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gucciwins · 4 years

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Always Be Your Friend

Word count: 8990

It’s easy to love your best friend but it’s not easy being in love with them. Harry and Y/N became friends from the moment they first met. Will they take a chance and confess their feelings or will they watch each other fall in love with someone else. *warning a mention of sexual harassment in the story*

Jeff had invited her to a small gathering at his house so that she could meet a few of his friends being new to the area and all, but when she arrived, she wasn't expecting a backyard full of people mingling and drinking beers. She's counted over twenty people, and she's yet to find Jeff.

Y/N was about to get herself water from a red cooler when he finally spotted her. Jeff's quick to apologize but promises that everyone is kind, and his girlfriend went a little overboard with inviting her friends. She brushes him off and lets him know she'll be fine.

If only she believed that lie.

She decides to leave but stays when she finds a small path that leads her to an opening, and she's met with a beautiful view of the sunset. She sits on white clean bench and enjoys the colors the sky is painting. She's lost in thought that she fails to hear the footsteps approaching her, but she doesn't startle when she hears a crunch of leaves breaking her of her trance.

Her gaze is locked on Gucci loafers, which she assumes are paired with Gucci socks. She slowly starts to move her gaze up to his body, a small smile on her face as she sees the purple flared pants (later on would learn he calls them trousers and soon she would as well). As her gaze reaches his face, she can't help thinking how nice the white shirt he wears shows off his tanned skin nicely. She doesn't let her eyes linger too long on his tattoos, but she thinks they are beautiful. Her favorite part of his outfit might be the blue bandana wrapped around his neck. She finally meets his eyes and decides right then and there that green is her new favorite color. The sunset makes them appear lighter. He's staring at her with a smile on his face, dimples on full display.

Y/N looks down at herself; she's wearing a wide-leg jumpsuit, a rust color, and if she's being honest, she looks really good. Thankfully, no one wants to make a first impression under-dressed; at least that was what her mother taught her.

She doesn't turn to look at him anymore and keeps her eyes in front of her.

"Never seen you before, around from here?" His voice was slow and soothing. His accent is sweet as honey.

He really surprised her with the accent, that might just have convinced her he must be the most perfect human from his tall, lean stature to the brown curls to the captivating green eyes.

"I'm new. Jeff is my friend." She pauses. "Acquaintance met him a week ago at work, and we hit it off. I've been here two weeks officially."

"Jeff's great, although his girl is quite popular."

She laughs and agrees with him.

"Sorry, I'm Harry." He approaches her with his hand stretched out.

She smiles when Harry repeats her name back as they let go of each other's hands. He then takes a seat, and they fall into easy conversation.

"I really love your tattoos, do you get them done around here?" She asks, genuinely curious eyes locked on the beautiful mermaid on his arm.

"Most, done at this shop, a buddy of mine works at. He's really talented, and I trust him. A few, I've gotten when I was traveling."

She hums to let him know she's listening.

"Got lots more than just these, but might be inappropriate to undress in front of a stranger." He says honestly, not wanting her to be uncomfortable.

"Here I thought we were becoming friends," she teases.

He laughs, shocked at her response. She smiles, glad they share the same type of humor.

"Got any of your own?"

"I've got two, but one no one knows about." She answers him honestly.

"I've got three stars behind my right ear." She pauses and looks at him before crossing her left foot across her thigh. She moves her jumpsuit higher and there on her ankle is a peach. "I got a peach when I was eighteen because I wanted a tattoo, and the reason I got a peach is still unknown to me to this day."

"Peaches are sweet. So are you."

She blushes but stills looks at him. "That's your first impression of me."

He nods. "You could have ignored me and left or not even answered me or worse answered like a jerk for not knowing your name already but instead let a strange walk into your bubble."

"I like you, Harry. Think the accent won me over."

"Oh, really," He smirks. "Wasn't the dimples or piercing green eyes."

"Eh.." She shrugs

She laughs, and Harry can't help but join her.

On a bench watching a sunset, Harry and Y/N become friends.

"Harry!" She screams as she walks through the backdoor. "I've run out of almond butter."

"Broke into my house, why?" Harry replies as he walks into the kitchen, hair wet. He's dressed in grey sweats and a black hoodie. He's got scruff growing, and as much as she loves to tease him about it, Harry knows how much she loves it.

"I didn't break in." She's spreading Harry's almond butter onto her slice of toasted bread. "The back door was open which means come right in."

Harry's standing there watching her take a bite of her toast. "Peach, how are you already eating when you've been here less than five minutes?" He narrows his eyes and looks at his unplugged toaster that sits next to his coffee machine that is surprisingly already brewing. "Did you run here with it in your hand?"

She scratches her neck lightly, index finger dragging slowly. "Umm...of course not."

"Right, you wouldn't because you live a thirty minute walk away. Running only means you'd get more germs on it."

She rolls her eyes at Harry's concern. "Are you hungry, I'll make you something. I have time on my hands before I have to run back home."

Harry grins, allowing her to drop the topic and quickly agrees because he adores her cooking. "I'll have your egg whites special, please."

She nods, kissing his forehead before moving to the fridge to get the things out she'll need. Harry stares at her and thinks back to when he first met her. He thinks it's insane he went so long without her in his life. Harry owes it all to Jeff that he kept bringing her to their outings when she first moved here. Harry will never admit that to him, he doesn't want to have to name his first child after him.

Harry furrows his brow in confusion. It's Saturday, and she always stays the weekend with him.

"You usually stay over?" He questions as she hands him his plate. "Why do you have to leave?"

"Cassie set me up on a date." She looks down at her nails and frowns seeing a few chipped and she knows it is from all the cleaning she has been doing at home because work has been slow and she needed to keep busy. "I'm going to cancel it." She decides instantly.

She takes off her sweater and settles herself on the chair next to Harry taking a drink of his coffee. She hums at the sharp taste, one she learned to appreciate after being his friend for years.

"Just like that," Harry is trying his best to hide his excitement but knows he's failing miserably.

"My nails look atrocious. It's like I'd be showing up naked" She physically shivers at the thought.

"We can do face masks and each other's nails." Harry says after taking back his coffee, knowing she'd drink it all without meaning to.

She lights up at Harry's suggestion.

"Yes, oh, can I use the candy apple one?" she asks her eyes locking with his and Harry melts in his seat at the innocent look she's giving him. He doesn't remember a time he's told her no.

As soon as she hears the word yes come out of his mouth, she's racing up the stairs to gather up the things they'll need.

He hears a thump upstairs and is about to make his way up when he hears an "I'm good." He laughs and washes his plate before heading to the living room. Harry turns the tv on and decides on parks and rec because it's their favorite to watch together.

"I got you black with glitter. Starry starry night is a beautiful color." She's admiring it as she walks down the steps with her arm full of things they might need, like the nail polish remover they'll need to take off her chipped color. "I know you were hiding this from me, which is why I will be using it on you."

Harry takes some things from her and sets it on his old coffee table. "I got it a few days ago. Honestly, bought it with you in mind." He confesses. What he doesn't admit is that when he saw it, it reminded him of the first time they laid in his backyard and although that night wasn't clear enough she told him about her favorite constellations and that if she was an artist she'd draw the moons and stars every night. Looking back, Harry can say that is the moment he fell in love with her. Not that he knew that then, no, he realized much later.

The smile on her face has his heart beating out of his chest. Harry swears she's going to kiss him. She leans in plants a big kiss on his cheek, which still makes his cheeks go pink, but his heart drops because he really wanted her lips on his.

She pouts when she catches Harry staring at her. "You're staring because I smell right." She narrows her eyes at him as if judging him for making her self-conscious. "If I go shower, will you let me borrow some clothes?"

Harry knows she has more than a change of clothes in her own drawer in his bedroom, but he agrees, and she's off once more up the stairs.

"Are you ready?" She screams walking in through the front door.

Harry had invited her out for Tuesday brunch seeing as she had the morning off, and he thinks he has the right to not be ready. He promised he'd be waiting for her on his sofa so that as soon as she walked in, they'd be off. She walks into the living room as if it's her first time there and smiles at the pictures he has scattered around. She finds a book on the couch and frowns because, of course, it's another Bukowski book. She walks up the stairs to his bedroom and walks in expecting him to be in bed, but instead, she finds him in a 'Women are smarter' t-shirt and a blanket on his lap, and she knows he's got nothing underneath. Harry's got the right earphone in, he's sitting at a makeshift table he made in his walk-in closet talking to his laptop. She assumes he's meeting with a client and is about to walk out when something catches her eye. It's a photo of her on his nightstand. Harry looks at her from the corner of his eye. He starts to fidget with a ring on his middle finger. He focuses back on his client, but he's not really listening, too busy admiring her. She doesn't feel Harry's wandering eyes on her back, but Harry knows he's been staring too long when his client repeats himself.

She approaches slowly as if the item would jump at her any second. She picked up a photo of herself from Los Angeles when they were there together in Autumn. She's smiling brightly at the cinnamon buns they made together when they were helping Jeff move into his house, and she told him she had to test out his oven. She didn't even know he took a picture of her. She's about to turn it over, but it's snatched out of her hand.

"Hey," she pouts.

"It's mine. Stop being so snoopy."

"I wouldn't be snoopy if you didn't leave your things out. I look really pretty there. I can see why you want me there to look at every morning."

Harry turns around to hide his blush. "You're there because I sent it to a friend of mine because I think you would be a good match." Harry wants to punch himself because out of all the lies, he had to pick that one.

She stares at him with wide eyes. She doesn't want a date with a stranger.

The person she wants to date is standing in front of her. Now, she definitely knows he doesn't like her because he's setting her up with someone else.

"Is he tall?" Is her first question stopping herself from asking a second.

"An inch or two shorter than me."

She crosses her arms over her chest. "Well, that just won't do," she says dramatically. "My Flynn Rider is hmm..your height, or he could be taller. I don't mind."

Harry chuckles. "He's a fan of ice cream and loves Sudoku." he states two of her favorite things.

She narrows her eyes at him.

"Is he a big handsome boss like you?" She jokes.

"He works in marketing in a company that works with us."

"Marketing, I'm already bored to death." Harry gives her a pleading look. "I'll go, but only if you promise to get Anne to send me her recipe for her mince pie because I want to impress her this Christmas."

"Christmas is months away."

"I know, but I- I tried making some to practice and get better, and it was a disaster. Maybe because I'm not British, it's bad. I want Anne to like me." she says as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Peach, my mum loves you. I can assure you. Those sticky buns you made on boxing day were all mum talked about for weeks after you left to spend new years with your brother's."

"Those were good. I haven't been able to make sticky buns that good. It must be the ingredients, we might just have to move to Europe, H."

"I'll book the flight Peach, just let me know when."

She walks out, so Harry doesn't see the blush on her face. She really loves this man and might die if she doesn't tell someone soon.

"I brought ice cream!" She yells, walking in.

She stops in the kitchen but doesn't see him or hear him. She checks his office, and it's empty, the same as his bedroom. She thinks he might be late getting out and starts The Great British Bake Off because their conversation from days ago is still in her head. Also, it's her comfort show after a shitty date

She hears the door unlocking and is grateful because two hours she had been waiting for him. She stands up eager to greet Harry, but as she turns around, she's met with a pretty blonde she's never met. She's dressed in a black dress that reaches mid-thigh hugging her curves in all the right places with red heels, and the only thing missing is the matching red lipstick.

Harry walks in with his hand on her back, and that's where she finds the blonde's missing lipstick. It's smudged all over Harry's lips. It’s obvious they had done a lot of kissing. She does her best to hide her shock.

The room is quiet, she thinks she can hear her heartbreaking. She reacts in a matter of seconds. Eyes wide and in panic, but she makes sure to move quickly. She shoots the girl a quick smile. She turns the tv that was on mute off, thankful to have already thrown her trash away.

"What are you doing here?" Harry practically screams at her. "Did you ditch the date?"

She's panicking, and if she doesn't stay calm, she might just pass out or better yet scream at Harry for sending her on the worst date of her life. She already let Sydney know what happened on the date but assured Syd she'd be fine at Harry's.

Oh, how wrong she was.

"I'm sorry it didn't go as planned. I'm leaving now." She picks her shoes up at the door and walks out with them in hand.

Harry follows her out and is hot on her heels.

"Did you ditch him for ice cream and movies at my house?" Harry's voice getting louder.

Harry's upset. She hasn't seen him this upset since the time she called Harry and told him she was stuck in the middle of nowhere with a flat tire and how she didn't have a spare because she kept forgetting going to the shop and buying a new one. He had let a tow truck take her home and proceeded to yell at her when she went to his house two days later.

"Yes, I'm sorry. I'll send him a fruit basket."

She's in her car and in the next second driving down the street.

She wants love but not like this, it isn't supposed to hurt like this.

Harry wakes up at seven to get ready for his daily run with his Peach when he sees a few texts on his phone.

Sydney: I know you had good intentions but no more dates for her.

Sydney: Please, just do anything she wants. Give her all the ice cream she wants.

Sydney: I'm assuming it all went well, and she's still sleeping because she hasn't answered my messages.

Harry's confused and does the only logical things and calls her.

"Syd, what are your texts about?"

"The date you sent her on. She was supposed to tell you about it once she got to your house."

"I wasn't home. Peach said she ditched him for ice cream and movies at my house." He says, not mentioning the part where he screams at her.

Syd sighs clearly hearing the strain in his voice, "I know there's some information missing there, but I won't push because she's my friend first. The dude basically met her and said her outfit wasn't revealing enough, but she could make up for it the next time. Then during dessert, he moved to sit next to her instead of across. He tried to put his hand up her dress. She told him to stop." Syd paused. "Then he tried it again, and she jumped up from her seat. She almost bumped into the waitress but he grabbed her waist too tight to let that happen. The waitress saw how upset she was and had the hostess and security walk her to her car. She walked out crying because she just wanted to punch him but didn't want to cause a bigger mess."

Harry doesn't know if he wants to scream or cry. He does feel anger pouring through his veins and knows next time he sees this guy he's going to do more than yell.

"She left last night saying she ditched and that she was sorry. I'm such an idiot." Harry knows Syd will yell at him for what he did next. "I yelled at her because I brought a girl home and she was there. I practically told her the date happened, so she'd give me space."

"You suck. I thought you were better than that. That girl is the kindest person on this planet. She loves you and she always puts your happiness in front of hers."

Harry knows she isn't coming, but a small part of him holds hope she will still show up for their run together.

He sits on his back steps, waiting for her. Texts her multiple times, leaves voicemails. Yet nothing in return.

Peach: I'm busy.

Harry: Come over, please.

Peach: I can't. My boss asked me to come in. A presentation is due Monday.

Harry: We need to talk, call me or come over whenever. I'm always free for you.

It's almost been two weeks since she talked to Harry, but she's honestly embarrassed about how things happened. Harry implied he set her up on a date because she spent too much time with him. She's giving him what he clearly wanted. She also had to process what happened to her alone. Therapy was good, Dr. Stein was very kind. Dr. Stein didn’t make her problems feel small and it felt nice to let things out instead of letting it all bottle up.

It felt horrible to be away from Harry so long. Since they became friends they’d never gone longer than a day without communication. She felt empty but the image of lipstick stains on his face kept her away longer than she liked to admit. She’s going to push the feelings aside because that won’t be the reason she loses her best friend.

She's walking up Harry's steps but stops before she reaches the last one. What if he has the girl over? What if he ends the friendship? All these thoughts are running through her head and she hates having not knowing where Harry and her stand. She always hated confrontation.

As soon as she approaches the door, she sighs but squares her shoulder because she's strong. No one, not even Harry will make her feel weak. She's there to apologize for being in his home and overstepping a boundary. Then hopefully, they’ll talk it out.

She knocks for the first time in years on his door, and it feels strange, but she sucks it up because this is the correct thing to do.

She hears his light footsteps and takes two steps back.

He's surprised to see her when the door opens, but the smile he wears is bright before he frowns just as quickly.

"You don't need to knock Peach come in."

She steps in slowly toeing off her shoes carefully.

Harry approaches her and brings her in for a big hug. She stands there with her hands at her side. Harry lets her go when he feels her tense.

"What's wrong, Peach?" He frowns looking her up and down. "I've got lots of apologizing to do, but first, why'd you knock."

She looks up at Harry and pouts when she sees the eye bags he has. "You haven't been sleeping."

"It happens when your best friend is short with you for thirteen days, but it's okay because I deserve it."

"I didn't mean for that to happen, but I was giving you space because I hadn't realized how much I actually bother you."

"Hey, stop that." Harry looks at her sadly. "That's not what I meant that night."

"I can read between the lines. You don't have to hide anything. I can handle the truth."

"Listen to me," Harry guides her head to look up at him. "I was a jerk. I let my dick do the talking. You are the most important person in my life. I love you, and I don't know what I'd do without you in my life. I was going crazy this week. It felt like an entire year went by without you."

That makes her laugh. "Stop lying."

Harry shakes his head with a smile. "I mean it. My days without you are long and boring pretty Peach."

"Well, I'm here now, and I smell something good."

Harry hesitates before opening his mouth to address the reason she was at his house that Friday night.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't be the person you go to when you're upset." She tenses up just as she was about to reach for a chocolate muffin. "I'm sorry I was such a jerk the one night you needed me most. I'm your best friend, and yet I couldn't tell that you had been crying because of an idiot I set you up with."

She turns around to look at him, and there's no tears or anger in his eyes, only sadness. "One in three women get sexually assaulted. That's what Matt, Sydney's fiance, told me. He's a social worker. Women have to fear men yet are never believed or seen as a victim. I told them he didn't hurt me, but Matt told me that it was harassment. I tried to belittle it but they told me it was okay to feel unsafe because it went against what I wanted. Guess I needed someone unbiased to tell me that it's okay to be affected." She smiles. "I went to see my therapist. It felt umm…good to discuss everything that happened."

Harry has tears running down his face, and he knows they won’t stop. Seeing her in person has made his guilt really come to surface. "I'm sorry sweet Peach. I'm sorry I sent you on a date that led to this. It's all my fault."

"H, don't cry. It's not your fault he doesn't know how to treat a woman. I'm okay. I will be okay."

She's holding his face gently in her hands, and Harry falls more in love with her at this moment because she's never looked stronger. Although she was hurt, she won't let it break her but guide her.

He pulls her in and hugs her tight. Harry kisses her head, whispering I love you, and I'm here for you.

Harry knows this doesn't clear everything, but they will cross this bridge together and come out stronger.

She squirms out of his hold. "The muffins are getting cold. I want the chocolate chips melting in my mouth."

Harry is sitting in the car on another business call. He's wearing a yellow shirt he woke up in and threw his black hoodie on. His sunglasses resting on his head keeping his curls from falling forward. He was in shorts and running shoes because he was supposed to run with Peach on this new trail, except this call prevented him from doing so, and she didn't want to wait around for him. He knows she doesn't like running when the sun is high, so early mornings are their go-to. Except Harry's job calls him too often on Saturday's because they know he's awake.

He's not sure how long he's been talking, but he's upset because he missed taking pictures of her for whenever they reached the top of whatever they were running to. His passenger door is pulled open, and it's Peach plopping herself down. Shoes taken off and on her feet are her Nike sliders. Harry snaps his head back into the call.

"Look, H, I fell." She comments, not caring that he was still on his call.

Harry turns to look at her quickly and sees her knee pulled to her chest. She's rolled up her grey leggings, and there on her knee is blood rolling down. She's unfazed, and Harry knows she's clumsy but hates he wasn't there to help her up.

"This girl helped me up and offered to walk back with me, but she could have been a serial killer for all I know and told her I was fine and ran off. Good thing I was on my way down already."

Harry stares at this girl in disbelief because, of course, she doesn't trust anyone. "I know girls are less likely, but she was looking at my boobs, and I didn't like that."

"Styles, you with us." His colleague asks.

Harry looks away from her and stares back at his phone, resting on the steering wheel.

"Sorry, my girl had an accident, and I got to take care of it." They end after that and Harry takes out the first aid kit she gifted him to have in his car for emergencies. He knew she did it for herself more and who was he to object. Harry missed the blush on her cheeks when he said, "my girl," and she's thankful for that. He cleans her cut gently but quickly with all the practice he's had on her. He puts a bandage on and smiles when he's done.

"H, it's got daisies" She's smiling wide. She caressed it softly to not bother her injury.

Harry did get her different types of band-aids because a new design each time makes her smile.

“Kiss it better then I’ll be healed.”

The smile on her face has Harry leaning in close. His lips are soft as they touch her skin. She wants to run her fingers through his hair and bring him up to kiss her lips but she settles for just her knee.

"It's baking time, bitch!" She screams as she walks in with her Rapunzel grocery tote.

Harry knows they are going to bake two or three things from the size of the bag. She huffs a little, placing it on the counter. She begins to take out her items and sections them out.

"Today, young one-"

"I'm older than you."

She glares at him for interrupting. "Today, smart-ass. We are making banana bread and peanut butter chocolate chip cookies."

"Can you do it on your own, I'm busy." Harry jokes, expecting a sarcastic reply in return.

He looks at her, and she's looking sadly at a bag of chocolate chips. He frowned if she did not get the joke.

"Am I annoying you?" She questions. Harry hates how often she asks him that, but wounds take time to heal.

"Nope, I'm just a jerk."

She looks at his eyes and stares. "You're not lying to make me feel better."

"My sweet Peach, it would be an honor to bake with you and will allow you to pick all the movies we watch tonight because I am an idiot who takes a joke too far."

"Okay, sorry. I'm on overdrive in my head and came here to relax, but got too into my head."

Harry pulls her into a warm hug, and they stay like that for minutes. He pulls away and pushes her to the sink because they had work to do.

"Your peanut butter chocolate chip cookies are my drug. I watched you make them, but I feel you do something extra when I turn around." Harry says on the couch chewing on his fifth cookie. She's laying with her head in his lap, she's sure she got crumbs in her hair but is too tired to care.

"I put all my love for you in those cookies." she murmurs close to dozing off.

Harry stares at with a soft look in his eyes. If she had looked up, she would have seen it was love in those green eyes of his.

"I wish the love you put in the cookies is the love you'd give to me."

She's asleep in his lap. He knows she missed his declaration if he could even call it that. She lets out a small smile. She grabs his hand playing with her hair and pulls it to her chest. "I love you."

Harry freezes, unsure if she means it or what because it didn’t feel like the typical ‘I love you’ that she tells all her friends. Y/N's never talked in her dream before.

"Peach," he whispers, "you awake." A minute goes by, and he gets no response

This might be his chance, but it could also ruin everything if she didn't mean it.

Oh boy.

It's been a week since that night on the couch, and Harry is dying inside. He never has the balls to ask.

It's the first Friday of the month, which means dinner and wine or in her case tea.

Peach came over and had already cooked dinner claiming she had lots of time on her hand today. It usually means she didn't want to deal with Harry in the kitchen. Then proceeded to order Harry to set the table because he was no help.

The meal as always was delicious. She made spicy lemon pasta with chicken although she told him it was supposed to be shrimp, she didn't think she'd like it. Harry showed her in praise as he does after every meal. Jokes, she needs to open her own restaurant, then she melts Harry's heart by saying, "I only cook for you, darling."

Harry decided to have some wine, and she settled on tea because she didn't like to drink. Harry was giggly meaning he was a bit tipsy because he hadn't drunk in forever and was half a bottle down. She knew it wasn't fair but decided now would be a good time for some answers.

"Do you think I'd be a good girlfriend?

"The best," he replies, instantly letting her know he's not lying.

She blushes and gestures for him to go on.

"You're kind. A good cook, understanding, incredibly smart, and you've got a cute nose." Harry wants to go on and on but thinks he'd blurt out his feelings if he did.

"Would you ask me out? If you didn't know me."

"In a heartbeat," his answer shocks her.

Does Harry like her like she liked him?

She decides to get bold.

"Why haven't you taken me on a date?" She looks down at herself dressed in black sweats and a blue vintage Mickey Mouse shirt she stole from Harry. "Am I that bad looking?"

"Stop that," Harry murmurs, always hating when she comments on her looks. "I did ask you out, and I got friend-zoned. I didn't pursue more."

She shakes her head. "Stop shitting me, H." She doesn't believe him. "The first time we went out together, we split the bill."

"Think back, Peach. We always hung out in groups then I asked you to go out alone, I picked you up, opened your door and then we split the bill because you said friends met in the middle."

She sits back, her lips mouthing a silent 'oh.'

"I friend-zoned you." She starts laughing. "That's gold."

She catches her breath and stops to stare at Harry. He's wearing an old white t-shirt and can't help but look at his curls framing his face. It's slowly growing out, and she knows he's growing it out for her. She loves playing with his curls and tying it in a small ponytail that sticks up. "H, if you had told me that during lunch, I would have agreed, but you decided to keep those pretty lips shut."

Harry smirks, "You think my lips are pretty."

She sighs, giving up. She stands up. "I'll pick you up at six on Friday. I'm taking you on a date."

Harry sits there shocked but not surprised at her boldness.

"How do you even know I like you?"

Her smirk falters, and her eyes dull. Harry feels like he was just punched in the gut. He put this look on her face.

"You're right, that was insensitive of me." She's scanning the room, trying not to meet Harry's eyes. "I'm going to go." She rushes out the door in the next second. Harry is sitting there stunned before he jumps up after her.

"Wait," he screams, hoping she'll stop. She's in a hurry to leave, throwing her bag in the passenger seat. She shuts the door, but to his benefit, the window is down.

"I'm sorry." he's panting. "I'm an idiot, I know. I didn't mean that. I just like to tease you." He's looking at her, but she's looking straight ahead. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

She takes a deep breath. "That wasn't nice."

He sighs in relief. "I know, hun. I messed up. We were both being honest and vulnerable, and you surprised me by saying you were taking me out."

"I'm reconsidering taking you out."

She finally looks over at him, her eyes not shining as bright looking at him. "I’m still going to go."

"I'll let you go if you say you'll still take me out."

She looks like she wants to say no. "I'll hang here if I have to as you drive away."

"Do you.." she pauses, not being able to meet his eyes. Her hand reaches out to play with his pretty witch ring on his middle finger. "like me." she mutters.

"Hey, look at me." Harry guides her face to look at him, and he's never seen her so vulnerable. So open. What he feels like her heart is on display. "I'm crazy about you."

She can't help the blush that colors her cheeks.

"For so long, I've had these feelings, and I've gone on dates, but it's never worked out, and I've always known it was because they weren't you."

She smiles timidly. "Okay, H. I'll still take you on a date."

He leans his forehead on hers. "I can't wait."

"I really want to kiss you, but I'm a gentleman. and I want to do this right by you." Harry runs his thumb gently over her bottom lip. She releases a small sigh, her breath warming his thumb.

"Can't tonight count as a date?" She's looking from his eyes to his lips.

Harry laughs loving the extra attention.

"I like to be wined and dined, too, Peach."

She sighs. "I sure know to pick them."

A kiss to her forehead and he backs away. "Drive safe, Peach."

She drives off a smile on both their faces.

"Okay, I know I was the one who was supposed to pick you up, but I really need you to come for me."

She's sitting next to the steps that lead to her door cradling her wrist to her chest, cursing the last wobbly step she has yet to fix.

Maybe Harry will help her fix it sometime soon.

"I'm not going to ask why I'll be there in five," Harry replies.

"I live 15 minutes away!" she screams, "You better be driving safely, or I'll punch you."

"Sorry Peach, I meant to say see you in ten."

She hangs up and shoves her phone in her bag and ponders if she should get up or not.

She pulls her hand away from her chest a little and sees that it looks okay, thankfully she didn't put rings on today; otherwise, they might have been stuck on her fingers. She looks at her nails and smiles because her lilac nails didn't chip. She did them last night because Harry loves this color.

Harry arrives and gets out in a hurry that he almost trips over her.

"Watch it, H." She mumbles, playing with a rolly polly that she found next to her bag. "You almost killed Eric."

Harry stares down at her, not sure what's going on, but gives her time.

"Our date is for you to drive me to urgent care because I've had an accident." She smiles up at him like it's the most normal thing in the world.

"Can't say I've ever had someone take me there," he answers, his gaze locked on her swollen wrist.

"I know you will remember me forever and ever for this. Now help me up, my butt is officially numb."

He walks her to his car and goes as far as putting her seatbelt on for her.

"Want to tell me how it happened?"

"I was walking down the steps, and my shoe got stuck in the bottom step I have yet to fix. Instead of landing on my face, I put my hands out, and now my left wrist is hurting," she pouts, looking at harry. "I was supposed to fix it this Sunday. I got the supplies in the doorway, ready to go.

"Does it hurt?" he asks, concerned because it is swelling up and the bruising only makes it look worse.

"Nope, I got a high pain tolerance," she winks.

"I'll keep that in mind." He jokes, but gosh, that sure got him tight in his pants.

"I know it's not broken because it doesn't look weird but also not a fracture because it would hurt if I touched my fingers, but they move fine. I just want to know what kind of sprain it is. How long I need to keep it rested and all that fun stuff."

Harry looks at her, not at all surprised she knows so much about the injury.

"I wasn't always accident-prone. I did sports, and high school division one was tough. I went through lots of icing and taping. The trainer and I were on first name bases. I ended up helping her a lot. She made me take this short course where I learned the basics."

Harry smiles because although this date is unconventional, he sure is learning more about his Peach.

They are surprised to see the urgent care waiting room pretty empty. She gives her name, and she's handed a clipboard. Harry is quick to take it out of her hand and begins to fill it out.

"I should be scared that you know my social security but I'm not."

"Remember, two summers ago, you wanted to go to Lake Tahoe for a week, and we rented that cabin, and we decided to get drunk together because you didn't drink and only wanted to know how it felt. You only felt safe enough to do it with only me. Well, I decided not to get drunk that night so that I take care of you. You swore you were going to die and proceeded to sing your social security to me in a song until I could recite it back to you."

She nods as if trying to think back to that day.

"That day is nonexistent to me." she laughs. "Alcohol sucks. Don't need that in me ever."

"I drink it for the both of us to remember."

"Yeah, cause your tolerance is high; it must be the British in you," she says, bumping his shoulder softly.

She peeks over to look at the question he's on, and it's asking when her last period was. She's about to answer when she sees he wrote in the correct days. She doesn't comment on it.

"Do you believe in soulmates?."

Harry turns to look at her with his bright green eyes. “Yeah, it’s a nice thought. Have someone who completes you and understands you like no one else.”

“I know it’s our first date, but we’ve been friends for over three years and since the moment we met I was hit with this ease and safety when I’m around you. I think you might be my soulmate.”

"Oh yeah, what does being your soulmate entail?" He’s grinning because he knows she’s right.

"Lots of cookies and cinnamon rolls. Hmmm...cuddles laughs and lots of kisses. Like lots of them."

Harry’s smile goes into full bloom because they haven't even shared the first kiss, and she knows she wants this with him.

"I can live with that."

"That’s cool, I wasn't asking."

Two hours later, they walk out with a small bag from the pharmacy and her wrist wrapped in a bandage.

"Next part of our date is," she pauses and gestures to Harry to do the drum roll "Ice cream!" she shouts, and Harry cheers with her.

"But there's a twist." she turns in her seat to look at him. "You have to guess the ice cream flavor I'm thinking of, or this date ends now."

"We're going to Scoops," He sees her nod and continues on, "That is where you like to get a new flavor each time, but I know after an injury, you crave caramel."

"Final answer then, H."

"Gold Medal Ribbon"

She leans back in her seat. "That is correct," she says proudly. "Let's get some pizza too because I need food to take these pills."

"Pizza, ice cream. Then my place or yours."

She thinks about it real hard. As much as she loves Harry's bed, she needs her favorite blanket tonight. "Let's go back to mine."

Harry takes off in the direction of their favorite ice cream shop, Scoops, that is conveniently next to the place where they order their pizza.

They are lying in her bed together, moving there after watching US per Harry's choice. Harry helped her with her night routine and even tried to brush her teeth, but she reminded him she was ambidextrous. A fancy way of telling Harry she was talented with both hands. That caused Harry to go red and leave her standing in her bathroom alone.

She's getting sleepy, and she blames it on the painkillers. She doesn't want to sleep because then it would mark the end of their date. Although it was not a traditional dinner, she had a great time because it was Harry.

"I'm sorry, I didn't wine and dine you properly." She's close to tears because no guy wants to go on a date to a hospital then go home to eat pizza. "It's probably been the worst date you've ever been on, and worst I didn't get to walk you to the door and kiss you."

"Peach," he starts, and she looks at him with glossed eyes. "This was the best first date. It will always be the most memorable because it was with you."

She smiles slightly.

"Want to know a secret" he grins at her nodding her head shyly. "You're my last first date."

She blushes at his words because she knows the meaning behind it. He means she's the one he's going to be with forever.

"Then will you seal the deal, Mr. Romantic, and kiss me."

He pets her hair gently. "I want it to be perfect."

"Every moment with you is perfect."

Harry's heart skips a beat at her words. He's never said no to her before, and he isn't going to start now.

All their first date kisses have led them to this moment, the final one. All the heartbreak they went through was done so that when the right person came around, they would know how to cherish and protect that love.

She feels her heart beating so fast she wasn't able to catch a proper breath. His head that just seconds ago was declaring his emotions to her was no buzzing with anticipation. She felt his breaths on her cheeks. He watched her eyelids flutter, then close. Then their lips met.

Romance novels do no justice to how it feels to kiss the person you were waiting on forever to kiss. It's not fireworks and sparks.

It's better, it's much better.

It feels as if your soul is at peace. A gentleness flows through them at the love that is being exchanged. It's the feeling of coming home, a sense of wanting, and acceptance. It was something explainable, and they can't wait to experience more of that.

Harry pulls away far enough to look at her shut eyes and smile that's gracing her face. She opens them, and he's met with them shining as bright as the stars outside.

"Perfect," she whispers, her right hand coming up to gently stroke the dimples on his face.

Harry turns his head gently and places a kiss on her palm. She sighs in contentment. He settles on his side and brings her hand down to rest on her stomach as he intertwines their hands together. Her left arm elevated on a stack of blankets and pillows as to allow it to heal; her back pressed to his. They fit perfectly.

There under the light of the moon, they fell asleep with their hearts full.

It’s the start of a relationship, one with struggles, laughs, and many firsts together but most importantly filled with an ever growing love for one another.

December 2020

"Do you think she'll hug you first or me?"

"I'm her son, Peach," he states as if her question was absurd.

"I bet you 50," she says.

"Dollars, quid, kisses, or what" he replies with a smirk on his face.

"Spanks," she replies earnestly.

"Kinky"

"Start walking, I see your luggage that has all the presents."

Harry arrives and parks the car, and she all dives out of the car. She rushes to the front door and puts Harry's key in to unlock the door. She knows it's as much her home as it is his.

"Anne," she shouts, not seeing anyone in the living room. She takes her shoes off but leaves her coat on.

Anne walks out of the kitchen, she rushes to give her a hug brushing off Harry standing right next to her. She smirks at Harry, and he just rolls his eyes, but honestly, he might just burst from happiness at how much his mom loves his Peach.

"Can you believe our dear Harold brought his girlfriend here to meet you, and he didn't even let you know." She begins her tale trying her best to hold in her smile

Harry closes the door and is not at all surprised to see his mom pull her closer in a hug, thinking she was serious.

Well, she was.

"Hi mum, I would love a hug. Your youngest and only son is home."

"Is she serious? Where is the girlfriend?" she questions him right away. "Do you have her waiting outside?"

"You're holding her." He replies honestly to his mum.

Anne pulls back to look at the girl in her arms, and Harry can't help but laugh at his mother's face. She has a million-dollar smile on her face and nods to reassure Anne that it's true. Anne lets out a little scream before bringing her in for a tighter hug. Harry approaches, and Anne pulls him in to join the group hug. It's a lovely welcome home.

"It's not even Christmas, and this is the best gift I could have received."

Anne smiles and comes close to crying when seeing them reach for each other, like two magnets being pulled together. Hands intertwined and smiles wide. She sees their love loud and clear.

"Oh, does your sister know." Anne suddenly worried if she was the last to know.

"Nope, Harry wanted to let you know together."

"Well, she shouldn't belong. How long have you been together?"

Harry grins, "Is it crazy to say it feels like forever." Y/N grins up at him and gives him a quick peck on his cheek. "Got together in March. When the klutz got her wrist sprained." Y/N elbowed him fast and hard enough to leave him gasping for air.

There's a knock on the door, and they know it's Gemma's boyfriend because she would have walked right in.

"Darlin', go into the kitchen. We'll tell Gemma Harry wants to introduce her to his girlfriend, and that'll be your cue."

Anne's so excited that they do as they say.

It's safe to say that day was full of hugs, smiles, and laughs.

It's cold out, but Y/N doesn't seem to mind. She's got a blanket around her as she sits on the back steps of the house. She looks out and knows she'd be happy here forever.

"Peach, you're going to freeze out here."

"Not if you come sit by me" She smiles knowing he's not going to say no to her. Harry shuffles over to her quickly unwrapping the blanket to wrap them both in the warmth it’s providing.

"I meant it when I said I'd move across the pond with you."

Harry pulls her close and practically has her sitting in his lap. He rests his head on top of hers.

"I know you did." He stops to press a gentle kiss to her hair. "You've got family there and your job. I got mine too." He sighs as if he's trying to convince himself why they shouldn't

"Not to brag or whatever, but I work at one of the best companies. Top two in the nation, I'm sure they'd allow me a transfer or give me an excellent reference because not to brag again, but I'm amazing at my job.

Harry acts like he's going to drop her causing her to scream, and she wraps her arms around his neck tightly.

"You also want to expand your company. Who better to run the branch in London than the man himself."

Harry groans. "You make it sound so easy."

"That's because it is, with you, it always has been."

She nuzzles her nose into his neck, causing him to smile because it's cold, but he doesn't let her know because he likes having her this close.

"You'd move across the ocean with me," he repeats as if still not believing it. "What's the catch?"

"A promise of forever with you," she whispers, kissing his neck softly.

"With you forever seems too short."

Harry lets her lean in to peck his lips.

"I'll support you no matter what, I'm all in with you, and I'll always support all your dreams."

She lifts her arm to rest on his cheek, and she strokes him gently. He hums in content, knowing there is no better place in this world than in her arms.

"I may be your lover now, but I will always be your friend."

It’s true Harry thinks as much as their relationship has changed she always has his best interest in mind and vice versa.

Best friends and lovers.

She leans in and brushes her lips to his. She laughs a little because hers have gone a little dry with the cold, but Harry's stay soft and welcoming. He closes the gap wanting to feel the heat her kisses bring him. Their lips move in sync, a dance only they know. It's soft, and slow just like this moment. Harry pours all his love into this kiss and feels her do the same. They pull apart close enough to still feel each other's breath. Small kisses, always being shared.

There, in Harry's mother's backyard on a cold December night, Harry and Y/N promise forever and more to each other.

Thank you for reading Always Be Your Friend! I love this story that shows a story of two friends who loved each other but were never brave enough to say it until they finally did. A pinch of angst and a load of fluff later I’m still in love with loud Y/N and workaholic Harry. Thank you to @oh-honey-styles @for-fucks-sake-h @andwhenshesays for creating Pick Your Poison Fic Challenge because it was a true joy to take time and write this story (even if there where times I did not like parts of my story.)

Here’s the pypfc masterlist to check out everyone else’s stories!

please please please let me know what you though of it here. I love hearing your thoughts it means so much to me. Love you all - Angie

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles writing #harry styles fics #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles angst #pypfc

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123goth · 3 years

Text

The syndicated man

“Oh, I swear to God, if you don’t start spinning this goddamn instant, I’m gonna smash your glass in and make the toaster watch.” Gripping the edges of my microwave, tightly enough to feel its corners digging into my palms, I growled and gave it a hearty shake. This animalistic roar echoed off my kitchen’s green floors, and another mighty peal of thunder sounded outside.

A flash of lightning painted the room a strange shade of white-olive, the tile catching the glint, and all at once, I felt as though I were the god of storms, speaking my almighty willpower into the microwave that night.

The appliance whirred. It bent to me. And dully, the light came on. The timer blinked. And the leftover pizza began to twirl. And that was that. I sighed, deeply, slumping back against the countertop as the sky finally opened.

The patter of rain filled the building.

This routine could not have come from a sane man, I realized. Sane men did not anthropomorphize their microwaves. They did not threaten to kill their microwaves. They did not inflict psychological torture on their toasters.

Crash!

I jolted. It was that special time of night when the dude in the apartment above seemed to trip and knock everything over. Clank. Bang. Thud! Kaboom! I winced. Was he okay?

“Shut up!” My voice was hoarse. With a long-practiced motion, I pulled the broom from the nearby wall and gave the ceiling four good thumps. And then silence.

I caught my reflection in the oven door. There I stood, armed with a broom, with my shoulders hunched like the world’s worst action figure. I came with a super-hydraulic striped bathrobe, patchy facial hair, and a crooked lip, which healed badly after some guy clocked me in high school.

The microwave beeped. And leaning the broom against the wall, I tugged it open with a grunt to pull out the bubbling grease sponge I was going to eat that night.

I grimaced, knocking the microwave closed with my hip, flicking off the light, and dragging myself into the living room, where I dropped down on the sofa in front of the TV.

The sofa was old, covered in faded brown flowers, and in truth, the television was not much newer. I got them both at the same thrift store—although the attendant would not give me a deal. I wrote them a pretty nasty review that night.

But placing the plate on the cushion to my left, I scooped up the slice in one hand and shoved it into my mouth. My nostrils flared at the sour sensation on my tongue, my taste buds screaming: “No, no, not like this. Anything but this. Just drink actual poison or something.”

I dropped the pizza back onto the plate with a grunt. So much for dinner. I would starve to death.

Michael had been the cook. That night, two years ago, when I sunk into a chair at our kitchen table, my tie already undone, something was boiling on the stove. He had even arranged the alphabet magnets on the fridge to say cutesy shit like, ‘bake the world a better place.’

He did that a lot. I thought it was stupid and told him so, but he was good with words. And I wasn’t.

The little television on the counter was playing a Password rerun.

I should have said something that night. I should have said that whatever was boiling smelled great, or looked good, or that he had worked hard on it. But I didn’t.

“The prick finally did it, Mikey,” I mumbled instead. “He fired me.”

“Oh…oh, it’s okay! We’ll figure it out. You’re good at so many things. You’ll land on your feet.” And he draped two arms over my shoulders, squeezing them tight. But we did not figure it out, and I was not good at anything. And I realize now those were the only two times Michael had ever lied to me.

But screw him. And screw that job. And screw that fridge. And screw the fancy cheeses he kept in it. And screw how much rent that place was asking. And screw me for taking it out on him.

I sighed again. All I did these days was starve and sigh and fight with the microwave. And it was my damn fault. So, I would sit here and feel sorry for myself and mourn for the rest of my life.

Leaning forward, my bones creaking, I manually clicked on the television. Another flash of lightning sparked outside, and the screen came to life in a flurry of static and snow.

Click.

I moved through the channels, one hand on the dial and one on the antenna, twisting it left and right.

Click.

“Romance. The new fragrance….”

Click.

“Italia right in your microwave! New pizza from….”

Click.

“Welcome back to our 24-hour Buzzwords! marathon!”

I could barely see the picture through the fuzz, but the program was some game show from the 70s, complete with a mustached host in a plaid suit.

He dragged around a narrow, wired microphone and made his way through a bright studio, shimmering orange, utterly, sickeningly orange, while a young woman with a sparkling smile, the fabulous Carla, showed off a deluxe dinette set.

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms as I slumped back into the cushion.

And all at once came another mighty crash of thunder, a rumbling noise punctuated by dude upstairs, who dropped another pot, perhaps as startled as I had been by the sound.

The rain reached a climax as if it might break the windows. Something bright darted across the darkened sky, an airplane maybe. I wonder if it had been struck by lightning. And I cried out as, with a mighty surge, the television screen flashed and sputtered out, fried.

“Oh, Christ!” I growled, throwing back my head. The microwave did this, I decided. It had gotten all its little technology buddies to act out.

I slammed the thing with my palm, once, twice, three times, each responding with only a hollow thud. And when this scientific effort failed, I climbed to my feet and dropped to all-fours to crawl around the television’s rear. The frayed carpet dug into my knees as I tugged the extension cord from the wall.

Well, at least it wasn’t smoking, I mused, something of a crude smirk finding its way to my face. Because this was funny. In a sad tragicomic kind of way, this was funny.

Even now, I could find humor in how utterly pathetic I looked, crawling around on my knees with my boxers hanging out, all because I wanted to watch lesser-known game show reruns.

“Work or I’m gonna go back in that kitchen and throw your commander out the window, you hear me?” Leaning backward and sitting on my legs, I waved the cord deliberately before the television screen. And with that, I ducked back down and plugged it into the wall.

I blinked. And all I saw was light, a strange, fluorescent glow that consumed every inch of my vision.

Oh my God, I thought. I’m dead.

I electrocuted myself, and I’m dead.

My feet were planted on the ground. I was standing. I had crawled around to plug the television into the wall, but somehow, I was now standing. And I could not remember getting up.

“Welcome back to Buzzwords!”

I blinked again, and at that moment. I realized the blinding light was not white at all, but utterly, sickeningly orange. And there I was, like a moron, standing at a podium with a smile plastered across my face.

In truth, I wanted to scowl or grimace or something, but I couldn’t. My muscles ignored me. And on their own, my hands came up to applaud.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I’m your host, Buddy Guy. And we have a great show for you tonight.”

The hell?

“Let’s meet our contestants and get the game underway.” Buddy smiled broadly and walked in my direction.

I found my mouth opening of its own accord.

“Hi, Buddy! My name is John Smith. I’m from Columbus, Ohio, and I want to say hello to my wife, Betty.” These words spilled from me as if rehearsed, without my input, as though I were a passenger in my head (or, as it turned out, someone else’s).

And the absolute worst was that I could not cringe. I could not roll my eyes. I could not grunt or groan at just how saccharine I sounded, nor at the fact that my name was John Smith.

“Welcome, John. Good to have you.” Buddy Guy moved past me like an automaton, introducing a waitress from New York and a wannabe actor, who lived with his beloved roommate William of five years in Los Angeles.

And if I had to choose someone to be from this panel, it probably would have been him, because then at least I would not have a wife named Betty.

But this could not be happening; it certainly was not happening. I was not miming the motions of John Smith from Ohio. It was not 1970-whatever. And so, I truly must have been dead.

This whole illusion was that thing, that thing where synapses fire because your brain is pissed about non-existence. And if I could turn my head, which I could not, I would have peered into the audience to look for departed relatives.

But John stared forward, and so did I.

“Tonight, our contestants are competing for a stunning new kitchen set. Tell them all about it, Jack.”

An announcer from offstage began singing the praises of the sparkling refrigerator, oven range, and microwave that appeared from behind a velvet curtain. The audience lightning-sparkedooo’d and ahh’d.

And by now, Carla had emerged to point at everything, but I barely saw her. Even from this vantage point, unable to move on my own, I could catch my reflection in the oven door.

John Smith was, well, a man, yes, but in a strange, overly generic way. He, and by extension, I, had an average build, brown hair, brown eyes, and a decidedly uncrooked lip, one nobody had ever socked in.

He was the sort of person you might see in a department store catalog, I thought, or in a stock photograph of an office: unassuming and smiley.

But I could not look long.

My head was turning as the unflappable Buddy Guy made his way once again in my direction.

“Let’s reveal our first puzzle,” the host smiled, and taking this cue, Carla pulled out a marker, as if from nowhere, and drew a crude approximation of a gallows on the refrigerator door.

Spinning in a little circle, red gown flashing, she then tugged open the microwave to allow a multicolored pile of alphabet magnets to spill forth from within.

It was just goddamn Hangman, I realized. And I didn’t even get to spin a wheel or anything.

“How about a letter, John?”

“V!” I cried against my will.

Oh great. John sucked at this game.

“Sorry. No ‘V’s.’”

And so, it went.

The waitress guessed a “Y,” and scored a few points. Fishing the letters from the microwave pile, Carla stuck the magnets to the fridge. The actor guessed a number in the form of a question.

I unironically said the phrase “Oh, gee!” when there were no “X’s.”

And at this rate, it took us two whole commercial breaks to get to the unimpressive:

Y_ _ M_D_ Y_ _ R B _ D. N_W LI_ IN I_

By now, the hanging man was missing only his feet.

This was hell, I thought. I had died, and I had gone to hell.

And I would be terrible at this word game forever, and that was my punishment for being mean to the dude in the apartment upstairs.

And writing that bad review of the thrift store.

And for Michael, who had only ever lied to me twice.

“I’d like to solve it, Buddy!” I grinned.

“Go ahead, John.”

“You made your bed. Now lie in it!”

There were buzzers and bells, and the audience cheered.

“That’s right, John. You made your bed. Now you’re lying in it.”

Buddy smiled at me, and for a moment, a crack appeared, something sharp and sinister behind his cheery expression. His lip twitched, and a flicking tongue, snakelike, nipped the lower part of his mustache.

“I deserve to lie in it, Buddy!”

And somehow, this was pretty goddamn funny. If I could, I would have laughed.

“Onto our next puzzle,” Buddy cut in as Carla knocked down all the letters, leaving them on the floor. She used her bare hand to smudge off the marker.

“Can I have a ‘Y,’ Buddy?”

Jesus Christ, John. How about an actual letter or something? Whatever happened to “A?”

I sighed internally. But to my surprise, Carla reached into the microwave and retrieved the red letter, placing it on the refrigerator door. John did it. He got one. I felt excited for him.

I squeezed the podium. My hands were working, I realized, and so, overcome, I squeezed, just as tightly as I had the microwave that night, finding again the sensation of willpower.

But by now, Buddy was busy with the waitress and the actor, the former somehow earning a double penalty, which made Carla draw both a head and a body on the gallows.

But when play returned to me, I was able to speak up.

“What the hell is going on?”

The host narrowed his eyes, sniffing the air.

“Guess a letter, John.”

“I don’t know. An ‘A!’”

Sifting through the alphabet pile, Carla placed two magnet letters on the fridge, but she too was giving up her pretense. There was no pointing and smiling. She stared at me with a dour, annoyed expression, as if she could not believe my gall.

“It’s ‘Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here,’” I said.

Which was a cliché, but I was realizing now that if kitsch was going to be my hell, I could at the very least lean into it.

“Well, all right. Thank you for tuning in, ladies and gentlemen. After this important message, John will be moving to the bonus round,”

Buddy said to the camera. “Are we at commercial?”

No one responded. He marched over to me, twirling the microphone cord around his hand. I looked at it and realized it may very well have been the noose with which the poor loser might be strung up.

“You’re not playing by the rules, John,” he said nonchalantly, beginning to use the wire to bind my hands together, tighter and tighter, around my wrists, his grip surprisingly firm.

“Hey! Hey!” I retorted, trying to pull away.

“Don’t be a jerk. You’ll make this harder if you resist.”

“But that’s my problem. I’m here because I’m a jerk. You can’t damn people and expect them not to be jerks.”

“Do you think you deserve to be damned, John?” the host asked me. He cocked his head to one side.

“I think your show is stupid. But I’m finding that making fun of it and John’s wife Betty probably won’t help me win it.”

“You can’t win it, John. The outcome’s already set. This marathon’s just reruns. Your life is just rerun. The same thing over and over forever. Wake up. Eat. Sleep. And you lose every time. So why should this be different, hm?” Buddy dropped his voice low, but all at once, the studio lights flared, and he spun around to face the audience. “And we’re back!”

The soundstage went dark. The cheers stopped, and it was just me and Buddy, caught in a silent spotlight. Another lamp, mounted on a ceiling somewhere in the expanse of shadows above us, shined straight down, casting the refrigerator, the microwave, and the letters, in its fluorescent glow.

“It’s just us now, John. This is the bonus round. You get four letters. You have one chance to go up and complete the puzzle. And that’s it.”

_ F _ R _ _ _ _ M _ S _ _ _

I cast my gaze at Buddy, wavering a moment, before stepping uncertainly forward into the expanse. Although I could not see the floor beneath my feet, just deep darkness, I felt its steady weight as I moved to stare at the blanks.

An eternity passed as I stared. And maybe it had. At this moment, in this place, seconds and minutes and moments, they seemed to mean so little.

I forfeit my soul.

That was it. That was the joke.

I had already done it, I knew. I had become so wrapped in the misery of my own making that I had forfeited my very self to it. And willingly.

Choice. That was it, wasn’t it? I, willpower personified, exerting it in every wrong direction. And so, moving for the pile of letters, hands still bound, I pulled them out the microwave one at a time.

I stuck the magnets in place, whispering the words aloud as they appeared on the refrigerator. And only then, with a definitive nod, did I step back to see my handiwork.

I FORGIVE MYSELF

I awoke on the floor beneath the TV with a sudden, painful gasp.

The dude upstairs dropped something. I stared a good few seconds at the ceiling. And with that, I pressed back onto the carpet and laughed, a full hearty noise, the television set’s extension cord wrapped around my fingers.

Wrestling them free, I checked my reflection on Paula sparked the screen to be safe.

And taking a few more steadying breaths, I moved for my apartment door. I tugged it open to poke my head into the hallway, craning it up the stairwell to the sole unit above mine.

“Hey, pal? Do you need help up there?”

#science fiction

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ayamari-no-goshi · 4 years

Text

Eidolon 10 | (T)

ff.net | AO3

Fandom: Danny Phantom (DP)

Summary: AU: What started off as the result of a simple act of rebellion ends up causing his life to spin out of control. How will young Danny cope with the results as well as a past that has a strange habit of coming back to haunt him.

Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, kidnapping, and various other things

Parings: hints of Danny/Sam much later on

Notes: originally uploaded to Ff.net. Cross-posted to AO3 and tumblr

10. Aftermath

"So… What do you think he is?" Tucker asked her as they made their way to the kitchen to grab some lunch. It was about noon, and since Danny was still not awake -or showed any signs of waking, he had decided to put food on the top of his priority list. "Don't get me wrong. I'm thankful Danny went all glowy and beat that thing, but something that weird… And you got to admit, it was pretty weird…. Couldn't have come from a human."

"'Glowy'?" Sam asked while trying not to laugh. Oddly enough, it did help to lighten her bad mood brought on by exhaustion, fear, and paranoia. After Danny had somehow magically transported them back to her front yard and passed out, she and Tucker managed to sneak back into her house while carrying him and make it into her room undetected by her parents. Tiring as that and the chase from earlier was she was unable to convince herself they were safe and began constantly checking the window for any signs of the creature. Needless to say, by morning, she hadn't been able to fall asleep.

He just shrugged as he opened the large kitchen door and allowed Sam to pass through first. "I don't know what else to call it. I guess 'luminous' could work, but it doesn't really fit either."

"And 'glowy' does?"

"Probably not, but at least it's specific."

Though she would never admit it out loud, he did have a point. When Danny had taken a stand against the monster, ghost… whatever it actually was, it almost looked as if tendrils of greenish-white energy was wrapping around him. As it became more noticeable, it gave his body the illusion it was actually glowing. Even more startling was the change in his eyes and hair color. His eyes changed to a toxic shade of green which shouldn't exist in this world, and his hair had become a brilliant shade of white with a silvery sheen. After Danny had passed out, the white color seemed to seep out, leaving behind his naturally black hair after a couple minutes. Hopefully his eyes had returned to their natural color too.

"Anyway… what do you think we should take up to Danny?" By the time he spoke, Tucker had already started putting together a rather impressive lunch meat and mayo sandwich on one of the white marble counters. While Sam could not even look at the growing monstrosity, she was impressed by the knowledge he had of her kitchen. He had been over way too many times.

She thought for a moment as she searched one of the polished mahogany cabinets for some supplies of her own. "Well… probably bland foods like toast or rice would be best. Since he tends to get sick after anything weird happens to him, those are the only types of food that shouldn't cause any problems…"

"I didn't… even think about that…" he replied between chews, much to Sam's dismay. "Whatever that power… or weirdness is, it really seems to do a number on him."

"Yeah… and let's just hope it doesn't kill him in the process."

This particular episode had been particularly bad for Danny. Before carrying him into the house, she had checked his vital signs only to find no sign of life. His pulse was nonexistent, his breathing had ceased, and his body was freezing to the touch. Both of them had begun to panic and tried to remember what they could of CPR. Luckily for Tucker -what was it with guys and CPR? - Danny let out a shaky breath even before they got a chance to start.

Unsure what to make of the situation, they just stood there, dumbfounded, for a moment before deciding to take the seemingly unconscious and not dead boy into the house. If it was any other person, she would have called an ambulance without a second thought, but there was no way such strange events could be explained or probably even treated by a doctor. Besides, if he seemed fine now, it was unlikely a doctor would be able to do anything. Originally, they decided whoever woke up first would make sure Danny was still among the living, but with her being unable to sleep she checked on him regularly. His breathing and pulse seemingly remained steady, but his body, though a little warmer, still remained very cool to the touch; Combined with his naturally pale skin kept causing her to compare him to a cadaver.

An awkward tension filled the air for a moment while they made their lunches. Unnerved, Sam was about to say something, but a strange look from Tucker stopped her. "What's wrong?"

"Sam… this might sound weird, but what if that's the point? What if this power that's taken hold of him really is going to kill him?" he asked as he put his sandwich down and looked her in the eyes. "Didn't Danny say something before about how the ghost you two saw in the cemetery said that he didn't belong to this world? And didn't it also suggest he didn't have a lot of time left? And didn't that thing that chased us last night call him 'Ghost Child'…. I don't know about you, but it just seems like, if you think about it, everything's suggesting he's going to die."

"Tucker, how can you say something like that?" she snapped while trying to prevent any emotion, save for anger, from crossing her face. During her vigil, similar thoughts had crossed her mind, but she tried to completely ignore them. She had noticed Danny always seemed drained and weak after the power manifested, almost as if his 'energy or' life was its power source. It seemed quite possible it could kill him if it continued, but the cryptic hints they kept getting suggested maybe that was what the power needed.

No! She wasn't going to think like that! Nothing as horrible as that was going to happen to Danny. They were going to somehow figure out how to help him, and she didn't need such terrible thoughts floating around her mind. She cringed as she once again tried to suppress them. Having the idea be said aloud seemed to somehow confirm it, even with absolutely no proof. "Let's just focus on finishing so we can get back to Danny. I wonder if he's awake yet…"

"If you say so… but before we do that, can you please explain why your toaster's floating?"

Sam had to chuckle as she watched Tucker begin to panic and quickly put space between him and unassuming yet levitating toaster. Glancing at it to make sure it was actually plugged in and in use; she shrugged and moved over to retrieve its contents. "It's from Denmark. This usually happens."

"Wait… what?"

….

Surprisingly, when they returned to Sam's room, Danny was awake and sitting up on the deep purple bed. He looked terrible. His blue eyes were dull, and the dark rings under them attested to just how tired he really was. His body was also incredibly sore and stiff, but nothing more seemed to be wrong with him. Sam couldn't help but be relieved. As she watched him thankfully accept the tray of food, it seemed as if there would be no lasting problems from the night's events.

After finishing his light meal, Danny hesitantly asked what happened the previous night. Unsure where to start, she looked to Tucker for some help, and within a few minutes, the combined effort of the two got him up to speed. He accepted it silently, though Sam did notice he kept looking down at his hands. It was almost as if he was checking to make sure they still looked the same. It unnerved her slightly, but she tried to push it aside as she suggested a good break from all the weirdness would be a monster movie marathon. Both Danny and Tucker gave her looks suggesting they questioned her sanity, but after a few minutes of persuasion and a mention of the room sized television in the entertainment room, they happily changed their minds.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

It was official. The best way to recover from a mysterious paranormal fight was to sit and watch movies in Sam's gigantic theater. Not only did Danny get to relax in some of the most comfortable chairs he had ever encountered, but the ability to laugh with his friends as they poked fun at the terrible effects further alleviated the stress weighing down on him. Surprisingly, they were able to get through three movies without being interrupted.

After glancing at fancy clock hanging from the wall, he realized it was almost dinner time. "Hey, I should probably be getting home soon. Knowing Winston, he'll be getting worried."

"Do you think you're up to walking home?" Sam asked as she gave him an appraising glance. "You're welcome to stay another night."

A chuckle escaped him as he thought about her parents' reactions to the suggestion. Although he had only briefly met them, something told him the couple was already not too fond of him. "I think I can handle it." That was an obvious lie. His body still felt as if he had been put inside of an industrial dryer on spin mode, but how else was he going to get home? He didn't want to impose on Sam, Winston would start asking questions, and he certainly didn't have the money to call a taxi. "Besides, the walking might help with the stiffness."

"Or it could make it worse. Seriously dude, you should be taking it as easy as you can. Kicking some serious butt can be really tiring." Tucker's tone was playful and encouraging, but Danny knew he was trying to hide his own concerns about the strange event. Judging by how Sam and Tucker were acting when they entered the room after he woke up, the two most likely had a serious conversation about what happened. Though they tried to make him feel as if nothing was wrong, he could sense their worry.

He was about to start arguing but Sam quickly cut him off. "If you really think you should leave, at least I can do is to have my driver give you a ride home. I mean, you did save our lives."

"Thanks… but are you sure..? Wait, you have your own driver?" he asked, unsure if he had heard her correctly.

Sam fidgeted for a moment before answering. "Well, he's technically one of the drivers for my family, but I'm on better terms with him than my parents…. So, he's kinda unofficially mine."

"There's more than one…? Never mind." He cut himself off after a moment. "I don't want to know the specifics." The lives of the rich were hard to comprehend.

…..

After about a half an hour, the three of them were in the back of a stretch limo complete with its own mini bar stocked with several foreign drinks. Neither Sam nor Tucker actually needed to come, but they refused to let him go home alone. Danny just figured it was their way of showing concern. Though he didn't really need it, he didn't mind as their presence made the short ride more enjoyable.

When he arrived home, he was expecting a quite scene. Winston's silver Chevy would be sitting in the driveway, and while Winston himself would either be tending his modest garden or doing some paperwork in the study. But, instead of normalcy, chaos greeted him.

Yellow police tape had been placed around the perimeter of the yard and across the open front door. Several police cars were sitting, not only in front of the house, but also in his and the neighbor's driveway. A few officers were standing in the yard talking to each other while wearing serious expressions. Another was entering the house along with a couple people in white uniforms. Before the limo could even come to a stop, Danny jumped out of it and ran to the house, only to be stopped by some of the officers.

"I'm Danny, Winston's charge," he nearly shouted after one of the officers grabbed him while trying to explain he could not enter a crime scene. "What happened? Where's Winston? Does he know? Is he alright?"

"Wait, you're Wolf's kid?" another office asked as he approached. "We put out an alert saying you were missing. So you weren't in the house last night?"

"No, I…"

"Excuse me, Sir," Sam interrupted as she and Tucker ran over. "Danny was with us last night. He was staying over my house."

"He's not in trouble, is he?" There was a noticeable shiver within Tucker's voice, but he was doing his best not to show any other sign of nervousness. "Because we can totally vouch for him! We were with him for most of the day yesterday."

The officer held up his hand as a signal to let him talk. A trouble look crossed his face as he removed his hat and ran his free hand through his graying hair. After collecting himself, he held his hand out for Danny to shake. "I wish we could have met under friendlier circumstances, but I'm Sergeant Ross. We were called to your house after one of your neighbors called in some concerns about the safety of your dad. They thought they had heard gun shots last night but shrugged it off until they realized they never saw him leave the house today. We even received a confirmation from his work that he never arrived."

Danny bit his lip as he listened quietly. Winston almost never missed work, even if he was very sick. So, knowing that, something had to have gone seriously wrong, and Danny wasn't exactly sure if he was ready to find out what.

"I hate to say it, but it was a good thing we did decided to check on him," Ross continued as he looked him in the eye. "Your dad's currently in J. Marley Central Hospital and is being treated for several severe injuries from… what we think was a home invasion."

"No... That's impossible…" Danny stuttered after a few confused moments. "Winston's an ex-marine… He would have fought back. No one could have done that much damage…"

"Son, take it easy. This isn't the time for this…"

"You don't understand! Winston can take care of himself! There's a gun under his mattress for goodness' sake! He's always been prepared for something like this to happen! Some lame burglar couldn't have put him in the hospital!"

"Wait… did you say that Wolf owned a gun?" Ross asked carefully. "What kind was it?"

"I'm not exactly sure…. It's not like I saw it every day or anything," he replied gruffly as he tried to keep his feelings quelled long enough to try and answer the question. It wasn't like the officer had anything to do with Winston being hurt, but he certainly didn't want to be answering any questions. "I know it's some type of hand gun…. Maybe it's a .28… The box of bullets was sitting in the shelf on the study."

A concerned expression crossed the Sergeant's face as he called over to another officer. "Have any of the men found a firearm in or around the premises?" When the man shook his head, Ross' expression became grim. He then told the man to grab a couple of the other officers and search the area again, as well as finding a record of Winston's gun registration. After the other officer left, Ross turned back to Danny. "Well, I can't say I'm pleased by this new information… But I'm glad you mentioned it." He gave the boy a searching look before he spoke again. "I'm going to need to take you down to the precinct so you can give your official statement and maybe answer a few questions. Then we're going to need to go through your house and see if anything has been stolen."

"Wait… now?" Danny half demanded, half choked. "You're not going to let me see Winston first?"

"He's in the hospital…"

"You told me that, but you haven't told me anything else!" He had to fight to keep his voice and hands under control. Something in the back of his mind told him the officer would not appreciate it if he started waving his hands around while he was agitated. "Winston's all I have! I need to see for myself just how bad it is. I'll answer any question you have afterwards, but please, please let me see him first!"

"I can't let you do that."

"Why? Wait… I know what's going on… You think I did this." His eyes narrowed as he pointed at the officer. "I can't believe you! You're supposed to be trying to find whoever did this to Winston! Instead, you're wasting your time looking at me. I wasn't even home last night!" He took a breath to try and calm down for a moment as Tucker put his hand on his shoulder in a comforting gesture. With each breath, he could feel himself shaking in rage. "If anything, you should be looking at that Masters guy…"

It was the officer's turn to be suspicious. "…You don't mean Vlad Masters, do you?"

"I think so… He and Winston don't seem to get along…"

"And don't forget! He's the one who snuck into your house that one day!" Tucker added as he gave a shudder. "That's the day we heard Mr. Wolf yelling. No offense dude, but he's really frightening when he's mad."

"Tell me about it…"

"Back up a minute," the officer interrupted while rubbing his eyes. "You're telling me, Vlad Masters broke into your house. What business does someone like him have in your house?"

Could this officer be any more irritating? Danny had to bite back a sarcastic reply as he answered the officer. "He said he was checking up on Winston since he had to reschedule a meeting… with I guess one of his assistants. According to him, our front door was open, and he went inside to make sure everything was okay." As the officer wrote down something on a little tablet that was pulled out of his pocket, Danny decided he had enough. "Look! I'll answer any of your questions later, but I'm not doing anything else until I get to see Winston!"

….

After a twenty minute standoff, Danny finally got his way. An irritated Sergeant Ross had escorted him to the hospital after finally realizing he wasn't going to get any answers. After the two stepped into the waiting area, he ran to the nearest available teller and practically demanded to know where Winston was being treated. After an agonizingly slow few minutes, he finally got an answer.

In retrospect, running as fast as he could through the halls was probably one of the worst things he could do in the hospital, but he really didn't care. He easily managed to avoid any obstacle he encountered. Who knew there would be so many movable computers, monitors, and people in those maze-like hallways? When he finally reached Winston's room, he was met with a wall of people. Several doctors all wearing dark expressions seemed to be deep in discussion as they blocked the only door into the room.

Unsure how to interrupt the doctors, he was happy to realize Winston's room had a window. Peeking in, he felt his breath hitch as he realized just how serious the attack on his guardian had been. Winston was unconscious and hooked up to a respirator. Several monitors were hooked up to the man, and two IV bags, one of blood and one of clear fluid, were also put in place. What little bit of skin was not covered by bandage or machine looked bruised and swollen. The overall image made Winston look like he was fragile enough to break if he was touched. Danny had to try and hold back tears as he wondered who could have done such a thing.

"How the hell did you get here so fast?" an out of breath voice asked from somewhere behind him making him jump. He turned around to see a rather winded Sergeant Ross giving him a searching look. "I couldn't go more than a few feet without out running into something."

Danny didn't say anything as he turned back towards the window. He didn't want to have Winston out of his sight for more than a few minutes. He just had this feeling something terrible would happen if he did.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but are you part of Winston's family?" A person wearing a white coat came into the periphery of his vision. Curious, he turned to see a young female doctor extending her hand to him. "I'm Dr. Sabo, and I'm currently in charge of managing him while he's here."

He hesitantly took her hand and explained who he was. "How… how is he?" Even he could hear the unease in his voice.

"That's the big question, isn't it?" Dr. Sabo frowned as she looked towards the window. "I hate to say it, but it's hard to tell at this point. Winston received several odd wounds from the attack."

"Odd…? How so?" the sergeant asked, surprising both Danny and the doctor.

She bit her lip as she tried to find the words to describe her thoughts. "It's the first time any of us have seen wounds like that. They almost seem to be large bullet wounds, but the edges of them act more like burns. And, to make matters worse, we were unable to locate any residual bullets there might have been. We're really at a loss for what happened to him."

"Will he be able to answer any questions?"

"I'm not sure. Winston, although stable, is in a terrible condition. He's going to have to be watched very carefully over the next several days. We're going to do our best to see that he heals, but it will be up to his body to make sure he recovers. From what I can see of him, he appears to be in very good shape for his age, so we're hopeful… but, you can never tell."

The world started to spin as Danny listened to the doctor go into more details about Winston's condition with the sergeant. He allowed himself to slide down the wall and sit as he tried to get some sort of grasp on the situation. He never thought he would be in this situation. He had once joked that Winston was too strong to ever be taken down by anything other than a renegade bus, but this had shown him Winston was human, just like everyone else.

Danny couldn't take it anymore. In an uncharacteristic moment of weakness, he buried his face in his hands and allowed the tears to come. It was a small comfort, but if he was going to have to deal with the police over the next several hours, he was going to need to be as strong as possible.

=======================================

Anyways, a couple things:

J. Marley Central Hospital is not a real place… at least I think so. I named it to keep in line with the ghost theme of the show. Jacob Marley was the first ghost who appeared to Ebenezer Scrooge in Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol.

Dr. Sabo and Sergeant Ross aren't all that important. They're really only there for this section.

And, can I just say that hospitals are the most confusing things on earth? Cuz, they are. There are at least fifteen hospitals within an hour and a half of my house, and all of them are mazes. The floor plans are ridiculous. You can't walk through them without encountering workers, movable computers and/or other medical devices, and let's not forget the robots. Don't ask about that last one. It is really funny to see them having a Mexican standoff though.

#Eidolon #fanfic #fanfiction #danny phantom #danny phantom au #dp #dp au #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #vlad plasmius #vlad masters #supernatural #paranormal #fantasy

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treatian · 4 years

Text

The Chronicles of the Dark One: Breaking the Curse

Chapter 14: Change of Plans

Fucking Mayor Regina Mills.

Everything had been fine! Just fine! Perfectly, beautifully fine! Hell, he'd even gone so far as to say it was damn well fucking dandy!

Yes, Sheriff Graham was dead, but in one visit to his shop, he'd managed to affirm Emma Swan's intent to become the new Sheriff, and he'd given her a tool to share with Henry so that the pair could continue to do their work behind Regina's back. All in all, it should have amounted to a pretty damn good day for him.

But Regina Fucking Mills…sometimes she reminded him why he would have killed her in their world if he hadn't needed her so badly. He'd just cleaned up one of her messes for himself and the entire town, and just as he had, she'd gone and made another one when his back was turned like the child that she was.

It had been the middle of the afternoon, and he'd been feeling good about everything that had happened when Dove had called him, and his stomach dropped in his belly. Dove was a man of few words. It was why he preferred to use text messages for communication. So when Dove actually picked up his phone and called him, it was rarely a good thing.

"This better be good, Mr. Dove.

"Yeah, it is. Emma Swan came to see you this morning?" he questioned.

"Yes, to talk about her taking the Sheriff position."

"That's what I figured. I hate to burst your bubble, but it didn't last long. Regina just fired her."

The words traveled through him like electricity. His body shook and tingled as he considered the words he'd just heard, the words he hoped he hadn't heard. He felt his heart thudding away through his chest as he tried to contain his anger.

"You're sure?"

"I mean…I wasn't inside, but after she met with you, she went back to the police station. Regina showed up. A few minutes later, Emma left the station, clearly angry, with a small box of items in her hands. She practically threw it into the bug before she drove off. But she wasn't wearing any kind of badge, and it's too early for her to be going home. She's a nine to five kind of girl; she doesn't leave early. I stayed long enough to see Regina leave after she did. The pair stared at each other, the Mayor smiled, then locked the police building herself, and that was that. They got in their cars and left. Emma slammed the door hard enough I thought she'd break a window."

"Where is she now?"

"Back at the apartment, hasn't moved, and Mary Margaret isn't home from school yet."

Fucking Regina Mills. He should have known. He should have known that the woman who lost years of her life pursuing Snow White wouldn't just roll over and let Emma Swan take the role that had been held by her lap-wolf. He'd been planning this for fourteen days. Apparently, he hadn't been the only one planning something. What the hell was she playing at.

"So the reason I'm calling is to give you a heads up, boss," Dove continued, interpreting his silence as an invitation to continue to deliver him the bad news. "My friend Will Scarlet just called to inform me that tomorrow morning Regina is supposed to hold a small press conference in her office where she plans to formally appoint Sidney Glass as the new Sheriff."

"Sidney Glass? The editor of the newspaper."

Dove chuckled. "Yeah, my thoughts exactly. The guy doesn't exactly scream 'Sheriff Material.'"

"No, but he is in the Mayor's pockets…"

Not as good as being in her pants as Sheriff Graham had been, but Sidney Glass…he was the genie, the one that Regina had convinced to murder Snow White's father. Everyone in town knew that Glass yearned for Regina. He followed after her like a puppy dog. Making him Sheriff would be laughable to everyone in town, probably even Regina. But the choice made sense for that very reason. If it was true.

"How exactly does Scarlet know this?"

"He says his sources are his own, but trustworthy."

Fuck. He loved the idea of keeping sources private until it had the potential to work against him. But Scarlet had delivered information to Dove before. Whether or not he knew that, he turned around and gave that information to him. So far, the info that he'd given had always been accurate. Which meant that time to fix this new problem was limited. So limited that he considered for one brief, weak moment just letting it go and turning his attention to some other plan or idea. But then that moment passed.

He was angry. He didn't know what Regina was playing at, what her end goal in all this was other than to get rid of Emma Swan and send the town back into its unending sleep, but he knew that his plan was worth fighting for. So he got to work. He did what he had to do in order to solve this problem. He locked the shop up early that afternoon and went home. In his dusty old home office, he found exactly what he needed. One single shelf contained everything he'd "inherited" from his aunt on Storybrooke.

It took him less than an hour to find what he needed. That was no surprise. Regina may have cast the Curse, but it was always his. It figured that would play out in Storybrooke on this level too. Regina might be the Mayor, but no one knew more about Storybrooke than Mr. Gold. And right now, that knowledge was about to pay off. What was Regina playing at? He didn't know, but if this was any indication, then there was no time to waste. He had to make a plan, a good plan, one that was going to take time. Time he'd have, but only if he could accomplish his first step before Regina had that press conference and named Sidney Glass Sheriff. He hated starting his work before he was prepared for the end, but that was just how it had to be.

He'd arrived at the same time Mary Margaret had, home from the market it appeared, although the younger, non-handicapped woman moved faster than him into the apartment. He didn't even think that she saw him. When he arrived at the door, he could hear the two women talking inside, but Emma was the one that answered the door when he knocked. There was what appeared to be a toaster under her arm. It was so broken even he didn't think he could fix it, and that was saying something. Of course, so did the look on her face. Something broken, the loud music he'd heard when he'd pulled up behind Mary Margaret, the look on her face…someone was angry. Very angry indeed. He could use that.

"Good evening, Miss Swan. Sorry for the intrusion. There's something I'd like to discuss with you."

Over her shoulder, in the kitchen, Mary Margaret suddenly chirped, "I'll let you two talk," and disappeared into another room. In this small place, their conversation wouldn't be private in the least, but he didn't particularly care. Allies in fights like these were good. And besides, it would save Emma the trouble of regurgitating every single sentence of this conversation later.

"Come on in," she exclaimed, opening the door for him.

"Thank you. I, uh…I heard about what happened. Such an injustice."

"Yeah, well, what's done is done."

He could work with anger. He could work with a willingness to fight. He couldn't work with someone willing to lay down and die. "Spoken like a true fighter."

"I don't know what chance I have. She's Mayor, and I'm…well…me."

"Miss Swan, two people with a common goal can accomplish many things. Two people with a common enemy can accomplish even more. How would you like a benefactor?"

"A benefactor?" she questioned. He smirked. Now, where had he last had a conversation like this? Ah, yes…from a man who knew how to recognize a desperate soul when he saw one. He couldn't hear Zoso now, not since he was human. But he knew enough to know the man was probably just as entertained as he was.

"You mind?" he gestured to the table, and both he and Emma took a seat. He laid the binder out on the table and opened it up, looking for what he knew was there. "You know, it really is quite shocking how few people study the town charter."

"The town charter?"

"Well, it's quite comprehensive. And the Mayor's authority? Well, maybe she's not quite as powerful as she seems. Ah!" he piqued, glancing down at his binder and finding the typewritten passage he'd located earlier. "For example: 'The office of Sheriff of Storybrooke is to be an elected position. When the office of Sheriff is in vacancy, the role of the Sheriff is to be filled by the Deputy after fourteen (14) days. If the Deputy refuses the job or is found to be unqualified, the Mayor of Storybrooke may elect a candidate to run for the office of Sheriff after a period of fourteen (14) days. If the candidate runs without opposition, then the candidate may take office. Should the candidate face opposition, then an election shall be called, and the office will be decided by popular vote of the citizens of Storybrooke, Maine.'"

He smiled as he looked up at Emma, but she only sat there with her arms crossed, looking utterly unimpressed with his work. "Beautiful," she drawled sarcastically. "What's it mean?"

"It means that Regina is allowed to appoint someone to the office of Sheriff, but that individual can only take over if they're running unopposed."

"So…"

"So…technically Regina was out of bounds by firing you. She did it because the chain of succession states that the position should have gone to you. But now that you are fired, there is a way back."

"I'm listening."

"As long as there is someone else who wants the job, then it calls for a town election. The Sheriff will be elected by the citizens of Storybrooke. Not Mayor Mills."

Something in Emma Swan's gaze shifted suddenly. There was a twitch at the corner of her mouth as if she understood suddenly what he was trying to say but was too timid to actually assume it for herself. "So…"

"So, Miss Swan, if there were someone else, a fighter, who wanted the position, fired or not, all they'd have to do to stop Regina would be to declare their intent to run."

Finally, Emma smiled in triumph.

#Rumbelle #Rumple #Rumpelstiltskin #Dark One #Mr Gold #Emma Swan #Regina Mills #Evil Queen #ouat #ouat fanfiction #fanfic

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cirilee · 4 years

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i just found a text my browser had saved on a word count website, and i apparently typed it last november while being sad - i just wanna have a place to post it, and it explains why i was gone for most of may through november last year.

if you’re interested, u can read, it’s basically just a long long long vent and i wanna save it somewhere :’)

(and if you wanna, you can tell me what u think of the whole thing, maybe share if something like that happened to you too, because man, this whole thing was WEIRD for me)

bottom line is: i’m much better now and have way better friends then back then and in general, i’m a pretty happy person again^^

My parents and me had been fighting a lot the past years. I still love them. For a while though, it was just shouting matches between us. We weren't really speaking to each other throughout january 2019 until april 2019, so i wasn't informed by them that they were planning to mOVE OUT. And the place they wanted to move to only had enough space for 2 people. now my brother and me had 3 months total to find and finance our own flats. i was desperate. 2 months i unsuccessfully searched for a job or a flat or a way to make a deposit for said flat, without any saved up money. an old school friend offered to move out together. i only saw him once every month for group activities. he was nice, but we also had a bit of a history. 3 years ago he had acted kinda scummy and tried to get me to be his girlfriend because "he couldnt find anybody else” - ending in a "movie night with friends" that turned out to be a trap, where the only one spending the night was me because he only invited me. creepy. he apologized and i forgave him and we were chill and it was normal between us. i realize now, that i should have just left him out of my life at that point. but time was running out, so i gave in and asked myself "whats the worst he could do. i’ve known this person for 12 years and the he's part of my friend group" we set up basic rules, how we would pay for stuff, etc. .. we moved in. it seemed fine. then i noticed that he talked A LOT. and he wanted A LOT of attention. after a day of working on my diploma or working at my job, he would assert himself in my room and try to engage in smalltalk. i am not the hermit type. i engaged with him, i joined in on his conversation. but when i was already tired he wouldn't accept "i'm gonna go to sleep". there was always something else he needed to talk about. I was trying to make clear to him that i needed alone time too, but no matter how honest i was, the message either didn't seem to stick, or he'd get upset and start asking me if i hated him. With that, i could have kept up with in the long run. Then he started knocking on my door. even when it was already late and i already told him i was gonna go to sleep. Repeatedly knocking on my door. At some point he just opened the door. It was 1am. I pretended to sleep. I could hear him breathing, it sounded angry. He eventually closed the door. The next morning i confronted him. He argued it away as him trying to warn me that he was going to take a shower, so that i wouldn't use the bathroom. He started commenting on how i wasn't funny enough around him. in that friend group, i'm the funny one :c. but i cant keep up that energy 24/7 (this was supposed to be a home, not a free neverending standup act, for this one guy). that confused him. the next day he asked me if i had depression. My parents had given me a griller/toaster as a parting gift (there’s a backstory for that too but anyways) my flatmate ALSO had that same toaster. He demanded we make up our minds which one to keep. i didn't understand why this was important to him and i hated discussing this useless topic with him so i stored the toaster in my room. He repeatedly suggested i throw mine away (?). One evening i got hungry and decided i'd make myself a toast in my room. So i made some toast. Suddenly he bursts in. And he starts ranting. "why are you doing this are you CRAZY you cant TOAST in your own room thats DANGEROUS you're gonna start a fire, don't ever do that again, we have a KITCHEN for that. why don't you want to use the kitchen you cant just HIDE from me every day, this is OUR flat and i want us to live TOGETHER!" He didn't stop talking and it overwhelmed me, so (this is embarrassing, but) i actually started crying and i turned away from him so i could try to control myself. and he just started babytalking me "awww its alright i didn't mean to scare you, but you see, you shouldn't have done that". he tried putting his arms around me, i told him to stop. "you need a hug right now" ...... i was so angry i think my brain might have short circuited because the next hour was me just acting the whole way through. i told him everything he wanted to hear. i was so sorry for almost burning the house down and made up some explanation that my parents were still making me sad, so i needed distance. The next big thing involved one of my best friends. she wanted to spontaneously go out for an evening. so i put on some pants and of course: HE appears in my room, asking where i'm going. i was surprised by the question and just answered "going out with Lina" he left it at that. then suddenly: "can i come too?" He threw me off with that question. Lina had said she needed some advice on personal stuff, so I said "no" because i didn't have a better answer. he got ANGRY. i explained. "Lina wants some privacy, i'm sorry" He starts arguing that Lina is just as much his best friend, and that he should be allowed to hear what she wants to say to me. Before i can reply he slams his door shut. "Don't even try to explain yourself", he says. I told my friend while meeting up with her and she began with the sympathetic "you should have said yes" and we argued about it and then she came out with this absolutely horrifying sentence: "you know how he is. you cant be *too* honest with him. he's sensitive. you need to lie to him so he doesn't get mad" it was as if i'd been splashed with cold water. i said i didn't agree with that. that that was actually unfair to HIM. nobody likes being lied to and treated less than. she called him, told him i was gonna apologize and he showed up with the angriest expression i ever saw in his face. he accused me of being depressed and that he now has the burden of my mental issues to bear. This he assumed because one night i told him about me dissassociating sometimes a few years ago. Then he wanted me to promise i would never leave him, because he's afraid i won't be able to pay my part of the rent. the crowning moment was my friend Lina mostly agreeing with him and both of them berating me for not having my life together because i still hadn't managed to find an open-ended contract job, only limited-time jobs. at the end he justified himself by saying he cant stand my parents phoning me. (at that point they had started calling me everyday and showed genuine concern ... i was trying to reform a bond with them) - apparently he resented that. he knew about my parents disciplining me with face slaps as a kid (when i was 9-11 yrs old) (they feel bad about it, and they they stopped doing it fairly early) in that moment my flatmate chose to tell me ..... (hoo boy i need to get ready to type this) .... "i'm concerned about you. if your father would ever beat you, i would beat him to a bloody pulp" then he repeated "i would beat him/kill him" a few times, VERY agitatedly. it was scary and at that point i was numb. i didn't really respond, i just said "its fine" or something to that extent. the thing that made me decide to move out (although certainly among many that followed that night) was this: one morning i informed him i was going to visit my parents that weekend. we had started talking again (as i mentioned before and i wanted to meet them without fighting for once). he says "but you're coming back, right". i say "of course don't be so nervous". i go to work. i get a LOT OF texts from him suddenly. i skim through it. he's mad about me calling him "nervous". i don't reply/read bc i am at work. Then he actually CALLS me. i don't pick up. now i'm thinking: What is so important, that he has to call me during work. there's a 4 paragraph essay in my inbox. "watch your mouth", "you have no right to speak that way to me", "you should have more respect". he was mad i called him nervous. i responded that i don't have time to reply. he argued back. at one point i said "if i cant even call you nervous then i'm ACTUALLY gonna stay with my parents" he fiNALLY didn't reply to that. after a 10hour day i come home. i wanna shower. i go to my room, close the door and start undressing myself. of course, there's knocking on my door. i say "No" he flips out. i calmly tell him i'm only half dressed. he flips out even more, says i'm a horrible person who WANTS to fight because my "no" wasn't a good enough answer and i should have explained in full detail why he couldn't get in. he was actually SERIOUS. this was his reasoning for flipping out. he goes away. not even a minute passes by and he hammers his fist against my door again. "OPEN UP THIS TIME I *HAVE* TO COME IN" at this point i'm beginning to get kinda scared so i say "come in" He comes in and says he needs me to disconnect with the wifi because he needs it for his work. i calmly say "ok" and disconnect my wifi. he goes away, leaves the door open. i stand up to go and close my door. HE ACTUALLY GOES AND PULLS AGAINST ME TO TRY TO PRY IT OPEN AGAIN. eventually he lets go and then he flips out FOR REAL. he starts screaming about how i'm a psycho, and that im crazy and awful and he has been nothing but nice and that he "saved" me and i haven't been thankful enough.

.... ..

yes, i was in a difficult position. but that flatmate arrangement was made on even ground. he had wanted to move out from his parents for years. i fled and left. called my parents, but they were miles away and laughed it off. i would have probably too. i called my friends. Lina offered to come and mediate. He continued screaming even with Lina there. It culminated with him roaring at me, pointing at the door saying "if you don't like how i treat you, there's the door, leave right now" with lina replying "don't say that, you NEED her money to pay rent!" it was awful, and an eye-opener. the next day, on the way to work, i decided i was gonna move out. and before i could tell him, i get a message from him (!). An ultimatum. he tells me i have 3 options. 1) leave immediately and take my stuff away within a week. i wouldn't have "pay any more than i've already payed" (it was the first day of that month and i had already payed my rent. nice) 2) stay for half a year, but immediately pay him something so that he knows i'll stay 3) stay indefinitely, but set up a " bevahiour contract" with him, so this "never happens again" i told him i'd take option 1 and then i stayed over at a friends house. then at a friends shared appartement. then at dormitary and soon i'm gonna move in with my younger brother. we've been estranged a bit but grown closer through this whole thing. now Lina and him are still friends and lina blames me for "everyone in our friend group" being mad at him. one of her first concerns, was that her birthday parties are gonna be weird now. i am completely done with her as well and don't want her in my life anymore. according to her, I left him with a rent he cant pay and i should feel bad for that. except i dont. should i though?

#vent #rant

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willow-salix · 4 years

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Isolation update! I was planning on doing the prompt of "Sight" for @gumnut-logic challenge for the next chapter of the big fat fic (which I'm still gonna do) but this came out too. So I let the boys roll with it.

Day 76 of Isolation on Tracy Island

“Scott?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you know anything about this?” I held up my headphones, which had been previously missing for maybe the last eight months and that I had just found in the cutlery drawer.

“Yeah, they’re headphones.”

“Thank you Captain Obvious, I meant why are they in with the knives and forks?”

He shrugged. “Why are you asking me?”

“Because you were hiding socks around the place for over three weeks.”

“Only because it took you so long to give them back to me. I started after we watched Half Blood Prince, I thought it would make you laugh but you just kept ignoring them.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry I didn’t realise you needed to be freed!”

“Of course I did! I was your house elf!”

“House elves do chores! They don’t sit around being fed and demanding attention!”

“I’m a progressive house elf that is fighting for elf rights!”

“No you aren't, you’re a lazy bum!”

“Lazy? Me?”

“Yes, you!”

“I will never understand the conversations you two have,” John muttered as he pushed past us to fill his mug with the coffee I had just brewed.

“It’s affectionate arguing,” Scott laughed, sliding his mug over to John for a top up.

“So no one knows why my headphones have just suddenly turned up from wherever they vanished to and magicked themselves into the kitchen?”

“Nope,” Scott gave up waiting for John to pour him a drink and stole mine. I narrowed my eyes in his general direction. John slid a fresh cup over to me. Such a great guy.

“You know,” John mused. “I found one of my world geography books in the bathroom cupboard.”

“I found my utility knife in the piano stool,” Virgil added, wandering over to snag some toast that had just popped up.

“I just made that,” I told him.

“Thank you,” he continued to butter it. I stared at his plaid clad back for a few seconds but when he failed to burst into flames I gave up and dropped some more bread into the toaster.

“Now that I think about it,” Scott mused, “I found my guitar pick in the fruit bowl, the one that I got from that little shop in Texas. I thought I lost it for good years ago but it just appeared out of nowhere.”

“Something strange is going on,” Virgil declared. “If stuff we lost is returning there has to be a reason for it.”

“Parallel universe,” I answered confidently.

“I don’t think that's a thing,” Scott said gently.

“Apports then?” I offered.

“No, I don’t think...what’s an apport?” Virgil asked.

“An object conjured out of nothing by a ghost, obviously.”

“I don’t think this is the work of a ghost, love," John said, squeezing my shoulder as he passed by to take a seat. “There’s only one person that borrows things without asking and that’s Gordon.”

“That was going to be my next guess,” I admitted.

“Yet you went straight for ghosts and different universes?” Scott asked, clearly bemused.

“Well, maybe, just for once, I wanted something interesting to happen around here that I could actually deal with,” I huffed. “Sue me.”

“Only you could think ghosts and different realms were something that’s easy to deal with when you were the one that screamed and climbed me like a monkey because a crab ran over your foot on the beach last night,” John laughed.

“Crabs have pincers, any sane person would get away from one of them,” I pouted, reaching for some toast off Virgil’s plate. Honestly I don’t know why we don't just have communal plates in this house, no one seems to eat their own food.

“So what are we going to do about Gordon being a kleptomaniac?” I asked.

“We’ll deal with him after breakfast,” Scott decided, leaning over and biting the corner off my toast. See? No boundaries whatsoever.

***

The klepto in question was sneaking suspiciously around the lounge when we tracked him down and we caught him in the act of leaving a magnifying glass behind a book on the bookcase.

“Busted,” Scott yelled, making Gordon jump about a foot in the air.

“So it was you that’s been leaving our belongings scattered around the house,” Virgil sighed.

“Why are you doing this?” John asked, although his tone said he was debating the wiseness of even posing the question and was unsure he actually wanted an answer.

“Can’t a guy do something nice for his family?”

“He can when he’s not the one thats been stealing things in the first place,” I shot back, arms folded, foot tapping.

“I’m offended!” Gordon gasped dramatically. “A Tracy doesn’t steal unless its Virgil and a bell takes his fancy-”

“That was one time and it was an accident!”

“I may borrow things,” Gordon continued.

“For three years?” Scott snorted.

“I borrow on extended loan-”

“Without permission,” John added.

“But you always get them back eventually,” Gordon finished triumphantly. “I got bored and cleaned my room and it was like unearthing buried treasure. I may have forgotten that I borrowed a few things but you’ve got them back now, so no harm no foul.”

“Is that all you needed to return?” Virgil sighed.

“There might be a few other things scattered around,” Gordon admitted.

“Go and get them,” Scott ordered.

Gordon staggered in half an hour later weighed down by a massive box overflowing with his plundered loot.

“Seriously?” Scott gaped as the box thumped down on the table.

“All of that?” Virgil couldn't believe his eyes.

“Not surprised,” John muttered.

“How did you manage to borrow all that?” Alan asked in awe, having been summoned from his pit to claim any lost items that may have fallen into Gordons possession. “I’m not even allowed to borrow a pen.”

“It’s because he doesn’t bother asking,” John told him.

“That’s where I’ve been going wrong!”

Gordon shooty finger winked at him.

“No!” I yelped, intervening for the first time and grabbing Alan, pulling him into my arms. “Do not corrupt this precious bean.”

“Too...late,” Alan wheezed, trying to escape my python like grasp.

“Oh, sorry,” I let go and Alan took a dramatically deep breath.

“What’s in the box, Squid?” Scott asked.

Gordon tipped the box up and out tumbled a mass of things that shocked even me.

“That’s my baseball cap,” Scott snagged it.

“My gloves,” Virgil claimed them.

“That’s my camera,” John snatched it up. “I thought I left that behind on the beach and the sea took it.”

“Well, technically the sea’s representative did,” I giggled, then noticed something in the middle of the pile. “Why do you have my headscarf? You know that I use that when you guys force me to get in a boat, it makes me feel fancy.”

“Are those my sunglasses?”

“Yes, I broke mine and was going fishing.”

“Is that my lipstick?”

“Yeah, I used it to draw blood on my neck so I could be a zombie at halloween.”

“There’s my ocarina.”

“It was so weird I had to try it.”

“Is that my belt?”

“Yeah, remember that date I went on with Penny? It went really well with those navy pants.”

“I thought I lost that harmonica.”

“I was going through a depressed week and wanted to play the blues.”

“Is that my cologne?”

“Same date.”

“Why do you have my toothbrush?”

“I used it to clean the sand out of one of Four’s filters.”

“My playing cards!”

“Yeah, I wanted to learn card tricks.”

“My travel chess set!”

“Four of the pawns are missing now, sorry.”

“Seriously, my drill?”

“I wanted to put up a picture.”

“Why did you need my tie?”

“That's classified.”

“That’s my favorite pen.”

“Yeah, I’ve got no excuse for that, I used it, put it in my pocket and forgot about it.”

“Gordon, why do you have my flip flops?”

“Mine broke and your’s were nearest.”

An endless stream of lost objects had suddenly returned home and it was a tad overwhelming but along with his more recent acquisitions were items that hadn’t been seen in forever.

“I remember this game!” Alan exclaimed, grabbing the box. “John and I used to play it all the time when I was little. You had to be astronauts and fly through the meteor showers and land on different planets and fight aliens. It was great. We had the best scores, no one could beat us.”

“Actually, I had the best scores,” John corrected him.

“No way, it was a team effort, we played that together every night after I got home from school.”

Virgil chuckled.

“What?” Alan looked confused. “Why are you laughing?”

“I may have taken the batteries out of your controller and just let you think you were playing.” John admitted.

“What! That was one of my greatest achievements in life!”

“Alan, you went into space when you were thirteen,” John pointed out.

“Oh yeah!”

Virgil spotted a book and picked it up. “I haven’t seen this since we were little.”

“Oh, I remember that one,” Scott smiled. “Mom had it when she was small and she used to read it to us every thanksgiving.”

John was busy sifting through the pile. “Hey, my first star globe, why do you have this?”

“Remember when I used to get upset when Dad went away? Well you used to point out all the different stars to me on it and where the moon was near them.”

“Oh yeah,” John smiled, “I remember that, I let you borrow it to keep beside your bed so you could see where Dad was every night.”

“That’s my old teddy bear,” Scott smiled, picking it up and sitting it on his lap. “I left him with you when I went to college.”

“I know, I told you that I was too old to have a plushie in my room but you insisted. I passed him on to Alan and when we moved I guess he got packed up with my things.”

“That’s the children’s guitar that Mom taught us to play,” Virgil picked it up and strummed a few cords but the tuning was terrible.

“I’ve never seen that before,” Alan said quietly. “In fact, I don’t remember much of any of this stuff.” He gestured to the pile of things that still remained scattered on the table top. “I don’t know that pencil sharpener, that snow globe or those shell bracelets, I don’t know any of it.”

“Neither do I,” I reminded him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“I don’t have any memories of them so they don’t mean anything to me.”

“But that’s what’s so great about things and why I keep telling your brother that not everything has to have a use all the time. Things are there to remind us of the good times, just the sight of them can conjure up images, but they are also there to encourage us to share those memories. I used to love looking through my Nan and Grandad’s cupboards because I discovered so many things that were interesting,” I told him. “I’d ask them about them and they would tell me where they got them or who they belonged to before they got them and it was so nice to see the joy that the memories brought them. Pick something and ask about them, let’s share memories.”

Slowly Alan reached out to touch the small pile of shell bracelets.

“Where did these come from?”

“We were on a trip to the beach,” Scott started.

“Gordon was running all over picking up little shells and bringing them back to Mom,” Virgil continued.

“She ended up with a huge pile of them,” John laughed. “But Gordon didn't want her to put them back.”

“She ended up asking Dad to drill a tiny hole through each of them and she made them into bracelets for us as a reminder of the vacation,” Scott picked up the story.

“We wore them for a few days but Gordon kept stealing them because he loved the shells,” Virgil added.

“I remember that,” Gordon smiled. “There’s a picture in the album of me wearing them all, I don’t look any older than five.”

Alan picked them up, rubbing one of the shells between thumb and finger. “Why are there five of them?”

“Because Mom was pregnant with you at the time and said that you were there too so you should have a bracelet,” Scott smiled, reaching over to take one. “This was mine.”

One by one the others each claimed a bracelet, leaving Alan with just one.

“You’re right, that’s a nice story to hear,” he admitted, slipping the bracelet over his hand.

“Hey, here’s an idea,” I suggested. “This has been a mad few months, how about we start a new memory box and in ten years time we’ll look back in it and remember the longest vacation ever.”

“Yeah,” Alan nodded. “That could be cool.”

The box slowly filled up with bits and pieces.

Here are some of them.

-Some of our finished colouring pages.

-Gordon’s tablet that hadn’t recovered from its unscheduled dip in the bath.

-Brains’s broken glasses and a broken piece of his microscope that fell off of Alan when we played human buckaroo

-A small pile of post-it’s which Scott had used on April fools day to label everything in the lounge.

-The rubber spider John had pranked me with.

-A pair of the bunny ears the boys wore to deliver Easter eggs.

-The empty bottle of ‘Chill Pills’ Scott got for his birthday.

-A selection of our pictionary artwork.

-The beauty blender Virgil ruined on Gordon’s face.

-An empty popcorn bag Alan found stuffed between the couch cushions from one of our many movie nights.

-One of Scott’s socks that hadn’t been found before.

-A gaudy necklace from our lip sync battle

-A clue list from our scavenger hunt

-A shell I picked up on the beach the day they taught me to surf.

-The evil Furby

-The purple wig we made John wear (he was very glad to donate it to the memory box)

“OK, so, we don’t take anything out but we can add more for as long as isolation goes on?” Alan confirmed.

“Yep,” I nodded. “Who’s going to be in charge of keeping it safe?”

“Gordon should,” Alan said. “Since he seems to be the keeper of everyone’s things.”

“Even without permission,” John muttered, tucking his pen into his pocket in case it went walkies again.

“Actually,” Gordon said, “I think Alan should look after it for us.”

“Really? You mean that?” Alan grinned.

“Sure, kiddo,” Scott agreed. “After all, they’re your memories too

#memories #Sight #thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds 2015

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saiilorstars · 4 years

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The Beginning of Everything

Ch. 27: The Vortex Butterfly

// Story Masterlist //

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: 10th Doctor x Female OC

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

Chapter summary: The final battle against the Daleks is coming to an end and with it comes the Vortex Butterfly. People are lost and those remaining are still fractured. When it's all over, Renata and the Doctor must decide what to do with themselves.

As soon as the new Doctor had figured out what the Daleks planned to do, he set to work with the tools he had in the TARDIS. He'd been working fairly fast considering the enormous pressure there was to get things right and working.

"Doctor - or whatever you name is - what are you doing!?" Gabby was so tired of watching the man circle the console without uttering a word to her or Donna. For all they knew, he could be making a toaster.

"This is our only hope!" the Doctor promised her and made a nod at his device that was coming together. "A Z-Neutrino biological inversion catalyser."

"Yeah, Earth-girls remember?" Donna nearly tapped the side of his head to make a point.

"Davros said he built those Daleks out of himself. His genetic code runs through the entire race. If I can use this to lock the Crucible's transmission onto Davros himself…"

"It destroys the Daleks?"

"Biggest backfire in history," the Doctor grinned mischievously.

"That's great," Gabby was truly grinning from ear to ear, but she raised her glowing purple hands to bring up another matter they hadn't truly solved yet. "Now what do I do about this!?"

The Doctor wearily eyed her hands. "Keep 'em...away…"

Gabby wasn't remotely amused. "Am I going to die like Renata? Is that what this is? You said I'm the Cosmic Butterfly and that Renata is the Vortex Butterfly, but what does that mean really? What can I do with this? Will it kill me?"

"I don't - I don't know the implications it'll have on your biology," the Doctor admitted. "But right now it might be a really good weapon against the Daleks." Gabby wasn't really sure how to feel about being a 'weapon' against alien threats. "And as for Renata? The energy inside her is far too strong, it could be killing her as we speak."

Gabby gulped and glanced at Donna. What could either of them do from where they were? Gabby didn't know the answer but she knew that she had to do something to save her. Ever since they met, Renata had done nothing but try to keep Gabby safe. Even when things were terrible, Renata always strove to keep Gabby out of harm's way. Gabby couldn't - and wouldn't - let that happen. She had the power in her fingertips to stop it, to at least help. She didn't care if it would contaminate her too or if it would kill her. The Doctor may be right in that she was a weapon they could use against the Daleks.

"What do I need to do?"

The Doctor eyed her for a second, deciding whether or not she was being honest and if she could actually do it. She gave a nod as if she'd read his mind.

"You draw your power - so they say - from your emotions, from what you feel. Take all of that and focus it on what you want to do."

Gabby nodded fast, her eyes wandering around the room. Right now all she could think of was Renata and the Doctor. They were both in such terrible danger and even then Renata was getting the worst of it. Her energy was swallowing her whole and just the thought of Renata dying terrified Gabby - she felt her world would crumble.

Flames began to rise from her fingers and when she noticed it, she knew exactly what to do.

~ 0 ~

Renata had gained a better sense of balance again, but it didn't stop the deep fatigueness she felt. Her energy - the vortex, apparently - had stopped randomly bursting from her but every now and then it would still burst. Even if they weren't strong explosions, she could still feel it bubbling inside her.

She touched the prison wall around her and watched its ripples mix with her golden energy. "Maybe...this isn't all bad," she whispered so that the Doctor could hear. "What if I use this - whatever it is - to our advantage?"

"Don't do anything, I'm begging you," the Doctor was so tired of asking her the same thing. He was afraid that each time the energy burst from her, it would be the last one she would be able to endure. "Just...just sit." Renata shook her head but before she could verbally refuse, they heard a familiar voice coming through a comms in the room.

"This is Martha Jones representing the Unified Intelligence Taskforce on behalf of the Human Race. Can you hear me?"

Renata stumbled forwards, her face hitting the wall not so kindly. "Martha! Is that really Martha!?"

Martha Jones finally came to appear in a screen for them. "This message is for the Dalek Crucible. Repeat: can you hear me?"

"Martha?" the Doctor could smile enough to see she was alright and unharmed, so far.

"It begins as Dalek Caan foretold," Davros announced, but neither the Doctor nor Renata paid him attention.

"The Children of Time will gather... and one of them will die!"

"Would you stop saying that! Put me through!" ordered the Doctor.

The communication became a two-way and Martha seemed relieved to see them again, although she immediately got concerned over Renata's frail appearance. She paid very bit of her attention to Rose, considering her priorities. "Ren? What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing, just get to the point," Renata made a gesture as best as possible.

"State your intent," Davros commanded Martha and Martha was happy to do so.

Martha raised her hand to show she held a strange key. "I've got the Osterhagen Key. Leave this planet and its people alone, or I'll use it."

"Osterhagen what? What's an Osterhagen Key?" the Doctor inquired, a bit offended that he had no idea what the thing was when UNIT created it. They were supposed to inform him every now and then.

"There's a chain of twenty-five nuclear warheads placed in strategic points beneath the Earth's crust. If I use the key, they detonate and the Earth gets ripped apart."

The noise that came out of Renata was piercing. She was appalled at such a creation. "What do you mean!? Martha Jones! Are you insane?!"

Martha was in a visible struggle with her duty and her morals, but she didn't stop until she got everything out that she needed to say. "The Osterhagen Key is to be used if the suffering of the Human Race is so great, so without hope... that this becomes the final option."

"That's never an option!" yelled the Doctor.

"Don't argue with me, Doctor," Martha snapped, further surprising him. "Cos there's more than that. Now, I reckon the Daleks need these twenty-seven planets for something, but what if it becomes twenty-six? What happens then? Daleks? Would you risk it?"

Rose had to admit where she saw a good job, because not just anyone could threaten the Daleks with such good content. "She's good." Of course neither the Doctor nor Renata would agree with her.

"Who's that?" Martha finally gave Rose the decent attention to be interested in her.

"My name's Rose. Rose Tyler."

Martha froze but her eyes immediately found Renata's. The Time Lady gave a confirming nod, but she made it clear that she was just fine with it.

Suddenly, the screen divided itself into two squares. Jack's face flashes next to Martha's and he was holding a peculiar necklace in hand. Sarah Jane, Jackie Tyler, and Mickey Smith were right behind him.

"Captain Jack Harkness calling all Dalek boys and girls!" Jack exclaimed rather loudly with a grin that promised greatness. "Are you receiving me? Don't send in your goons or I'll set this thing off."

Now it was Rose's turn to nearly fall over. "He's still alive!?" she squinted her eyes though when she saw Jackie behind him. "Oh, my God, that's- that's my mum!"

"And Mickey," the Doctor added. "Captain, what are you doing?"

"I've got a Warp Star wired into the mainframe. I break the shell... the entire Crucible goes up."

The Doctor looked between Martha and Jack - and those behind Jack - as if they'd all gone mad, and perhaps they had. "You can't! Where did you get a Warp Star?!"

"Wrong question," Renata shook her. "I can't believe they have the courage to do that - wrong courage, but...courage nonetheless." Although it honestly startled her that these humans had the boldness to do what not everyone could.

"It's mine, Doctor," Sarah Jane spoke up. "We had no choice, we saw what happened to the prisoners."

"Impossible. That face... after all these years…" Davros seemed truly surprised to see Sarah Jane on the screen.

Sarah Jane couldn't say the same. Her eyes narrowed on the man - creature - and a cold glare took her over. "That's been quite a while. Sarah Jane Smith. Remember?"

"Oh, this is meant to be. The Circle of Time is closing!" Davros exclaimed. "You were there on Skaro at the very beginning of my creation."

"And I've learned how to fight since then. You let the Doctor go or this Warp Star - it gets opened!"

"I'll do it," Jack raised the Warp Star a bit more and tweaked it to prepare it. "Don't imagine I wouldn't."

"Now, that's what I call a ransom," Rose chuckled, feeling just a bit more on the optimistic side. The Daleks wouldn't let their precious plan fall to bits if they could help it.

"And the prophesy unfolds," Davros said, pulling Rose out of her thoughts to notice the Doctor's downcasted gaze.

"The Doctor's soul is revealed! See him! See the heart of him!" Dalek Caan cackled deliriously, taunting the silent Doctor.

"Oh shut it you tin can!" Renata unexpectedly snapped. She knew exactly what they were trying to do to the Doctor and even if she was trapped inside a prison cell, she wouldn't allow it.

"The man who abhors violence, never carrying a gun. But this is the truth, Doctor," Davros wheeled himself closer to the Doctor who refused to look up from the ground. "You take ordinary people and you fashion them into weapons. Behold your Children of Time transformed into murderers. I made the Daleks, Doctor. You made this."

"What the - no!" Renata shouted again, more furious than before. "No one makes people into anything! You change them, yes, but their core remains the same."

The Doctor could appreciate her attempt to make him look better but he knew what he was, he always knew. Wherever he went, destruction followed. Even Renata herself had been caught in his trail. He gave her the worst ultimatum back on that horrible night before his wedding, and made her miserable for the rest of her lives. And after her...he couldn't even count the lives he'd destroyed because he turned them into people who didn't care for their own lives. They would use themselves as bait, go farther than they ever would because they met him.

It was all true.

And even if Renata tried to sweeten the darkness, he couldn't believe it. She shouldn't have to waste her breath - which was already numbered - on him. "Renata-"

"No!" she snapped at him without a single second of hesitation. "You are many things, Doctor, but I'm not letting these murderers bring you down with them! As if!" The golden Vortex began to dance around her body again, growing stronger the angrier she rambled on. "These humans-" she made a quick gesture to the screen where she had a good captive audience, "-are trying to save their world by any means necessary, even if it means destroying it! And yes, they are completely wrong!" She specifically looked up at the screens, making sure that each and every one of them looked her in her hard eyes. It was as if their mother was giving them a lecture, and it was a strange feeling for those who hadn't even met her. "But they made their choices! Not the Doctor!"

"Ren, calm down," Martha could see the light around her friend's body starting again.

"NO!" Renata frantically said. "And stop telling me to calm down! I'm not calming down! I've had it!"

"You make nice speeches, Time Lady-" Davros began but she wasn't quite finished yet.

"-my name-" she pounded a fist against her prison wall, "-is Renata! Learn it because as soon as I get out of here, I'm going to end you!"

"Renée, enough!" the Doctor turned to her. His anger had finally broken through his seal of silence but even though a part was directed at her, it wasn't for the same reason. He wouldn't let her further destroy her morals for him. Not her.

"There is no point in denying the truth," Davros insisted. "Already, I have seen them sacrifice today for their beloved Doctor. The Earth woman who fell opening the subwave network."

"Who was that?" the Doctor asked, momentarily curious of who else he could've destroyed that he wasn't remembering. That's how many...he couldn't even remember all of them!

"Harriet Jones," Rose answered quietly, closing her eyes when she remembered the terrible way Harriet had died after opening the Subway network for them. "She gave her life to get you here."

"How many more? Just think," Davros called to the Doctor again, nearing his prison hold. "How many have died in your name?"

"Doctor, don't," Renata knew that he was going to start thinking about the people he'd lost along the way. He just would. He was too guilty to ever forget them like that.

And as he realized before, the Doctor lost count along the way. He remembered many faces, each dying to save him and whoever else happened to be around. He always tried making the tough calls but someone always wanted to be brave - to prove themselves to him that they were just as brave as he was - and it always resulted in death. It followed him because that's who he was, that's who he was at his core. He could never stay still and people around him paid the price for it.

He barely held himself together once the weight of it truly fell over his shoulders, but the Daleks had won: they'd broken him. They made him face his reality and made him look at himself.

And Davros knew it too. "The Doctor... the man who keeps running, never looking back, because he dare not, out of shame. This is my final victory, Doctor. I have shown you... yourself."

"STOP!" Renata screamed and released the brightest energy she had yet to reveal. Her fists pounded endlessly against the prison walls, one after the other and stronger than the previous.

"Renata!" the Doctor swore he could see cuts against her fists from the constant hits against the wall, but she just wouldn't stop. "Renata!"

She cried and banged the walls with everything she had. The Vortex wouldn't fade this time either - it was actually cutting through the walls. The Daleks had prepared for the Doctor alright, but not the Vortex Butterfly.

"It's the Crucible... or the Earth!" Martha called when she felt it was the right time to really tighten the Daleks.

But the Daleks had other plans. They teleported Martha and Jack, along with everyone else who had tagged along. They all dropped into the Vault without their threatening weapons.

"Don't move!" the Doctor was quick to shout at them. "All of you, stay still!"

"But Renata!" Martha had gotten up from the floor fairly fast and ran towards her friend who was still crying against her cell.

"No, Martha!" the Doctor helplessly banged against his own prison hold to stop the woman.

Renata's cell cracked with the Vortex seeping through until it finally shattered. The force of it blew Martha back, throwing her body onto the floor. Renata's own body fell forwards after the blast. Jack only went to Martha because she was closest, but it didn't keep the Doctor from yelling for Renata to wake up. He crashed his body against his prison, much like Renata had, until his head got woozy from so many hits.

"Doctor, you have to stop that!" Rose called to him when he looked ready to pass out.

"You will all surrender," a Dalek warned the group as it and a few other Daleks came towards them.

Jack looked back at Sarah Jane, Mickey and Jackie, nodding for them to stay down. There was no winning now. Renata, however, slowly blinked awake. She scanned the area in her spot, without moving, and decided to wait for the right moment.

"The final prophecy is in place. The Doctor and his children all gathered as witnesses. Supreme Dalek... the time has come!" Davros' voice practically shook with excitement. "Now...Detonate the Reality Bomb!"

The knobs of the Reality Bomb started working again, giving the twenty seven planets their strong glow.

"Davros, you can't!" the Doctor crashed his body one more time against his prison hold. "Just listen to me! Just STOP!"

"Nothing can stop the detonation! Nothing! And no-one!"

Renata had barely flexed her left hand when she and the others began to hear a familiar, but completely impossible, wheezing noise. She'd been feeling so tired but now there was a small spot, somewhere inside, that felt a bit different. It was small but it sparked something...

The TARDIS appeared, looking as if nothing ever happened to it. It was the only thing that stopped the Doctor from repeatedly hurting himself against his prison. "But that's…"

"Impossible," Davros barely contained his shout.

The TARDIS settled into a nice spot and opened its doors, letting out a blinding light that could rival Renata's. The new Doctor bolted from the TARDIS with his device ready to go.

"What - don't!" the original Doctor cried despite not knowing - at that moment - how there was another copy of him.

Davros got over his shock and acted fast. With one pointed finger, he put a stop to the new Doctor's plan with a jet of electricity. He collapsed on the floor, not seriously injured but there would still be bruises.

"Activate holding cell," Davros instructed and a brand new prison hold appeared around the new man.

"Doctor!" Donna rushed out next and immediately saw the lost device on the floor. She snatched it before anything else could. "I've got it! But I don't know what to do!"

Donna became the next victim. The same electric jet of energy hit her and blew her against the TARDIS.

"Destroy the weapon!"

The Doctor called for Donna but there was no response from the woman, wherever it was she landed.

"Wait, how come there's two of you now?" Rose couldn't stop blinking. It was as if she was trying to see if blinking fast would erase the second DOctor.

"Human biological metacrisis. Never mind that, now we've got no way of stopping the Reality Bomb."

"Wouldn't say that." Gabby appeared out of the TARDIS with a strong purple glow around her and a pair of two swirling, purple butterfly wings behind her. She didn't take a second to think about the consequences, she just acted. She thrust her left hand forwards and shot directly at Davros. A streak of purple butterflies swarmed their way towards the man.

"Attack!" he cried before the butterflies could read him.

"NO!" the Doctor went into another state of panic. The Reality Bomb was back on and now they also had to watch Gabby die all over again?

Gabby brought her wings over her body as a shield - how that happened, she wouldn't be able to explain - but the same wings, only in purple, flapped in front of her. In her mind, there was only one thing: save her friends.

Renata was finally back and she had an icy cold glare on her face, despite the warmth she felt from the Vortex emanating around her. "Not her!" her voice would make anyone wince, and it did. "You-" her wings flapped to create a force of wind laced with golden energy, "-stay-" flap!, "-away-" another flap, "-from her!" Golden swirls fired from her wings and hit the incoming Daleks.

"Detonation in twenty rels! Nineteen…" the Supreme Dalek's voice began to echo through all the rooms in the Crucible.

"Renata!" the Doctor vainlessly called for her. He was terribly scared for her and for the planets. He didn't know whether or not to be ashamed of the fact he couldn't decide which scared him more. "Renata, stop!"

But Renata, whether she heard him or not, thrust one hand after the other and split as many Daleks as she could. Gabby followed in her footsteps and cut through the Daleks that would near her. The Vortex Butterfly had come to life and was going to do whatever it took to keep her loved ones safe. Beautiful golden flames surrounded around her, contrasting the darkness she felt inside her knowing the battle that was upon them. She led the Cosmic Butterfly, her faithful companion, into the land of battle. One powered by the Vortex and the other by cosmic energy, the Daleks would never stand a chance.

"Exterminate!" Renata could hear dozens of them but she felt an incredible surge of power that she wanted to take full advantage of.

"Nine... eight... seven... six…"

Donna blinked awake and, like Gabby and Renata, she immediately knew there was something different about her. A heavy load of power dropped on her, but not in the same way as it had on Renata and Gabby.

"What is going on!?" Martha breathed in at the sight of her best friend taking down Daleks like there was no tomorrow while doing it with butterfly wings.

"The Vortex Butterfly and the Cosmic Butterfly are born," Dalek Caan laughed loudly enough to go over the streaks of energy. "But can they survive?"

"Shut up!" the Doctor practically bellowed at the deranged Dalek.

"Five... four... three... two... one.."

The entire group waited, even both Renata and Gabby had finally stopped once the Daleks in the Vault were dead, to see the end of all creation. They were mighty confused when nothing of the sort happened.

"Oh... closing all Z-Neutrino relay loops using an internalised synchronous back-feed reversal loop!" Donna triumphantly, and rather confidently, flicked a switch from a control panel. "That button there!"

"Donna, you can't even change a plug!" the Doctor didn't know what was going on but he couldn't stop smiling. She looked absolutely at home working the controls.

Donna winked at him. "Do you wanna bet, Time Boy?"

"You will suffer for this!" Davros warned her, but Donna scoffed.

"Sure!" she went for another switch on the control panel and electrocuted Davros. "Oh...! Bioelectric dampening field with a retrogressive arc inversion."

"Alright Donna!" Rose laughed.

The Vault opened its doors to let more Daleks in. Renata raised her hands, taking aim, and prompted Gabby to do the same.

"Bring it," Gabby flexed her fingers. The energy around her was amazing. She wasn't in pain and even though she couldn't control it all so well, she just knew that this could be used for good, not murdering as the new Doctor had said. Plus, she was thinking differently too and she didn't know what that meant! It was as if her brain had opened to new ideas, to new possibilities - different angles to look from!

"I got it, ladies!" Donna called from her spot and somehow powered down the Daleks' blaster-guns. "Weapons non-functional!" She smirked at everyone's confused stares. "What? Macrotransmission of a K-filter wavelength blocking Dalek weaponry in a self-replicating energy blindfold matrix?"

The Doctor's mouth had fallen open in honest, thorough, shock. "How did you work that out? You…"

"Time Lord. Part Time Lord," the new Doctor said a d for a brief moment they shared a silent, knowing look between them.

Donna didn't notice it. Why would she? She was having the time of her life saving the world - worlds! "Part Human! Oh, yes! That was a two-way biological metacrisis. Half Doctor... half Donna!"

"The Doctor-Donna…" Renata realized, thinking back to the Old planet they visited a while ago. "It was just like the Ood said." She turned her head at the Doctor, her Doctor. "It came true." He knew what she was trying to say: if they got that bit right then her prediction was going to come true as well.

He shook his head. Never.

"Holding cells deactivated!" Donna cheered for herself as the holding cells disappeared.

As soon as he was free, the Doctor dashed for Renata. He was about to hold her - or attempt to hug, whichever one felt better - when her wings flapped menacingly.

"Don't touch me," she warned him.

"Ren-"

"-the job is not done. More are coming," Renata turned away from him, head tilting towards the closed doors at the end.

"Ren?" Martha was back on her feet thanks to Jack. She cautiously approached Renata but the Doctor barred her from getting too close. There was something else in Renata's face that he couldn't figure out yet. "Renata? It's me, Martha. I-I can't say I understand very well what all that-" she made a gesture at Renata's wings, "-is but you're not okay. You must be exhausted. You should let me take you into the TARDIS."

"No," Renata said flatly. "I want to put an end to them, all of them."

Gabby wobbled on her feet, for the first time feeling a bit weak from the energy she'd suddenly garnered. "Maybe...it wouldn't be a bad idea…"

"Oi! Doctor!" Donna called to the original from the control panel. "Could use some help!" She already had the metacrisis Doctor with her, but a third set of hands would end things much quicker.

"Stop them!" Davros ordered the remaining Daleks inside.

Donna had other ideas. She clicked a button on the panel. "And spin!"

The Daleks advance.

Renata turned her head at the spinning Daleks, revealing a fury she'd been hiding. The energy was making her let it go. "No spin, just die!" she screamed and fired upon the closest, spinning Daleks.

"Renata!" Martha tried reaching for her but the Doctor was faster and yanked them both back.

"You can't touch her! That's the Time Vortex around her!" he nodded to the dancing, golden flames around Renata's body.

Renata desisted with the measly Daleks spinning around them. She set eyes on the biggest threat of them all: Davros. She stalked towards him, leaving her footprints in Vortex power on the floor. "YOU!"

Martha didn't waste time and shoved the Doctor after her. "Stop her before she gets killed!"

The Doctor quickly glanced at Donna and saw she was busily working with his metacrisis copy then glanced at the others to see them coming out with their own weapons against the Daleks. Gabby was the only one unattended, but Martha practically read his thoughts.

"I've got her!" she rushed for Gabby but remembered she couldn't touch her. Although the more Martha studied the girl, the quicker she realized Gabby's power wasn't as strong as Renata's. Her purple glow came and went, almost as if it were trying to face but Gabby was clinging to it. "Gabby? Gabby, you need to put that energy away!"

"I can't!" Gabby clutched her head. "I-I thought this new mind was great but now I feel like a computer that's overloading. The power... it's a lot."

Martha could only imagine. "Listen, you just have to stop-"

"-I can't! I need to help Renata! It's beyond me, it's an instinct!"

"You're connected," Martha blinked and quickly glanced at Renata. Renata was hell bent on getting Daleks, and now Davros, and it seemed she had a pull on Gabby too. The butterflies were connected in some way.

Near the TARDIS, Jack had gone in to collect his and Rose's guns in case they ended up needing them when they escaped. The others, including Rose, took to pushing away any spinning Daleks that managed to get too close to Donna and the TARDIS. Donna had the metacrisis Doctor working like mad to get all the planets home.

"Activate magnetron!" she ordered.

"Stop it at once!" Davros attempted to go for Donna when Renata struck just in front of him.

She moved to stand right in front with one hand extended forwards, bathed in Vortex energy that was waiting to be released. "You stay right where you are."

"The Vortex Butterfly will murder on her first day?" Davros seemed more bemused than afraid.

"I'd be doing the world a favor," Renata balled her fist, finally letting the rage out that she'd bottled up for years. "No one would miss you."

The Doctor was horrified to hear that logic and much more that it was coming from Renata. He was helpless as he looked between her, Gabby and Donna working madly to get the planets back in place. All three of his companions were changed because of him. He'd ruined them just like everyone before them. And it broke his hearts all over again. They were weapons, just like the Daleks told him. It was his curse and they had to live with it while he could only watch.

Not Renata. He couldn't bear watching her betray her own morals. She was always so sweet, so protective, even when she harbored deep secrets it never changed who she was at her core. "Renée! You can't do this!"

There was a sour smile on Renata's face. "Why not? Really, Doctor, who would give a damn? They're the ones who ruined our world. They murdered everyone. But now I have the power to end them, to pay them back with the same coin."

"Renata, I know where you're coming from. I've been there," the Doctor promised her. He thought of the first Dalek he met right after the Time War. The first Dalek that might have changed. In that time he could care less if it was a safe Dalek, if it had become best friends with Rose and gotten a new perspective on life. He wanted to see it dead, just like all the other Daleks. But Rose reminded him that even though everything was gone, he was still there and deserved a chance to live.

"Renata, you always said that you wanted to go home, that-that you would do anything to go home…" he started again but it was difficult to get out when he could see how each word of his punctured Renata's hearts. "But this isn't it. This won't get you home and it won't bring home back. Renata I'm sorry but... it's gone." Renata's face scrunched harder the more he drilled it into her head, drilled reality into her head. "Gallifrey is dead and going on a murder spree won't do anything to change that. But listen, you have people here too. You have Martha, you have Donna, you have me and you have a young girl who looks up to you. And right now, she's in pain because she's trying to help you."

Renata blinked, for a second coming out of her dark moment, and slightly glanced in the Doctor's way. He was desperately trying to show her a struggling Gabby who was barely able to stay on her feet. Martha and Mickey were trying to bring her towards the TARDIS but the girl refused, saying things about helping her.

"You see?" the Doctor caught onto her temporary moment of lucidness to finish making his point. "I think you're temporary connected and she feels like she has to help you."

Renata returned her attention to her threatening hand. Davros wasn't close to her anymore but all it took was one shot, one shot, and it would be enough to end him.

"It breaks my hearts that I can't bring your family back. Because I would, if there was any way that I could I really would." The Doctor tried stepping closing to her, hoping that he was getting through to her once and for all. "They're gone. Everyone's gone."

Renata started to shake and sniff until it turned into gentle a cry. The golden energy around her body died within seconds. She lowered her threatening hand and brought it against her mouth to cover her sobs. "Oh God, what am I doing?"

When the Doctor knew it was safe, he pulled her into a hug and let her shake and sob for a few minutes. She needed it.

By the control panel, Donna and the metacrisis Doctor were almost done working.

"We got it, Doctor! Ha!" Donna laughed as she watched each planet return to their rightful place.

Rose and Jack came by to see their progress, though Rose's gaze often fell on the original Doctor with Renata.

"Is anyone gonna tell us what's going on?" Jack asked them.

"The Doctor - the original - poured all his regeneration energy into his spare hand," Donna explained rather fast, sounding a lot like the Doctor, "I touched the hand and he-" she nodded to the metacrisis Doctor, "-grew out of that, but that fed back into me. But, it just stayed dormant in my head 'til the synapses got that little extra spark, kicking them into life. Thank you, Davros! Part Human...part Time Lord. And I got the best bit of the Doctor. I got his mind!"

"So there's three of you?" Sarah Jane wandered over at the explanation.

Even Rose was wearing the same face of surprise. "Three Doctors?"

"I can't tell you what I'm thinking right now!" Jack looked away for the same reason. It was then that he saw the original Doctor and Renata finally making their way to them. "Doc! Donna just explained how there's three of you now!"

"Great," the Doctor was walking slowly with Renata. He checked behind him to see Martha and Mickey were able to bring Gabby along.

"Donna, you were so unique that the timelines were converging on you," Renata managed to smile, though it was a tired one. "Human Being with a Time Lord brain."

"Very special," Gabby added. She was looking better too now that her link with Renata was lowering because the Time Lady's murderous endeavors stopped.

"But you promised me, Dalek Caan. Why did you not forsee this?" Davros turned his chair to Dalek Caan in new flourished anger.

Dalek Caan giggled knowingly.

"Oh, I think he did," the Doctor said when he figured it out. "Something's been manipulating the timelines for ages... getting Donna Noble to the right place at the right time."

"This would always have happened. I only helped, Doctor."

Davros didn't want to believe that his entire plan had failed and much more that it was always going to fail. "You...betrayed the Daleks?"

"I saw the Daleks. What we have done throughout time and space. I saw the truth of us, Creator, and I decreed 'no more'."

"Dalek...on our side?" Renata would act more surprised if her facial features would allow it.

"Heads up!" Jack called when he saw the Vault doors opening up.

The Supreme Dalek had descended to the room. "Davros, you have betrayed us."

"It was Dalek Caan!"

"The Vault will be purged! You will all be exterminated!" the Supreme Dalek sent a death ray towards a central column, causing sparks to fly.

Jack had another thing to say. "Like I was saying, feel this!" He blasted the Dalek to smithereens with his large gun.

"No!" the metacrisis Doctor exclaimed when he saw the central column had been destroyed with the Supreme Dalek's ray. "We've lost the magnatron! And there's only one planet left!"

"And let me guess," the original Doctor began, "It's Earth?" both the metacrisis Doctor and Donna nodded their heads. "We can use the TARDIS. I'll do it." He brought Renata into the TARDIS and Martha and Mickey came in shortly afterwards with Gabby. "Renée, don't move! Got it?"

Renata had been sat in the Captain's chair and this time she didn't argue with him. She nodded her head instead. "I think the Butterfly is done."

The Doctor cocked his head to the side, disliking her choice of words but time was short. He ran to Gabby next. "Gabby? How we doin'?"

"Better, thanks," she smiled much more easily than Renata. "I think...I think I got a little less than Ren. I-I touched Donna when she touched your, uh, your hand…"

The Doctor paused to think about it for a second. "You must have activated your power via the metacrisis, but you didn't intake the same amount of Donna. It kitck-started the dormant energy of the Block Matrix from Zhe's gallery."

"But why am I not affected like Renata?"

"Renata's mutation was kick-started by Dorothy Bell and her Osiran powers. Plus, every Time Lord carries a bit of the Time Vortex inside them, you don't. You're human. You just have the Block Transfer connection."

"Oh, is that it?" Gabby sarcastically quipped.

"But you'll be fine - you and Renata will both be fine," the Doctor promised then ran for the console. He would get them sorted once they finished sorting this first. Everything would be just fine, just fine, because-

There was a strange commotion coming from the outside, it sounded like screaming. He hurried back outside and saw the shrieking, exploding Daleks from the screen Davros originally had for them.

"What've you done?!" he shouted in horror at his counterpart.

The new Doctor didn't seem that perturbed with the fact he had just slaughtered millions of Daleks in one go. "Fulfilling the prophecy." There was a wildness in his eyes that genuinely scared the original Doctor. "Do you know what you've done? Now, get in the TARDIS!" he roared and pointed the man for the blue box.

The metacrisis Doctor did so but he knew there was nothing more to do. It was already done. The Crucible would explode in minutes.

"Everyone! All of you inside, run! In, in, in, in, in!" the Doctor hurried along the remaining companions into the TARDIS. The Vault went up in flames but despite that, the Doctor knew Davros was still around. If he didn't come, he'd explode as well. "Davros? Come with me! I promise I can save you!"

"Never forget, Doctor - you did this!" Davros voice echoed through the room. "I name you, forever, you are the Destroyer of Worlds!"

The Doctor stayed in his spot for a minute, frozen as he concluded that everything was right. He was a destroyer.

"Doctor!" someone called to him from inside the TARDIS. It snapped him out of his thoughts and brought him right in.

The console was actually crowded - a strange sight for someone who usually travelled alone or at least light - with all his companions trying to gather sense of what they'd just gone through.

"And! Off we go!" he went for the console, starting the TARDIS up. Soon as he did, the group rocked to a side.

"But what about the Earth? It's stuck in the wrong part of space!" Sarah Jane said as if anyone would forget that small detail.

"I'm on it!" the Doctor promised as he worked the console. He got in contact with Torchwood as fast as he could. "I want you to open up that Rift Manipulator - send all the power to me!"

Afterwards, he called up Sarah Jane so that they could get in contact with her son, Luke, and her advanced computer Mr. Smith. He gave them another instruction and once it was set in motion, he rushed around giving each of his companions a control to work on the console. It would be a many-people drive!

Renata could see everybody crowded over the console with the same gleeful smiles on their faces. Her hearts warmed at the sight of all those people who were able to gather together because of the Doctor. She only knew two of them but she only needed to know the Doctor to know that every single one of them were amazing. She closed her eyes and took in a quiet breath. It almost looked like she was taking in her last breath, which was immediately pulled the Doctor towards her.

"Renata!" he scurried up to her seat with such a pale face that Renata would've laughed if she could.

"I'm okay," she said in a frail voice. "I'm just...so tired."

"I know, I know, I'm going to bring you to the medbay and-and we'll do all the testing and-"

Renata brought a hand up to his mouth, quieting him down in a second. Her kind, tired eyes told him she'd already made a decision. "I think I know where I need to go."

The Doctor was puzzled with her. Where could she want to go that wasn't the TARDIS? It hurt just to imagine her not around.

She seemed to have read his mind, or at least part of it anyways. She drew her hand away from his mouth and smiled rather sadly. "You'll be fine. You'll have someone back." Her eyes flickered past him so he followed it to Rose.

He wasn't quite sure how to feel about that.

~ 0 ~

Landing back on Earth - that'd been brought back to its rightful spot - felt like a dream for the humans. Sarah Jane couldn't wait and ran out first. She laughed at such normality of the park they were in. It didn't even look like there'd been a massive Dalek invasion 10 minutes ago.

The Doctor came peeking out a few seconds later, but not without Gabby shoving him to the side afterwards.

"We're back on Earth! We're back!" she cheered excitedly. Sarah Jane and the Doctor shared a small laugh as the girl spun around.

"Looks like your doing a lot better," the Doctor noted with a relieved smile.

Gabby was about to nod when a spree of purple butterflies sprang from the top of her head. It made her freeze mid-spin with wide eyes.

Once more, there was a small laughter between the two on-lookers.

"We'll need to work on that," the Doctor said.

Gabby decided to start laying low for now and returned to them. "I...did not mean to do that."

"I still don't understand that," Sarah Jane chuckled behind a hand. "But I imagine this will not be the last time we see each other." She glanced at the Doctor with a biggened smile. "You know... you act like such a lonely man. But look at you! You've got the biggest family on Earth! And you even managed to find yourself another Time Lord - lady. I'm so happy for you." She hugged him and missed the sad smile on the Doctor's face. "Gotta go now!" she pulled away with new excitement. "He's only fourteen! It's a long story. And thank you!"

"I like her," Gabby announced when Sarah Jane ran off.

"Yeah…"

Gabby brought a hand to her chest suddenly, making a face like something was bothering her. When the Doctor noticed it, she explained, "It's really weird. I go back and forth with this. One moment I'm okay and then the next I feel so heavy, like-like I just have to release, you know?"

"Like Renata," the Doctor nodded quietly. He presumed it was the same situation as Renata, only Gabby's energy amount was less than what Renata had.

"I-I should go see how she's doing," Gabby said after she'd managed to get through her small moment. She walked into the TARDIS at the same time both Mickey and Jack emerged.

"Ren, you should sit," Martha was in the middle of saying when Gabby joined them.

"I'm not a baby, Martha Jones. I'm quite older than you," Renata spoke ever-so-calmly and - Gabby had no idea how in such a bad moment - gracefully too. Renata had finally gotten up from her chair and was attempting to walk a couple steps.

Martha rolled her eyes and followed after Renata, arms ready to catch her in case she fell. "You just expelled some weird butterfly powers."

"Time Vortex, thank you very much," Renata turned around slowly to face Martha.

"How did that even happen?"

"A series of events, I'm afraid. We visited an art gallery that used a Quantum Sphere for Block Transfer Computation and infected me and Gabby."

Martha blinked and quickly looked at Gabby, but the girl raised her hands. "I didn't get the worst," she said and Martha sighed. That much she could tell.

"I was further infected - contaminated - by a different alien race, the Osirans," Renata went on. "And my body just never healed."

"And she wouldn't let the Doctor keep running tests on her," Donna came over with a long gaze on Renata.

"Surprise, surprise," Martha folded her arms and gave her best friend a disapproving look.

"Oh don't start, none of you," Renata pointed a finger at each and every one of them. "I don't want to hear it."

"Ren, will you be okay?" Martha's question did make Renata stop just as she was continuing to walk. "Like...like will you…?"

Renata turned back again and softened at Martha's concern. "I don't know," Renata admitted. She didn't want to lie to Martha. "But I need to go somewhere to figure out what I want."

Martha's stomach churned because , knowing Renata, knowing what had just happened, there was no telling what Renata would 'want'. Without saying a word, she walked up to Renata and hugged her really tight. She didn't say it but Renata knew. Just in case...Martha wanted to say goodbye.

"I'm sorry for how we got to know each other," Martha pulled away with a teary face. "I'm sorry I read your diary-"

"-forget about it," Renata nodded. "I burned that thing a long time ago. You were right. I couldn't live in the past. Elek is gone…" she exhaled a shaky breath, "The Assessor is gone, my family...everyone's gone. Maybe living in the past is the reason why I've never been happy." It was why she would rather end things now then keep living like that. She just didn't know how to do either.

"I know you can be happy," Martha smiled her best one. "You have to want it." And that was the thing: Renata didn't know what she wanted.

"See you around, Martha," Renata smiled warmly.

"...yeah," Martha knew that was still up in the air. Still, there was nothing left to do but leave.

"Martha," Renata called just as the woman reached the door, "If you could do one thing for me...get rid of that Osterhagen key, please? I understand why the humans would create something like but it would just break the Doctor's hearts if it continued to exist. Do that for him, will you?"

Martha knew that by extension, she'd be doing Renata her last wish too. "Of course," she promised and walked out.

"Uh, Renata?" Rose gently called to the Time Lady after Martha left.

Renata saw the woman was a bit feeble, almost afraid. Still, Renata felt like whatever Rose was going to say, it would be better if the Doctor was there too. She had a hunch about what it was and Renata didn't want Rose to have to repeat herself.

"Let's just wait a moment, okay?"

Rose nodded but she was biting her lower lip nervously. She needed to get something off her chest now.

~0~

Bad Wolf Bay.

The next stop for the TARDIS was a breezy, cloudy beach.

Jackie was disgusted of the place as soon as she recognized it. "Ugh, fat lot of good this is! Back of beyond, bloody Norway! I'm gonna have to phone your father. He's on the nursery run."

"You have a baby?" Gabby had come out after her and the metacrisis Doctor.

Jackie nodded proudly. "Had a baby boy!"

"Ah, brilliant! What did you call him?" the metacrisis Doctor asked.

"Doctor."

That made the man stop in his Sandy tracks. "...really?"

"No, you plum. He's called Tony!"

Gabby laughed while the Doctor frowned. Jackie Tyler was too funny!

As soon as Rose stepped into the familiar beach, she was puzzled. She didn't understand what she was doing there again. "Hold on, this is the parallel universe, right?" she asked just as the rest followed out of the TARDIS.

"You're back home," the original Doctor said.

"And the walls of the world are closing again...now that the Reality Bomb never happened. It's dimension retroclosure." Donna smiled proudly of herself. "See, I really get that stuff now."

Rose didn't understand - well, she might. Her teary eyes flickered between the Doctor and Renata. "Is this my punishment? For letting the Daleks through the cracks?"

"Of course not," Renata said softly. She was honestly surprised just like Rose. She didn't think the Doctor would actually choose to bring Rose back to her own world, but once Renata figured out the extent of his plans...she couldn't say that she disagreed. "And I'm sorry I put that idea into your head. This was not your fault, Rose. You had a good heart and the Daleks took advantage of that. This is not a punishment."

"Never," the Doctor agreed. "I would never do that to you.

"But you still want me to stay here! After all that time I spent trying to find you! I'm not going back now!" Rose was in full blown tears that were a mix of frustration and confusion.

The Doctor stepped towards her, hoping to catch her down so she could truly listen to what he needed from her. She always listened, after all. She was very good at that. And it did him so well. That's why only she could do what he needed her to do. "But you've got to. Because we saved the universe, but at a cost. And the cost is him." Offence slipped out of the metacrisis Doctor as soon as the gazes turned on him. "He destroyed the Daleks. He committed genocide. He's too dangerous to be left on his own."

"You made me!"

"Exactly, you were born in battle - full of blood and anger and revenge." The original Doctor turned his attention back to Rose. "Remind you of someone?" Rose would not entertain that answer.

"Yeah, her!" the metacrisis Doctor spat and pointed at Renata. The Time Lady was shocked but, after a few seconds she realized he was absolutely right.

"No, leave her alone!" the original Doctor snapped so aggressively that, without his notice, Rose came to her own conclusions.

"He's right," Renata put a hand on the Doctor's arm, calming him. "I murdered Daleks and I would've nearly had Davros if you hadn't stopped me." She swallowed hard and withdrew her hand from his arm. "I always said I was a terrible person. This just solidifies it."

"Absolutely not," the original Doctor insisted that they were both wrong. "You were on your own for 56 years after the Time War. You never got the chance to heal...not like I had someone." He looked at Rose with a new sense of urgent plead. The blonde had cleaned up her tears but others were still pooling in her eyes. "She and him are me when we first met and you, Rose, made me better. Now you can do the same for him."

"And you for her," Rose whispered, eyes catching Renata's shameful lowering gaze. She could understand that, but it didn't mean she was happy about it, not when she realized the truth. It was the truth she'd been blinding herself to ever since she got to their world. The gentle touches, the ferocity to protect each other, the whispers between them…

"You love her," she whispered, crestfallen.

Both the Doctor and Renata froze. They wouldn't look at each other but neither could say that their hearts hadn't stopped for a second.

"Rose, I need you to do this for me," the Doctor said, going on as if nothing had been said. "You're the only one I trust."

Rose wasn't shaking her head, but she couldn't nod either. "He's not you."

"He needs you. That's very me."

"If I may?" Donna cleared her throat and raised a finger. "He's trying to give you something as well. Because you're right, these two-" she spared the Doctor and Renata a soft smile, "-have something complicated but something nonetheless, whether they want to admit or not." The pair's flushed faces confirmed each of Donna's words. "But him…" Donna nodded over to the metacrisis Doctor, "He's from before - the hand? - he's from your time."

Rose side-glanced the metacrisis Doctor, looking him over to see if Donna was telling the truth.

"I look like him and I think like him... same memories, same thoughts, same everything," the metacrisis Doctor stepped towards her. "All from our time together. The only difference is that I've only got one heart."

Rose seemed to stumble back a few steps. "Which means?"

"I'm part Human. Specifically the aging part. I'll grow old and never regenerate. I've only got one life...Rose Tyler. I could spend it with you. If you want."

"You'll grow- grow old at the same time as me?"

"Together."

Rose placed a hand to his chest to confirm what he was saying. One heart.

She glanced back at Renata and the Doctor.

"One of us should be happy," Renata smiled lightly, albeit a bit sad herself.

The TARDIS made an odd noise, pulling everyone's attention for a moment. Time was running out.

"We've gotta go. This reality's sealing itself off," the Doctor said. Renata nodded in agreement. "Forever."

"But it's still not right," Rose wanted to insist but there was something inside her telling her that this was already over. It just hurt to accept it.

"I think we should say one more thing," Renata stopped the Doctor beside her from turning away. "Thank you. Doctor, did you ever say that to her? Because she did a wonder on you."

The Doctor couldn't help playfully roll her eyes, even Rose was smiling just a tiny bit.

Renata drew in another shaky breath. "You have a healing ability, Rose, that no one else has. I would've liked that for me after I got out of the Time War. He's right," she crossed gazes with the metacrisis Doctor, "I'm just as bad. And having both of us in the same world will do no one any good. But if he stays here, you can help him. And Rose, you can be happy. Happy...something not everyone can be. Take this opportunity and be happy."

Rose stared at Renata for what felt like the longest minute for the latter. She had tilted her head, truly studying the Time Lady. "You're not bad. You're just hurting." And as she said those words she realized that the two were right. She was like the Doctor and if that was true then so was the metacrisis Doctor. "And you need help…" she drew in a breath, letting reality finally come to them. "I understand. But I just...I just have to know one thing, just one. When I last stood on this beach on the worst day of my life... what was the last thing you said to me?"

The Doctor gave a small nod, but it was too hard to go back to that time full of pain. He didn't want to add on more, more heartbreak. "I think...I can let him answer that. After all, it was my answer too."

Renata tried turning for the TARDIS, but in doing so she nearly fell. The Doctor grabbed her by the waist and decided it was best to keep a hold around her. And he concluded that he would much rather hold her right now, making sure that she was okay. Still, he wanted to look back one more time at Rose for goodbyes. She seemed to know his intentions and gave a nod.

"Goodbye," she managed to say through tears.

"Goodbye," he returned. He gently pulled Renata towards the TARDIS and do Donna brought Gabby along as well.

Rose despondently watched the TARDIS disappear, that is...until she felt the metacrisis Doctor slip his hand through hers. He watched her with such fondness that, whether or not she wanted to, a smile worked its way across her face. She couldn't say that all was lost this time.

~0~

"There you go," the Doctor brought Renata straight for the Captain's chair again while Donna piloted the TARDIS (her skills were mighty better as well, it appeared). "Let's try to sit for a while, okay?"

"No," she said, already attempting to get back up. "I want to...be there…"she purposely looked past him to Donna.

He became silent. He knew what she meant.

"You know," Donna was saying to Gabby, "I thought we could try the planet Felspoon. After Renata is better of course. Just 'cos. What a good name, 'Felspoon', you know? Apparently it's got mountains that sway in the breeze. Mountains that move. Can you imagine?"

Gabby shook her head. "Nope! But I'd love to see! Actually, I'd like to stop by and see my family first. See how they're doing after all this.

"Oh yeah! Sure! Course we can do that!" Donna chuckled and moved the controls to get them to New York. "You know, Doctor, you could fix that chameleon circuit if you just try and hotbind in the fragment links and superseding the binary, binary, binary, binary, binary, binary..."

Gabby blinked in shock at the sudden repetition. She looked quickly to the Doctor and Renata but neither of them seemed that surprised, or worried. In fact, it almost seemed like they knew. But knew what?

"Binary, binary, binary, binary, binary, binary, binary, binary, binary-" Donna sucked in a huge breath to stop herself. "I'm fine!" she laughed it off. "Nah, never-mind Felspoon. You know who I'd like to meet? Charlie Chaplin. I've heard he's great, Charlie Chaplin. Shall we do that? Shall we go and see Charlie Chaplin?" she grabbed the console phone, going fast for some reason. "Shall we? Charlie Chaplin? Charlie Chester, Charlie Brown. No, he's fiction, friction, fiction, fixen, mixen, rixten, brixton-" she doubled over in pain and so the Doctor hurried to help her.

"What's happening?" Gabby stared at Donna, full of concern. Donna was holding her head like something was throbbing.

"Donna, do you know what's happening?" Renata gently called. She was moving to stand up and since there was no point in arguing, Gabby decided to help her.

Donna looked at Renata then the Doctor, knowing exactly what they meant but she just didn't want to admit it.

"There's never been a Human-Time Lord metacrisis before now. And you know why," the Doctor hated to see Donna close to tears, especially when she'd been so ecstatic minutes ago.

"Because there can't be," Donna barely managed to say the words without crying. She gently moved away from the Doctor's hold, as if doing that made it not real. "I want to stay…"

Gabby's eyes widened. Why would Donna say something like that? Why wouldn't she able to stay?

"Donna, look at me," the Doctor said but she wouldn't. "Donna, look at me."

Donna finally looked at him but it was with a certain defiance in her eyes. "I was gonna be with you... forever."

"I know…"

"The rest of my life...travelling... in the TARDIS. The Doctor-Donna. With Renata, and Gabby…"

"Donna," Renata moved towards them with Gabby's help but the moment Donna realized what would come next she backtracked in horror.

"No. Oh, my God! I can't go back! Don't make me go back!"

Gabby blinked away tears at how terrified Donna was. She didn't understand a lot but she did know that Donna was nearing the end of her life in the TARDIS.

"Doctor... please. Please, don't make me go back!" Donna resorted to begging. She couldn't leave everything behind to be that simple, non-important Donna again.

The Doctor neared her whether she wanted him or not. "Donna. Oh, Donna Noble. I am so, so sorry. But we had the best of times. The best."

"No! No!"

"Donna, I'm sorry but thank you," Renata took her turn, feeling tears in her eyes as well. "Thank you so much."

"Donna I'm sorry, I'm…" Gabby couldn't put her words together, but she was sure that Donna knew what she wanted to say. She knew what they all wanted to say: goodbye.

No one was listening to her!

"I am entitled to my choice!" she cried.

"Donna if we don't you'll die!" the Doctor almost snapped. "And I have lost too many people to add you to the list. The world cannot live without Donna Noble. But I promise you, I swear, that things will not be the same. You will not forget that confidence. You will know your worth. Goodbye."

"No. No, please! Please! No, NO! No!" Donna's pleads were silenced the moment the Doctor put his fingers against her temples. Everything she lived went into rewind, all the way until the first moment she met the Doctor…

And it all disappeared.

~0~

With tears, the group brought Donna back home for the final time. They'd placed her in her room then went into the living room to explain to Wilf and Sylvia what happened to Donna.

"She took my mind into her own head. But that's a Time Lord consciousness," the Doctor was explaining. "All that knowledge - it was killing her."

"But she'll get better, now?" Wilf asked hopefully. He was relieved to see both the Doctor and Renata nod together.

"I had to wipe her mind, completely. Every trace of us or the TARDIS... everything we did together, anywhere we went... had to go," the Doctor said grimly.

"All those wonderful things she did…"

"I know. But that version of Donna is dead. Because if she remembers, just for a second, she'll burn up. You can never tell her. You can't mention us, or any of it... for the rest of her life."

Sylvia found it impossible. "But the whole world's talking about it. We traveled across space!"

"It'll just be a story. One of those Donna Noble stories, where she missed it all again," the Doctor managed to smile with nostalgia. Donna Noble, missing a story, would be the theme of her life.

"But she was better with you," Wild tried to argue when Sylvia cut in.

"Don't say that-"

"No, she was!"

"You should be proud of her, though," Renata spoke for the first time since arriving. Both Wilf and Sylvia had noticed the woman's pale complexion. "There are worlds out there, safe in the sky, because of her. There are people living in the light, singing songs of Donna Noble, a thousand million light-years away…and they will never forget her. While she can never remember." It wasn't the ending that Donna deserved at all. Just thinking about it brought fresh new tears to her eyes.

"And for one moment... one shining moment... she was the most important woman in the whole wide universe," the Doctor sighed lightly.

"She still is," Sylvia responded curtly. "She's my daughter."

"Well then maybe you should tell her that once in a while," Gabby quipped. She knew first-hand what it was like feeling worthless in the eyes of your family. She'd worked endlessly at her parent's restaurant and the laundromat, letting life slip away. But when her parents finally told her to do what she always wanted to do, just like she always dreamed of, it brought an indescribable feeling. Everyone needed that, to know they were worth something

Sylvia lowered her gaze and didn't say more. A few seconds later, they heard Donna coming down the stairs. The trio of travelers stiffened when she came in, completely oblivious to their presence.

"I was asleep, on my bed, in my clothes, like a flippin' kid!" she exclaimed with her phone in hand. "What did you let me do that for?!" It hurt more when she spared them the tiniest glances. They were no longer important to her. "Don't mind me. Donna."

"John Smith," the Doctor rose from the couch, prompting Renata and Gabby to do the same.

"Ren," Renata left it short just in case.

"Fernanda," Gabby said and earned herself a brief glance from Renata and the Doctor. Did she forget to mention to them that she had a middle name?

Donna shook each of their hands but almost out of sheer politeness.

"They were just leaving," Sylvia said, eyeing them with a 'you better do it' look.

"My phone's gone mad! Thirty-two texts, Veena's gone barmy, she's saying planets in the sky - what have I missed now?" Donna shouted and turned to leave, but not without a vague "Nice to meet you".

"Like I said, you should go," Sylvia sternly told the trio.

"We will," Renata stumbled to walk up to the woman and she swatted the Doctor's and Gabby's helping hands. "But you mark my words: you better not undo the confidence Donna has built up. The Doctor made sure to leave that part of her intact. Because Donna at least deserved that. She may not be able to see us but we will be keeping an eye on this house, on Donna and if I find out that you are belittling her again I will come straight for you!" Golden flames briefly sprouted from her body, finishing the job of terrifying Sylvia.

The Doctor gingerly brought her back beside him, but he silently applauded Renata. A good scare oughta put Sylvia in her place.

~0~

The trio found that it'd began to rain outside, coming along with thunder to finish the grim night.

"Ah... you'll have quite a bit of this. Atmospheric disturbance. Still, it'll pass," the Doctor explained to Wilf who'd accompanied them to the doorstep. "Everything does…" he turned to Wilf and shook a hand with him. "Bye then, Wilfred."

"Goodbye," Renata went next then Gabby.

"I'll watch out for you," Wilf promised but ended up worrying the Doctor.

"You can't ever tell her!"

"No, no, no. But every night, Doctor... when it gets dark... and the stars come out... I'll look up. On her behalf. I'll look up at the sky and think of you all."

The Doctor was touched of such a thing. "Thank you." He brought Renata down the front porch step and walked slowly with her, despite it being pouring.

Gabby took the lead with a sprint and opened the TARDIS doors for them. The pair came in eventually, now soaking wet. Gabby watched them slowly make it to the Captain's chair and she followed them but there was something she wanted to say that she didn't know how to word well.

She didn't know when it was appropriate to talk after... everything. Donna's forced departure was sure to be something that no one would be getting over soon. Donna had been a part of their small space family. Plus, Donna had been like a confidant for Gabby about all their space travels and what that did to them sometimes. Gabby realized that now there would be no other human - someone like her - to remember those memories. Donna had come first to the TARDIS but it seemed like Gabby would be the one to stay until the end.

"Um, Doctor? Renata?" she began with a soft call. The Doctor had pulled the TARDIS into the Vortex, making the box give a gentle shake. "I, uh, I... I'd really like to see my family. Just for a bit…"

"-of course, Gabby," Renata smiled at the girl. It was natural for her to want to see her family after what happened.

"If you want to stay for a while, that'd be fine too," the Doctor added.

"I don't want to stop!" Gabby exclaimed, wanting to leave that loud and clear. "I don't want to stop anytime soon! I just...I'd like to explain to them what it is I'm really doing. I want to be honest with them."

"Sounds good," Renata smiled but barely contained a groan. Her hand moved to her stomach.

Gabby watched sadly as the Doctor hurried to Renata's side. "Are you going to be okay, Renata?" she asked, sighing.

"Well, no regeneration energy right now so...not dying...for now," Renata scrunched her face. "I don't really know if I'll make it out of the woods, as you humans say. But I think I know where I have to go." She looked specifically at the Doctor for that bit, knowing that it was something he'd been trying to avoid ever since she brought it up earlier. "And I have to stay there for a while."

~0~

Zhe's gallery remained exactly the same as when the travelers first left it. No one was allowed up in her private moon but this time but this time, Zhe herself was down in the gallery when the travelers arrived. She came to greet them as soon as someone alerted her of the wheezing box. However, she knew instantly that something had happened for the Doctor was grim as he and Gabby helped Renata walk out of the blue box.

"What has happened?" she inquired as soon as they were face to face.

"Long story, could I please get a chair?" Renata smiled as politely as ever despite the pain that was rippling through her.

Once Zhe brought them into her office, where Renata could rest on a whole couch to herself, the Doctor began to explain everything. He started with the contamination that began the last time they visited the gallery, and how Renata was further infected with foreign nanonites from Dorothy Bell and the Osirans, then finished it with the Vortex Butterfly bit. He threw in Gabby's own manifested powers.

To say Zhe was in shock would be an understatement, but she wouldn't let that derail her from helping in any way that she could. "I'm sorry my Quantum Sphere did that to you - to both of you," she looked between Renata and Gabby. "I-I thought they would've just faded away."

"It's not your fault," Gabby said. "If anything, it's on me. If I hadn't let your apprentice touch me then neither me nor Renata would've been infected in the first place."

"Hey - no!" Renata was quick to interject. "No one is to blame, except myself. Let's be honest, this is just my punishment for the things I've done in the past. But Zhe, the reason I'm here is because I need to ask for a favor."

Zhe nodded, already agreeing no matter what. "Anything."

"I don't know why but...I feel like this place is the only place where I can be at peace for a while. I need to expel more of this energy, learn to control if I'm not going to die. Your art gallery - your private moon - there's no danger there if I unexpectedly combust. Can I stay, please?"

Zhe's eyes flickered to the Doctor and took note of the deep pain on the man's face. He wasn't at all for this idea but he was doing it for Renata because she wanted it. "Of course, Renata. You are as welcomed here as the Doctor is. You can stay for as long as you need to."

"Thank you," Renata nodded. She glanced at the Doctor as well and figured they might as well get it over with. "Can I just speak to the Doctor alone for a moment?"

"Yes, of course," Zhe nodded. She gestured for Gabby to follow her out. "We'll be outside if you need anything."

"Thank you," Renata watched them leave and when they were gone she finally let herself sigh as deep as an ocean was. She was so tired and if she didn't get to close her eyes in the next five minutes perhaps death would come for her then.

"Renata, you don't have to leave," the Doctor approached her on the couch. "If it's because of what happened before all the Daleks...I would never make you leave."

"It's not just that, Doctor," Renata shifted a bit to better face him. "I meant what I said about this energy thing. If I'm not going to die anytime soon, then I need to learn how to control this and can you imagine if I let it all out inside the TARDIS? All that extra vortex energy will not be good. And you know that, don't you?" the Doctor didn't say anything but his lowered gaze answered for him. "Besides, can you honestly look at me and not feel just a tad of anger for what I did?"

As if to test her theory, he gazed up and looked into her eyes. He wanted to say 'of course not' so badly, but then he remembered her lies...and her so many lies. He didn't want her to leave, nor did he want anything to happen to her, but he was a bit upset too. He was rightfully upset.

Renata smiled so warmly at him, just like Zuriah would. When she reached to touch his face, the Doctor instantly felt the same warmth he used to feel back in their early days. It finally made sense to him why she was so familiar to him, why he so easily fell for her as John Smith. It was why it was incredibly easy to make a choice between her and Rose.

"I love you, Gala," the words just slipped from his mouth before he could even think of it. There was a flutter of Renata's hearts when she heard her true name come from his lips. It'd been one of the most sacred rules they had broken by learning each other's names without being married. But she had loved the way her name sounded on his lips, even now the feelings stayed the same with the same level of love. "Meeting you all those centuries ago was the best thing that happened to me."

"Even though it led to so much heartbreak?" she tilted her head, fresh tears coming to her eyes.

"I would rather go through all that than to have never met you." He took her hand off his face and held it between his two hands. He gave her palm a soft kiss then looked at her again, needing her to understand that he was being 100% honest with her. Yes, he could trade that all in and spare himself the pain he felt losing her and learning that she had been travelling with him all this time. All this he would take just to see her again. That was what Martha had been trying to get him to understand before all the mess happened. "Getting the community service was the beginning of everything. I met the sweetest, kindest girl on that first day. It was the beginning of my greatest adventure - my riskiest - and it was the end of any hope of a life without her. She yelled a lot-" Renata chuckled with her blushing cheeks, "-but she had the best hearts on Gallifrey. Renata, you have a golden soul."

"I don't think I do," Renata's smile became a sad one. "I've done very bad stuff."

"So have I."

"But there's no darkness inside of you. You have always been a golden soul and I don't think that's ever going to change. So please listen to me when I say that despite everything that's happened, I don't want to lose you a third time." The Doctor took a seat next to her, never letting go of her hand. "I lost you once when you said no to running away, and then I lost you again after the Time War. I am not interested in losing you this time around."

"You would really want to...to be with me?" Renata blinked fairly fast out of genuine surprise but also because of the tears that wanted to stroll down from her eyes.

"My sweet Gala, of course. But I know that you're not ready, and perhaps neither am I just yet, so you take your time here. Rest, train, relax. And I will work hard to try to find a cure or something to help you. I'll come around every day to make sure you're okay." He'd much rather stay with her on the planet but he knew well that she wanted to be alone. "And when time passes, maybe you and I...we could, you know…" he trailed off with high hopes that she would nod her head at him.

She chuckled. "I'd...I'd like that." Martha's first words to her, after discovering who Renata truly was, came back to her mind. It was time to move on from her husband. "I mean, to be honest, I don't really know how to...be happy, in a sense. But maybe I can learn with you."

A great big grin came to the Doctor's face. He kissed her hand again then pulled her into a tight hug. Renata welcomed it fast and hugged him as tight as possible.

"Take care of Gabriella for me, okay?" she mumbled after a moment. "I don't want anything to happen to her, nothing like Donna."

The Doctor agreed when he drew away from her. "Nothing. I'll be over-protective to the point she'll want to vent to you about me. But I swear that no one will touch a hair on her head."

"I trust you," Renata smiled.

"Well, alright then…" he awkwardly looked around once he realized the time to go was now. "I'll, um...be on my way, then." Renata nodded. "Here." He pulled out Martha's cellphone from his inside pocket. "I'll answer anytime you need me, I promise." He stood up from the couch and backtracked to the door. "I'll be back, Renata."

"I know," she nodded. "And I'll...be here, working on myself." The Doctor smiled one more time before heading out and when he did, Renata once again had to exhale like she'd been holding in her breath.

A few seconds later, Zhe came in. "The Doctor and Gabby are on their way out."

"Yes, I know," Renata wearily blinked.

Zhe came around the couch and bent down in front of her. "Can I offer you something?"

"Some advice wouldn't be bad."

"Well, alright then. What do you need advice for?"

Renata pursed her lips together and let herself think about everything in her lives that she'd regretted, the unhappiness that came with it - the pain - and she turned her head to the side. "What do you do when you love someone so much but...you just don't know how to be happy?" Zhe blinked in confusion. "Why is that even though I have a wonderful man waiting for me, I still want to...die?"

Zhe went into shock and after a few minutes of processing, she became worried.

"I want to die," Renata's whisper was the last noise to be made in the room for a good while.

#ocappreciation #dailyreblogs #doctor who #10th doctor #doctor who fics #10th doctor fics #dw imagines #10th doctor imagines #doctor who imagines #10th doctor fanfics #oc: Renata Cartwright #gabby gonzalez #fic: the beginning of everything

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lemonjoonah · 5 years

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Artificially Inclined - Pt 3

Title: Artificially Inclined (A.I.) Word Count: 6K Rating: M Genre: Android AU, Assassin AU, Scifi, Romance (smut), Drama, Thriller Warnings: Violence, Disability Discrimination, Drug Use, Sexual Reference Pairings: Maknae Line x Reader (Primarily Jungkook x Reader) Pairings (in this chapter): Jungkook x Reader, Taehyung x Reader

Summary: You took Jungkook on as a project, something to help you pass the time in your exile. How could you have known that he would become such a big part of your life? That he would see you as his entire reason for existence, and the only method for his survival. When an outsider, V, is forced into your life, after learning of the secret that keeps you hidden away, relationships shift and tension grows high. After all, how can you expect Jungkook to share your attention when he’s held it for so long?

A/N: Just a forewarning there is going to be a major tone shift two thirds of the way through this chapter. It’s a POV switch, which is written in true first person (as opposed to the modified version I sometimes write in). I considered splitting it off into another chapter but in order for you to get the full view of what’s happening I decided to keep it all together. Enjoy!

Chapter 3 - Execution Flaw

Present 9:40 am December 4th, 2054

POV (Y/N)

“I would like you to ask me Noona. If it happens again, I want to help you.”

You find yourself repeating, ‘he doesn’t know what he’s asking,’ over and over in your mind until you find a way to resolve his request. ...Jungkook what do you feel towards me? When you see me what is your first reaction?...

“I want to assist you.”

...Would you ever deny me a request?...

“Of course not Noona.”

...Then I’m sorry but I can’t ask you to help me. I know you say that you want to, but you do not yet possess the components that equate to consent in this matter... The explanation you give is formal but it’s the best you have.

“And what are those components?” Jungkook’s eagerness weighs on you, it’s as if he expects to receive a simple answer that will clarify everything.

...There are a few but I suppose the basics would consist of love, desire, and the ability to refute...

“The update that Hyung gave you, will that not solve these issues?”

...I’m not sure Jungkook, I need to look at the coding first. I don’t want to walk into this blindly...

“May I look at it?”

...I think it’s best if I hold onto it for now...

“It would be more efficient for me to examine the software.”

...Jungkook, it would make me happy if you dropped the subject... You cringe internally as you write those words but you find yourself unsure of how else to get him to change the conversation. You don’t want to even risk him even seeing the coding in case he begins the update unintentionally after viewing the programming. He has a habit of latching on to so much information and then integrating it into his system. If he feels like something will improve his capabilities he will seek to upload it.

Jungkook goes silent, but watches your expression closely as you head towards the dining room for breakfast. Your plate is set at your seat stuffed to the edge with your favourites, while the rest of the table remains bare. Jungkook takes the seat next to you as your mind continues to dwell on his proposal.

“You’re not happy.”

You look back to Jungkook, confused by his statement.

...What do you mean?...

“You said that if I dropped the subject you would be happy.”

...Sorry, I was just thinking about tonight... Such a bold face lie, you scold yourself while taking a bite of an apple. Not wanting to meet his eyes you look to the toast rack next for a slice of whole wheat but today you find it empty.

“Would you like to discuss the schedule for the day?”

...Yes please anything to distract me...

“Your brother should arrive home in just over an hour. Followed by your meeting with him regarding your dissertation. Your parents will get in just before the party which will start at 8pm and then fly out again at 11pm. It appears they have also just sent you and Seokjin a joint email wishing you a Happy Birthday.”

Jungkook abruptly stops the rundown while his head tilts in the direction of the kitchen. This behaviour is nothing new, with his improved hearing he can often listen in on things that might be impossible for you to pick up.

He stands up from his seat and moves in the direction he was staring off into. “I’ll return shortly Noona.”

When he opens the door to the kitchen you can briefly hear the ruckus inside, before the door slams shut behind him again.

Jungkook returns a minutes later with an appliance in tow.

...Jungkook why do you have a toaster?...

He looks down at the small device he’s cradling in hands. “I can fix it Noona.”

After giving you the vague answer, he sits back down and looks ominously at the door, until your head chef bursts forth to address you.

“Keep that mechanical pet of yours out of my kitchen!”

...Jungkook is allowed to go wherever he wishes. If he enters your kitchen there is obviously a reason for him to be there...

“He stole the toaster!”

...Jungkook why did you take it?...

“She was yelling at it and hitting it, I wanted her to stop. I can repair it.”

...If Jungkook wishes to fix the toaster I see no problem here...

“Fine he can keep the damn thing, I’ll just get a new one that actually works.”

As the cook returns to the kitchen you shake your head. You wish that occurrences like this were rare but unfortunately Jungkook has a habit of rubbing some people the wrong way. It’s not his fault, he’s just trying to help them. Why can’t they see that?

“She was going to throw it out Noona.” There is such distress in his voice that your frustration crumbles. You know that he worries that he will be treated the same one day. He only wants to show people the value of technology... even if it is a simple toaster.

...I know Jungkook...

“Why do humans dispose of things so quickly?”

...Because they don’t understand. They feel that it’s not worth their time fix something that’s broken...

“Why are you different Noona?”

...Because to them I am broken too... You identify far more with the appliance in Jungkook’s hands than the women who was trying to dispose of it.

“You are not broken Noona. You are living within the parameters of how you were made. You cannot give fault to the device, only the creator.”

...Thank you Jungkook...

...

After breakfast you begin prepping for your discussion with Seokjin, while also taking a glancing through his correspondence from the past year.

Dec. 7th, 2053

...I’m sorry, I’m so sorry that I left you there. I just couldn’t stay, I couldn’t stand the thought of being in the house where we were lied to our whole lives for even a moment longer. I was selfish, I hadn’t considered what you might be feeling. Please let me know that you’re okay. I won’t be coming home for a while but I just need you to know that you are still my sister, my very brilliant sister.

- Seokjin...

...

Dec. 31st, 2053

...Sorry I haven’t been able to visit. I’ll see if I can get some time off for the Lunar Holiday. I’m glad to hear that you are doing well. I have some fantastic news to share. The first of the new defence model units are coming off the production line. I am taking a couple semesters off from grad school to be involved with their development but they should be ready to go within a year! They never would have made it this far without out your insight, I just thought you, my brilliant sister, should know the incredible work you’ve done.

-Seokjin...

...

Feb. 8th, 2054

...Happy Lunar New Year! And again I must send my apologies. They’ve been keeping me busy here. One day I’ll bring you to the international factory to show you what you helped create. I know that I haven’t been home to discuss your work, trust me when I say that I miss those times too, but you can always send anything you wish to discuss to my dropbox. You may have to explain it to me though because there is no way I could ever live up to your brilliance.

-Seokjin...

...

June 23rd, 2054 (Message has been decrypted by JK0901)

...I’m sure you’ve guessed by now the reasons for the lack of communication, especially with it being all over the news. But I figured you would want me to confirm. There has been some push back with our new units from two extremist groups. The first is a religious organization called S(e)oul First, I would almost enjoy their cleaver name were it not for their antics. They claim that we are playing god, and taking innocent lives with our soulless creations, so their recourse has been to attack out our factories. We have managed to secure our production lines in classified locations but contact in and out must be limited and heavily encrypted, for fear of discovery.

The second group, known as Asimov's Law, has been trying to push that we bind all androids to rules set in popular fiction. I mean really, can you believe that? They have been relatively quiet recently, but I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before they make their strike too. So please, I am begging you, stay by JK0901, and stay safe. I’ll contact you when I can.

-Seokjin...

...

Nov. 25th, 2054 (Message has been decrypted by JK0901)

...Thank you for all of your messages and updates. I can finally make a short trip back home for our birthday next week, although I suppose there will be some business mixed in too. I guess that party that our parents are throwing will also be the official public announcement of the military line, there will be several government officials in attendance. So much for our celebration right?

But with this trip I’ll finally be able to discuss your progress with you in person. I must say I was surprised to see the direction you are taking your work. My flight gets in just after 10am so I’ll probably make it home around 11 shall we take some time then to discuss your findings then?

-Seokjin...

...

The second that Seokjin steps in the door he wraps you in a tight hug. You can hardly contain your excitement so see your brother again after so long.

“I guess you missed me too?” He laughs as he pulls you away slowly. “After what I did I don’t deserve such kindness.”

You shake your head to convey that all is forgotten.

“Come on I know you’re anxious to show me what you’ve been up to.”

With your annual report due to the research team in a matter of days you are looking for some initial feedback. The subject matter is so unusual that the lens through which it is presented becomes essential to its reception.

As Seokjin looks over your final paper you watch his expression closely. His brow furrows several times as if in confusion.

...What’s wrong?...

“It’s good I’m just a little perplexed as to how it will benefit the direction in which the company is currently going. You’re discussing possible advancements to affective computing but we already have a good baseline for emotional recognition. It’s expensive research to conduct and I worry that we would see little return if we continued to invest in that area.”

...It could be improved. I spend most of my time with Jungkook and he still struggles to determine some emotional expressions. But this isn’t just about androids seeing and understanding emotions but possibly even feeling them...

“What benefit would that give to the military defense units?”

...You said it yourself that people are having difficulty accepting them. This might help bridge the gap...

“We are not going to cater to extremists, they will never be happy.”

...Then at least for household droids. If I can work with Jungkook to the point where he is able to develop his own emotions. We could apply that to assistant units and such, it could make their productivity increase if they can apply emotional intelligence...

“I was worried about this....” It’s with a sigh that Seokjin continues, “We are not trying to make them human (Y/N).”

You feel a sense of embarrassment as he simplifies your work so bluntly. You can only assume he wants you to see the error of your ways, but why? Why is it so wrong to want this for them? Jungkook makes you feel more human than anyone else, yet you can’t give him the same experience.

...No but I would like them to understand. They should understand what they are fighting, and what they are protecting...

...

“I’m sorry Noona.”

...For what?...

“I’m sorry that Master wasn’t impressed by our work.”

...He just doesn’t find value in it yet. I’m sure once we are successful he will...

Jungkook is currently helping you with your dress for tonight. You didn’t realize when you ordered it that the back consisted of intricate laces that the wearer would need assistance with. But of course Jungkook was more than willing to aid you. You watch him in his progress through the mirror in front of you. He himself had already changed into the same black suit that all of the security units would be wearing.

As his fingers threaded the ribbon through the notches in the fabric they would occasionally brush the skin of your back. After each loop he tugs on the lace cinching it together. This causes you to lose balance several times during the process but he stops to brace you when it does.

...Did you manage to fix the toaster while I was with Seokjin?...

He beams back at you through the mirror, “Yes I did.”

...What was wrong with it?...

“User error. She did not maintain the appliance, she is not like you.” He yanks on the strings of the gown one last time pulling you into him. Jungkook’s face now right beside yours, you watch through the looking glass as he looks at you intently, whispering into your ear, “You take such good care of me Noona.” His fingers trail along the boning of the dress, pressing down and smoothing out the fabric on your skin as they move along. “How does that fit?”

Reluctantly taking your eyes off him, you test the bodice with a tug. ...I think it could be a little tighter...

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

...You won’t, I won’t be wearing it for long. I am just worried about it falling...

“Formal attire seems so unnecessarily complex.”

...Yes, yes it is. It’s amazing what we’ll do to look pretty...

“You are already pretty Noona.” You inhale sharply as he tightens the gown further. “Based on the standards of society you are considered attractive.”

Your hand hovers over the tablet as you ponder if you should press him further. ...What about your standards?...

“I don’t have standards of beauty, but I suppose it could be considered my drive to observe you. If that’s the case I consider you very beautiful.” His hand comes to find your wrist. “Are you sure it doesn’t hurt, your heart is racing again.”

You nod to him, flush with embarrassment.

...

The party is contained to a separate building on the property used for entertaining guests. On one side there is a large elaborate ballroom and on the other there is a corridor filled with smaller rooms, including your refuge in the form of a piano parlor. An evening such as this often becomes a test on how short you can make your appearance without it seeming odd or rude.

Without your tablet in hand you feel empty and anxious. Clinging to Jungkook's arm as if he is a crutch. You have done this so many times before but each spectacle makes you nervous wondering if this will be the time someone figures out your secret before you can leave. As you enter you nod to the several people who recognize you. You find yourself fortunate for your brother, all of the guests have their sights set on him for discussion not just because of his position, but due to his affable nature. Jungkook quickly ushers you to the corner occupied by Namjoon.

One of the temporary wait staff hired for the evening approaches to offer you a glass of champagne. Jungkook turns them away for you to avoid any issue. Namjoon eyes the waiter as he leaves, waiting until the staff is fully out of sight before addressing you.

“You look stunning.”

You cock your head and glower at him. Namjoon says this every year.

“What? I’m still not allowed to say that?.”

“Not to my sister.” Seokjin steps up to your side.

“Seokjin.”

“Namjoon.”

You look between the two men letting out a huff at their cold acknowledgment of each other. Namjoon and Seokjin have never quite seen eye to eye. Namjoon hates him for labeling your work as his, while Seokjin loathes him for not paying the respect his title demands.

Seokjin leans into you while taking a sip of champagne. “They've really outdone themselves this time haven’t they. Our parents thought it would be smart to invite all of my old school mates to make it seem like an actual party, not a publicity event. Pathetic isn’t it? I haven’t seen half of these people for more than 10 years.”

You nod noting that the room looks more full than usual. You scan the ballroom taking a pause for a moment as you see a familiar face in the crowd. It couldn’t be, is it really him?

Seokjin takes note of your distraction following your gaze. “Is that V? That’s a surprise. Do you remember him too? I heard there was an accident, and lost a good portion of his memory. I’m shocked to see him here, rumors are that he likes to keep to himself now.”

You lock eyes with the guest from your past, for a brief moment you consider that maybe, just maybe he remembers you too. But he turns his head away quickly and without acknowledgment, dashing any hope for you to reunite.

“I have to give the announcement soon. You should be good to leave after that.” Seokjin turns to Jungkook, “JK0901, I’ll leave her to you. I can at least trust that you won’t run off with some frivolous tart while on guard duty.” He smirks at Namjoon after issuing the order, with the obvious attention of giving offense.

“Someone sounds jealous. I could give you a few pointers on how to attract people, but that would require you to be a decent human being.” You elbow Namjoon in the ribs for his comment, but he continues to sneer at Seokjin. “Go ahead, run along now, go take credit for work that isn’t yours.”

As Seokjin leaves you glare at Namjoon, but he only scoffs at your expression. “You know it’s considered rude to give your tutor such a look... you’re lucky I find it amusing.”

...

A herd of people begin to congregate closer to the stage for Seokjin’s speech. You find a couple of them looking to your direction, they seem curious of you but intimidated by Jungkook's presence.

“My sister and I would like to thank you for coming this evening to celebrate our birthday. We also must pass along the apology that my parents are unable to join us at the moment as their travel plans were delayed, they hope to arrive as soon as possible. But that leaves me with the pleasure of sharing official news of the progress we have been making. As of today, we have just shipped out 500 new military units equipped with state of the art programming that will keep us safe for years to come. Human soldiers will become a thing of the past, and soon conscription will no longer be necessary.” There was an uproar of applause. “This has been the goal of our company for a long time but of course we couldn’t done it without your support, so please enjoy yourselves tonight!

As sound of the ovation comes to an end you have your cue to leave. For some reason after a speech the environment always becomes palpable with excitement and people will often try to embrace you with conversation. Hiding yourself behind Jungkook, he edges you to the hallway with several androids guarding the entrance to make your exit.

You are only too happy to be lead back to the parlor by Jungkook. He guides you to your favourite spot in the room, the piano bench. Your tablet already there and waiting for you.

“May I give you your present now Noona?”

You look over to him with a curious interest. ...Jungkook you aren’t required to give me anything for my birthday...

“Neither is Hyung, but you accepted his gift. Will you receive mine too?”

You nod expecting him to pull something out from a pocket but instead he places his hands on the keys in front of you. The ivory presses beneath his fingers in the form of a familiar melody. It’s an accompaniment, the perfect fit to the first piece he had ever heard you play.

...You learned how to play?...

He nods, “Your music is essential you, I want to be part of it too.”

...But this song, you remember it? I haven’t played it in so long...

Jungkook looks to you as he continues, not even missing a beat. “I can recall everything you do Noona, but the memory of this song keeps repeating for me. At first I thought it was an error, but I believe this is what humans experience when a memory is important to them, is it not?”

You nod to confirm, a tear escaping you as you are overwhelmed with emotion. Jungkook’s fingers pause on the keys to address your tears ...No, keep playing, these are happy tears I promise...

“Will you play it with me? Can I hear your voice with mine?”

The small piano bench encourages you to press your side against his as you take up position. Your fingers quake slightly as they join his on the instrument, matching Jungkook's slow soft tempo allowing your fingers to roll over the instrument's keys.

His hand nudges yours as your notes draw closer together. His sound is a little more forceful than your own, especially for such a piece. This time you place your hand on his, guiding him to caress the keys, showing him how feather light touches can convey just as much. Wondering if he can see how it changes the emotional impact of the song.

Jungkook looks to you again with another question as the piece comes to a close, “Noona that man Master was referring to earlier, V, did you know him?”

You finish off the last few notes before responding. ...I did. A long time ago, before I met you...

You were upset that V did not recognize you when you met eyes, but Jungkook more than makes up for that now. He will never leave you, he will never forget you. So why is it so hard to wipe the boy with the boxy grin from your mind?

You find Seokjin standing in the doorway with a coy grin on his face. “Mom and Dad just arrived if you want to see them?”

You shake your head and lowered your eyes, “Yeah I felt the same, luckily they’ll only be here for an hour or two and then they are heading out with the Prime Minister.” He nods at Jungkook, “So now you’re training it how to play the piano too?”

Seokjin paces closer to see your answer ...He is acting off his own impulses. This is what I’ve been trying to tell you, they are more than just assistants or soldiers...

“For our company to thrive they can’t be, we need soldiers who are going to take orders not question their leaders. This is for the greater good. You heard what I said, with these units we can save lives, we can end conscription.”

Seokjin’s phone suddenly starts to blare out, he looks at the display with apprehension “Why would they risk a call from there? This line isn’t secure.” He mutters quietly before answering the phone.

“Hello, yes why are you... what... what the hell do you mean it never arrived? How can 500 units just go missing?... Do you know what that shipment was worth?” Seokjin’s anger is overflowing, it’s terrifying to see him in such a rage. “Have them send the jet to Seoul I’ll leave right away.”

He gives out a sigh as he hangs up. “Sorry sis, I’ll have to cut this trip short. I’ll send word soon once I make sure that we can have a secure conversation. It looks like our friends have decided to act out again.” There’s a swift kiss to your check before he exits out the back.

While Seokjin takes his leave, Jungkook stares at the other door that leads to the long hallway and ballroom.

...What’s wrong?...

“One of the guests has passed out, possibly do to an allergic reaction. The units on site have sent out an emergency signal to respond.”

...You should go, they might need your help...

“You’ll be okay Noona?”

You nod and wave him off out the door.

In his absence you returning to your piano calling up a different piece from your past, one you learned and played before Jungkook's time. The song you played for V so many years ago. The song he loved to listen to as he sat by your side... the one that prompted him to give you your first kiss at the age of 13. Seokjin might think V a distant memory, but for you he still holds strong.

You had keep your friendship secret from Seokjin, from your family. For fear of what they would do if they found out he knew of your disability.

V would always tell the guards he was coming to visit Seokjin as a child when really he was coming to see you. It had broken you deeply when he and his family moved away in your yearly teen years. You had heard about the accident too. The one that took his family and many of his memories. You wonder how much he could remember. If he can recall you or your time together, does he know of your friendship that grew despite your defect?

The door pushes back open, you keep playing knowing that Jungkook wouldn’t want you to stop on his account. But It’s not Jungkook who comes to stand by your side...

“Sorry to interrupt.”

It’s Kim Vincent... V.

Maybe it was the song you just played, maybe it was the fact that you were reliving the memory, you couldn’t help but toss aside priority for once, leaping up from your piano and pulling him into a hug.

...

Asimov’s Law safe house, Seoul 12:00 pm December 4th, 2054

POV Taehyung

“Fuck!” I curse out as our captive’s vomit spills all over my shoes.

Yoongi enters the room chuckling once he sees the reason for my swear. Calling out to the one who should have been in my predicament. “Hoseok get your ass out here! It’s your job to keep him alive until tonight.”

I look back to the man tied to the chair, Kim Vincent. He’s high as a kite with bile now dripping from his chin. I still can’t shake the eeriness I feel when I look upon him. I know that the whole plan relies on our likeness, but having someone who resembles me so closely is unnerving.

“Did you get everything you needed? I just got the confirmation to proceed for tonight.”

“I think so, we should try and keep him at a better level though, he’s too far gone. I might require any last minute information he can remember but he’s useless like this.” I push the man’s head back proving my point when I release it to lull forward again.

“When we found him he wasn’t much better. You either get this or serious withdrawal symptoms. No one wants an irritable drug addict.”

“Ugh gross.” Hope finally enters the room to look after his charge. “Leave the shoes Tae I’ll find you some other ones. Is Jimin back yet?”

“From his pre-op ritual? No he was out all night, someone must have kept him busy.” I respond with cynicism. The lock on the door begins to rattle and in stumbles Jimin. “Speak of the devil, cutting it a little close aren’t you? Were you out enjoying your walk of shame?”

“I have plenty of time, and he was worth every step. I was sad to see he already left the hotel when I woke up though, I could have gone for another round.” Jimin gives a smug look as he examines the state of the room he’s just entered. “You should join me next time rather than stress here all night. I can find you someone to help relax.”

“I think I’ll pass.”

“Suit yourself.” Jimin strolls off to his room with a hum.

“Yoongi where you able to find any more information on our employer?”

“Nothing. Although I expect they are involved with the S(e)oul First movement. They must be part of something big for the amount they’re paying us.”

“Even if they are as close to the family as they boast?’

“That could have been their motive to get so close, we can’t be sure. Their wish to remain anonymous is not surprising, they’re giving us our chance and letting us choose between the two targets so we shouldn’t complain.”

“I’ll take out both if I can. They may just want to send a message, but I want to win this war.”

“Don’t risk it if you don’t have the window though, the male heir is the priority. She will inherit a large fortune, but he is in line to receive the company. This is going to be more dangerous than you anticipate. With so many units around, your time is going to be limited and our communication almost non-existent. Their security is impossible to hack, you’ll be blind, other than what the informant has given us.”

“Just be ready with the switch once I send the green light.”

...

As I hand over my invitation to the staff they compare my face to the image they have on file, directing me thought the metal detector and into the ballroom once they confirm my identity.

It’s hard to believe the number of people of importance that they’ve stuffed into one room. It’s like they are asking for us to make a move. For god sake even the Prime Minister is here. I tug the collar around my neck pulling it forward, countering the weight of the carbon fiber blade tucked into the back of my vest.

The family’s son is making his rounds as I enter. Not wanting to engage him just yet I move to the opposite end of the room confirming guards and exit points. The memory loss from Vincent’s past accident is a decent alibi but if I can avoid all possible conversation I will.

I soon spot Jimin in a wait staff uniform and have to cover a snicker. He always hates these support roles, preferring to be the one to make the strike, but that assignment falls on me today.

After a long wait I watch as the heiress steps into the hall. I had expected her to be just as exuberant as her brother but there seems to be something different about her. Instead of greeting guests she simply confines herself to a corner with her date... no wait, that must be her guard. I almost didn’t recognize him for the android that he is, had it not been for the suit that he’s dawning I might have continued to think him human.

Now that I know him to be a unit I can see the additional signs, how he stands perfectly still, how his eyes dart about the room. But when he looks to the heiress, that is when he appears almost human again. I’ve never seen that expression before in an android, it’s almost as if his whole existence relies on her. He watches every move she makes, and clings so desperately to her side. This could be a problem, what if he doesn’t leave with the others...

I step over to Jimin and grab a glass of champagne from him. “Restroom, two minutes.” I can’t be seen talking with him out on the floor unless I want to draw suspicion to him after my task is done.

I check under the stalls to find it all clear. This is the only spot I can be sure I won't be recorded or overheard.

“That unit...”

“I know, bold of her to bring her sex toy into public don’t you think?”

“Jimin, if he’s not on the security programming he won’t leave her.”

“He’ll leave, he has to be linked to the system in some format.” Jimin pauses in consideration before continuing the assessment of our situation, “That other man though, do you think he’ll follow them?”

“The tutor? No I’ve been told he usually stays until the end of these parties, despite the fact that the heirs always take leave early.”

“She seems like a piece of work, doesn’t she?” Jimin chuckles darkly, “Maybe we should change targets. The son at least thanked me when I offered him a drink, she didn’t even bother to say a word, just turned her head away like I was nothing.”

“I would look away too if a flirtatious brat offered me a drink.”

“Fuck you, she would be so lucky.” Jimin bites back before letting out a long sigh, “This is exhausting waiting on these people, we should have just poisoned them, we’d be done by now.”

“Too risky, and too many variables.”

Jimin moves back to the door. “Fine we’ll stick to your plan Once both of the heirs leave I’ll send out the package, watch for the recipient and then give you a three minute warning.”

...

The son’s speech was cringe worthy, but not as bad as the crowd's reaction. I watch as they are enthralled by him and this perfect family. The end to conscription, that’s their goal? I highly doubt that.

I observe the daughter leave surprisingly early since she was the last to arrive. Exiting down a hall with two guards posted at each side preventing guests from entering the private area.

A half hour later the son takes his leave too. With the arrival of his parents he is relieved from his social duties, exiting down the same hall that his sister had gone.

With his departure, Jimin works quickly to deliver his distraction. When the the bait is taken he gives his signal by offering me another drink.

I station myself close to the hall’s entrance as the minutes pass. A women at the far end of the room begins to cough and gasp as if she’s choking. Just as planned, just as programmed the units leave their post. Prioritizing the health and safety of the guest, but there's still one more I am waiting on. The heiress’s personal unit that left with her, in the seconds that pass my anxiety increases. When the android finally steps out into the ballroom I steal off behind it down the now vacant hall.

I can hear music different from the tone of the ballroom I had just left. A dreary piano melody playing from my intended destination. Clair de Lune, well if that’s the last song he wishes to listen to I can’t deny it to be a good choice, it seems that we at least agree on something.

My hand pauses on the panel as I put an ear to the door. I find it odd that there are no words exchanged between the siblings only the notes of the tune. I push open the door slowly as to not draw attention immediately. The daughter is the one playing the piano, but where is the son, where is my ideal target?

She keeps focused on the music as I draw closer. I stop once she looks up at me a grin spreads throughout her face, but nothing can prepare me for the hug that follows.

V is Seokjin’s friend so why is she having such a reaction to me? None of this makes any sense.

I quickly pull her off of me, “Sorry I was looking for your brother Jin. Is he still here?” I’m careful to use his nickname that he went by in school to maintain the act. It was one of the few things that I had managed to drag from Vincent about him.

She looks absolutely broken after hearing my words. Her mouth hangs open ever so slightly her lips trembling as she shakes her head.

“Can you tell me where he went?”

She remains silent much to my dismay, a sadness continues to fill her expression. I begin to curse her out in my mind, if she tells me I will leave, if she tells me I don’t have to fucking kill her instead...

She takes a step back knocking over the piano bench in the process.

My time is running short, that drug that Jimin had someone serve the women will soon wane.

With no other option she will have to do. “May I wait here with you until he returns?” I try my best to remain cordial as I taking a step towards her, I reach behind to find my concealed blade. Why isn’t she answering me? I notice her eyes dart over to a tablet resting on the piano stand. I thought it would display music but it looks to be half of a conversation.

...What’s wrong?...

...You should go, they might need your help...

My hand stops before I draw the dagger out into view. Why would she type out orders? Why isn’t she saying anything? Is it... is it because she can’t? This is not what I expected, she is not what her family presents her to be. She is not perfect... she is not without flaw...

...

A/N: Whew! Lots to digest in that part, if you have any questions, about the world building, or characters, feel free to send me an ask!

#jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #yandere bts #bts smut #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts reader insert #bts scifi #yandere jungkook #bts assassin au #bts maknae line x reader #bts android au #android jungkook #bts au #bts artificially inclined

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fandom-necromancer · 5 years

Text

083 ‘You look like you could use a hug’

Fandom: Detroit Become human | Ship: Reed900 [Part2]

Point eight in the morning the RK900 unit exited his charging chamber at the corner of the bullpen. With long strides he crossed the room to his desk opposite to Gavin nursing his coffee. Androids didn’t need to stay overnight since the revolution and still this plastic phcker did just that: Pretending to be a machine, although Connor had awoken him together with Markus in the Cyberlife Tower. There were bets going on whether the bot would deviate at all. Connor defended the android he had dubbed his brother and was convinced he just needed some time getting used to the virus. Gavin had another bet running simply to disagree Connor. He couldn’t forgive Hank’s pet that he had punched him unconscious in the evidence room in mere seconds.

In truth he had started to want the android breaking free. In the few months of forced partnership, the tin-can had saved his ass multiple times already. Not just physically by taking a bullet or catching him by the arm when they were climbing after a suspect. No, the android wasn’t shy of finding his way around the rules, keeping Gavin’s offences against the protocol from the official reports and taking the blame when Gavin was short on disciplinary charters. He had learned to appreciate his partner to the point where he would like to spend time with him outside working hours. But the RK900 was a machine, a program following orders and code. Gavin awaited the day the android would snap out of his programming and pull the stick out of his ass. He liked to imagine how his personality would develop with deviancy, because he was already someone who wouldn’t take everyone’s shit. A worthy opponent in the fight of pissing of every other individual in the precinct.

But he allowed his thoughts to go down this road only rarely. Their last case was a phcking nightmare. A big Red Ice ring. Nothing easy to take down. There had to be planning, stakeouts and just overall a slow pace with too much work. Gavin was working overtime and couldn’t even really relax at home. He didn’t sleep much and ate less than normal. His breakfasts mostly consisted of coffee and whatever he might find in the breakroom.

The RK900 stood in front of him, obviously scanning him without even trying to hide it. ‘And what is the result of your analysis, toaster?’, Gavin sighed and put his coffee down. ‘You look like you could use a hug.’ Gavin looked up in surprise at the less mechanical answer, but the android simply sat down on his chair. ‘What and you won’t correct that terrible situation?’ Gavin joked, but maybe it would set something off. He didn’t know how much was needed to push an android over the edge of showing emotion. ‘I am a soldier unit, Detective. I don’t seek physical contact. It would be against my programming. I just stated that you would need it.’ ‘Aww, for real? Dude, you don’t need to follow your programming anymore, okay? You can try to break out.’ ‘Why should I? I am working at perfect efficiency. It is you who needs correction.’ ‘Yeah, that’s exactly it. You work. You never live. If you broke through your programming this would change.’ ‘And why would that be better than this situation?’ ‘You could hug me?’ ‘Others can do that.’ ‘Do you honestly think any other being on this planet would do that?’ RK900 looked up from his screen, not exactly fixing him but staring into the air. His LED turned red.

‘No. My analysis suggests that there would be no one willing to get near you under one metre radius.’ ‘Hm-hm.’ Gavin would have lied if he said he wasn’t disappointed at that. Despite all that big, intimidating appearance the android was secretly a softy. Gavin knew that much from several less work related interactions with him. He had hoped this to do something to his program, but apparently, he had been wrong. So, he got back to work, ignoring the still frozen android opposite to him. The stakeout was scheduled for Wednesday, that would give him two more days to think of the best way observing their main dealer. Where would he run, when he knew he was being observed? Where should he place backup in case something went wrong? He pulled up the map of the location, running over the possible places over and over again: A café. A park. This parking-lot. Or simply the street. He had to decide.

Suddenly there were arms around him, pressing down far too tight and basically lifting him from his chair. He was momentarily unable to breath unknowing whether it was from the shock or the pressure against his ribs. Really, it was more of a death grip than anything else and Gavin couldn’t even struggle as his feet were up in the air. He just managed to quickly pat against the enclosing arms, hoping the android was getting the sign. As RK900 finally let go, Gavin nearly fell into his desk, leaning heavily onto it as he tried to get air back into his lungs. ‘Better, Gavin?’ Between pressed breaths he realised the tin-can had called him Gavin. Not ‘Detective’ or ‘Reed’. Gavin. ‘Phck!’

He managed to look around and saw that the whole bullpen, including Captain Fowler in his office, was staring at them. He let his head fall down again, as he saw Tina on her phone, most likely having filmed the whole thing. ‘Phck.’ ‘Is everything alright?’ Worry. Real fucking worry. Get your ass up, Gavin, don’t let him regret breaking free. ‘Yeah. I’m… fine.’ He was still panting. ‘Just have to catch my phcking breath.’

But there wasn’t much left to say, as Connor came swarming in, clouding the android together with most of the other colleagues congratulating RK900 on his deviation. The android seemed confused by the whole situation, throwing Gavin a helpless look. The Detective simply smirked softly where the others wouldn’t pick it up.

‘Hah, Gavin! You’ve lost the bet!’ Phck Connor’s quirky chirping, really. ‘I nearly lost my phcking life over a hug, Connor, so keep it down! Don’t you people have work to do?’ Phck the stupid bet. He won Nines his freedom and no one would be able to take that achievement away from him.

[>next part]

#detroit become human #dbh #Reed900 #Gavin Reed #RK900

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amythecinnabunny · 5 years

Text

Apartment 42 -- A BuckyNat AU

Master and rival assassins unknowingly live together for almost a year, making sure their real jobs remain a secret from each other and everyone around them.

Chapter 1

The young woman raked her eyes over the money in the briefcase and smiled. "Beautiful," she murmured.

"Well, it was a beautiful assassination."

The man across her was faceless, but she didn't find anything odd about it. She simply smiled at him. "A pleasure doing business with you."

"Likewise. I shall spread word of the Black Widow. Someone ought to require your services."

Her smile grew. "That would be wonderful."

"Although, I'd hide that pistol a little better. We wouldn't want anyone accusing you of going--" BANG!!

The sound continued three, four more times. She thought he was saying the word, but it sounded like something was pounding a fist against a door.

Again, BANG - BANG - BANG!!

She closed her eyes and when she opened them again, she was staring up at an off-white ceiling through red lines. The banging was coming from the front door. Grumbling and groaning, she rolled out of her bed and into the hallway, nearly falling into the other - empty - room.

BANG - BANG - BANG!!

"I'm coming!" she yelled as she stumbled into the adjoined kitchen, dining, and living room, tripping over a shoe as she reached out for the key on the table.

Muttering curses under her breath, she undid the latches and jammed the key into the door.

"Have you got my rent?" her landlord asked.

"Not yet," she grumbled, thinking about the money she had received in her dream.

"Then you get a new flatmate. Work out the rent between yourselves and if he decides to kick you out for not paying your share, I won't stop him. Enjoy the rest of your day."

As he turned and left, she stuck her middle finger up and twisted her expression. She quickly fixed her appearance -- as best as she could in the large sweatpants and camisole, with her hair in knots wilder than the vines outside the apartment block -- when she noticed the young man with a bag over his shoulder and gave him a smile. "Hi."

"Hi."

"Tallie," she said, sticking her left hand out for him to shake.

"James," he replied before reaching out to shake her hand.

She frowned at their clasped hands. Something about his felt off, awkward. Like it wasn't quite human. She'd shaken the hands of manual labourers before and even they had softer hands.

"It's a prosthetic," he whispered, amused.

Her eyes flew open and her jaw dropped. "Shit. I'm sorry. I didn't m--"

"It's okay. So . . . can I come in?"

She suddenly remembered what a mess she'd made of the apartment. "How about I buy you breakfast and you give me two hours to clean up?" she asked with a hopeful smile.

"If you tell me what Tallie is short for, I'll give your four hours."

She thought about it. She could do with the extra time. "Natalia," she said, "but no one ever calls me Natalia."

"Cute," he said with a grin, turning to leave. "I'll be back later with my stuff . . . Natalia."

She watched him leave, whistling a tune as he shoved his hands into his pockets. Oh, how she wished someone would pay her to kill the landlord.

Going into a spring-clean frenzy, Natalia zipped through the apartment, hiding it all. She removed the weapons from the spare room and found places to hide them in her own room. She raided the kitchen cabinets and made sure there were no traces of the chemicals she used to make poisons and their antidotes. She slipped on the tiles in the bathroom as she scrambled to make the first-aid kit look less like a disaster kit and more like your average home kit.

When the four hours were up, she was sweating and breathing heavily, but the apartment looked clean, tidy and most importantly, as if there were no assassins living in it. The ringing doorbell made her jump -- and she hated that she'd been startled by it.

Taking a deep breath and pushing the escaped strands of hair back, she opened the door. "Hi."

"Hi," James said. "Is it safe to come in now?"

"Mhm. I'd just suggest a bedsheets change before you sleep. Unless you don't mind using mine? They smell like lavender."

"Lavender," he said, nodding as he closed the door behind him, "I guess I'll tolerate it."

"Ha," she laughed nervously. "This is your key. Uh, bedrooms are down the hall, bathroom right at the end. This is the kitchen, dining room and living room. It's small but . . . livable."

Natalia didn't actually know if the apartment was livable or not. She barely spent more than three nights at a time in the apartment. More often than not, she was on stakeouts, waiting to hear for a job, or actually on a job. She hadn't received one for a while now and her dreams were beginning to manifest her raw desire for even a simple job.

No job meant no money. No money meant no rent. She was beginning to accept that she might need a day job.

"It's . . . very clean. Is -- is the toaster sparkling?"

"Well, it's May first. About damn time I did spring cleaning anyway. Uhh, why don't you get settled and I'll get to work on dinner?"

"It's four thirty."

"I can't cook very well."

James nodded. "Right. Well, I will . . . be back out in a while."

Natalia smiled as he disappeared into the hallway. Once he was gone, she allowed her terror to take hold of her features.

How the hell was she going to convince him she lived a normal life -- and that she lived in the apartment?

Damn that landlord.

///////////////

"NO! YOU'LL START A --"

James sighed helplessly as the pan caught fire and Natalia screamed.

"-- fire," he finished lamely.

"I'm done. I can't do this. I'm ordering food."

James raised his eyebrows. "Or you could let me try for once. I've been here one week and you've tried to poison me with burnt pancakes, raw chicken, expired milk, undercooked eggs, dead vegetables, and now you've somehow managed to set fire to the oil. Just . . . go watch the news or something. I'll call you in fifteen minutes."

Sighing, Natalia stalked off, angrily turning the TV on. How hard could it be to pretend to be normal? Was it supposed to be this difficult to learn how to cook? Was she supposed to be this terrible at learning?

Most importantly, how long would this charade need to go on for before she could start sneaking out again?

Surprisingly, exactly fifteen minutes later, James called her name. Switching the TV off, she got up and walked over to him. "Yeah?"

"Taste this," he said, shoving a spoon in her mouth and turning back to the pot.

She glared daggers at his back as she pulled the spoon out of her mouth, but she could not hold the glare. The soup was divine.

"It's not bad," she grumbled.

"Not had?" James asked, laughing, "it's the best thing in this whole country!"

"I doubt that," Natalia argued, leaning around James for another spoonful of the hot soup, "I mean, REO Speedwagon's Can't Fight This Feeling? Dirty Dancing? Lionel Richie's Hello? Soup is not on that list."

"You're a romantic, huh?" James asked, leaving the soup in Natalia's hands as he went to set the table.

"Am not," Natalia scoffed before taking another two spoonfuls of the soup.

"Hey, you better leave some of that for me."

"Make your own damn soup," she muttered, leaning over the pot.

"I did!"

"It's mine now."

"You are unbelievable, Natalia! Move over."

"No, I want more. It's tasty."

"You'll get more in a minute. Go get the cola I bought yesterday and put it on the table."

"But the soup--!"

Natalia blinked and stilled sharply at the look James gave her. It wasn't the stern, parent-like glares he'd been giving her everytime she screwed up at the stove. It was cold, harsh, demanding. She couldn't tear her eyes away, but she knew she had to do as he said. Who knew what would follow?

When he finally turned away, it was as if someone had lifted a concrete slab off her chest. Quickly, she walked to the fridge.

Natalia never realised it was the same look she gave the mirror on the nights when she prepared for a job.

"So," she said once they sat down at the table, "where'd you learn to cook like this?"

"Home," he responded, "my sisters loved it. Sometimes I learned new recipes to impress them."

"That's sweet. Are you the eldest?"

"Mhm. What about you? Siblings?"

Natalia shook her head. "Just me."

"Friends?"

Natalia shrugged. "Not really. I actually--"

Natalia's phone lit up. James noticed that it was a private number. He waited patiently as she answered the phone, mouthing apologies whenever she wasn't speaking.

"Yes, what time? . . . Now?! I -- okay. Where? . . . Right, I'll be there in ten."

"Work?" James asked when she put the phone down on the table and sighed.

"I'm so sorry, James. You made all this and --"

"I'll keep some in the microwave for you."

"I'm really sorry, James."

"It's all right. See you in the morning?"

"Yes. I'll be back by then," she said, getting up. He waved to her as she passed by on her way to the front door. No sooner had she gone out, did his phone ring.

He didn't even greet.

"We have a job for you. Central Park, thirty minutes."

"Yes, sir. I'll be there."

"Is that a problem for you, Soldier?"

Grabbing his jacket and his emergency bag, James left the apartment.

///////////////

"Howard Stark? You want me to take Howard Stark out?"

"Is that a problem for you, Soldier?"

"Uh, yes! The man's reportedly been considering hiring an assassin for a bodyguard! You know what assassins are like!"

"So do you. That is why this job is yours."

"But. . . fine."

The aged Russian smiled as he watched his obedient soldier shrug his dark jacket and shirt off. "It's good you accepted, Soldier."

"Not like I had a choice," James grumbled, peeling the old photostatic veil off his arm. "Sir," he added in a mocking tone.

Vasily Karpov was not a man to be trifled with and for a long time, James did fear Karpov's wrath. Once he learned of his own importance to Karpov, James developed an attitude no other would be allowed to to show to Karpov. Still, he didn't push often. As important as he was, there were gaps in his memory that made him wonder what his punishment had been. Having spent no less than a minute being as rude as he liked, James took the uniform silently and held still as the mask was fixed to his head for alterations.

"Do not disappoint, Soldier. The longer you spend around that civilian, the worse you will get at your job . . . and you know what happens to soldiers that do not perform well. Do not make me use the triggers on you."

"Yes, sir," James said firmly, accepting the new photostatic veil from Karpov.

///////////////

"I'm sorry, could you please repeat that?"

"You are assigned to Howard Stark. Am I right in assuming you do know who he is?"

"Right, but you don't want me to take him out?"

"Ms Romanova, we will give you twice your usual payment to complete this mission."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand why I've been assigned this mission. I'm an assassin. I don't look after people, I kill them."

"Howard Stark believes himself to be a target. We believe he is a target to Hydra."

"Hydra . . . they'd most likely sent the Winter Soldier after him . . . that's why you're assigning me to protect Stark, aren't you? I'm the only one who's gone up against the soldier and survived."

"You understand the severity of your mission, then, Romanova? This is no side job, no small assassination you're paid for on the black market. This is your test, your proof of your versatility. Proof that the Red Room breeds perfection, not mere killers. Do not fail us, Natalia."

Natalia shuddered. Hearing her first name fall from the lips of Vladimira Barkova -- a woman all students, Natalia included, referred to as Madame B -- always sent shivers up her spine. Madame B never meant it with warmth or care. Using a Red Room student's first name was Madame B's method of letting them know she expected nothing less than perfect.

Natalia was hesitant. How could she protect someone when she had been raised to do the opposite? Why did Madame B want to protect Howard Stark anyway? What did he have that they needed? Still, all her uncertainties meant naught.

"Will I need to be within a certain distance from him at all times?"

"Not always," Madame B said, shaking her head. "You will report to his home every morning and remain where you can see him until he returns to his home. Distance is of no consequence, though I don't see how you can protect him if you're not near enough. You will be given access and control over the security at the manor. Though his wife and son are not part of this arrangement and may come and go as they please, if their security ensures Howard Stark's security, then their security is your responsibility. If he wants to leave the manor at midnight, you will be awake and alert to escort him wherever he wishes to go. The manner with which you approach this task is up to you. But fail, and you will become a lesson."

Natalia nodded. "Understood, Madame."

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Masterpost

#apartment 42 #fanfiction #marvel #au #90s #buckynat #tony stark #peggy carter #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff

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horseyfuture · 4 years

Text

Lockdown Horrorscopes

Welcome, horrendous mortal, to your mind-rending Lockdown Horrorscopes. It has been some time since you last graced my tent with your questioning buttocks. No, do not cross my palm with silver, we use contactless now. Just press it on that bit of the window there. Excellent. Your payment has been accepted. Let us discover what the universe needs you to hear...

---

Aries: After many weeks of lockdown, you are beginning to have conversations with inanimate objects around the house. In the middle of a one-sided argument with the toaster, a small, flint-hard piece of green-tinged pitta bread joins the debate, taking the toaster’s side and calling you a “scruffy tossbag”. You may be hallucinating, though also, that pitta bread has been there QUITE A WHILE. The pitta is chewy, but stops talking after a while. A little time later the room becomes a little sloshy, like gravy in a bowl. The fruit bowl pipes up as you walk past. It calls you a wanker.

Taurus: To fend off the tedium, you decide to play a joyful round of “how many chairs can you put on a chair”, to which the answer turns out to be “six, before getting a face full of chair”. While bleeding gently onto a chair, you consider that future sources of entertainment might be more wisely centred around (say) pillows, or kittens, or candyfloss. You do not own any of these things, sadly, as you sold what you did have to get more chairs, very much failing to anticipate the sorts of items commonly found to be of use in a lockdown. Oh well. You sigh resignedly and begin to put a chair precariously on top of some other chairs.

Gemini: Having had more Skype calls with family than anybody can healthily defend, you decide to take a long, relaxing bath. Unfortunately, you are running low on soap. Also, you forgot to stock up on bubblebath last time you went to the shop. And water. Additionally, you do not own any towels. Or a bath. Or the room for a bath. A bathroom, if you will. Still, not to be held back by trifling inconveniences, you diligently strip off and scrub yourself vigorously all over, while sat naked on the kitchen floor. Eventually, the people who own the house return and a Series of Exciting Conversations follow.

Cancer: Because you are so wildly creative and unique, you decide that among your already proven range of wondrous skills, such as writing crap poetry, making crap fan art for mawkish period dramas and attaching small pieces of technical lego to a crap hat, you will blow the minds of your friends by becoming... a baker! Yes. This will mark you out as a trend setter. You carefully go to the shop, observing social distancing except when you aren’t which is always and buy ALLLLL the ingredients for bread making. Literally all of them. So nobody else can make bread. Returning home, you valiantly point your wild intellect at the problem and, with a little help from a BBC recipe guide: YOU MAKE BREAD. It is crap.

Leo: You receive an unexpected parcel. The parcel contains mostly lizards. As well as the lizards, there is a bright red jewel which sparkles enticingly. You discover that the jewel allows you to control the lizards. And also, to see through their eyes. You, furthermore, hear their lizardy thoughts, although to be fair, their minds are fairly quiet and their thoughts are mostly “Woohaar! I’m a lizard!” With your newfound powers, you decide you will finally be freed from your virus-laden lockdown. No longer will you be caged by a mere four walls. You send your lizard army forth to bring you new sights, sounds and experiences. Unfortunately, almost everything is shut and the outside world is pretty dull. After a bit, one of the lizards politely asks if they might have their minds back, to which you accede. They agree to pop round on Thursdays. They’re good lizards.

Virgo: The Gods smile upon you today. The Gods wink at you, also. The Gods send you a direct message asking you how you’re doing today and mention that you’re looking great in that recent profile photo. The Gods say they’re doing alright, you know, but feeling kinda lonely since Karen left, so hey, did you ever get back together with Steve? No? That’s a real shame, you were a sweet couple. The Gods ask if that means you’re still single, then? You are? Oh, baby, there ain’t no justice. What you need’s a real man. You sure do. You deserve one. Or maybe even better. The Gods wonder if you’ve ever made it with a deity. The Gods wonder how come you went so quiet. The Gods say aw, come on, don’t be like that. The Gods themselves go quiet for a while. The Gods send you unsolicited photographs of their genitalia. You block the Gods.

Libra: As you open your kitchen cupboard, a wizard appears before you and tells you that of the two remaining cans of soup, one of them contains not just soup but truly endless riches: the meaning of the universe and an infinite lifespan granted to the opener, with which to explore and enjoy the myriad beauties to be found in a boundless cosmos. In the other can: SUFFERING. Problematically, though, one of the cans is tomato soup from a fairly reputable brand and the other is leek and celeriac, which your weird aunt sent you about four years ago and seems to have been manufactured by ancient Welsh hippies. You go to open the tomato and the wizard winces and whistles through his teeth. You reach toward the leek and celeriac. The wizard smiles and waggles his eyebrows. Bugger this, you open the tomato, the wizard disappears and your arse immediately falls off. You have no regrets and the soup’s pretty good.

Scorpio: You are the twat that took all the toilet roll. Helpful. Aren’t you a good little pandemic pixie? Getting up at shithead o’clock in the morning and nicking all the stuff that your neighbours might have wanted. They suspect you. They saw you carrying your many, many bags past their windows and into your flat. But what they don’t know is that you’re not using it the way they imagine. You haven’t done a poo in over five weeks now. Not since you superglued your bum together. They’d think you were crazy, but you had to. To save the toilet roll for Greater Things. The pains come again, as your tummy heaves and you try to poop through a blocked up bum, but you breathe deeply and in time this passes. Now you are free to return to your great work. Your 20ft high pornographic sculpture of the Queen, made entirely from papier mache. Your Majesty looks down on you in erotic approval.

Sagittarius: Carnival tiiiiime! It’s carnival time! CARNIVAL TIME! Oh boy, oh boy, you can’t wait! You LOVE carnival time! You’ve been waiting so long, and they said you weren’t going to have carnival time because of the virus, but you weren’t gonna miss out! CARNIVAL TIIIME! There’s a strange knocking sound. That’s not usually part of carnival time. You follow the sound to the door, which you open gingerly. Who? Ah. OK. Right you are. I see. Yup. Yup. I will. No, you’re right. I’ll do that. I will. I’ll put it back. I thought you wouldn’t mind. It’s not a real one, it’s just a, no, OK, I’ll get rid of it. And the fish. I got it online. I’ll look after. OK, no, I understand. I know. I will. I’ll wipe it off. Yep. I will. Right away. Sorry. OK. Bye mom. So. Uhhh. Yep. Yeeeep yep. It is definitely not carnival time.

Capricorn: You begin to suspect that there is something going on with your neighbours next door. There are animal sounds late at night and you’re certain they have no pets. Sometimes you hear a tapping, it seems rhythmical. Almost like Morse code. How you wish you’d remembered the symbols they taught you for that when you were at school. One morning, you wake up and sit bolt upright as the sounds of a plaintive, strangled scream are quickly drowned out by a guttural groan of ecstasy, as if something huge and ancient had been satisfied in a way that only demons would commend. Sullen red illumination fades from the windows and all becomes silent once more. You resolve to ask the vicar if he’d consider wearing headphones on his Zoom calls in future.

Aquarius: You decide that you will spend the week not wearing a bra. Why not? Why shouldn’t you at least enjoy some of the more free and easy aspects of long term self-isolation. After the week, though, you sort of miss the bra, so you start wearing it again for a few days. Yeah, actually, this is kind of better. And if this is better, how good would two bras be? You try it out. Feels amazing. Why didn’t you try this before? How could you not have realised that the problem wasn’t tight bras or ill-fitting bras, or always having to wear a bra, the problem was: Not ENOUGH bras. You immediately add a third bra. Holy crap, this is the life. Five or six bras in, you’re starting to slow down a bit, not least because of the underwiring, but you feel incredible, and the SUPPORT is off the chart! The door bell rings. You clatter to answer it, now a somewhat difficult proposition given all the bras. Delivery guy leaves a large parcel on the floor to maintain social distancing, which makes picking it up a little tricky. Again. All the bras. You hobble inside and manage to pop open the parcel. Ah yes. More bras. Perfect.

Pisces: Day 37. You miss your partner. It’s been weeks now and while the occasional saucy video call has kept some semblance of intimacy together, you have needs and an itch you cannot truly scratch. Your hamster runs noisily in its catch, the wheel squeaking. The hamster gets more exercise than you these days. If only you hadn’t sold that treadmill. You feel a kinship to the hamster, tinged with guilt. Now you yourself are confined in your house, you feel bad for locking up little Hammy. In fact, you decide to let Hammy out. You share a strange kinship with Hammy now, fellow prisoners in life’s lonely cage. So lonely. Just you and Hammy. All alone. Nobody else around. Poor little Hammy. All alone, just like you. Day 38. You look at Hammy. Hammy looks at you. Tired, but loving, Hammy’s eyes seem to say a lot of things to you and you feel a different kind of guilt now, looking into them, albeit mixed with gratitude. You put an extra helping of food in the cage, fill up the water bottle and think about where you find yourself in these strange times. You glance back up at the cage and think. “They’re going to make me marry that hamster”.

---

YES! The vision is complete. The skies briefly whirl, the oceans dance then subside and the stars cease their jagged oscillations abruptly and settle down with some snacks to watch Netflix. You have heard the universe’s dark narrative and your brain structures are indelibly marked with what must come. Now go. And tell nobody you visited me today. The police regretfully do not consider this to be classed as an essential journey.

#lockdown #horrorscopes #horrorscope #virus #covid

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luxexhomines · 6 years

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Can I request Kokichi with his (S/O) who has the Hanahaki Disease? you can choose how it could end, with a good ending, or a bad ending, the power is yours owo

I have to say, anon, your ask made me laugh a lot when I saw it. It sounds so dramatic, aha! “The power is yours…..” and then with an owo. Anyways, here it is! I feel like it could have gone many different ways, but this is what I ended up with. I think it’s a little too long, though…and probably could have used more angst… Ah, well, maybe next time I’ll try writing the other ending if I feel so inclined to try or have some spurt of inspiration.

Kokichi Ouma x Reader with Hanahaki Disease

“Hey, Kokichi?”

You called out to the boy, who was walking in front of you in the empty hallway. He stopped and turned to face you.

“Hm? What is it?”

His face was relatively devoid of expression, especially in comparison to the usual dramatic faces he’d make. Your eyes took in the sight of him–his dark hair that twirled upward, his purple eyes, his slim frame.

“Ah–it’s nothing, sorry.”

His face twisted into an expression of amusement, and then he laughed, placing his hands behind his head casually.

“Yeah, how dare you waste the Ultimate Supreme Leader’s time with nothing! You have to make it up to me by hanging out with me tomorrow, okay?”

And with that, he skipped away without waiting for an answer. You supposed he knew you wouldn’t refuse–or rather, couldn’t refuse.

You loved him, after all. Although you weren’t sure whether he knew or not, he was astute and you figured he probably knew and just didn’t want to do anything about it.

You strolled down the hallway after him and out of the school, on your way home. That was when you felt an itch or discomfort of sorts in your chest, and you coughed. It wouldn’t go away, so you coughed and hacked some more, and then you felt something come into your mouth. It felt solid, so you spit out whatever it was into your hand, only for your eyes to meet a bright yellow flower petal–and a single drop of blood tinged its edge ominously.

You threw it away and watched it flutter to the ground gently as if it were just another petal shed by the spring rather than evidence of something terribly, terribly wrong within you. It was nothing, you were sure. You shouldn’t think too much of it, you told yourself, and you marched on home defiantly.

You tapped your foot impatiently. You’d been waiting here at the mall for at least ten minutes now, and it was originally Kokichi’s idea to hang out, too. He had sent you the pinned location and time, along with a mildly threatening message compelling you to come. You had felt a strange, twisting sensation in your gut and an aching feeling in your chest before you left–as if telling you not to leave, but you brushed off the ominous premonition of danger or foreboding, reminding yourself that you had no choice but to come whether you wanted to or not.

An hour passed with neither sign nor notice from the very person who had invited you. Your heart sank. Was this just another prank of his? But even for the mischievous prankster who seemed to, to some extent, embody schadenfreude (the enjoyment of the suffering of others), this seemed much too cruel. You had been sitting on the bench, refreshing your texts hopelessly, even though you knew there was a low chance of him saying anything now. Dejected, you leaned back–but then you felt that odd discomfort living in your chest again, and hunched forward, coughing.

You hacked for some time before feeling something solid in your mouth again, and you spit it out ungracefully, only for more yellow petals to be revealed, and they fell limply to the floor, slightly damp and the edges tinged with a red substance–what that substance was, you didn’t care to figure out.

You stood to leave and then spotted a silhouette in the distance coming closer and closer. It was Kokichi, and he was running toward you for once, rather than away after playing a prank.

He waves, out of breath, and has to take a moment to catch his breath before speaking. You cross your arms across your chest.

“This had better be good, Kokichi,” you warned, but you felt your voice tremble slightly.

He straightens up and brushes the wrinkles out of his clothes.

“Sorry,” he apologizes in what seems to be a rather genuine manner. “I didn’t do it on purpose–not this time, at least,” he adds on after receiving a dubious look from you.

You sigh.

“It’s fine… Can you tell me ahead of time next time? Or just let me know how much longer you’ll be?”

He scratches his cheek sheepishly, looking cowed for once.

“I forgot to bring my phone… But yeah, I will next time. If I have my phone, that is. Do you still want to hang out?”

You feel a little voice inside you screaming at you to say yes, that you didn’t wait this long for him only to go home!

But you stamped it out mercilessly.

“I’m not feeling too well,” you admit, and as if on cue, you start coughing again.

Even though you weren’t one to worry about physical symptoms too much, the persistence of this was grating on your nerves and you were beginning to feel anxious. You didn’t put much stock in rumors, either, but who hadn’t heard of the Hanahaki disease? It was easy to brush it off the first two times it had happened, but a third time seemed to solidify your suspicions of the petals being something more than mere coincidence.

You can’t stop coughing, and again, yellow petals escape your parted lips before you can put a hand over your mouth and hide them.

“What’s that? Flower petals?” he asks, and he bends down to retrieve one of the fatal pieces of evidence; evidence of your love, your affection for none other than him.

You try to snatch it from those conniving fingertips, but he draws his hand back, out of your reach.

“Don’t touch that,” you rasp. “It’s dirty.”

But you’re ultimately unable to stop him as he lifts the damning petal upward so it catches the eye of the sun, and with it, the crimson-brown stains around its circumference are more than clear. You watch his face carefully, holding your breath. You didn’t know what he thought and hoped he wouldn’t see the truth you suspected.

His purple eyes gleam, and he faces you once again with a playful attitude.

“Oho? Do you happen to like someone?” he teases. “The pursuit of their affections isn’t going so well, is it?”

Your lips tighten into a straight, thin line, and you shake your head stiffly. To think you had thought for a moment that he might be sensitive to your impending crisis, that perhaps he might just realize it was him and reciprocate your love-

“So what? What’s it to you?” you interject hoarsely. “It’s none of your business, Kokichi. You’re always butting in whenever you please, and then you disappear when I’m looking for you. You have no right to talk to me about something like this.”

His expression changes so quickly, you almost miss it–for a moment, you thought he looked bitter–but he just has a cocky, self-serving smirk in place and his eyes are darkly shining, like the ore of a rock.

“That’s just the way I am, right? Can’t expect more than that from a guy like me.”

Frustration and anger burst from you in the form of speech, even if language could never express the intensity of the outrage you felt upon hearing such words from him.

“Don’t say that! You were supposed to refute me. I’m the only one allowed to say something like that to you!” you shout at him and spinning on your heel, you make your exit, turbid emotions still bubbling inside you and clawing to be let out.

The journey home is a space of time you don’t remember in the least. What you do remember after getting home is slamming the door to your room after you, leaning against it and then bending forward and coughing uncontrollably, wheezing for air with each bout of air you expelled from your lungs in addition to a cascade of ironically bright yellow petals that seemed to have flourished inside your body before leaving your lips like fluttering snow from clouds, coated in slick, red blood.

You don’t bother responding to his texts of concern or his provocative statements in an effort to just get some kind of answer from you, and roll over on your side in your bed so you face the wall, shutting your mind and heart to the world outside, longing to escape the turmoil shaking you from the core.

You wake to sunlight trickling in and running onto your closed eyes, so you open them blearily.

Almost immediately upon regaining consciousness, you feel that familiar pain in your chest, and you sit up, allowing a couple coughs to escape you, along with a few yellow petals.

All you could think was that you had to wrench yourself out of bed, had to get up and engage in your usual morning routine. So you did.

You coughed all the way from your room to the kitchen, where you wanted to make yourself something to eat. Or, at least, maybe put a piece of bread in the toaster. But even that proved to be too difficult, and your knees collapsed beneath you as you fell into another fit of coughing.

The golden petals seemed to be mocking you with their beauty, as jewels from tears must have in the fairytale of the girl who cried pearls and precious gems. You knew somewhere in your hazy state of mind that it hadn’t always been like this, that in fact, you had only been suffering from this affliction for less than two days–but somehow you couldn’t seem to remember a day you had lived without this hurt in your chest, and you clung to the kitchen counter from your position on the floor weakly.

Then you heard the door burst open, and footsteps neared you. You closed your eyes. This situation would be very difficult to explain.

“Hey, are you okay?!”

It was him, and by the sound of his voice, he was sincerely worried.

You try to respond, but all that comes out is some heavy breathing and more coughing, accompanied by the signature petals of gold. You lift your head to look at him and shrug helplessly. It’s then that you become aware, also, of the way your entire being is shivering.

“I knew something was up,” he bites his thumb in irritation. “You should have just told me! Am I so hard to rely on?”

But before you can reply, he answers his question for himself.

“Of course I am,” he mutters spitefully.

You open your mouth to object, once again, to the derogatory way he talks about himself, but little comes out.

“N-No,” you cough.

His eyes widen.

“Did you say ‘no’? So you can talk, after all. Just barely.”

You nod to affirm his conclusion, and he sighs in relief.

“So that’ll make this a little easier, then.”

He looks you straight in the eye, unblinking and as open and honest as you’ve ever seen him.

“Who do you like?”

You immediately avert your eyes.

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” you mumble. “If it’s unrequited, it’s unrequited. Nothing I can do about it.”

He grits his teeth in frustration.

“We don’t have a lot of time, smartass! Either you tell me who it is and we do a last-ditch effort at getting them to like you, or we go to the hospital and get these petals removed, even if it means you can’t love again because god forbid I let you die on the floor of your kitchen while I’m here!”

You take a wary look at his face.

“You’re going to regret having asked,” you say dryly.

“Try me,” he retorts. “I might be disgusted by your choices, but if we can get them to like you and fix you up, I’m not going to regret it.”

You laugh, even though to him, it must not seem funny at all. But the laughing only spurs another attack of coughing, and he rubs your back in an effort to calm you. When you stop, he grabs your face with both hands.

“Okay, spit it out already!”

You smile, the corners of your lips tugging upward. You never wanted to confess like this, maybe had thought you never wanted to confess at all, but-

“It’s you, Kokichi.”

He’s completely caught by surprise, and his mouth falls open like an idiot–like a certain someone he liked to make fun of all the time. He catches himself, though, and quickly enough, his face shows resentment.

“Ha-ha, very funny. You’re literally about to die, and you’re still making jokes of bad taste?” he scoffs. “If I weren’t this nice, I would have thrown you under the bus and left you to die already.”

You shake your head gravely, and suddenly Kokichi realizes that there’s not a hint of humor on your face. Nothing of the kind that he was used to, at least.

“Wait. You’re serious,” he deadpans, and he searches your features for further confirmation.

You simply nod, and he finally sees the yearning in your eyes, the way you looked at him with affection, perhaps slightly exhausted, but persistent, and the pain that had expressed itself as coughing and brilliant yellow flower petals previously. He had gotten so used to looking for the lies in other people that he had failed to realize when the truth had finally presented itself before him.

He doesn’t know how to feel at first. His mind is running in circles, chasing his heart frantically, trying to catch up. He’s never known what the two of you were–friends? Good acquaintances? Something more?

But now that he’s re-evaluating the relationship the two of you share, he finds that there was a whole lot of affection for you in his pestering and pranks, a great love in the way he would incline you to spend time with him, and so much more in his actions and words that he had never knew held hints of liking you.

You smile in sour amusement.

“I told you you’d regret-”

But you were promptly interrupted by a less than graceful kiss smack dab on your lips, forceful and yet unimaginably brief.

“Don’t make assumptions on your own!” he scolds. He can’t tell if he’s angrier at you for not telling him sooner and clearing up the confusion for him or if he’s angrier at himself for not figuring it out sooner and keeping you from all this unnecessary pain.

Your eyebrows furrow. What were you registering right now? Something seemed to have met your mouth, but it couldn’t possibly have been what you thought, right?

Right?

“Geez,” Kokichi complains as he pulls you to your feet relatively effortlessly for a person of his stature. “You should’ve just told me earlier! Then you wouldn’t have gotten sick and there wouldn’t have been all this extra drama.”

You stumble as you stand like you do over your words.

“Wait… That means…”

He practically screams it in your ear.

“Yes! I like you, you dimwit!” He kisses your cheek, softly this time. “I don’t know how you didn’t figure it out after I kissed you and basically said I didn’t regret hearing that you liked me.”

He rolls his eyes, and you have to laugh at his melodrama. Typical Kokichi.

This time, no coughing ensued, and you leaned in, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose playfully.

“I love you, Kokichi.”

You can’t tell if it’s your willful imagination or not, but his cheeks seem to become slightly pinker, and he plants his hands on his hips.

“You think I can’t tell after you physically got lovesick over me and confessed to my face?” he snarks back, and you bite back laughter at his childish stubbornness.

Nothing in the world was more attractive to you than Kokichi at that moment–and you suspected for lifetimes to come.

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