to continue, she reached down and grasped him with a hand. He gasped and rocked forward, thrusting into her grip and Meg caught his lips again with hers. He broke the kiss quickly.

"I nearly was killed," he said with a hunted look upon his face. "Meg, I nearly didn't tell you when I left..."

"You love me," she said firmly. "I know. Trust me."

Something in him shuttered up a little, puzzling her. "Trust you," he echoed.

"Yeah, trust me," she whispered as she leaned forward as far as she could and took his earlobe into her mouth. She nibbled and sucked as he trembled against her, his firm body sliding seductively against hers even in the cold water as his arms hooked beneath her thighs. Meg let go of his earlobe long enough to whisper, "Remember, Clarence? I told you on that beach..."

The remembrance of those words, of her choosing him, had Castiel reacting how Meg had wanted him to. He turned his head and crushed her lips to his, the hands holding her thighs wide as he supported her while he thrust deep inside her. Meg threw her head back and let out an agonized groan of pleasure as he seemed to grind deeper inside of her. Castiel's dark hair brushed over her neck as he buried his face in her shoulder and began to leave tiny bites against her collarbone, and she wriggled just a little in order to get him to hold her tighter. Castiel began to move in long, sure strokes, clearly knowing how to take her higher.

She had taught him well, Meg thought dizzily as the icy water continued its relentless spray on their bodies and without opening her eyes she reached up to cup the back of his head, moaning in his ear how good he felt. It only increased the hardness of his thrusts, not the speed, and each subtle grind he did at the end of each thrust made sparks fly behind her eyes. His moans were more muffled than hers but the bathroom was starting to echo with the force of her cries as he seemed to be trying to climb inside her body, his hard thrusts forcing her head to bang against the tile wall.

"Don't stop," Meg whispered and he did a peculiar swivel of his hips that crushed her clit and she let out a loud cry as the rush of pleasure overcame her self-control. Immediately, his hand left her thigh to clamp over her mouth and she sank her teeth into the meat of his palm, tasting blood. Castiel began to finally--finally, she thought-- speed up the timing of his hard thrusts, until her body was being pushed and pulled with such force that her teeth chattered. She wasn't expecting the second wave of orgasm to rush over her but when Castiel dropped his mouth to her neck and bit hard on her shoulder it came and hit her hard. She let out a scream against his palm and Castiel clamped his own lips around her shoulder, a muffled groan echoing her scream as he came. Meg felt him lodge deep inside her and continue his thrusts in tiny strokes so that with each one came a hard push, half lifting her against the wall. It continued on until she felt exhausted by the constant flutter and release of her own inner muscles and Castiel's own shoulders slumped.

He let her legs down with a sigh and after turning the cold water off, he put his hands on the wall on either side off her head. Meg reached up his back to tug on his hair and lead his lips to hers and she kissed him, surprised by his force but enjoying it all the same.

When they broke apart, Castiel, for the first time all this week, had a smile on his face. He reached over to cup the back of her head in his hand and he squeezed her hair a little. Meg willingly stepped into him, one arm draping over his shoulder. "What are you so smug about, Clarence?" she challenged.

"I told you I'd come back for you," he said and then he was kissing her again and Meg's usual quick wit was lost.

#

Lebanon...

It was the quickest any of them had travelled before and there was a sense of urgency that no one really wanted to discuss. As the Impala zoomed down the drive, Dean twisted the wheel neatly and the car slid into its parking space like a knife to a holster. Outside of the bunker, both a hunter and Benny stood, each looking more harassed and uncomfortable than either Sam or Dean had noticed before. The hunter, a lanky looking man by the name of Rob who was new to the job, gave Dean and Sam an uneasy grin that they returned before they discreetly checked the pickups parked to one side. Instead of the rows of classic old heaps favoured by the hunters, they were all the old ones that they'd pulled out of the garage some years ago to make room for the new bunker inhabitants. It meant that the hunters must be out on the job like they were supposed to be.

The Cougar slid into the spot beside them but Meg didn't get out.

Castiel had chosen, for some reason he didn't discuss with Dean or Sam, to ride with them, leaving Kevin to accompany Meg and Nyx. Fixing his new coat around his chest, he slid wearily from the backseat as Sam and Dean both stepped out of the Impala. At the very least he had cleaned up and no longer reeked of sweat and despair, but Sam could have sworn he didn't look any better for it. He still looked as if he badly needed a good month of sleep and angels didn't even need sleep. Weren't supposed to, anyway.

Sam watched as Meg stayed in her idling car and he wondered if at the first sign of trouble whether or not she was going to just take off. It seemed strange, this new tension between her and Castiel. It was as if something had happened but no one could guess what. Meg had gone up to get Castiel and Nyx and come down a long time later, looking troubled and a little wet. Knowing her better than he cared to admit, Sam had wondered if Castiel had said something to her that had set her off but it didn't seem likely. The angel had barely spoken more than a few words in the trip from Colorado and there'd been nothing to hint as to what he might have said to Meg.

Maybe Meg was feeling guilty over something, Sam wondered and then just as quickly dismissed that thought as stupid. Meg never felt guilty it seemed. She was a demon after all. Demons didn't feel guilt. Sam shrugged and followed Dean up the drive.

His brother clamped Rob on the shoulder. "How's it been here?"

"Quiet." Rob looked at Benny. "You could have told us he was a vampire. Kris nearly off'd him until that Elizabeth interfered. She explained he's a friend but man... it made me watch my neck for a while."

"Well, it wouldn't help you any if I just told you everything." Dean turned to the burly man. "How the hell did you keep them from killing you?"

The vampire gave him a toothy grin. "Ah, you see, brother, you didn't train them that well. I'm not about to be taken down by a bunch of kids."

Rob looked ready to argue but Dean cut him off, "But everything is good?"

"Good good. Except for that kid showing up." Benny sniffed the air. "He smelt funny and that funny smell has stayed in the bunker ever since."

"I don't smell a thing," Rob said as if it explained everything.

"You wouldn't," Benny countered.

"Where's Elizabeth?" Sam asked and both Benny and Dean looked at him. "What?"

"Nothing." Benny peered over their shoulder. "What's he doing?"

They all turned to see Castiel leaning against the Impala. He was staring into the Cougar, in an apparent staring contest with Meg. The demon after a while looked away and busied herself with something in the back seat. The angel looked up at the horizon anyway and his expression turned hungry, as if he was searching for something in the overcast sky.

"Being Cas is my guess."

"We've got angels and vampires and a kid that shows up out of nowhere. What's next? A demon?" Rob grumbled. Dean and Sam looked at each other but Rob was already heading for his pickup parked down the road. "I was the last one left. The kid's been so quiet that we've just been waiting on you guys. He's probably some hunter's long lost kid." He looked directly at Dean and Dean sighed.

"Trust me, that really wasn't the case with this one," he muttered.

Sam snickered. It would never cease to amaze him how everyone assumed a long lost kid could be Dean's. Maybe Dean's reputation was preceding him.

Castiel turned away from the Impala and the Cougar. "I need to see this child."

"Oh, he ain't no child," Rob argued. "He's got to be...gosh... like late teens or something. Nice kid. Made us all breakfast and helped us find some cases to work on. You heard about the one in Minnesota?"

"No," Sam said.

"Bad one. Lots of weird deaths." Rob opened the pickup door and hopped in. He rolled down his window and leaned out. "I'm headed up to town. The guys are expecting me before we all head out."

"Thanks," Dean answered and he waved. Rob fired up his pickup and headed out without a backward glance, leaving Dean and Sam to stare awkwardly at Benny and Castiel. The vampire had approached the angel and was actively smelling him like a bloodhound might. Castiel barely flinched, just gave him a look. He was wearing his new outfit that was a leftover of Dean's old black suit he kept in the trunk of his car from when he was several pounds lighter and inches shorter, at the start of his hunting days. Castiel had looked at the new clothes they'd bought him and dismissed them as not being 'him'. The makeshift suit fit Castiel snugly but he didn't seem to care, covered in the black coat Meg and Dean had found for him. The new clothes made him look a little like his old self at least.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked when Benny continued to smell the angel.

"He smells funny." Benny leaned in, so close that his nose brushed Castiel's neck, and inhaled. "Like...like vinegar and laundry soap. Mixed with blood."

Meg finally opened her car door and leaned on it as she stood. "Not going to start making out, are we?" she asked. Then she seemed to think it over. "Though that might be all matter of hot."

"Cool it, Meg," Dean warned. Benny took the hint and backed away from Castiel while Sam went to help Meg with Kevin and Nyx. The little girl bounced out happily and stared wide-eyed at Benny. The vampire grinned at her, showing his fangs.

"Hello, ma petite," he purred and she giggled, flinging herself at him.

"Benny!" He made a chuffing sound as she wrapped herself around his legs and hugged tight. "Momma said I was a good girl."

"I'm sure you were."

"Actually, I said she was a monster," Meg corrected as she backed away from Kevin. The prophet held onto Sam's arm as he was led out from the maze of cars. "I'm not wrong."

"Not a monster," Nyx protested but she untangled herself from Benny and quickly crossed over to Castiel. She curled her fingers into his and tugged. "Up." He looked down at her and hesitated. Nyx tugged again and with a resigned sigh he bent over and picked her up. Nyx nestled into his shoulder happily. "Missed you."

Something about the sight of father and daughter made Sam feel suddenly very alone and he tried to push that thought away from himself. Still his eyes were drawn as Castiel seemed to let his guard down and hugged his daughter back, patting her back and keeping her high off the mucky ground. As Sam watched, Meg went to pass Castiel and the angel suddenly reached out to take her hand. The demon froze and gave the angel a look that seemed startled but also curious. But Castiel wasn't looking at her, only at Nyx. Sam was puzzled by this interaction and he looked at Dean, hoping for some insight. But his brother was back to being all business.

"If we're all done with happy reunions?" Dean asked and he nodded to the bunker. "We've got a Cambion in there and I want to know why you all trusted him enough to leave him alone."

Benny frowned. "A Cam-what?"

Following Dean, Sam and Kevin fell into step beside him, Meg and Castiel and Nyx just behind them. "A cambion is a demon and human hybrid."

"So like the little bit then?" Benny asked and Sam shook his head.

"Different."

"Cambions are very powerful and are often used as instruments of Hell," Castiel explained. His voice was very scratchy from lack of use. "Nyx is not an instrument of Hell." He looked at his daughter. "Are you?"

"Nope," she said cheerily and she hugged him tight around the neck. Castiel sighed and held her closely, meeting Meg's eyes over the dark hair of their daughter. She held the look and Castiel squeezed her hand.

They came into the bunker and headed toward the library. "So we've let a Cambion into the bunker," Dean said.

"You've done worse. Remember Crowley?" Meg snipped and they  rolled their eyes at her.

"Shut up, Meg," they said in unison.

Benny grinned. "I see they are back to treating you like a member of the family."

"Oh that'll be the day," Dean muttered.

"She's part of my family," Castiel said possessively and Meg glanced up at him.

"Yeah, yeah, we get it. You and the wife have the perfect family," Kevin muttered.

Castiel bristled. "I have been unwell but even I don't recall ever once participating in the ceremony of marriage."

"Have to get me drunk first," Meg grumbled. "Married to an angel, seriously."

"Hey!" Dean snapped, turning. "If you all don't shut up right now I'm going to make all of you sit in the corner."

Meg waited until he'd turned around before she stuck her tongue out at him. Nyx mimicked her mother and Dean turned abruptly to catch them both. He and Sam both groaned. "What are you, three?" he asked Meg.

"Yeah, yeah." She tried to untangle her fingers from Castiel but he held on and squeezed to warn her. Sighing, she relaxed and followed him into the library as he helped her down the step. Nyx began to squirm a little and he set her down on the ground behind him. He gave her a smile before stepping up beside the Winchesters.

"Well, well, well." The young male voice made them all whip around to the left, hands on weapons or tightened to fists, to see a teenager leaning against the one shelf, snacking on a burrito. He took a big bite and chewed with grotesque slowness. He was a handsome young man, with dark hazel eyes and short cropped dark hair, skinny and tall. Meg backed into Castiel because the moment she saw the boy the moment she sensed something different about him. Something that reminded her of Nyx.

He looked at them all one by one and a faint sneer appeared on his lips.

"Dean and Sam Winchester. Still alive, huh?" he asked. Then he looked at Castiel. "And their pet angel."

Meg felt Castiel's hand tighten on hers.

"Jesse Turner," Sam said. "I never thought to see you again."

"Yeah, I'm sure you're thrilled." Jesse took another bite of the burrito and smacked his lips. "Imagine my surprise, guys, when I find a vamp hanging out in your place." He looked at Meg next. "And your pet holding onto a demon. I don't really like demons. Maybe she snuck in?"

He held up a hand and Meg started to gasp as an imaginary vice tightened around her entire dark soul. Jesse simply stared into her eyes across the floor, his hand slowly closing into a tight fist. Castiel twisted and stepped forward but found himself blocked by a wave of power he hadn't felt in years. The threat of it twisted in his insides and he groaned, nearly collapsing to his knees.

"Let her go!" he shouted. Dean and Sam also started forward but found themselves thrown backwards at a look from the Cambion staring Meg down still.

"A demon walks with the Winchesters. There has to be a mistake," Jesse continued. He finished his food and tossed the wrapper to the floor. "I mean, you can't really expect me to believe you're working with both monsters and demons, do you?"

"Jesse, if you would let us talk," Sam groaned.

"Could be under her influence. I've seen how these demons work, you know." Jesse took a menacing step towards them. "I know all about how demons can destroy lives. I was born into it."

Suddenly a tiny blur sprinted out from behind Castiel and Meg and smacked into Jesse. He stared down, surprised, at the small child who stared up at him. "Who the hell are you?" he asked, confused.

With a screech like a tiny banshee, Nyx walloped his shin with her heavy rubber boot and set him howling and hopping around. "Don't hurt Momma!" she shouted and she did it again, this time to his other shin. Jesse howled again and lurched around the floor of the library, trying to protect himself as Nyx continued to pummel him with tiny fists.

Instantly the impact of Jesse's twisted power was lessened and Meg collapsed to her knees, the Winchesters and Castiel following. Benny and Kevin stayed behind, looking confused by what was going on. Meg rolled to her side and boosted herself upward so that she could see her tiny daughter fighting the full-size teenager.

"Nyx!" she shouted. Nyx twisted on her heel and sprinted for her, narrowly avoiding a swipe from Jesse and sprang into her mother's arms. Meg stood up and swayed on her feet, holding Nyx close. Jesse came and lifted his hand to start his onslaught again but found himself grabbed by Castiel. The angel put him into a half-nelson and hauled him backward.

Dean coughed up a mouthful of blood and stared hard at the boy. "Jesus, Jesse, just take it easy. Cas, let him go. We're all friends here."

Castiel reluctantly released the Cambion.

"Take it easy? Take it easy!" Jesse pointed at Nyx, safe in her mother's arms. "What the hell is that thing?"

Nyx stuck her tongue out at him.

"That is Nyx," Sam said.

"Good lord above never thought to see something like that," Benny muttered and Kevin frowned.

"Was it that good?"

"Better than."

"Damn. Now I do miss my eyes."

Jesse staggered a few steps toward Meg and found both Dean and Castiel blocking him. "She's with us," Dean said. "Has been for years now."

"That wasn't what I asked," the teenager snapped. His hand practically shook. "Who the hell is she?"

Protectively, Meg turned and put more distance between them. Sam watched and made sure he was there to help if he needed to. "That's Nyx."

"Nyx?" Jesse repeated. "What is a Nyx?"

"Me," the little girl said. "Hi!"

She waved her hand at him and he glared. "She's a demon."

"No..." Dean started.

Jesse squinted. "No, she's not. She's..." He looked at Castiel next. "She's an angel?"

Castiel glared at him. "You tried to hurt Meg."

"Don't look at me like that. It's a reflex when I see demons these days," Jesse said without a hint of apology in his voice. He looked at Meg and saw the way Castiel kept himself between them at all times. "Wait wait wait."

He pointed at Castiel. "You." Then he pointed at Meg. "Her." He pointed at Nyx in Meg's arms. "Made her?"

"That's the roundabout way of going to that conclusion," Benny piped up.

"Benny, don't help," Dean murmured.

"No, seriously. You two created her?" Jesse asked. "She's like me. Kind of. I think." He tilted his head to an extreme angle. "I can't even tell really what she is. It's a jumble."

"That's real nice," Meg snapped and she eyed him. "You gonna put those big boy powers in neutral or do I have to let her kick you again?"

Nyx grinned. "Can I kick him?"

"No!" Dean and Sam shouted in unison.

"That's not very nice," Meg said to her daughter. "Tell you what, he moves funny, you kick. Got it?"

"Got it."

"Hiding behind a child?" Jesse said. "Some demon."

"I'm Meg. You are...some sad little boy who can get beat up by a little kid?" Meg asked smugly. Jesse looked ready to kill but found once again Castiel was between them.

"Meg," Castiel said without turning around, "please try not to be so antagonistic."

"Can't help it, baby, it's in my nature," Meg said with threat oozing out of her voice.

"Someone needs to explain this to me," Jesse said.

Dean held up his hands. "Let's all sit down and talk, okay."

"No." Jesse pointed at Meg and Cas. "Short version. Now."

"Oo, wearing big boy underpants too." Meg's eyes clicked to black. "How exciting."

"Shut up, Meg," the Winchesters said.

"All of you shut up," Kevin said and he blindly felt his way to the table in the centre of the room. He plunked down and sighed. "You're giving me a headache."

"Who the hell is he?"

"A Prophet," Sam said as he took a seat beside Kevin. Benny followed. "And Benny you know."

"Didn't know this Jesse was trouble," Benny said, sounding contrite.

"He's grown up," Dean offered as an apology back. He took a seat and gestured for Jesse to sit as well. With one eye on Meg, the teenager took a seat beside Sam and flinched as Castiel sat across from him with Meg at his side. Nyx crawled over onto Dean's lap and sat, staring hard at Jesse as if he was an interesting bug. Dean ignored her and tapped the table. "So here's the short version..."

"It is so hard to take you seriously with a kid treating you like an uncle," Jesse pointed out.

Dean glared. "Nyx beat you up. Show her some respect."

"She surprised me," Jesse corrected.

"Whatever."

Nyx stuck her tongue out. "Yeah, whatever."

Both Winchesters looked at her in surprise and then Dean beamed like a proud uncle. "Damn straight, Nyxie. Short version is --"

Meg gestured at herself. "Few years ago, I got killed."

"I brought her back," Castiel continued.

"We had some pretty great sex," Meg said and Dean and Sam both groaned.

"So gross," Sam whispered and Dean nodded.

"Then he knocked me up," Meg said with a glare at both men.

"And this little Abomination happened," Dean said. "Right, Nyxie?"

"Right!" she piped up.

"And you two let this happen?" Jesse said. "And so did he?" He gestured at Castiel. "As I remember it you were hard up to kill me as a kid."

"I've grown since then."

"Obviously," Jesse said, rolling his eyes. He looked at Dean and Sam. "And somehow a demon is now a good idea to have as a friend."

"Ugh," Meg groaned and rolled her head on her shoulders as if to ease on the ache in her shoulders. She closed her eyes. "Wake me up when the prejudice stops."

Castiel reached beneath the table and put his hand on her thigh. "He doesn't realize how you have helped us."

"Well someone get the kid up to speed before he throws another fit." Meg sighed.

"I don't think we owe Jesse anything until he explains why he is here," Kevin said.

"He wasn't telling us anything," Benny said.

"I don't have to tell any of you anything," the kid said and put his hand over his stomach, smugly leaning back.

"You will if you want to stay here," Dean snapped. "Remember, this is our home, not yours."

"Because of you two I haven't had a life," Jesse countered.

"Oh boo fucking hoo," Meg groaned. Benny grinned and Dean quickly covered Nyx's ears. "Listen, you little ass, life isn't easy and I'm not interested in your whole story. Just tell them why you're here."

Jesse turned on her next and between them there was a swell of power that Castiel and Benny felt acutely. "Demons."

She stiffened a little, enough that underneath Castiel's hand he felt her thigh quiver, and stared hard at the Cambion. "Say again?"

"Demons have started hunting me again, saying they want me to join Hell. Now the way I look at it?" He was staring at all of them now. "Something big is about to go down."

"Demons hunting you? Join the club," Meg said.

Castiel shot her a surprised look. "They have been hunting you again?"

This time she looked uncomfortable. "Shut up, Cas."

He sent Dean a puzzled look for help but Dean had removed his hands from Nyx's ears and was setting her down on the floor. "Nyx, go into the living room for a bit. Sam's got Netflix still."

Her eyes lit up. "Pirates!"

She scuttled off and Meg sighed. "Thanks, Dean, now she's going to try to find that damned Pirates of the Caribbean movie."

"She likes that?" Kevin asked.

"She thinks the monkey is fun," Castiel explained.

"Anyway!" Jesse said. "I thought the Winchesters would be the first to have answers."

"No answers here. Right, Sam?" Dean said but his brother looked uncertain. "Sam?"

"It's nothing but I just... I think... anything is possible?" Sam offered weakly. Then he looked at Meg. "One person here would know."

With practiced care, she shrugged a shoulder. "Can't say I care enough."

No one looked like they believed her but Meg stood up anyway. "I'm going to unpack the Cougar. Cas?"

Obediently, he stood and together they left. Jesse watched them, obviously seething. Dean and Sam looked at one another, while Benny and Kevin looked more than a little lost. Dean eyed Benny next. "Benny, can you make some calls, get some info on what the monsters have been up to? Sam and I will see if there's any demon movement."

Kevin frowned. "And me?"

"You relax. See if you can think of any reason why demons would be up no good and targeting Jesse." Dean stood up and looked at Jesse. "Make yourself at home."

That earned him an arrogant sneer. "Right, and maybe I'll go and be best friends with that kid."

Dean pushed his chair in. "Least she won't keep beating you up if you're friends with her," he said and Jesse looked thoroughly put out. Sam sighed.

"Jesse, word of advice?" He nodded to the other room. "We're all fond of that little girl but even we don't know what she's capable of. Maybe you can help her figure it out."

"Yeah?" Jesse crossed his arms over his chest. "Why should I?"

"Because you know what it is like to grow up alone. Do you really want that for anyone?" Sam challenged and then he was following Dean out to the small war room at the other end of the library.

Benny cast Jesse a look that was a little sympathetic. "Kev?" he asked. "I'll take you to go sit with Nyx. You can take care of her."

"Got it." Kevin accepted his help and together they headed into the living room together. Jesse looked around the now empty table and threw his hands up in the air.

"I came back to this. Fucking great."

#

Lebanon had been strictly avoided by the demons in the past few years and now coming back to the small Kansas town didn't make them feel any better about the absence. Carl and Neil both disliked the smell of it. It had the vague odour of hunters lingering in every crook and cranny and they could almost feel the hunters there, breathing down the back of their necks.

Still, they had to be there and there had been apparently good reason to be there. The alert had gone on in Hell that the latest mark to be wanted was residing in Lebanon, seeking to lose himself in the anonymity of the hunters. That was the word anyway; Neil, a heavyset demon, thought it was all bullshit. A Cambion didn't need protection, was what he figured, but Carl didn't agree. There was a real possibility the boy still didn't know his own strength and he'd be vulnerable. Neither demon knew exactly why Hell wanted the potential Antichrist again but who were they to argue?

They stood outside the coffee shop and watched a pickup truck rattle up. A thin man slid out the instant it was stopped and adjusted his heavy flannel coat and stopped his thick work boots. Though he was dressed like a construction labourer, both demons instantly knew better. He moved with the wariness of someone who had been trained to jump at every shadow, trained to look into dark rooms with the care of a soldier. A hunter.

Neil was thrilled. They must be close then. The information they had was so vague but he knew that the Cambion must have met this hunter. It only made sense. If the boy had gone to the Winchesters for help, then they would be close. Every demon in Hell knew how the two men had started up a training base for the hunters and every demon knew that the Winchester men weren't to be trifled with. You didn't go to Lebanon, period, unless you had a death wish if the Winchesters were in town. Or unless you feared Hell's leadership more than you did the brothers.

Carl sipped his sweet tea and leaned across the tiny bistro table. The meat suit he wore was that of a thin, studious man in a waistcoat and bright yellow button down. More conspicuous, that had been the orders. No more of the rough backwoods sort or the corporate stiffs that Crowley had favoured. Blend in, that had been the order. Carl liked to think they had it down pat at these two disguises. They looked more like scientists than demons hiding as gangsters. Carl drew Neil's attention to himself though both demons kept an eye on the hunter entering the variety store next to the coffee shop.

"What do you think?" he asked Neil and the other demon shrugged.

"Might be too easy. I don't trust things that are this easy." Neil checked his phone. "But it makes sense. I mean, the boy must have just arrived."

"Must have. This hunter, could he know about him?"

The other demon's eyes glinted. "Really only one way to find out." He pushed his heavy overcoat to the side and revealed in a short glimpse the wicked looking machete he kept strapped beneath his armpit. As he let his coat go, his gaze turned almost contemplative. "When was the last time we had a good torture?"

Carl rolled his eyes to the sky and thought about it. "Six weeks ago in Budapest. The priest there was fun. Squealed though. I hate squealers."

"You sound just like Vetis," Neil muttered. "He only likes screamers."

"Don't say anything bad about Vetis. Son of a bitch managed to get the information we needed on this Cambion." Carl sipped his tea. "Without him, we wouldn't have had such fun carving up Europe and Australia."

The mention of Australia sobered Neil's expression. "You heard what happened in Minnesota?"

"Man, I think everyone knows what happened in Minnesota.  Rae got lucky she only exorcised herself back to the Pit. Not that it helped her. She's down there raving like a lunatic." Carl shook his head and rocked back in his chair, eyes on the variety store door. "Something attacked her. That's my guess."

"Yeah? Like a monster?"

"Must have been. Getting a straight answer from her is impossible."

"Big monster."

Carl shook his head. "It doesn't make a lot of sense though. Supposedly she said the reason why she exorcised herself was because she was told to. I didn't think anyone could force a demon to do anything."

"Except for Lucifer."

"Except for Lucifer and he's still caged. It is the first thing the big guys thought of but nope, he's down there, screaming away."

Neil nodded. "World's not ready for the Apocalypse anyway."

"Not yet, I guess," Carl said and he took another sip. "Damn shame."

"Damn indeed," Neil agreed and he settled his weight a little on the rear legs of his chair. It rocked dangerously back and forth.  "So, I guess the question of the hour is... what do you want to do?"

"Well," Carl paused and looked at the hunter's truck, "you want heads or tails?"

A nearly lecherous grin overtook Neil's face. "You know me, I like tails."

"And I do like heads," Carl agreed. "Send out a text. Let them know we're in Lebanon about to get some information."

Rob thanked the store clerk and headed out the door after grabbing everything he needed for the long road trip up to Minnesota. He had two large shopping bags cradled close to his chest, a microwaved, comically large hot dog in his mouth. Juggling the bags around, he dug into his jean pocket for his keys and nearly dropped everything a few times before finally managing to get the right key in place. He tripped on his way over to the curb and felt the one bag starting to slip free and with a muffled yelp he ducked to try to grip it but it was falling too fast.

A hand suddenly grabbed the bag by the handles and hoisted it up for him. A second hand reached out and took the burrito from his mouth and Rob worked his jaw thankfully.

"Looks like you got your hands full," the friendly man in the yellow shirt said. Rob grinned and nodded.

"Thanks, buddy, saved my eggs there." He looked over at the large black man staring at him thoughtfully. He held the hot dog in one hand for him. "And my lunch."

The large man grinned. "Glad to know it. I'm Neil and that's Carl."

Rob juggled the remaining bag in his hand and thrust his key into the pickup lock. "New to Lebanon?" he asked and he gave them an apologetic look. "Strangers kind of stick out. Learned that years ago."

"No, not exactly. It has been...what...fifty  years since we were here last?" Carl asked Neil and the other man shrugged.

Only half-listening, Rob gave a nervous laugh. "Yeah right. Fifty years."

"Last time I was a five year old girl," Neil said. "You were a rock musician. Remember?"

"Oh right. That is right, we were just teamed up then. Man, fifty years ago...we should drink to that," Carl said.

"Fifty years..." Rob quickly placed everything together in his head and went to spin on his heel. Only he found himself crushed face first against the truck door. Neil leaned his considerable weight into his back and Rob made a faint wheezing noise.

"So, in all that fifty years, do you think we ever have mercy on a hunter?" Neil asked.

Rob's eyes widened. He tried to seem unafraid but even the shrug of his shoulders was quivering and fearful. Carl clicked his tongue.

"No, of course not, what in Hell are you thinking?" he asked. Both demons whipped him around and pressed him against the door again. "You are going to tell us exactly what is going on in that bunker."

Rob managed to look a little less fearful and gave them a snide look. "I'm not going to tell you a damn thing."

"Oh, you will." Neil pulled the machete from under his coat and pressed it subtly, so that no passerbys could see, against Rob's stomach. "Entrail by entrail, you'll tell us."

"Trust him, he was alive during the Tudor reign. He knows all about a good torture," Carl said cheerily. "Me? I'm younger, I'd much prefer something less subtle."

Rob whimpered and both demons laughed before yanking him away from the door and heading off towards the parked Lincoln they were using. They left the bags of groceries dropped on the ground and in the typical way of a small town, the people in the coffee shop turned a blind eye to what had happened.

It was safer that way, after all.