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snippychicke · 1 year

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For the Sake of a Smile (v.2) Chapter Nine

Title: For the Sake of a Smile (Revised)

Overall Rating: Mature (18+)

Chapter Rating: T for teen.

Trigger warnings: Nothing beyond the child abuse hinted in the series, though we do explore the consequences a bit more.

Main Pairing: Balam Shichiro/Reader

Summary: Hell on earth was your motto for your job. Granted, you were pretty sure earth really was hell, considering the shit you had seen in your life. And the fact your coworker was a child.

A child named Suzuki Iruma, in fact. A kid who’s life was decidedly worse than yours, but yet he smiled despite everything. It wasn’t long after meeting him that you decided you’d do a lot for his smile. Including summoning a literal demon and signing your soul away.

But as it turns out, hell (The Netherworld, actually) was a lot better than living on earth. Demons were more humane than a lot of humans you knew.

And Iruma’s smile wasn’t the only one that would change your life.

Masterlist | Ao3| Mairimashitai! Simps Discord

The rest of the final day had been an insane whirlwind, making you bite your nails as you kept an eye on Iruma as well as the rest of the Misfit teams. It had been a stressful race to the deadline, and you had feared that despite all of it, Iruma and Lied hadn't won.

Only for Jazz to protest, sealing their victory.

When you saw Iruma, you automatically broke out into a run. The boy barely had time to prepare before you snatched him up in a crushing hug.

"Mom!" He squeaked as you squeezed him tightly, causing you to reluctantly release him.

"I'm sorry, I'm just so excited for you!" You explained as you took a step back. And while you were excited for him, that was only partially the reason for the urge to fuss over him.

You didn't want to explain how terrified you had been, or how you still had those dark feelings of being a failed parent. They were pushed deep away in the corner of your mind, but still hung around like a dark shadow.

His beaming smile eased some of the anxiety before Iruma closed the distance between you to give you a bearhug. You quickly reciprocated the hug, and went as far as to press a kiss to his messy blue hair. "I'm so proud of you, kiddo. So very, very proud."

"Thank you," He answered quietly, face still pressed tight against your shoulder. "Thank you so much for being my mom."

Your heart squeezed in your chest as tight as you squeezed him, words failing you. How do you even respond to that, especially in public? You wanted to cry, to tell him how honored you were, how much you loved him. How much it meant to you to hear him say that.

"Hey, I helped too, Ms. Suzuki!" Lied chimed in with a teasing tone.

You pulled away from Iruma once again, covering Iruma as he rubbed his eyes while you focused on the blonde demon. "You're right, you did!" You grinned before pulling him in for a hug as well. "I'm proud of you too! Both of you did an amazing job!"

Lied's face was a bright red, though you didn't miss the almost-bashful smile on his face after he pulled away. "Of course we did! Lil' bro and I make the best team."

"Oh? Lil' bro?" That was news to you, and you were about to playfully grill the two about it before Clara seemed to appear out of nowhere, wrapping her arms around your shoulders as she pounced on your back.

"Iru-mama!"

Soon the whole Misfit class was swarming both the 'young kings' of the Harvest Festival as well as yourself.

You couldn't help but compliment all of them on their strategies and attempts to win the festival, earning varied flustered but glowing smiles at your praise. They all did their best, and you could easily see how much they had grown stronger underneath the special tutelage given to them.

And while Iruma would always hold a special part of your heart, you were filled with that maternal pride for all of them. You didn't care what others may think, but the Misfit class certainly stood above the rest of the students in their year, and you couldn't wait to see what they accomplished next.

--+--

The end of the Harvest festival was celebrated with a large banquet. The dining hall of the first year tower filled with students, faculty, and of course - food. Everyone was enjoying the break, the excuse to let loose and have fun.

Except you.

Within minutes of arriving, you realized Momonoki and Rami were hunting you for the infamous ‘girl talk’. You had barely escaped them the first time, and felt like a mouse being hunted by two starving cats.

Yes, you had vowed to set the record straight, but that was before everything became a wild mess. You were in no state to confront those two.

So, despite your reservations, you searched out Balam in the crowd, knowing he would help you without question - hopefully, at least - because you really didn't want to explain to him why you were so determined not to talk to the two tonight.

As it turned out, Kalego was standing close to Balam and apparently using him to ward off others as well. A small part of you balked, worried how the other teacher would react to your situation, but you had no other alternative.

"Please, hide me!" You begged as you approached, glancing left and right for a hint of pale blue or deep violet.

"What?" Kalgeo answered for Balam, though the taller demon seemed just as confused by your desperate plea.

But there was no time to explain. Not when you caught sight of Momonoki's signature ponytail next to Raim's horns. Without hesitating, you ducked between the two male demons and hid between them and the wall.

"Speak of the devils," Raim's voice carried as she approached, and you could only press closer to Balam - hoping you were out of sight. "Have you two seen our little librarian running around here?"

"We haven't," Kalego answered as he stepped closer to Balam, surprising you. You hadn't been expecting him to cover for you so easily. "She likely went home, seeing how the Chairdemon and Opera are absent."

"Hmmm, maybe," Momonoki replied after a moment, sounding somewhat convinced. "She doesn't socialize much - well, at least the rest of the faculty. You're pretty chummy with her, aren't you, Balam?"

Your blood ran cold at the insinuating tone in her voice. Oh god. No, no, no.

"I suppose," Balam answered. "We do share an interest in imaginary creatures. She actually has some interesting thoughts! From what she had studied, she believes that the human realm's avians are related to ancient dragons called 'dine sars'. Which, considering the close relationship between the Netherworld dragons and bird-types, I…"

"I think I hear my students calling me," Raim interrupted, sounding rather frantic. "Come on, Momonoki!"

You waited until you could feel Balam relax before peeking your head around his side carefully. His hand rested on your hair, ruffling it reassuringly as you looked up at him.

"And they call me antisocial," Kalego sighed, sipping at his glass. "At least I don't actively hide from my peers."

"Any other time, I would argue that," You shot back; wanting to defend your actions but at the same time, not wanting to mention The Rumor to them if at all possible. "But… I never had female friends before. They kinda scare me."

That wasn't quite the truth, but they both seemed to accept it.

"They can both be intense at times," Kalego acknowledged. "Of course that never seemed to stop you befo--"

His words were cut off by a sudden flash of light as he disappeared, and across the hall there was a loud cheer of 'Eggy-Sensei!' by many students.

"Oh dear," Balam sighed. "I guess Iruma must have Summoned him."

You could only imagine how upset Kalego was, or wonder what could convince Iruma to summon his familiar. But, those thoughts were quickly pushed aside with the more pressing matter that you were once again alone with Balam.

Okay, so the hall was packed with students and teachers alike, but none particularly close by. Before, it would have never bothered you. Hell, you would have preferred it; though you didn't mind Kalego's company either.

Yet with The Rumor repeating itself in the back of your mind like a broken record, it made you especially nervous. Was everyone noticing you two standing together, and that once again Balam's hand was in your hair as you remained overly close to him? Were they gossiping and whispering about the relationship between you?

"Were you able to see the Legendary Leaf?" He asked, dragging you out of your thoughts.

"Er, not before it transformed," You answered. "I heard it looked like a Salamander flower with an even dopier expression on its face."

Balam pulled his phone out, and from your vantage point you could see the gallery of saved images: many cute looking animals surrounded by the forest.

You probably should have stepped away from him - put more space between you - yet it was too hard. Not when he was happily going over the different animals in the pictures, like the Patched Cows with a calf, or a whole nest of Snuggling Squirrels.

Then near the end was a long series of what you presumed was the Legendary Leaf; a black, very dopey looking… thing. You really didn't know how else to describe the chubby creature at the end of a long, thin stem; Its eyes almost cartoonishly out of focus.

"No one has seen the Legendary Leaf since it was created," Balam explained as you studied the picture. "Lord Derkila left the Seed of Beginning and the Pot of Ending with the school for the Harvest Festival shortly before his disappearance with strict instructions on how it was to be hidden. In the decades that have followed, no one has been able to cause the Legendary Leaf to bloom - or even find the two objects."

It only made you even prouder of Iruma - which you hadn't thought was possible.

Speaking of which, he flipped to the next picture and froze. It was a shot of you hugging Iruma and Lied, sakura petals drifting in the air around you.

"I, uh, well," He started, face turning pink again when you looked up at him.

"I love it, could you send that to me?" You reassured, though felt your own face heating up as well, the tempo of your heart increasing its pace.

Once again, The Rumor whispered in your ear. But…would it be so bad, being in a relationship with Balam?

No, you would love to have a more intimate relationship with him. More than anything, you wished that was possible.

It was your rational mind that reminded you that you were separate species and that he was well aware of that fact; any possible signs of his attraction could be explained away as an enthusiast studying and learning more of their passion. His skinship habit meant any physical touches could have an entirely platonic meaning.

You were reading way too much into this - The Rumor and your own feelings affecting your perspective.

You didn't want to ruin the friendship that had developed between you. Plus the fact you hadn't realized how touch-starved you had been until now, and the thought of being devoid of his friendly touches made your heart ache. Even if they were platonic with no other motive, you loved being able to be so easily physically affectionate.

You were going to kill Sullivan and Opera when you got home for ruining this.

"O-of course! I'd be happy to." He quickly busied himself with sending the image, and you took the opportunity to take a step away - putting space between you and him as you scanned the crowd for lingering eyes.

Who else had heard? Who else was presuming you were in a relationship with Balam?

Did they frown upon it, as Momonoki implied they would? Or did they silently encourage it?

And really, what did your fake backstory matter to them? Did the Netherworld really not have single mothers, or did they not look for a second significant other after their first? It seemed odd, considering how their other social aspects seemed more progressive. But they were also very hierarchical.

Was that an issue? The fact you were 'unranked' and he was rank eight--Khet, if you remembered correctly. Was that the equivalent of a pauper and a lord forging a relationship?

Not that it would ever happen….

Your phone beeped startling you out of your thoughts to the point you actually jumped a bit.

"Are you alright?" Balam asked when you fumbled with your phone, saving the picture he had sent you. "I can understand not wanting to be roped into a conversation with Momonoki and Raim, but… you seem very on edge."

"It's nothing!" You quickly defended, sidestepping to avoid his hand as he reached out to reassure you. The expression on his face - or at least what you could see - about broke you, but… you couldn't give The Rumor more fuel than you already had. "Its-its nothing. I'm just, uh, worn out after everything. Could you tell Iruma I'll see him when he gets home if he happens to ask?"

Without waiting for an answer, you rushed towards the exit. You hated this, hated the confusing mess of thoughts and feelings rattling around in your head. Hated the fact it could irreparably damage your relationship with Balam.

You were going to kill Sullivan and Opera.

-+-

Balam watched you leave, the Buzzer ability ringing in his ears.

There was definitely something wrong, he could tell that even without his bloodline ability. Was it just nerves left over from the Harvest Festival? Or was something else going on?

Whatever it was, he hoped it passed soon, and things went back to normal. He wouldn't be so preoccupied with tutoring Asmodeus and Sabnock, so he was eager to spend more time with you…

Granted, with the fall molt approaching, maybe that wasn't such a wise idea…

--+--

The doors slammed open with a thunderous boom when you reached home. "Sullivan!" You yelled. "Opera!"

Both froze, mid-decorating the entrance hall for Iruma. "Yes, princess?" Sullivan answered warily, taking in your enraged expression.

"What the actual fuck?!" You swore, slamming your overnight bag down--things you had needed in the forest. "Why?! Why would you do that?"

"Well, mainly it was just to give you and Balam a little nudge," Sullivan replied meekly, eyes downcast as his hands knitted together in embarrassment.

Yet despite his reaction your fury barely calmed. "A nudge?! Why? We-we're just friends. There is nothing between us!" You gestured wildly as you paced the hallway, the anxiety and frustration bubbling and demanding release. "Yet now I'm sure half the school thinks otherwise! You do realize that Raim and Momonoki both love to gossip, right? Hell, I'm new here and I already know that!"

While Sullivan was chastened by your anger, Opera - as always - barely seemed fazed. "You both are obviously fond of each other. More than allies usually are. You both just need to realize and admit it."

"I may be fond of him, but we all know Balam. He isn't going to be interested in me like that. He's fully aware that I'm human! He's never going to see me as anything more than a source of knowledge for the earthly realm. Some weak but priceless creature to fuss over and protect." By the end of your tirade, you had worked yourself into a rather hysterical panic; all the stress, fears, and anxieties pouring out. Tears stung your eyes, your heart pounding.

It both helped as well as pushed you closer to crying as Sullivan quickly gathered you into his arms, pulling you into a tight hug. "Oh, sweetheart, you don't actually think that, do you?"

"Yes! No - I don't know!" You answered, burying your face in the fluff of his collar. "I can't get my hopes up, or even take that risk. Everything is perfect as it is, I shouldn't want more."

"My sweet dear girl, that goes against everything a demon is," Sullivan said as he stroked your hair tenderly. "We constantly strive after our ambitions, and never settle for anything less. Look at Iruma, striving to be the best he can be. Don't let the fear of failing stop you from chasing what you desire."

You stayed silent as you clung to him, seeking that paternal reassurance while also mulling over his words. Ambition? As much as you loved the fact Iruma was able to adapt so well to the Netherworld, you found it so much harder to leave behind the lessons you had learned on Earth. Especially the lesson that you should be content with what you had, else your selfishness will cause you to lose it all.

How many times did you see others take risks and gamble because they wanted more, only to lose everything -- sometimes even their own life.

And you had more than you could ever dream of. How could you dare to risk this?

The door opened, causing you to pull away from Sullivan. Iruma looked confused by the half-decorated hall, and then you looked as if you were minutes from crying your eyes out.

"Mom?" He asked, and you quickly wiped your eyes and offered a smile.

"Hey, welcome home!" You opened your arms widely, as if you felt far happier than you actually did. "Heh, I, um, interrupted gramps and Opera from finishing their decorations. Sorry about that…."

Opera popped a confetti popper, trying to break the mood. Instead, tears gathered in Iruma's bright blue eyes and before you knew it, you and Sullivan were both pulled into a hug, his hand waving towards Opera to join in. Which, they did, with a very feline-like sigh - though their ears betrayed their happiness to be included.

"I'm happy to be home," He confessed, relieving your worries that your own tears had upset him."I-I'm just so happy to be home."

"We're happy you're home as well," Sullivan said softly, pulling everyone closer.

This. This was why you couldn’t take the risk. You had everything you needed right here.

--+--

Hours later, you retired to your room; happy to flop back on the plush bed, surrounded with the soft silence of home instead of the forest nightlife just outside the tent walls, faculty talking near constantly in the background.

Knowing that just down the hall, Iruma was safe and sound. Sullivan was close by, as was Opera. Everyone that had become like family.

Your peaceful rest was interrupted by a soft knock at the door before it cracked open. You looked up as Iruma poke his head. "Hey, um, can I come in?"

You quickly sat up. "Yeah, of course," You answered easily enough, though you couldn't help but worry. "Is something wrong?"

Iruma worried his lip as he walked over and sat on the edge of the extra large bed. "That's actually what I wanted to ask."

You tilted your head, keeping silent to encourage him to continue. He fiddled with his hands a little bit before taking a deep breath. "I noticed that tonight, both at the celebration and at dinner you've been… preoccupied. And it made me realize I've been so caught up with my friends and everything, that we don't talk like we used to. I miss that. And…" He trailed off, looking down at his lap. "And I worry that we're not as close as we used to be."

"Oh, honey," You sighed before scooting closer to him to pull him into a hug, resting your head on his. "It's nothing like that. I'm so happy you have friends now; that you're able to just be a kid and not forced into being an adult. As for what's been bugging me, it's nothing for you to worry about, okay?"

He leaned into your embrace. "But you used to tell me things that bothered you before; from coworkers, our boss, even just random things."

You smiled softly at that, twinging your fingers with his. Both sets bore scars from working in the factory, gutting fish all day. More than once, both of you nicked your fingers with the knives; from shallow cuts to deep ones.

His hands weren't shaped like yours, yet they looked a lot alike in that sense. A bond borne not of blood, but circumstances. Yet it ran deeper than you could even imagine.

"Remember when Boss wanted you to move to another station with that idiot? I can't remember his name now, but I do remember he couldn't tell Tuna from Carp. And I knew it was 'cause Boss wanted you to pick up his slack and do twice the duty."

Iruma chuckled a bit. "They could hear you outside the office, swearing up a storm worse than the sailors when they came in. Everyone was whispering about you being a mother hen again."

"Damn right I was being a mother hen!" You pulled back so you could smile down at him. "I wasn't about to let them misuse you any more than they already did. At least when you were with me, I could keep an eye on you! You go out on the ship one time, and here we are, in the literal Netherworld with our souls sold to a demon. But you know what?"

"What?"

You pressed a kiss to his forehead before smoothing down his unruly blue hair. "I wouldn't change one thing. You are the best thing that's ever happened in my life, and I will always be grateful for that."

Tears filled his eyes again, and he quickly threw his arms around you. You pulled him tight, rocking him lightly. "We may not be bound by blood, Iruma dear. But ever since day one, I think I’ve known deep down you were meant to be my son. It just took a deal with the devil to make it happen."

He snorted at that. "Grandpa is hardly the devil."

You sighed, smiled fading lightly. With Sullivan apparently happy to propagate The Rumor, you were beginning to wonder. Still, both he and Opera seemed to have good intentions.

The saying went 'the road to hell was paved with good intentions', though you weren't quite sure how that proverb stood when you were already in hell.

Because of your own good intentions.

Iruma sensed your thoughts wandering and pulled away. "...are you sure you won't tell me what's bothering you?” He asked softly, bringing your attention back to him.

Oh no.

He had his puppy's eyes in effect. His already large blue eyes somehow wider and more innocent - looking on the verge of hurt - and looking towards you for help. You tried to close your eyes, but the pleading expression was burned into your memory.

"It's just a rumor" You finally broke with a sigh. "Your wonderful grandfather thought he was being helpful when he and Opera kinda shared with a few of the faculty that Professor Balam and I are courting - or, er, dating."

The puppy-eyed expression disappeared, to your relief, and was replaced with mild confusion. "Wait, Grandpa and Opera started that rumor?"

Wait. "You've heard it already?" Oh, god. How far had it reached? Did the entire school know by now?!

"Maybe?" He offered, his cheeks turning pink. "I mean, the rest of my class have been wondering the same thing for a long time, to be honest…"

"What?!" You screeched.

"Well, everyone else is scared of Professor Balam except for Kalego. Even the other teachers seemed to avoid him. And then Sabnock and Asmodeus admitted tonight that you were frequently dropping by during their training…."

You hadn't even thought of that. Sullivan and Opera didn't need to say anything, apparently. You rubbed your face with a groan, wishing that you had heard that little fact tomorrow instead of today. Because now there was definitely no way you were getting sleep.

"To be honest, I was happy," Iruma continued after a moment, shocking you. You looked up and saw him smiling to himself as he looked down at his lap. "I mean, Professor Balam is one of the nicest people I've ever met. And I could tell you're really happy when you're talking with him. So, I’ve kinda been rooting for you two."

A thousand thoughts and emotions fought inside you, leaving you speechless for a long moment. "You… you don't think it's weird? A human and a demon?" You finally voiced softly.

He shook his head. "No! Not at all! And Professor Balam knows you’re human, and he's always so cautious around both of us. He'd take good care of you. Besides, there's no other humans down here but us, and I want you to be happy."

You wiped away the tears in your eyes and pulled him into another hug. "When did you get wise beyond your years yet again?"

"My mom taught me well," Was his muffled reply, making you squeeze him tighter.

"She could stand to listen to her own advice then, huh?"

--+-- Su-Ki-Ma--+--

The next morning you stumbled into the kitchen, drawn by the delicious smells.

You swore no one could cook like Opera, not even the amazing staff in the kitchens of Babyls.

Opera still wouldn't let you help much in the kitchens, but you had finally learned it wasn't because they were being possessive of the kitchen, they were apparently doing it more to protect you and the rest of the household from your attempts.

Cooking in the Netherworld required mana to make things edible, apparently. Iruma with his ring had just a bit of difficulty brewing tea, but it was drinkable; unlike your own mess.

"I was hoping you would be down," Opera stated as you plopped next to the small kitchen table as they quickly appeared with a steaming pot of tea. "I wanted to talk with you."

You made a noise to indicate you were listening, even if you weren't quite awake. To your surprise, Opera took the seat across from you, hand folded on the table and their yellow eyes piercing.

There was a brief moment of panic as you worried you had messed up somewhere; and while Sullivan was too kind to scold you, Opera certainly wouldn't have any qualms. Afterall, they were both Lord Sullivans right-hand as well as security demon.

"Shichiro, as well as Kalego, are my kohai," They started. "I'm not sure if humans have something similar to the term, but they are as precious to me as Lord Sullivan is."

Well, kohai - or underclassmen - were a thing in the human realm, but it varied culture to culture and you had a feeling it was far more significant here than where you were from. But you kept those thoughts to yourself and merely nodded your head.

"I wanted you to be aware that if I thought you would be a bad mate for Shichiro, I would not be participating in Lord Sullivan’s plans," They continued, making you flush and start to protest, to which they held up a hand to silence you. "I'm aware you aren't pleased with our interference, but let me continue. Shichiro is a very unique demon, to say the least, and I had thought he would be content with his role as a professor and guardian of Babyls. But I see now, it would take an equally unique person to catch his attention, as you have done."

"...you really think he's interested in me?" You quietly interrupted, and Opera gave a short nod.

"I've known him since his first year of Babyls when I took him and Kalego as my kohai. In the many years since, I have never seen him take such interest in a person. But, I digress. I had just wanted to assure you that your fears are unfounded, because if you weren't suited for him, I would be sure to make it clear."

That last bit… sounded rather like a threat, especially paired with unblinking eyes and annoyed twitch of their tail and ears.

"Okay," You answered meekly. "I-I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

They nodded again before standing. "And that I agree with Lord Sullivan, your children are going to be absolutely adorable. I'll have to contact his mother. Shichiro was extremely cute as a child - although a bit of a handful, if I remember her stories right."

They left you to gawk in silence as your mind was invaded by thoughts of children. With Balam.

"Can- can humans and demons even, you know, reproduce?" You squeaked without thinking, and earned a very slight smile from the feline demon.

"Legends say they can, but you know who the expert in that field is. Perhaps you should ask him."

Right. Balam was the expert in imaginary creature history. But… asking him…if humans and demons… could have kids.

That was even worse than asking him about courting.

#mairimashita! iruma kun #welcome to demon school iruma kun #balam shichiro #balam/reader #suzuki iruma #lord sullivan #naberius kalego #opera #balam shichiro x reader

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can-youimagine · 3 years

Text

Benefits of Friendship (Penelope Garcia x Reader)

Summary: Your friend’s boss is faced with a bit of a babysitting emergency, so he calls you. After meeting his coworkers, a special technical analyst makes you wonder how he managed to keep them away from you for so long.

TW: Feminine Reader, quick mention of murder, quick joke about sex Word Count: 1047

A/N: I’ve been having a hard time getting back into writing, so I would absolutely love some feedback. This will have at least one other part

Masterlist

“Hotch? You okay?” Morgan asks after Hotch throws his phone on top of the stack of paperwork on his desk.

He shakes his head. “I’m fine. Jess can’t watch Jack tomorrow, and I-”

“Bring him in. We can hang out with him while you have your meeting.”

He offers Morgan a rare smile. “Thank you, but we’ll have a new case by then.”

Morgan frowns for a moment. “I know just the girl.”

“Derek Morgan! You better have a good reason for calling me before eight.”

“Good morning to you, too, sugar. I thought teachers were supposed to be early risers.” He laughs through the phone.

You push yourself up in your bed. “Should’ve called me before spring break, then. What do you want?”

“My boss needs someone to watch his kid today.”

You sigh. “Yeah. Fine. Text me what I need to know.”

“Thanks, sugar. Can you be at Quantico in an hour?”

You begin to climb out of bed. “Can you get breakfast for me?”

You can just picture his smirk. “Anything. See you soon.”

“Whatever.” Not long after you hang up the phone, you get a message from Derek telling you a little more about Jack and thanking you again.

By the time you finish getting ready, you barely have enough time to get to his office before your breakfast officially becomes his. One glance around your apartment is enough to tell you that you need to figure out something to keep you and Jack busy outside.

Thankfully, you are able to get to the BAU without any problem, and with a few minutes to spare. A young man with shaggy hair gives you a questioning look, so you approach his desk first. “Hi, um, I’m (Y/N) (L/N). Could you tell me where Derek is? He asked me-”

“You’re the babysitter!” he exclaims, prompting the women at the other desks to come over.

You laugh lightly. “I generally prefer ‘teacher,’ but ‘babysitter’ can work.”

Before anyone has a chance to help you, you hear a familiar voice. “There you are! I was really hoping that this cinnamon muffin was mine.”

You take the bag from him. “Like I would let that happen.” You pull the muffin out, handing the empty bag back to Derek, as he explains. “Hotch’s meeting ran long, but he should be done soon. Jack’s in with Garcia.”

That elicits a laugh from the group. “Lord knows what they’re up to,” the blonde comments before turning back to her desk.

“I’ll let them know you’re here,” Derek says before leaving again.

“Wait!” You take your last bite of the muffin before handing the wrapper to him.

He gives a playful glare that you are all too familiar with before taking to the trashcan anyway.

The brunette laughs. “So, how did you manage to get Morgan to settle down?”

You furrow your brow. “What do you-oh! No, Derek and I aren’t together,” you clarify. “We met not too long after he moved here.”

She nods. “God, I would have hated to tell you that he was cheating on you.”

You laugh loudly. “Thank you, but no. We are definitely not together.”

“Oh, come on, sugar. I wanted to watch them try to figure it out.”

You shake your head as you turn to face him. However, a colorful woman behind him steals your attention. Derek says something to the child, who you had not even known was in the room until this point, pulling your attention back to the situation.

You smile at the child. “Hey, buddy. I’m (Y/N). I’ll be hanging out with you until your aunt can come.”

He offers you a small wave. “Hi.”

Derek ruffles the boy’s hair. “Don’t worry, kiddo. You can trust her.” You can’t stop yourself from wondering what happened to make a ten-year-old so cautious. “Ms. Garcia learned everything about her, and I trust her.”

“Everything?”

The blonde blushes. “As much as I could. You don’t have a lot come up in the system, which is a good thing.”

“So what? Like where I went to school, work, stuff like that?”

She nods. “Yeah, but since you’re going to be with my favorite person, I thought I’d look into it a little more.”

“Seems like you found out more than you’re willing to admit.”

Her blush deepens. “I don’t, I just-”

“Y’know, if you found my phone number, I wouldn’t mind a call. Tell me what else you found.” If you had glanced at Derek, you would have seen the look of absolute glee on Derek’s face, but instead, you keep your gaze on the flustered woman in front of you, who is only spared when the office next to you opens.

“Sorry the meeting went long. I’m Aaron Hotchner.” He barely gives you enough time to tell him your name before he ushers you into his office. “Thank you again for watching him. Jess should be able to get him in a few hours, but I’ll give you her number if you need her earlier.” He hastily scribbles something resembling a phone number onto a piece of paper. You truly hope you don’t run into any emergencies. “He’s got a lunch and some toys in his bag. I would love to talk to you a bit more, but Morgan trusts you.”

“Don’t sweat it. We’ve got a field trip to the museum soon. I was planning on making the worksheet today anyway.”

“Oh, Jack would love a trip to the museum. Thank you.”

“Of course.” You grab the booster seat on your way out of the office. Jack immediately runs to his dad to say goodbye, while you are left alone with Derek.

Derek nudges you. “As soon as you left, Penny ran off. Y’know, she stays behind while we’re on cases.”

You roll your eyes. “What are you getting at?”

“Nothing. I’m just saying. I’m sure it gets lonely being here all alone. You could-”

“Stop.”

He laughs. “I’m just saying.”

“Oh yeah. Murder is pretty sexy.”

“I didn’t say anything about sex.”

“With you, everything is about sex.”

He laughs harder.

Aaron puts Jack down. “Have fun!”

“Bye, Dad!” Jack wraps his arms around his dad one last time before rushing over to you.

“Bye, Derek.”

“Bye, sugar.”

#criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #penelope garcia x reader #penelope garcia imagine #penelope garcia #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan imagine

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greenninjagal-blog · 3 years

Text

The Rumor Mill Game (pt4)

I swear I didn’t forget about this au. This chapter is just....long.

Welcome back to this mess of an au :) If you need a refresher, you can find Part Three [here!] Or if you’re new check out the first part [here!]

Summary: Logan is...dealing with the fallout of him and his coworker, Remus, having created a rumor about them being married and now apparently having a kid except not because Logan screamed at the top of his lungs that Virgil wasn’t his kid. His boss has a different definition for what “dealing” actually means.

Words: 8292 (Holy shit remember when this au was 2k words)

Read on Ao3 || My General Writing Masterlist

When Logan had seen his boss after he made Virgil cry, he hadn’t expected it to end up like this.

Granted when he hadn’t exactly been expecting anything. He hadn’t been looking ahead, hadn’t been making plans, hadn’t been thinking at all. Which was most likely how he ended up outside the bar in the first place.

Logan could, of course, count the number of times he had been drunk on one hand. College had been a time for experimenting, and of course for his twenty-first birthday his friends at the time had been insistent that he needed to imbibe an unholy amount of alcohol in one night. They had turned it into an experiment, where Logan documented exactly what he was feeling after each drink and he still had the notes in his desk at home, despite the fact that his handwriting had become illegible after the fifth drink and someone had spilled an orange soda based tonic on the third page. The notes themselves were worthless, but they served as a memoir to people who he no longer associated with and a younger version of himself who had still been learning.

And Logan did have a soft spot for that imbecile: Twenty-one-year-old Logan Ackroyd who still believed in the goodness of people and who wanted to change the world and who could fall in lov--

Logan pitied him-- that kid he used to be-- which he was certain that his younger self would be indignant about. Logan always did hate when people pitied him. Those emotions had rarely ever been genuine, rarely ever been helpful, rarely been productive. What was he to do about people feeling bad for him? About others being disappointed? About others making assumptions about him and how he felt?

He didn’t need pity, and he didn’t want it. Not when he got rejected to his first three colleges, not when flunked that English class and had to pay to retake it the next year, not when he had bought that ring and gotten down on one knee and made a whole carefully edited speech and--

And he’s not nearly drunk enough to deal with these types of thoughts. Or any thoughts for that matter. Wouldn’t it just be great to stop thinking?

Then he wouldn’t have to remember the looks on his coworkers faces when he storming into the office less than fifteen minutes after initially leaving for lunch and demanded that Beatrice turn in her overdue spreadsheets in twenty minutes or he’d have her fired before slamming his office door hard enough to crack that frosted glass, or the look on Remus- fucking- Prince’s face when he tried to act like everything that had happened was not his fault and that Logan had taken the game to far by himself without any sort of prompting from Remus, or the look on Virgil’s face when Logan lost his self control.

Like an idiot. Like an asshole. Like someone who doesn’t think before he acts.

Like someone who should be alone for the rest of his life, because he can’t seem to get a hold of those useless emotions of his.

And Logan wanted so very badly to blame Remus Prince for this whole endeavor, the whole production, the whole catastrophe. He wanted to say that without Remus he never would have gotten that angry, wouldn’t have had that conversation, wouldn’t have even gotten Thai today.

Logan wanted to say that, but really it's his own fault. If he had just dismissed Remus’s rumor in the beginning, if he had just told Jen and Quin that his personal business was his own, if he had just ignored the urge to get coffee and finished the spreadsheets without getting up that last night.

His fourth finger itched around the base, the area where that little silver ring had been sitting for less than a day. It was ridiculous, utterly ridiculous, because Logan had never worn a ring before and now suddenly the absence of it caused his skin to crawl in a most unpleasant, unproductive way.

Distantly Logan realized that by gifting Remus such a wonderful present, he had also thrown away four hundred dollars. And perhaps ironically Logan noted that he feels annoyed about it-- four hundred dollars had been sitting in a pocket of a dress jacket in the corner of his office for over nine months and he had tossed it aside in a fit of impulsive anger.

Logan had not been hurting for money recently, with how decently he was paid, and the amount of overtime he worked, and how little time he had taken off since that disastrous night.

But perhaps he might have been able to return it to the jewelers and weathered the terrible, awful pitying looks they would give him when he requested about their refund policy or a location where he might be able to sell it himself. It was a ring that was worth four hundred dollars and he had given it to Remus, and isn’t it funny that that’s farther than he got with the one for whom the ring had been originally intended?

And as Logan downed his next rum and coke of the night, he hoped that Remus found a better use for it. Newton knows it hadn't done any good for Logan.

(Its stupid, Logan knew, to blame a ring for the way that he had screeched “He’s not and never will be our son!” Its stupid, Logan knew, to blame a ring for the way that Remus had hummed mischievously “I think I enjoy being fake-married to you, Logan." Its stupid, Logan knew, to blame a ring for the the way his last partner had said “We should see other people”. Its stupid, stupid, stupid--)

“Hmmm,” A voice behind him said, “I thought I would find you here!”

Logan didn’t realize he had closed his eyes until he heard the voice and felt every atom in his body figuratively threaten to combust. He wasn’t drunk enough to be thinking about him, and he most certainly wasn’t drunk enough to turn and look at the incessantly, perky man that had decided to sit down next to him.

Logan waved at the bartender and ordered another rum and coke and watched his freshly emptied glass disappear like the handful of others he didn’t bother to keep count of.

“And I’ll have two waters, please!” Patton Hart added with one of his peppy, happy, insufferable laughs, before turning to face Logan. “Hiya, Lo! It's been so long since we’ve seen each other!”

“Not long enough,” Logan disagreed, with a rueful smile that should very clearly, very precisely detail how much he does not want company at the current moment. “Don’t you have things to be doing tonight, Mr. Hart?”

Patton hummed, pressing his lips together as he thought-- a monumental task for someone like him, surely. Logan was partially convinced that if he removed his glasses he might be able to see the squirrels beginning to run on that rusted wheel in the other man’s brain. If Logan was of a less logical mind he might even be brazen enough to call this the first time Patton had used his brain all week.

“Well,” Patton said, carefully settling himself on the stool next to Logan. “I was graciously informed by my son that he would be enjoying the perks of being a teenager with no bedtime tonight and along with where exactly I could shove my homemade lasagna.” He laughed lightly, “Kids, these days! He really does keep me on my toes!”

Logan did his best not to roll his eyes. “I do not know the whereabouts of your son, Mr. Hart.”

“Patton,” He said easily, “And I’m not here for my son. I’m here for you, Logan.”

“If this is about the glass in my door, you are very capable of taking that out of my paycheck.” Logan told him.

The bartender placed Logan’s new rum and coke in front of him and he reached for it almost immediately, only stopping when Patton’s hand landed on his forearm.

“Mr. Hart--”

“Patton,” Patton corrected with that smile that Logan suspected was the worst thing in the world. Worse than Virgil’s blank expression when he told them to get out, worse than Remus’s smug one when he suggested that Logan did indeed enjoy the ability to manipulate his coworkers, worse than Beatrice faulty excel sheets, than broken glass of his door, than a ring he never wanted to see again and yet he still felt like it was missing from his finger.

“Mr. Hart,” Logan said again, “I am going to get horrifically drunk tonight, and I will be calling out sick tomorrow, regardless of what you say. So my advice to you is, say anything of importance now, before I am too incoherent to register and respond accordingly.”

“That doesn’t sound too smart there, kiddo!” Patton said, like he was any older than Logan was.

“I do not feel like being smart right now,” Logan said snippily. Because being smart involved thinking, and Logan had done quite enough thinking for the day. He was tired of thinking, tired of memories, tired of the lump in his chest that had formed during his lunch break and hadn’t dissolved in the eight hours since. He was tired.

“Would you like me to be smart for you?” Patton asked.

Ah.

Yes, Logan remembered suddenly with just a few words why he hated Patton Hart so much. Why he hated those too-wide brown eyes, those stupid freckles, that soft smile. Why he hated the way that Patton had tracked him down despite the fact that he had turned off his phone, the way that Patton had ordered two waters, the way that he hadn’t taken off his jacket. The way that he had taken out his keys and put them on the bar counter between them and Logan could pick out his own house key from the jumbled mess of bits and bobs.

“I heard something pretty interesting today,” Patton said, when Logan didn’t reply because he was too busy remembering why he hated Patton so much.

“Please don’t pretend like you didn’t know about my so-called affair before I did.” Logan snapped. “Honestly, Patton!” Logan dropped his arm from the glass and instead pressed his knuckles to his forehead. “Playing dumb about your own company is my least favroite thing about you.”

“I thought you hated my laugh the most.” Patton looked at him, letting the smile slip into something more serious.

“I hate everything about you.”

“Pay for the drinks, Lo.” Patton told him, “And I’ll take you home. We can have some of my lasagna and watch a space documentary, like we’re twenty years old again.”

Logan hated Patton and hated the way his chest ached at the offer. His knuckles bore into the side of his head, jabbing the frame of his own glasses into this temple. He hated the way that Patton was looking at him, soft and sweet and naive.

He hated the way his fingers itched to take Patton’s hand and go home.

“And after all that,” Patton continued so lightly, “You can tell me all about how Remus Prince got under your skin.”

Logan’s hand slammed on the counter, so suddenly he surprised himself. Patton, however, didn’t flinch, didn’t even blink, didn’t react other than to hold that smile.

“I am not drunk enough to be talking about Remus Prince,” Logan spat. “Especially not to you, Patton.”

Patton was quiet and at first, Logan really had thought that he had won something-- he thought that perhaps Patton would grant him mercy and let him drown his sorrows alone and miserable in a bar until he forgot his own name. But Patton was too good of a friend and Logan really should hate him less for that.

“You know,” Patton said with a cold type of humor that doused Logan with awareness. Bad awareness. The type of awareness that sunk it’s metaphorical claws into Logan’s chest and pierced straight through his heart before Patton finished what he was saying. “I think….yeah that does sound familiar. Do you remember the last time you said you weren’t drunk enough to tell me something?”

Logan did.

Logan couldn’t forget if he tried.

And he had tried so very hard for so very long-- except that Remus Prince had waltzed into Logan’s life, had called him a Robot, had smirked at him and run their coworkers around like cattle with pretty little words. Except that Remus Prince had gotten bored and decided that the only logical next course of action was to mess with Logan’s personal life.

Except that Remus Prince had played along with the rumor game, and smiled at him, and kissed him, and---

And Logan had started thinking---

And Logan’s mouth had started moving--

And Virgil face had--

Logan reached for the glass in front of him, reaching for the cool ice and the spritzy carbonation and the burn of the rum.

Patton watched him, blinking in the long, slow, dumb way of his that had fooled just about every person that he had come in contact with. With the goofy smile and the habit of deliberately misunderstanding key phrases and making puns and jokes when things were tense, it was hard to see him as anything other than a rich son who became CEO via thinly veiled nepotism.

Logan knocked back the drink, blinking back the burn behind his eyes that were from the alcohol and definitely not from the lump in his throat that had started dissolving.

He didn’t want to close his eyes, because he knew what he would see when he did: a nice suit, a fancy dinner, a walk to the bridge dotted with fairy lights of all things. He’d see that stupid ring, that stupid face, that stupid end of the night that everyone had told him would be nice, and perfect, and everything he would ever want!

And he didn’t want to think about how it had not been nice or perfect or anything either of them had ever wanted!

He didn’t want to think about how years ago he had come to a bar just like this, and tried to get so drunk he could pretend that it hadn’t happened, and Patton had shown up then and offered him a job and--

“He wants to go by Janus now,” Patton said, picking up one of the waters and taking a sip.

Logan squinted at him and tried not to be happy about the distraction from his own thoughts, “Who?”

“My son,” Patton said, like it was obvious he had switched back to a neutral topic. “He told me earlier during our phone call he wants to go by Janus, now. He said he’s hated the name Dante for forever. Can you believe it, Lo?”

Logan couldn’t actually. Because he had known Patton since they themselves were teenagers, since before Patton had brought up how empty being a CEO was without anyone to come home too, since Patton had first invited him to Sunday brunch and introduced him to the child he called “son”. Logan had babysat Dante when Patton had business trips and Dante had always been proud of himself, of his better-than-the-status-quo lifestyle, of his name that held power and prestige and weight.

Dante had been practicing saying his name in the mirror since before his voice cracked. Dante Hart, future CEO. Dante Hart, son of Patton Hart. Dante Hart.

“He’s a teenager,” Logan said, “He’s rebelling.”

“Maybe so!” Patton laughed, and it dwindled down to something that was easier felt in the air than definable in terms Logan was familiar with, “Gosh, I love him so much, Lo. My baby! He’s growing up so fast now! The other day he told me he had a boyfriend. He’s at that stage where he doesn’t want me to help him anymore!”

And despite the buffoon having not had a single drop of alcohol, Patton was tearing up. Logan gritted his teeth at the implications of a weepy, teary, so-full-of-emotions Patton. He had spent enough time in college trying to console him as he figured out the whole “Why does it always have to be about sex? Why can’t I just love hugging someone, Lo? Why does everyone make me feel so broken?” Logan hadn’t been any good back then, and he definitely hadn’t gotten better with time.

After that disaster with the last guy, Logan had decided that feeling things, frivolous things, emotion-like things, were not something he was into anymore.

Logan learned from his mistakes, after all.

Even the mistakes that started with “R” and ended in a $400 ring being thrown away.

“Is that why you’re here, Mr. Hart?” Logan asked, in that way of his that told even Patton with his squirrel run brain that it wasn’t actually a question at all. “You can’t baby your son anymore so you’ve moved on to the next best thing?”

Patton stuck his tongue in his cheek and set his water back down. “Patton.” He stressed. “And I’m not here to baby you, Logan. I’m here to be your friend.”

He said “friend” like it was a word in the dictionary Logan didn’t know. It was infuriating: the insinuation that Logan had never cracked open a dictionary before, that he was so unknowledgeable about the concept of a friend that Patton was about to show him the online Oxford dictionary definition, like someone who played dumb all day and peppered his windows with sticky notes in the shape of a game of Frogger knew more about something than Logan who had clawed his way up from nothing and was constantly needing to prove how he earned his position.

Patton nudged the second water in Logan’s direction.

Logan stared at it, at the condensation on the glass, at the ice cubes, at the refraction of the low lights from the bar counter. He stared at it like it was a portal back through time that would allow him to slam some sense into poor, pitiful twenty-one-years-old Logan before he let himself fall in Love.

Before he bought a ring or stopped taking days off unless Patton tromped down to his office himself. Before Remus Prince borrowed his cup and before Logan got it in his head that he was serving revenge rather than idiocracy. Before he let himself think too little and say too much and hurt a kid that had never deserved to be upset before in his life.

“If my son wants to be called Janus, I’ll call him that,” Patton says softly. “Because even if it doesn’t make sense to me, it means something to him. And even if my friend is struggling with emotions that don’t make sense to me, I’m still gonna try to help him, Lo.”

Patton ducked his head just a little, just enough that he managed to catch Logan’s strategically averted gaze and make something out of it: a swell of guilt, a sense of hope, a pinch of safety and unadulterated kindness.

His throat was dry, but it was the type of dry that couldn’t be fixed with a glass of water.

“I made a kid cry,” Logan said, because self loathing is a coat he had thought he’d outgrown but he can still fit his arms in the sleeves.

Patton nodded. “Yeah, I heard about that.” He sipped his water. “I think we all have at one point or another.”

“See, the distinct difference that you are missing here, Patton, is that you are a father.” Logan snapped, “And your son will cry at the drop of a hat if he thinks he can get something out of it. And you would never harm a child! Not for any reason in the entire world!”

“And you would?”

“I did.” Logan felt himself sink into the chair, sink like an anchor in the ocean, sink like the floor below him had turned into a blackhole. “I did, I did it. What type of person does that make me?”

“I hate to break it to you, Lo,” Patton said, as kindly as he could, which Logan knew was truly, sickenly nice. He wanted to choke on the sentiment but he found that he couldn’t quite make his chest hurt the way he wanted it too when it came to Patton’s pity.

“But that just means you’re a normal person.” Patton smiled dumbly, tilting his head and shrugging. “Everyone says things they don’t mean sometimes.”

“You don’t.”

“I do,” Patton countered gently, “Like when I hired Beatrice before realizing that she had lied about knowing how to use Excel.”

“Fuck, Beatrice,” Logan agreed, because if he closed his eyes too hard he thought he might still see grid patterns as much as he might see Virgil’s hurt expression and he hated it so much. So much.

“I also told-- Janus once that I would get him anything he wanted for his birthday, and he asked for a snake.” Patton shuddered, almost comically, “And you saw how that turned out.”

“I’ve always been impressed with his ability to sneak things into the school buildings,” Logan sighed. “I doubt anyone has ever forgotten that Show-and-Tell.”

Patton chuckled quietly. It was almost lost in the buzz of the other patrons in the bar. He drew a smiley face in the condensation on his glass and Logan reached over to wipe it away, like he had done a hundred seventeen times since college.

“So….Lasagna?” Patton offered. “We can make some garlic bread too.”

“I regret ever meeting you,” Logan said, even as he picked up the keys on the counter between them. He wished that Patton didn’t look so self satisfied, so pleased, so smug when the words tumbled from his lips, but Patton had never been one to pertain to the wishes and whims of Logan like that.

Settling his tab was quick; a pile of bills from his wallet that he didn’t actually check, but decided the bartender deserved anyway and then Patton linked their elbows together so that Logan couldn’t walk off the way that he used to when he would agree with Patton just to get him to shut up. Logan snagged Patton’s glasses from his head and fogged them up with his breath, before taking on the tedious task of cleaning the fingerprints off the lens meticulously while walking in a wobbling straight line.

Patton laughed like silver bells and it alone brightened the entire street with a type of magic that Logan had long since given up on trying to scientifically explain. The poet in him that Logan had buried under Calculus classes and Statistics courses and a Business degree and only let out when the alcohol out weighed the blood in his system, whispered that it was because it was Patton and his aloofness, and his kindness, and his generosity that never made any sense, and wasn’t that reason enough for the universe to lighten up?

It was drizzling outside, scattered raindrops and dark heavy clouds that whispered of a thunderstorm later. Patton skipped, Logan rolled his eyes and let himself be dragged towards the familiar pale blue punch buggy. It was the same exact car from their college time together, if one ignored the frankenstein replacements of just about every single component in it. Patton clung to the car the same way he had clung to the delusion of Logan being a good friend; sticking close through every breakdown, excusing every letdown, and spending far too much money on it when economically it would have been more beneficial to just let them go.

A wave of self loathing wrapped over Logan again when he pulled on the car door. Patton was genuinely a good person, a good friend. He was stupid at times and he made decisions that made Logan was to strangle him, but he cared so much more than other people. He offered fourth and fifth chances when Logan would have stone-walled his offender at one.

Not to mention, he had come out in the rain to find Logan specifically, probably traversing through three other bars to find the one that Logan had chosen to be his misery echo chamber.

By some sort of lucky happenstance, Logan had originally walked far enough to hail a taxi to get to this bar, leaving his car in the safety of the parking garage where Patton’s company paid a nice sum for security. Logan had tried to argue about that expense with him back in the day, but Patton had pulled out a picture of his toothy grinning son-- Janus-- and said “Lo!! What if my son comes to visit when he learns to drive?! I don’t want to worry about him getting attacked in the parking garage!”

Logan had brutally pointed out that his son would never visit him during work, and so far he had been correct in that assessment, but that didn’t stop him from feeling the slightest bit guilty about his bluntness even so much time later.

Patton had always looked for the best in people, had more strength than most of humanity, had more hope in happy endings that Logan had trust in fact and numbers.

“Is your son okay with me calling him Janus? I’m unsure of etiquette on this. Should I wait until he tells me his preference or should I just make the switch and not bring it up to him?” Logan asked with a sigh as Patton pulled out of the parking spot and set them towards Patton’s house on the other side of town. Unobstructed and following the driving laws, it would only take them about fifteen minutes, and yet Logan wondered about the possibility of Patton having Advil in the car.

The back of his head was already aching from the days events: banging his head on the keyboard all morning leading up to his disastrous lunch date, Remus, Virgil, squinting at spreadsheets until he couldn’t make out the numbers anymore, and the of course stumbling his way to the bar and dealing with Patton.

Patton giggled. “Oh yeah! I asked him earlier if it was okay to tell you. He said he wanted you to call him Janus now. He also said to tell you, you can take a hike.”

Knowing Janus, it was probably something more volatile than “taking a hike”. Most likely it had been something that might have required him to put a full five dollars in the swear jar that they kept on the counter next to the cookie jar. Not that it would matter much. Logan had stayed over at their house dozens of times and every single time he had come across Janus taking that money back out of that swear jar.

As far as Logan was aware, the swear jar had never actually been full. Patton must have noticed at some point-- probably that very first time Janus had taken the money back out-- but he was irritating insistent that he play dumb about it. Thus, Janus continued to swear in excess, Patton continued to make him put money in a swear jar for no real reason, and Logan continued to never understand either of them.

The radio in Patton’s car had been broken fifteen times since Patton had gotten it, but Logan assumed from the silence of the drive that it was now sixteen. He rested his elbow on the window and watched the drizzle turn into a steady rain and the windshield wipers flutter across their vision to occasionally bring them clarity.

The night life was somewhat dreary. The driving pace was slow, and they hit every single stop light in the city because that was just Logan’s luck. There were a few people running around in the rain: a family with a small child who was jumping in every slowly forming puddle on the sidewalk, a couple sharing an umbrella walking so close together they appeared as if to be one misshapen form, a group of friends chatting outside a 24 hour dinner in raincoats, and a few smokers huddled under an alcove with embers burning just enough for Logan to make out their forms through the downpour.

Logan realized almost immediately that the pit in his stomach was much more bearable if he instead focused on the raindrops on the window that are much easier to look at, much less representing something that Logan had always expected he might one day have, much less accusatory in wondering what is wrong with him that he can’t act like a normal human being, this isn’t working, who wants to marry a robot like you--

That was the reason why he wasn’t expecting the sudden jerk of the car coming to a hard stop at a yellow light that they absolutely could have made.

“PATTON!” Logan yelled.

The car behind them blared it’s horn and Logan rubbed his neck and reset his glasses from the sudden movement, ready to question what exactly Patton thought he was doing, because truly of all the things Logan was not in the mood for, this was one of them.

Except that before Logan could get any words out, Patton had put the car in park and whipped off his seatbelt to kick open his door. A wave of rain came pouring into the car as the man threw himself from the driver's seat like there was something wrong with the car, and for a second Logan entertained the absurd idea that they were going to blow up.

Which truly, would have just been a fitting end to his horrific day.

“Patton!” Logan hissed, grabbing after the other’s coat to pull him back inside before the rain soaked into the seats. “Get back in th--”

The other man ignored him, frantically waving to someone in the rain. “REMUS!! MR. PRINCE!! OVER HERE!!”

If Logan knew slightly less about human biology he might have been inclined to say that his heart jumped straight to his throat and climbed its way up his esophagus to strangle him. He wouldn’t have recognized the figure on the street corner on his own: Remus Prince was wearing a black leather jacket and jeans with holes in the knees. He was soaked to the bone, without an umbrella, and his usual bouncy brown curls were matted to his head, as if he had been walking out in the rain for much longer than the rain had been sweeping through the city.

He was standing with the smokers under their minimal tarp, although he, himself, was without a cigarette at all. When he turned at the call of his name, there was only confusion and exhaustion in his face. None of the smugness, or the ego, or the energy that he usually had.

Logan didn’t know why that bothered him. He was hurting from earlier; that was good.

After all, it was Remus’s ridiculous game that he had dragged everyone else into.

((Logan’s finger itched and he dug his nails into his skin so deeply he was afraid to glance down in case there was blood pouring off hands.))

Remus ventured out to meet them, dodging across the lanes of traffic without a care in the world, or perhaps with a death wish. Remus didn’t seem particularly like he would mind getting run over by the way that he opened the back door, climbed in, and shook the excess water out in the interior of the car like some type of undomesticated dog.

“Is this a kidnapping?” He asked, rain dripping down his face. “A murder? Do I get to know your name before you dismember me, cutie?”

Patton laughed joyfully, even as Logan felt his face screw up at the sound of Remus calling their boss “cutie”. It was beyond unprofessional, even if Remus was apparently unaware that his career hinged entirely on not insulting Patton. It took a lot to make Patton angry enough to fire someone-- his patience was the best and worst thing about him, as Logan had been reminded every time they interacted-- but once Remus crossed that line, not even a cockroach like him would be able to drag himself out of the metaphorical wasteland Patton would make out of his life.

Cutie, honestly. Who calls anyone they’ve just met cutie. Logan could understand Remus having called him Lovebug and Lolo, but cutie?

For Patton?

Patton climbed back into the car, snapping on his seatbelt and managed to get out of park at the very same moment as the light turned green. He wiped his sleeve along his glasses, and brightly said, “I’m Patton! And you already know Logie here!”

“Logie?” Remus repeated, sitting back against the seat taking in Logan for the first time. “Oh shi--”

“Do not call me that,” Logan said. “Patton, you can drop me off at the next corner. I will walk home.”

“Don’t be silly!” Patton said, in the same tone that he had used during their college days to coax Logan into driving him to the nearest grocery store after he had successfully managed to pull two all nighters in a row. Logan hated that tone, and Patton knew that well.

“If you do not stop the car, I will throw myself from it while it is still moving.”

“I can get out, actually!” Remus said far too loud for the small car. Logan resisted the urge to turn around and scowl at him. Surely, his pea-sized brain had managed to figure out that he was the point of contention here and that his best move would be to shut up, so why had he decided to open his mouth? “I need to get home anyway. Big day tomorrow and everything.”

“Oh?” Patton said delightedly because Logan would not ever play into subject changes willingly. “What’s tomorrow?”

“I’m getting fired,” Remus said with a nonchalant shrug.

Patton blinked for a moment-- his squirrel-run brain jamming at the sudden twist of the words because whatever he was expecting from his visitor it was not that. Logan resisted the urge to reach over and give him a shake at the shoulders: of course he wouldn’t be able to expect anything with Remus Prince. The man was insufferable and illogical and he wrought chaos for fun.

With everything that had happened, did Patton really think that there was an exaggeration in there?

Remus wanted attention. And he said whatever he needed to in order to get it: a fake affair, a fake divorce, a fake child-- Of course he would say he was getting fired tomorrow if it got Patton to have to use all of his meager brain cells to figure out how serious he was.

“Is that something to celebrate, Mr. Prince?” Logan cut in coldly. “Getting fired?”

“And here I thought that you would be happy, Ackroyd,” Remus said. “Unless you think you’re going to miss me.”

“If only I would be so lucky,” Logan said, digging his phone from his pocket, and turning it back on. The screen was blindingly bright and Logan’s eyes ached just glancing at it in the corner of his vision. “Patton, pull over. I am not doing this tonight. Or tomorrow. Or ever again.”

“I’m not going to let you walk home after however many rum and cokes you had, Logan.”

“Patton,” Logan snarled. “If you continue to treat me like you treat your son, I will tender my resignation tonight. Pull over now.”

Patton opened his mouth, but whatever he was going to say was swallowed up in Remus’s empty voice speaking.

“You went drinking?”

“Do not talk to me, Mr. Prince.”

“You’re not even yelling.”

Logan wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean, which may have irritated him more than the fact that he was so insistent about continuing to talk when Logan was liable to push the car to crash and kill all three of them. Remus was already staring at him, his expression dark and serious in the passing car lights and somehow Logan thought that he looked vulnerable.

Logan gritted his teeth as his headache pulsed behind his eyes.

“Shut up,” he said. “And put on your seat belt.”

“Or what? You’ll divorce me?” Remus pushed forward between the seats until he was just a few inches from Logan’s own face, grinning with all his teeth. It was at once the same smile that Logan had catalogued through every week of working with him and also something completely foreign.

Remus had pulled him into a kiss earlier that morning, and Logan remembered the taste of pickles on his lips just as well as the smirk he kept as Logan walked away. But this expression is somehow inverted, somehow shifted, somehow a weapon more than a challenge.

“Boys,” Patton said. “Please don’t fight in my car!”

“If you did not want us to fight, why did you invite him in this car?” Logan asked. “You, of all people, know my opinions on--”

“Logan, you’re drunk.”

“What does that have to do with this?!” Logan bit out. He glared at his phone: there were three missed calls from Patton and a handful of text messages from him that Logan couldn’t actually read in the combination of the bright phone light and darkness around them. His eyes were blurry even with his glasses on and the frustration of not being able to read only heightened as he made out the notification for his email which meant that Beatrice had managed to finish her work (allowing Logan to be able to go fix it) or that news of him yelling at a child made it around the office and now he was going to harassed by them as well.

All because of Remus Prince’s inability to shut up.

Patton threw a hand out and grabbed Logan’s phone from his hand and carelessly tossed it over both their shoulders to Remus.

“Patton!” Logan hissed, rubbing the irritated tears from his eyes. “Remus, give it back!”

Remus, however, was just staring at the phone in his lap like it was some type of bomb. Logan’s phone locked itself and the screen went dark, and still Remus sat inhumanely still in the seat, staring at it, with a type of blank expression that Logan oftentimes related to their coworkers when Logan asked them to perform any sort of math without a calculator.

“Remus,” Logan said again.

Remus jerked at the sound of his voice, snapping out of whatever fit the phone had put him in almost meekly-- if Logan could describe anything Remus did as meekly without it being a blatant falsehood. “Meekly” itself had never seemed to be a word in Remus’s vocabulary which was another irritating fact about him that made Logan break out in figurative hives.

Logan knew how Remus was.

He knew Remus.

It didn’t matter that he had never talked to Remus before today, that his thinly veiled contempt for his coworkers kept him from being willing to stand in their presence more than he was being paid to, that this fake affair was the first stupid relationship of any kind he had gotten outside of Patton and his son since his last boyfriend had dumped him on the night he was going to propose and hadn’t he thought he’d known him too? Isn’t that what led to all this?

It didn’t matter.

Logan was smarter, now. Logan was better now. Logan was--

“I don’t…” Remus said, trailing off as he stared at the messages popping up on Logan’s phone and Logan wondered why it felt like his lungs had shrunk right in his chest. “I don’t think you should be reading these right now.”

“He definitely should not!” Patton said, with a very convincing amount of forced happiness. “Hold that for him will you, Remus? Oh and why do you think you’re going to get fired tomorrow?”

Remus looked up at Logan and then at Patton and then back at Logan, like Logan was supposed to know what that meant in addition to every other stupid look he’d given Logan all evening. Logan shoved his glasses up to his hairline and rubbed his aching eyes, and yet somehow that still didn’t fix the pounding in his head or the exhaustion hollowing out his bones. It also didn’t make Remus disappear from the backseat, which was equally annoying, even though Logan hadn’t truly thought he was a shared apparition for him and Patton.

“You didn’t mention anything about today to your… what are you a fuck buddy?” Remus said.

And Patton laughed.

Logan grabbed the door handle and yanked on it, but of course the ridiculous safety locks were engaged, and Logan had spent far too many sober years getting locked in this car to try to puzzle out the broken locking system in order to drunkenly throw himself out of the car. He was not in the habit of wishing for miracles, or even believing in deities, but he imagined that some powerful entity was finding ruining Logan’s life to be semi enjoyable.

“See this is why I can’t fire him!” Patton said through giggles and Logan thought maybe he was being addressed for this. Patton met Remus’s gaze through the rearview mirror and shook the last bit of water from his damp hair. “You make everything so entertaining!”

“What?”

Logan grit his teeth and yanked on the door handle again. “Remus, meet Mr. Hart, the CEO and your boss. Also put on your seatbelt.”

Remus blinked at them both, leaning between the seats and definitely not putting on his seatbelt. Logan counted backward from ten, reminding himself that one of the hiring requirements for Patton’s company has always been must be the stupid beyond belief. He’d known for a while that his coworkers were idiots on a good day, hazards to his health on bad ones, and yet somehow in the whirlwind of the day he’s had, Logan had forgotten that Remus counted as a coworker still.

“I’m not… getting fired?” Remus said, acting much like a computer after being turned on. “Why do you know my name then?”

Patton shrugged, flicking on his blinker to change lanes before the next light. “You have interesting ideas for your advertising strategy! Of course I would know your name! I’m sorry about vetoing that last one. I know Logan liked it, but I wanted to stick to the family-as-a-whole angle.”

“Patton,” Logan warned with an edge.

“Logan liked…?” Remus echoed, before turning towards Logan with a look of bewilderment that annoyed Logan far more than it had any right to. “You actually look at my shit?”

“Put on your seatbelt, Remus,” he said, because wasn’t it obvious that Logan looked at his things? Before the whole Robot incident Logan hadn’t had a problem with Remus at all: he was effective and efficient and the rumors were irritating but below him to indulge in. Before Remus had dragged him figuratively kicking and screaming into this mess, Logan approved the budgets that came with the projects Remus created.

He still did that, just with more anger than before. Petty feelings for Remus himself aside, his work was objectively good.

Logan knew that about him.

“So!” Patton said over both of them, with his signature grin that Logan suspected he would still be wearing even if Logan decided to kill him right now. It must be the by-product of being controlled by rodents running on a wheel. “How was your volunteer work Remus?”

Remus froze in the back seat, going unnaturally still again. “Are you some kind of stalker-- uh sir?”

“Will you knock that off?” Logan snapped, which only made Remus’s shoulders jump straight to his ears. “And put on your seatbelt.”

“Just curious!” Patton said, ignoring Logan entirely. “Darlene is a good friend of mine! I make sure to send monthly donations to the organization since I don’t have a lot of free time to jump over and help.”

Remus didn’t say anything to that. He swallowed audibly and leaned back against the seat, dragging fingers through his wet hair and then tucked his arms in his own armpits. Logan pressed a palm to his forehead watching the street lights bend from behind his eyelids because that was easier than staring at Remus act like Patton was trying to pull his teeth out.

“You actually do volunteer work?” Logan said. “You don’t seem like the type.”

“Ha,” Remus said without any inflection. Logan thought that was the quietest that he had ever been. Where was that stupid ass smirk? Where was the stubbornness that pushed back against everything? Where was that loud voice and that confidence?

“Put on your seatbelt,” Logan said again.

“Why do you care if I wear the belt or not?”

“Remus put on your seatbelt or, so help me Newton, I will climb back there and put it on for you, myself!”

The air simmered from the acid in his tone, making the silence figurative chafe against his ribs. Remus stared at him, blinking slowly, with the street lights casting roving shadows on his face. His dark eyes were just so-- so--

Logan dug his nails into his palm. Why was it Remus Prince could make him feel like this? What gave him the right?

“It’s okay!” Patton said, setting the car to park. “We’re here anyway!”

Logan reached up and pulled his glasses back onto his face properly, but it still took him a moment to realize that they were near a bunch of townhouses, double parked outside one that Logan had considered moving into all those years ago when he had first been looking for an apartment for after college.

Remus too, apparently needed a moment to recognize the area. “We… are at my apartment? Holy shit, you are a stalker.”

Patton giggled, flashing Remus with his blinding smile and reached back to pick up Logan’s phone from his hands. “Thank you so much, kiddo! We’ll wait until you get inside all safe and sound, and I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“You will not,” Logan said. “Tomorrow you have a business deal two hours away to complete and if you miss it--”

Patton stretched back in his seat and let out a hugely exaggerated yawn. “But they’re so boring! Maybe I should bring Janus with me. He always makes my business deals entertaining. I love when he sets his snake on people. He looks so happy and he laughs and--”

Logan squeezed his eyes closed and recited the first twenty digits of pi in his head to keep from grabbing Patton’s squirrel run brain and slamming it into the steering wheel.

“Homicide is wrong,” Logan said.

“I’ll help you vouch for insanity,” Remus said. “I mean, tied together through a murder, and possibly hiding a body is much more juicy than a fake marriage that’s falling apart. We’d be the talk of the office.”

“They would not find any body that I hid,” Logan said. “Nobody would.”

Remus opened his mouth to say something more, but whatever it is he decided against it. Instead he slid over the seats and kicked open the door right behind Logan and stepped out into the night air.

“Thanks for the ride, Mr. Hart, sir,” he said, strangely formal, then squinted and added, “Daddy?”

“I’m not firing you, Remus,” Patton said. “No matter what you call me!”

Logan ran his tongue over his teeth counting each and every one. Remus looked at him but ultimately finally adhered to that whole shutting up thing. He closed the door to Patton’s blue punch buggy and started towards the door to the apartments.

“Oh,” Remus said, and turned back at the last second. He knocked his knuckles on Logan’s window a few inches from where Logan’s gaze fixed itself on a light. Patton apparently knew more about what to do than Logan because he pressed the window lowering button and Remus reached his entire arm into the window to drop a small object right into Logan’s lap.

Logan caught it mainly due to reaction rather than skill and his skin tingled at the familiar item. Even in the dark, Logan’s fingers roll over the shape of the ring that had always reminded him of the worst day of his life. It was still warm from being in Remus’s pocket.

“I think that should stay with you,” Remus said, like it wasn’t a big deal at all. “You know… for the next boytoy you take to your sex dungeon or whatever nerds like you do on weekends.”

And then he turned around and fled towards the apartment building. Patton turned off the hazard lights and slipped back into traffic and Logan wondered if he would be polite enough to not comment if Logan started crying right then and there.

His throat felt swollen, his tongue too big for his mouth, and the headache thrummmmmmed painfully.

Logan knew Remus Prince.

“You know that Remus Prince isn’t gonna be like him,” Patton said to fill the silence.

“Remus Prince isn’t like anyone.” Logan didn’t whine. To whine would be unbecoming. And childish. And embarrassing.

So Logan didn’t whine and Patton mercifully didn't call him out on his not-whining.

And neither of them mention the choked tone that Logan had for the rest of the night.

When Logan had seen his boss after he made Virgil cry, he hadn’t expected it to end up with him clutching that ring like a lifeline, but as he ran his fingers around the rim, he wondered if it had fit on Remus’s finger at all.

(Part Five)

#intrulogical #sanders sides #logan sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #Far too many OCs gross #Rumor Mill Au #rumors #well fake marriage #sympathetic remus #Logan is bad at feelings #so bad #now with more logan angst #Patton is a good friend #This au is so old that I called Janus Dante and I decided to fix that #alcohol #drunk logan

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dawsons-justice · 4 years

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He Promised, You Trusted.

Part Two to “I Promise, You Trust”

A/N: Reader is between 14-17, so this is a Father Figure!Antonio x Reader. No romance, 100% platonic.

TW: Nothing horribly graphic, some mild angst, but mostly just to lead up to the fluff

Masterlist

It sure was cold outside. Chicago had been cold, but Minnesota somehow was colder. Your aunt had apologized she couldn't pick you up from school but it wasn't really her fault. She had to pick up some extra shifts to keep up with the bills. You're just glad she let you stay with her. 8 months ago, you really had no idea where you would end up.

8 months ago...

Detective Dawson ran off to make some calls, leaving you to your own thoughts. You noticed the worried glances of his coworkers watching you from the unit floor. You didn’t know any of them, they were all sorta intimidating in their own way, well, except for the woman with brown hair, she looked nice. It just felt better to block them out and focus on the mug in your hands. The hot chocolate had gotten cold in the time it took you to process everything and really you haven’t truly processed anything.

Dawson came back in the room, his face muddled with several emotions. There was some stress, determination and anger but you made out the sympathy on his features most of all. Most people don't want sympathy, but you were just glad someone was caring enough to do so. Trailing behind him was another cop, older, you'd seen him before, just didn't know his name.

"You got anyone we can call?" Antonio asks. you had to wrack your brain a bit. It hadn’t occurred to you that this would be important. "I have an aunt. I haven't talked to her in years. My dad and her don't get along."

The two men exchanged a glance. And you understood now. If you didn't find a home yourself, they'd have to put you in a group home. That was not good. You had heard stories, everyone has. Group homes only provide shelter to trouble. If you ended up there who knows what would happen to you after. You hadn’t thought this through, this was a bad idea. In some sort of a desperate plea, you grab the detective’s hand as he’s about the leave with the other guy.

"Wait no no... I can't live in a home. I can't. I'd rather go home to my dad. Please no." Panic evident in your voice. His face softens, kneeling down to your height. He was just going to try to comfort you. You forced yourself to remember whatever he says can’t change the truth. He isn’t the one making the rules. You’re not naive.

"Hey, hey kiddo. Not there yet, let's give your aunt a ring and see if we can get ahold of her. You got a name?" His voice calm, if he was worried you really couldn’t tell now, unlike when he first returned. You gave her name, not knowing anything besides she lived in St. Paul. But they were cops, you figured they could track her down.

The other guy, Voight, left, you heard him call out to someone named Halstead to run your aunt's name. Antonio didn’t move, just kept holding your hand looking around as if he wasn’t. The fact we seemed unbothered by the comforting gesture put you more at ease, yet you still were struggling with this.

"B-but what if she doesn't want me?"

There was a look of disbelief in his face, as if you were made of solid gold. It was fake and you knew it, still, it was comforting. "We're gonna figure it out, ok? I'll tell her myself what a great kid you are."

"I'm sorry."

The detective didn’t have to say anything, but you knew he deflected your apology. Somehow you just knew the minute you said it what his response was going to be. He didn’t feel bothered. And on top of this it was going to work out. He would make sure it worked out.

And it did. Given the explanation of the situation, your Aunt was happy to take you in. Antonio pulled some strings and you spent one night with his colleague Kim Burgess (the woman with the brown hair) before your aunt took over custody. In less than 48 hours you were on your way to Minnesota with a bag you packed and your dad had no clue. For once you knew there was at least one person who was worth trusting in this world.

The snow crunched below your feet. It was only another mile or so to your aunt’s place. The roads were pretty clear. Much of the snow had been packed down for days, but a recent heatwave melted and refroze the roads to solid ice. The deceiving snow was only an inch or two thick on top of the slick icy layer beneath. So, when you hear tires squeal, it is not in any way surprising. You were learning to drive yourself; ice roads were something that even your aunt had trouble managing let alone teach you how to navigate. You had respect for anyone who was able to successfully manage those roads in two-wheel drive. Whipping around, there’s not a two-ton car sliding towards you as you had expected, planning to dive roll into the snow. There’s a black van with a guy in a ski mask running towards you.

Crap.

Taking advantage of the ice, you threw your backpack at him, hoping he’d lose his balance and walk onto the more slippery road. Yet things do not go to plan as he easily recovers and continues to pursue you, reaching you and wrapping his arms around your waist. You fought. You screamed, wailed, bit, flailed, kicked and every other defensive action your subconscious could think of. It didn’t work, he was just too much bigger than you. You were thrown into the back of the van.

no no no no no this can’t be happening.

You considered yourself a calm person, but that was before you were tied and gagged in the back of a van. The darkness seemed to only escalate your fears as you had a blank canvas to imagine your worst nightmares becoming reality. "Please, just let me go” you must have said it 40 times before something heavy hit your head.

Things faded in and out. Darkness and light fought a battle, but you could never really tell if you could see or not, it was all just shadows. The nausea was also coming in waves, paired with the throbbing sensation on the back of your head. You had been pistol whipped. But of course, you didn’t know that. The sheer terror of the entire situation still had you disoriented. You couldn’t feel the time pass, most people know what a minute or five minutes feels like, but you couldn’t focus. It was all too much.

When the van doors slide open you hear the guy who grabbed you talk to whoever was driving. “I still can’t believe this guy.” His gruff voice scoffed, close by.

“Well, he had the money, who are we to judge.”

“Guy? Had someone hired them to take me? Was I about to be sold or something?”

You’re embarrassed to say the next voice you heard brought you half a millisecond of comfort, it was misplaced. “You had to put a sack over her head?” It was your dad. How? Better question why would he ask that question though he had no emotion in his voice.

The men and your dad talk as you wrestle with this entire shock. Suddenly someone picks you up and carries you over their shoulder. You figured it was guy who grabbed you, but feeling that whoever was holding you gently lowered you to the floor, you made the new assumption it was your dad. The blindfold and gag came off in a quick motion. You were met with the hollow face of your father in some sort of abandoned room. He gave a sickening smile, one that brought no relief with it. “I brought you back sugar!”

“Dad, let me go.”

He nodded and started to undo your restraints. It couldn’t be this easy. Taking a moment, he was preoccupied with removing the duct tape glue from your arms, as if he cared, you jumped up, running across the room to open the metal door, but it was locked.

“Open the door, dad.”

“Y-you’ll just leave.” He whimpered, face looking offended.

This wasn’t your dad. The eyes were too hopeful and the demeanor was too caring. This was you dad having some sort of a mental breakdown. The pieces came together as you watched the tremors in his hands. Not knowing the man in front of you felt more terrifying than the man you ran away from. Before, you knew somewhere buried deep in his subconscious he would never seriously harm you beyond some bruises. But you stared into eyes you didn’t recognize. It was entirely possible he was going to kill you. All of that mess 8 months ago just to end up dying in Chicago and nobody knows about it.

But that’s where you were wrong.

Within a 25 mile radius…

“Detective Dawson,”

The somewhat uncaring police deputy at St. Paul started running down the situation. There wasn’t much to tell. Your backpack was found in a snowbank near some blood in the snow with you nowhere to be found. Your aunt had been adamant that the deputy at the front desk reach Antonio. And of course, the detective roped his unit into the situation. Voight made it a priority. It didn’t take a psychologist to see that Antonio cared about you, he cared about all his teen CIs. They were his secondary kids. He would find you, even if he hadn’t promised you to do so. He promised himself. When word had come in that your dad had been behind the entire situation it was not much of a shock. A man with a past of petty crime and domestic abuse with mental health concerns did seem like a high probability suspect. He had also rented out a storage container on the industrial side of town. Antonio and his team suited up. He was going to end this situation here and now.

“CHICAGO PD OPEN THE DOOR”

In a frenzied craze, your father throws you to the floor. It would make sense for him to run, but logic wasn’t a key factor right now. His foot goes to your neck and the gun points to your head. The gun must have been on his back, you hadn’t seen it until now.

I don’t want to die.

Not like this.

Not here.

Please no.

Please.

Bursting through the door you make out several people with weapons drawn on your dad. Light floods the dark room leaving the two of you partially blind, yet the tension still filled the air.

“LET HER GO.” It wasn’t a request. It was an order. Regardless, your neck was still being crushed. Air was slowly waning from your lungs. And then it wasn’t. In an instant you felt his foot roll out from over you, giving you a chance to scramble away.

“Y/N, Y/N, it’s ok. We’re police.”

And that was likely the only time anyone from your side of town was happy to hear that phrase. But still, you couldn’t quite comprehend it. It was a full mess of tears, screaming, wailing and shaking. You had been mere seconds from death by gun or choking, you couldn’t just suck it up. Not even you were that badass. Nonetheless, the cops weren’t getting anywhere with calming you down.

“Call an ambo.” Calls another voice, a woman. “Tonio, you ok?”

“Yeah” And under normal circumstances you would have connected the dots, but as it has already been overly reiterated, you were not stable right now. The only thing you could register was the familiar hand on top of yours gently squeezing your arm below.

“Shhh shhh, it’s ok kiddo, we got you. He’s gone.”

Hold it, you know that voice.

And what would you know, you finally grasped it. Staring down at you is Detective Dawson, once again saving your neck, literally. It was probably against some rule, but you just buried your head in his shoulder trying to block out everything outside. He let it slide, just holding you there, seemingly not in any rush to move you till the paramedics arrived. In time you realized the other officer trying to calm you down had been Burgess, but you just hadn’t recognized her. You’re in pain, but not horrendous amounts, must be the adrenaline. Regardless, Antonio calls another officer, Atwater, to carry you outside to the ambulance. Before you know it, the ambo is driving away from the scene to Chicago Med, leaving the Intelligence Unit to deal with the aftermath including Dawson.

Sitting in the ER, you wait for test results to return on your head scan. More had happened in the last 12 hours than in the last 8 months. You realized how much you liked the simplicity and (relative) safety of Minnesota, but now you’d at least carry pepper spray. You’re pulled from your thoughts as you see Dawson peak from the side of the curtains. You had not felt too lonely or afraid before given the officers stationed outside your room, but seeing him made you feel better.

“Hey kiddo, how’s the neck?” he smiles, moving into the room slowly as if he was trying not to scare you.

You smile weakly, still exhausted. “Alright, considering.” You noticed tape on the base of his neck on one side extending underneath his shirt where you couldn’t see. “What happened?”

“I might be getting a little long in the tooth for tackling suspects.” And by suspects, you knew he meant your dad. He was the one who got him off you. “Are you ok?” You ask. “All good, just had to get my shoulder checked out.”

“Ok, glad you’re ok.” And you truly were. You would feel awful if you had been the reason he had been seriously injured, especially after you were supposed to be out of his hair.

He nods, fiddling with his hands on the rail at the end of your bed. “Hey, your aunt is on her way to get you, it’s gonna be awhile, but I talked to your doctor and they said they’ll keep you till she arrives to monitor your concussion.”

You nod. “My dad?”

“We got him, he’s going away for a long time.” You notice his lack of enthusiasm in that response, obviously thinking that justice had not been fully served.

“But not forever.” Your voice soft, barely over a whisper.

He shook his head. “Long enough you’re not going to need to worry about him.”

“But you’ll come rescue me again if he tries, right?” You cocked an eyebrow, knowing it wasn’t a promise he could make, but every reassuring thing he told you made you feel better anyways.

“As much as I love the job, I don’t know if I’m going to be on the force in 40 years.”

“Yeah, you might not be able to a shoot a gun while using a walker with tennis balls on the bottom.” The two of you laugh a bit at that visualization.

As you quiet down you notice he looks a bit more serious.“But yeah, I’ll get you.”

Once again, probably against some protocol, but you just had to reach out and hug him burying your face in his leather jacket. He leans forward to pull you in. Something about it was just natural, you knew he’d protect you, you knew that now.

“Thank you so much. I’d be dead.”

“Of course,” He pets your hair, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“T-thank you for caring.” He pulls back to look you in the eyes.

“I checked your record, no priors since you left. Thank you for being worth it.” He smiles.

The two of you sit there for a minute, staring at each other, his hand still the (good) side of your head. You’d never really had a dad moment like this, but if this was the first and last dad moment you ever had, you were ok with it. It was perfect. He stands up, stretching out his back as if he’s about to leave. But instead, he pulls up a chair.

“You don’t mind if I stick around till your aunt arrives do you?”

You gently shook your head. Truth was, you were too afraid to ask him to do so, but of course, somehow, he knew what you needed. So there the two of you sat. Talking about the extremely normal things you had been involved in back in Minnesota. You swear he kept a small smile on his face the entire time. Just happy to see you moving on. It was done.

When you turned 18, you reached out the Antonio again and asked if he would be willing to meet up for lunch, now that it was “legal” to do so. And now it has become an annual event with occasional bonus trips when you somehow wind up in the Windy City. Your lives may have grown apart in distance but something would always keep the two of you together. He’d always be there for you, and you needed that. Maybe not everyone needs a perfect father figure to survive in the world, but knowing a tough boxing detective would be by your side in one phone call gave you the freedom of safety. Your aunt is an amazing woman, but Antonio Dawson is really the one who you owe everything to.

He promised, you trusted, and it was the first decision of your life that truly mattered.

A/N: I know my presence on this account is sporadic, but I hope some people enjoy this. I’m going to dive into my drafts to work on some of the partially written responses I have for some old requests. (:

#antonio dawson #antonio dawson x reader #Chicago PD #one chicago #antonio dawson imagines #antonio dawson imagine #antonio dawson baby #fanfiction #fandom #fanfic

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sashi-ya · 3 years

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New section, "Spooky Fridays!"

I had to create this mini section on my blog because I have WAY too many stories of spooky events in my life. Most of them related to being on call in the ICU… But what I’d love the most is to be able to read your stories too! So if you want to share them you can do it by:

Posting them with #SashiSpookyFridays and I’ll love to read and reblog them or

Send them to me via an Ask (especially if you want to stay anonymous).

Stories accepted: real stuff that happened to you or family/friends & fics!. They will be posted/shared on Fridays but you can send them whenever you want during the week!

(ps: I’m well aware it’s November and this would have fitted a little better during October, but let’s be honest, spooky stuff happens every day during the whole year, right?)

So, let's open this new section with one of my spookiest stories...

"The Invisible Kids".

That morning I woke up sweaty as hell at 4 am to get ready for my next shift at the hospital. It was Sunday so I had to be careful while driving to work as many stupid shits drove completely drunk from the night before. But it is what it is since my shift starts at 6 am and I have to be at least 30 minutes earlier to get dressed into my scrubs and receive the news from the night shift. Normally, the hospital is already pretty lively at 6 am so during weeks the halls are flooded with people who are already waiting for them to be examined or even for having surgery. But weekends are a whole different story… there is NOBODY around, especially so early. And because I worked at the pediatric ICU at the time I had to walk through a huge -dark- hallway which lights turn on as you walk. So you can imagine I wasn’t able to see shit ahead of me, since the ICU is placed on the -1 ground of the hospital… that means no windows. But, at that point I was pretty used to it (even though I kept my keys in my hand, you know men are scarier than spirits for a lonely woman walking into a dark void of solitude). So as I’m getting to my service I started hearing giggles. “It must be a little patient who is lively today, I’m happy for that baby”. But there was absolutely nobody around. “Maybe it comes from the ICU? That’s weird we only had one little patient and it’s a baby who unfortunately isn’t able to even cry”. And the first touch on my shoulder came. And hell I run without even looking back. I typed the code as fast as I could on the number pad and the doors quickly opened. “MORNING” I salute thinking there were at least 4 of my coworkers. But there was just one of them, he was from the morning shift as me and it was weird for him to arrive that early. “Lean, why are you here so early? Where are the others?”. “Oh I doubled today, I covered the night shift and I’m gonna be with you today since we have no patients” he says, last words with a sad face indicating what usually happens to us during night shift… the death of a patient. So, all in all it was calm after that. There were no patients at all (something pretty weird if you ask me, to have an ICU empty is something once in a lifetime). So the only thing we got to do was basically do some checkups about inventory and stuff like that. Once we were over and played for about 20 minutes trying to fry a paper with the defibrillator (don’t get us wrong, we have to use it every two days to check it’s still working properly so in case we need it it doesn’t fail) we started watching a documentary on the little tv we have about puppies. And while we were sitting enjoying the little cutie pies we started hearing someone calling at us. To be precise a little kid’s voice. “The fuck?” both of us jolted. My friend suggested it was probably the resident coming to scare us. But it wasn’t, he wasn’t there (plus the ICU is not that big and everything can be seen from every angle since we need to keep a watchful eye on every patient). But the kiddo didn’t stop, and now it was giggling. And soon after the giggles one of the little carts with supplies we got at the feet of every bed began to slowly move towards me. Wanna know what happened next? My colleague wasn’t even moving, not even breathing. But, for some reason I stopped feeling scared, and realized it must be one of our patients, maybe the one who died that night. He wasn’t trying to scare us, he was probably saying goodbye and just wanted to play some before leaving. I simply stayed calm and smiled. “Do you wanna play, baby? You can do it here, it’s ok with us”. Same words we usually tell the patients that they feel a little bit better and want something to pass their time while being bedridden. The giggles stopped all of a sudden, and for some reason everything felt calmer soon after.

#SashiSpookyFridays #sashi ya #spooky #spooky stories #terror #horror #one piece #one piece fan fics

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writingsbymarie · 4 years

Text

Butterflies - Rafe Cameron x Reader

Word count: 1,100

Warnings: SO FLUFFY

Request: Can I request a Rafe imagine where you’re babysitting the kids next door and one of them gets out of the house and you to sneak into his yard to find the kid and he catches you

Literally, Rafe is not a good person, but I will continue to write him sweet liked he deserved ti be written anyways

A/n: this request highkey had me crying. I work at a daycare and babysit a bunch so this request just hit different because I miss my kiddos from work :(.

You may have been kook, but things in your house worked a little differently. Not everything was handed to you, and things that weren’t necessary like clothes had to be bought with the money you earned. That meant you had to do something that made you some kind of income. You loved kids, so you became the neighborhood babysitter. It was the start of summer, and you were eighteen. In a couple months, you would be going to college so you wanted to make spending money knowing you wanted new cute clothes for parties. You were currently babysitting two little girls Talia who was six and Thea who was eight. They were pretty easy kids except sometimes they would like to wander off. You were currently in the backyard with the girls, and they were playing on the small playground their parents had built in the yard.

You were pushing Thea on the swings when Talia went running into the neighbor's yard. The neighbor's yard happened to be the Camerons house. You knew them pretty well. Rafe was the grade above you in school, and you had a couple classes with him over the year. You even were lab partners in AP Bio. You were basically acquaintances.

“Talia we need to stay in our yard” you called out, but whatever had caught her eye was apparently much more important than you telling her to stop. You stopped the swing Thea was on, grabbed her hand, and ran after Talia. You yelled after the girl who continued to run through the yard, and she turned a corner. When you and Thea reached the corner you were faced with Rafe who was knelt down talking to Talia. He looked up at you. Your heart rate was elevated, and your breathing rate was up from sprinting, but you were pretty sure the second you made eye contact with him both your breathing and heart had stopped. Rafe was shirtless with black shorts. He was sweaty and some pieces of his honey hair were draped in front of his forehead unlike his usual slicked back look. He smiled at you, and Talia turned around to look at you with a smile you couldn’t yell at.

“She was trying to catch a butterfly,” Rafe laughed as he stood up.

“He flew too high and got away though,” Talia said with a frown.

“Thanks for stopping her Rafe, she just took off, and nearly gave me a heart attack” you laughed looking at the little girl whose eyes were at her feet.

“Anytime” he sad with a wink, and you probably could have passed out. You then bent down to Talia's level.

“You can’t just run off like that without me okay” you breathed putting both your hands on her shoulders.

“I know, I’m sorry I just really wanted to catch that butterfly” she sighed.

“It’s okay, we can try to catch butterflies back in your yard okay?” you smiled, and her face lit up. You grabbed both the girl's hands and started to head back to your yard.

“Hey Rafe thanks again, sorry for bothering you” you apologized again, and he just laughed.

“Like I said before, It’s no problem”

You smiled at him and turned around starting to walk away, but Talia slipped her hand from your grip and ran back to Rafe.

“Talia” you and Thea both groaned.

“Rafe can you come catch butterflies with us too” she beamed at the boy, and your face basically went bright red at the question. Rafe looked up at you, and back at the little girl.

“Talia Rafe has his own things to do” you tried to explain.

“Pleeeeassssse” she begged putting on the cutest smile she could towards Rafe.

“If it's okay with Y/n,” he said shrugging his shoulders. He was bored and didn’t have anything to do.

“Yeah that's fine” you breathed. You had butterflies in your stomach. He grabbed a tank shirt throwing it on, and Talia grabbed his hand, and both of you walked towards the girl's backyard. When the playground was in sight both girls went darting towards before you could say anything, and you didn’t even bother yelling since you were able to see them.

“So you babysit?” Rafe asked as you both walked.

“Oh yeah, my parents refuse to pay for clothes so I have to make money somehow, and I love kids, so it's a win-win in my books” you laughed as you walked towards the playground.

“Smart” he nodded. “I haven’t talked to you since AP Bio, how was senior year”

“Pretty uneventful, but fun” you replied. “How was Freshman year of college”

“The parties are crazy, that's all I gotta say” he laughed.

“Crazier than the parties here?” you asked.

“Surprisingly yes, college kids are insane” you were about to reply when you heard Talia call out.

“Rafe can you push me on the swings” she yelled.

“Of course sweetie” he yelled back, and both of you jogged to the swings. You pushed Thea, and Rafe pushed Talia. You and Rafe made small talk for a while until he had to go and have family dinner, and you had to feed the girls.

“Hey Y/n it was nice talking to you again, we should hang out sometime” he smiled.

“Uh yeah, I would love that” you replied mentally face-palming yourself for saying that you would love to. You felt way too desperate, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“Can I have your number” he questioned, and you felt your heart skip a beat. You were in shock for a second, but you snapped your self out of it giving him a small smile.

“Yeah of course” you replied, and you entered your phone number into his contacts, and you said your goodbyes, and he walked away leaving you and the girls. You waked inside the house with the girls, and the second you got inside Thea squealed.

“You have a crush on him” she taunted, and your face went red.

“Thea I do not have a crush on him” you defended, but she continued.

“You want to kiss him” she giggled.

“Nope no kissing we aren’t talking about kissing nope”

“Rafe and Y/ n sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G” the girls sang, and you put your face into your palms as they sang the song all the way through.

“Alright we are done with this conversation, time for dinner” you chirped grabbing both the girl's hands dragging them to the kitchen so glad you had taken this babysitting job today.

A/n part 2: The end of this is literally what I deal with every day at work anytime I talk to one of my guy coworkers so I put that in because it cracks me up.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #outerbanks #outer banks imagine #john booker routledge #outer banks

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obxfics · 4 years

Text

The Kitchen

summary: as you look for your cousin, you end up enlisting the help of someone with whom you share a mutual dislike

pairing: jj maybank x reader

word count: 1,951

a/n: second pogue fic for choose your own adventure! it has been so long since i updated this series i am so sorry!! i tried to make this different from john b’s part because i dont want every part to seem too similar. once again i’m planning on a part two for jj like with john b! i hope y’all enjoy!

Introduction The Dock

Masterlist Taglist

“I’m checking the kitchen!” you called over your shoulder as you ran back into the club.

Jaime was known to eat everything so it wouldn’t surprise you if he tried to sneak into the kitchen to manipulate some poor busboy into giving him food with that angelic face of his. It worked every time on your parents and your mother’s parents, and they weren’t even his grandparents!

You rounded a corner and slowed your pace as you entered the dining room, making a beeline for the kitchen’s swinging doors. Just as you passed the bar and were about to push open the doors, someone stepped in front of you to block your path. Looking up, you found yourself meeting the cerulean gaze of JJ Maybank. Your heart leapt into your throat as you glared up at him. He didn’t like you, and you didn’t like him, but damn he was pretty. He matched your glare and cleared his throat.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he asked as he put his hands on his hips. “Employees only, sweetheart.”

You scoffed and attempted to glance around him to see if you could catch a glimpse of your baby cousin. JJ quickly moved to block your view every time.

“Hey, would you stop?” He placed his hands on your shoulders to keep you in place. “Why do you want to stick your nose in there anyways?”

You rolled your eyes and sighed. Since he wasn’t going to be letting you step foot in there, you would unfortunately have to enlist his help.

“Did you see a little boy run in there?” you asked as you raised your hand to your waist. “He’s about this tall, curly dark hair, cute little dimples?”

JJ stared at you like you had lost your goddamn mind. You rolled your eyes again and shrugged off his hands, determined to get around him if he wasn’t going to help.

“Whoa, easy, you still can’t go in there,” he huffed as he once again moved to stop you. “Sorry, but I haven’t seen any kids around here. Your kind usually have them at the kids camp by the golf course.”

His eyebrows furrowed when he saw the way you ran a hand down your face. He could tell you were stressed, and suddenly Kie’s voice was whispering in his brain that he needed to stop being an asshole and help you or she would kick his ass.

“This kid you’re looking for, how old is he?”

“Six,” you replied. “He’s my little cousin. Jaime.”

“Hey.” He waited until you met his gaze and then offered you a small smile. “I still can’t let you inside, but I can go in and look. Ask the others if they’ve seen him. Is that okay?”

He could see the exact moment you processed his offer because he literally saw some of the stress in your shoulders leave your body. A smile tugged at your lips and you nodded gratefully. JJ was struck with the realization that you had never actually smiled at him before. Not that he could recall. He could see why Kie liked to hang around with you. When you weren’t glaring at him like he’d personally ruined your entire day, your smile actually filled him with a warm feeling that spread from his belly. Kinda like laying out in the sun on the HMS Pogue.

“That would be great, JJ,” you answered in a soft voice. “Thank you.”

“I’ll be right back.”

You nodded, and he stepped back into the kitchen, scanning the place for the curly haired boy you had described. Sounded like a sweet kid, and if he was related to you, he had to be cute. JJ approached one of the other waiters on his break.

“Hey, bro, you seen a kid around here?” he asked, watching as the poor guy tried to chew and swallow his lunch. “Super small, probably super cute too, I’m not sure. Goes by the name Jaime. His cousin is looking for him.”

Finally his coworker managed to choke down the food and took a quick sip of water before answering, “Check with Anne. I think I saw her take some kid into the office a while ago.”

JJ sighed in relief and smiled. “Thanks, bro. Enjoy your lunch.”

He hurried over to the office where Anne, his boss, usually took her breaks. She was a fair boss, letting JJ take home any leftovers from his shift and checking in if he ever showed up late. It didn’t surprise that she would take in a little kid lost in the kitchen. He knocked on the door before poking his head in. A grin grew on his face when he saw the boy with curly hair and dimpled cheeks sitting in one of the chairs with his little feet swinging.

“Anything I can help you with, JJ?” Anne asked as she looked up.

“Just came to snag the kiddo,” he replied. “His cousin is looking for him. Tried to break into the kitchens to find him,” he joked.

The boy looked over his shoulder at JJ, and the blonde surfer swore he melted at the sight of the dimpled smile that was so much like yours. What was in your gene pool that it produced such warm smiles? JJ blinked and smiled at the kid.

“C’mon, your cousin is worried sick, kiddo.”

Jaime slid off the chair and waved to Anne. “Thank you, Miss Anne!”

“Anytime, little one,” she promised, giving JJ a look that clearly said do not mention this to anyone. “JJ will make sure you get back to your family safe.”

A small hand slipped into JJ’s, and he wanted to scream. He had never really been good with kids, not that he had gotten many chances to interact with them, but he had to admit, they were adorable. The way they would just put so much trust into people, looking up at him with wide eyes and even wider smiles. He could’ve seen himself as a big brother if things had been different.

“Jaime!”

As soon as JJ swung open the doors, you were running over to sweep your little cousin into a warm hug. JJ felt a strange pang in his chest at the sight of the familial love. He briefly wondered what it would feel like to have that. To have his dad worry as much for him as you worried for Jaime.

“You can’t wander off like that, okay?” you told Jaime as you looked him over for any injuries. “Christian and Diego are still out looking for you. Oh, shit, I should text them!” Your eyes widened when you noticed JJ smirk and heard Jaime giggle. “Okay, wait, do not repeat that word. Your parents will kill me.”

Jaime looked up at JJ as you hurriedly typed a text to your brothers so they knew Jaime was found. The boy giggled and smiled, making JJ realize he was already missing some baby teeth. When did kids usually lose those?

“You work here right?” Jaime asked him.

“That’s right, kiddo. I bring people their food.”

His eyes lit up. “Can I have some?”

JJ almost laughed when he saw the way your head snapped to fix Jaime with a stern look.

“Jaime, you can’t just ask him to bring you food! That’s rude,” you hissed before offering JJ an apologetic look. “Besides, JJ is supposed to be serving other people right now.”

“Actually, as of…” he quickly checked his watch before continuing, “two minutes ago, I’m on break. And I could really go for some fries, what do you think, kiddo?”

He could feel his heart swell when he saw how excited Jaime got at the prospect of French fries, but it was over for him when he caught the look you were giving him. Like you were seeing him for the first time. He could feel his ears getting red and ducked his head, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“If it’s okay with you, of course,” he directed at you.

“I… yeah, that’s fine. Thank you.”

You and Jaime took a seat at a table to wait as JJ disappeared into the kitchen again. Jaime looked around at the dining room and the open windows facing the water on one side and the golf course on the other. He still wasn’t used to all the fancy things on Figure Eight.

“Your friend is nice,” Jaime said.

You couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face. “Yeah, I guess he is.”

As JJ spent his break entertaining your cousin, you couldn’t tear your eyes from the pretty blonde. For the longest time the two of you had barely tolerated each other for Kie’s sake, but today he had gone out of his way to help you. And gone out of his way to spend more time with you and Jaime after he had found the little boy. You had been so sure you had JJ Maybank figured out, but you were seeing that maybe you had it all wrong. He was surprisingly sweet and good with kids, and that was doing things to you. Your heart skipped a beat whenever you would catch his eye, and you would quickly look away hoping he hadn’t noticed your staring.

“My break is almost over,” JJ told you regretfully as Jaime munched on one of the last fries left. “Thanks for keeping me company.”

“We have to leave?” Jaime asked with a sad look on his sweet face. “Can we see you again?”

“Yeah I gotta go back to work, but I’ll tell you what,” JJ crouched so he was eye level with Jaime, “I promise that we can hang out again soon. This time when I’m not working. You like surfing?”

“Um… I’ve never tried,” Jaime admitted shyly.

“Hey, then I’ll teach you! That sound good?”

Jaime’s eyes widened, and he practically launched himself at JJ before looking up at you with that puppy dog expression.

“Can I please go surfing with your friend?” he all but begged.

You laughed and shrugged. “I don’t see why not. It’ll give me a break from you giving me heart attacks all the time.”

Jaime let out a squeal and hugged JJ even tighter. JJ let out a quiet gasp and held back the tears that began to form. When was the last time he’d been hugged like this? He couldn’t remember. The little boy pulled back when he heard your brothers call out to you, and he ran over to tell them his exciting news. JJ cleared his throat as he got back up and brushed off his pants. You were giving him that look again, the one that made his ears burn.

“You… you’re something else, Maybank,” you told him before wrapping your arms around him. “Thank you.”

This time he couldn’t help the few tears that escaped him as he returned your hug. You were warm, and he thought he could stay like that his whole goddamn life. You gave him one last squeeze and stepped back, pretending not to notice when he quickly wiped at his cheeks.

“Um, you can ask Kie for my number or I can ask for yours. So you can tell me when you want to teach the little monster.”

“Actually, you, uh… I mean, if you want, you can come too,” he offered, feeling uncharacteristically shy with this shift in your relationship. “I mean, I’d… I’d like it if you came too.”

“Okay. I’ll be looking forward to your text, then.” You surprised him by leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “See you around, JJ.”

Continue Reading Start from the beginning

taglist: @obxlife @infinityspaceuniverse @diverrdown @shawnssongs @kikifromtheblock @stargazingstarkey @scandalousfemale @pheyward @thatjohnd

#outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader #outer banks netflix #obx #obx imagine #obx x reader #obx netflix #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fic

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gubes-sweaters · 4 years

Text

Mind, Body, and Soul 5

Authors note: Hey, so it's been a while oops. I’ve been writing one-shots in between writing chapters 4 and 5 only because I wasn’t sure where to take this series, but I’ve figured it out and now I’m back. I still have 3 or 4 one-shots written that still need to be edited. This chapter has a couple of switches of the POV. Sorry if it’s a little confusing, but it’s the easiest way to write the story. Also, I know Gideon and Rossi didn’t work together in the early season, but I’m changing it. I realize the TL of a lot of the members is off, but it’s all intentional for the story.

Content warning: Nothing I can think of, but don’t be afraid to tell me about a warning I should put in.

Word count: 2.7k

Chapter 5: New Member of the BAU

*ring ring*

I shift under Spencer's grip trying to reach my phone as it's ringing. He’s such a heavy sleeper that by the time I wiggled out from his arms and grabbed my phone he was still sleeping. He just rolled over before snoring very quietly. I look at my phone and see it's my dad! Shit, I was supposed to meet with my dad at ten today and it's already eleven. I'm not even ready this is such a disaster, what am I supposed to tell him? Oh, don’t worry dad I’m just busy because I’m in the back of this guy’s car and I slept through my alarm! He’s going to kill me because I'm supposed to meet some of my dad’s work friends then go out to lunch with him.

“Ciao papà,” I say trying to sound like I'm awake. He can probably see through my bullshit though because I'm a shitty liar, and he's a profiler.

“Where's my bambino and why isn't she at the BAU right now? My colleagues want to meet you.”

“Sorry, I spent all night studying and I must've slept through my alarm I'll be there as soon as possible,” I technically lie to him I did sleep through my alarm.

“Okay...well, I love you. I have a security badge ready for you. All you have to do is tell security who you are and you're here to see me,” He's clearly not convinced but I don't think he cares enough to press the issue.

“Okay, love you too. Bye!” I hang up then turn to Spencer trying to wake him up.

I shake him over and over until he finally stirs. Seriously how the hell does he sleep so heavy. Once I get him up I explain that I’m supposed to have lunch with my dad and I’m supposed to meet his coworkers now that he’s coming out of retirement for whatever reason.

“Okay, yeah give me a second to clean up the back, and we can take you back to your apartment,” He says while rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“Thanks,” I say before planting a gentle kiss on his cheek.

He blushes at me before signaling for me to hop out of the trunk. We make a collaborative effort to clean out the trunk and sit the back seats back up. We then get in the front and make small talk on the way back to my apartment. Once we arrive I feel that pit in my stomach again, the same one I feel every time one of us has to leave.

“Thanks for yesterday!” I say before turning to open the car door with the bear we made yesterday. When I asked who's keeping the bear he jokingly said we’ll split custody and I guess this is my week. Before I could open the car door he placed his hand on my forearm very gently like I was made out of glass. He has this pained and disappointed look on his face.

“Can I see you again?” He asks just barely above a whisper.

I just respond with a nod and a quick kiss before I hop out of the car and wave goodbye. All I see is a wide grin on his face and a wave before I disappear into my apartment building. I knew Stella and Raven weren’t home because neither of their cars was in the parking lot. That meant I could get ready quickly and slip out of the apartment without any questions being asked.

I set the stuffed bear on the bed and begin getting ready. After I shower, dry my hair, brush my teeth, apply a small bit of makeup, and slip on a sweater and jeans I’m finally ready to leave. It’s only one pm, so I'm not making a horrible time given that I was already late. I then practically drive like a mad man to the BAU. I stop at security and tell them I’m here for my dad David Rossi. I get directions to the floor and where my dad’s new office is. I walk into the bullpen and see two very familiar and comforting faces, but the others belong to complete strangers. I immediately spot my dad’s old partner Jason Gideon and the Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner. I met them both when I was in middle school, but the rest of the team was new to me and my dad as well. He’s been there for a couple of months since his book tour was just now ending. As soon as Gideon sees me he walks towards me with his arms outstretched.

“Hey kiddo it’s been a long time. I may be getting old, but I’ll never forget that face.” He says while engulfing me in a hug. Honestly, I talked to Gideon probably more than my dad growing up. This is odd because he didn’t have the best relationship with his own son, but he was always like a cool uncle. Then the same click happened to me and Aaron Hotchner when we first met. He always wanted kids and some of the only times you would see him smile and laugh was around kids. He and his wife Haley jokingly called me their test run when I would spend time with them. When my mom and dad were both busy I spent a lot of time with Haley because I didn’t want to be with a nanny.

“Hey, guys!” I say before hugging them both once more.

“So, how’s school been? You’re not getting into any trouble are you?” Uncle Jason asks before nudging me as the three of us walk towards my dad’s new office. I can see two people’s eyes on me from the bullpen then suddenly a third when a blonde woman who doesn't look much older than me comes strutting out of her office flashing me a quick smile.

“You know me, I’m David Rossi’s daughter, so I seemingly can't stay out of trouble,” I joked with them as we arrived at my dad’s new office. It had a shiny new nameplate that said “David Rossi” on the front of it. Gideon knocks and I feel a wave of nostalgia. I remember in the 6th grade visiting my dad at the BAU and walking up to my dad’s office hand in hand with Gideon. Now I’m much older and much taller, but much hasn’t changed. After a few seconds, my dad opens the door with a huge grin on his face I swear he hasn't changed since I was a kid. He still wears overly expensive suits and a watch that probably would pay a year and a half of my rent if not more.

“Ah, there she is. Oh, how I’ve missed you,” He says before eloping me in a bear hug.

“Come I want you to meet my other co-workers,” He says as the four of us walk back down the stairs where a small conglomeration of desks are.

“Everybody this is my daughter (y/n),” My dad proudly says while the three people went to introduce themselves. The first being the woman walking out of the office earlier. She is tall and blonde. She looks a little young to be a profiler though.

“Hi, I’m Jenifer Jareau, but you’re more than welcome to call me JJ. I’m the communication's liaison,” She says as she sticks her hand out for me to shake. After a woman with dark brown hair and dark brown eyes also extended her hand out to me. She was wearing a tan leather jacket with a black top beneath it and black dress pants along with tan ankle boots.

“Hi I’m Elle Greenway, it’s nice to meet you these three have been talking about you all day,” She says while gesturing towards my dad, uncle Aaron, and uncle Jason. Lastly, a tall very muscular man walks up to me with an awful lot of confidence. He’s wearing a tight heather gray t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Accompanied by his gun sitting snugly on his hip.

“Well Hello I’m Derek Morgan and you must be an angel,” He says forgetting that my dad is standing right behind me either that or he doesn't care. I shake his hand before my dad clears his throat not amused by Morgan's antics.

“Well, now that you’ve met my team it’s about time we went to lunch. Aaron don’t hesitate to call me if something pops up about that DC hacker case,” He says as we walk away and Uncle Aaron just responds with his usual very stern-looking face and a slight nod.

“DC hacker?” I ask as we exit the bullpen and make our way to the elevator.

“Let’s not talk about work. I want to know about school how are you?”

“I’m doing good I guess I've been a little distracted as of recent but I'm keeping myself on track I promise.”

“Atta girl,” He says before the elevator doors open, and he leads me out to his car.

-----Time Skip----

“So how are Raven and Stella I haven't seen them since I went to sign the lease again last year.” I can tell what he’s doing he’s making awkward small talk, so he feels like he's an integral part of my life. I appreciate the effort and I can’t shit on him too much because at least he’s making an effort. So I’ll play into this and make him feel better for the time being. I’m hoping that he doesn't feel like utter crap because we have nothing important to talk about besides this DC hacker case that I can’t get out of my mind. I haven’t talked about it since we were in the car because he clearly doesn’t want me to know anything about it since he keeps dodging my questions.

“They’re doing pretty good. I mean we don’t have any classes together this year because our majors are somewhat different, but we live together, so we're still close.”

“Oh, how's that friend you were telling me about? Penelope Garcia, that's her name right?” He asks as he leans in close to me. If I didn't know any better I would think he's shamelessly profiling me right now. We continue to talk about school and my friends throughout lunch. For someone who has such an extra and boujee person, he didn't talk about himself at all. Which is not my dad's usual behavior at all.

“Well, that's good to hear. So I was thinking after lunch maybe we-” As if God himself answered my prayers my dad's work cell starting ringing. I can hear small mumbles from the blonde woman I met earlier I believe her name was JJ. I can't exactly make out what is going on but either way, I'm taking whatever excuse I can get.

“I’m sorry sweetheart I’m going to have to cut this short that was a call from work. On the bright side, I’m not going to be on my book tour anymore, so whenever I have a day off we can spend time together.”

“Of course!” I say trying to humor him.

“Well, I’ll drop you back off at the FBI building.” He says before flagging down the waitress to pay for the check.

----Rossi’s POV----

I walk back into the FBI building after dropping (y/n) off. Aaron, Gideon, and I feel terrible for using her to get information. I feel the worst out of the three of us because I promised her after going back to the BAU this time would be different, but she's currently just another pawn in a game she didn't agree to.

“So what do we have Aaron?”

“Follow me to the round table we got all of the information needed from another technical analyst in the building Kevin Lynch.”

As Aaron and I walk into the room JJ is giving Gideon, Morgan, and Emily all of the information we need to know.

“This is Penelope Grace Garcia. She is a 28-year-old female. We didn’t have many people to contact for information on her because her birth parents are no longer alive. Her parents passed in a car accident ten years ago that was caused by a drunk driver. Since then she has seemingly lived a low profile life and has managed to stay under the radar when it comes to the justice system. We have been able to get enough evidence on her because of her close relations with David Rossi's daughter (y/n) Rossi. We are going to bring her in for questioning. She’ll likely have no prior knowledge of interrogations because she’s been able to fly under the radar. That also makes her extremely cocky, and she’ll think that we have no information on her. Our job is to be as docile yet forward as possible. We want to be docile, so she’ll trust. She has so much skill that Strauss approved for us to recruit her into the BAU. She’ll be of more use to us than she would be in jail. That’s all for now.”

As JJ finishes with the profile we all gather our things and mentally prepare ourselves for the interrogation. I was advised to stay out of it just in case she knew I was (y/n)’s father. Given the fact that she’s an elite hacker that isn’t such a farfetched statement.

-Hotch’s POV-

“You have two options either you can serve jail time or you can work for us at the BAU,” I tell her just before Morgan walks back into the room.

I have her make a quick resume, so we can hire her onto the BAU. I think she has potential and that she’s just putting up a tough front. I have to give her props though because I’ve seen grown men crumble a lot easier than her. Once we’re able to strike a deal with her I have Morgan unlock her cuffs. I make sure Morgan knows to tell her that she can’t talk about any of this with (y/n) for a while especially since the case involving her isn’t fully closed.

-(y/n) POV-

I finally make it back to my apartment when I get a text from my mom asking how lunch with my dad went. As I unlock the door to my apartment I text her back and let her know that it was okay, but dad was acting super weird. I told her it seemed like he was interrogating me. She just let me know that it’s out of habit because he’s a profiler and it’s not that big of a deal and to not read too much into it.

I feel like there was something that I had to do but I can't remember. It’s not until I check the calendar on my phone and realize Daisy’s birthday is in two days and I didn’t get her anything. I’m far too lazy to leave my apartment for a second time today which was supposed to be my day off. I also don’t want to go alone maybe I should text Spencer and see how busy he is.

Me: Hey, I have a birthday party to go to on Saturday. I still need to get her a birthday present would you mind coming with me tomorrow?

Spence: Sure, what time should I pick you up?

Me: How about 10?

Spence: Sounds good I’ll see you then :)

Taglist: @haylaansmi @rexorangecouny

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid au #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds smut #plug spencer #spencer reid fanfic #plug!spencer fanfiction #plug!spencer #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst

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lyssismagical · 4 years

Note

Could you write a prompt for Peter having a bad mental health day and Tony being there for him?

Peter doesn’t have bad days frequently. Not anymore, at least. Spider-Man has been the greatest outlet for all the dark clouds, and he rarely ever has the time to think, let alone fall into the bad.

If he doesn’t think too much, the thoughts, the bad thoughts, don’t have the time to chance to prey. They don’t have the chance to dig their claws into his chest and drag him down.

So when winter hits, worse than it normally does, and his heater breaks after he takes a tumble into the river again, Tony forbids him from patrolling for a week.

A week over winter break, without homework or Spider-Man. He can’t even use Ned as a distraction because he takes a vacation to Hawaii with his family every winter break. Even MJ, who’s notoriously unoccupied, always prepared to stitch Peter up whenever he shows up on her fire escape, even she’s busy. Her dad took her on a road trip to Florida to get away from the nasty New York snow.

And as though the universe doesn’t hate him enough, May offered to take up a bunch of shifts at the hospital to give her coworkers some time off over winter break. Meaning Peter’s at Tony’s for the whole week with just his thoughts to keep him company.

So when Tony slips into his room at nearly two in the afternoon, he’s really not surprised to find the heaviness that curls around his chest has returned, the ache behind his eyes has returned, and his throat feels clogged with apologies for ending up back here, back in this dark pit he sometimes stumbles into.

“Hey, kiddo. Friday told me you were up and I kinda figured this was some sort of teenager thing to stay in bed until the afternoon, but I was a little worried when you didn’t come down for any lab time,” Tony explains as he sits down on the edge of Peter’s bed.

Every ounce of effort has disappeared, lost somewhere in the wreckage left behind. The silence that creeps along makes the apologies swell in his throat, threatening to spill out in a mess of uncertainty and fear, he’s sure he’d be apologizing for the wrong things anyways.

“You okay?” Tony asks. He leans down to gently brush a curl off Peter’s forehead, touch careful but warm and easy. “You being quiet is never a good thing in my books.”

“I’m sorry,” Peter says. There’s a lot to be sorry for. “I’m really sorry.”

He wants to apologize for everything. Everything from the time he spilt ice cream on his mom’s pretty yellow dress to Ben’s death to failing Tony time and time again to now for not being enough.

None of that comes out. Instead, he just stares, listless and unfocused, at the wall behind Tony. It’s still grey, not having been painted a nicer color since it changed from a guest room to Peter’s room. There’s an old Iron Man poster thumbtacked to the wall, corners curling in and color fading.

Peter thinks about how he’s just like that poster, curling into himself and fading.

“What’s going on, kid? You’re not hiding any injuries from me, are you?”

Peter wonders if that would be better. If injuries, if making the internal pain external, if turning the invisible visible, if that would be better, if that would change the outcomes.

He shakes his head anyways because he can’t really feel, let alone hurt.

This, though, makes Tony’s shoulders droop a little bit, a quiet hum escaping him like this is worse.

“Bad day?” Tony guesses.

It’s like a secret code.

He remembers Ben saying that after Peter’s parents died. Ben used to lie on the couch somedays, unkempt and tired more than anything. May would brush back his hair, plant a kiss on his forehead like she had the magic touch of true love that would fix Ben up, and she’d ask Bad Day?

Peter picked it up, he supposes, because he used to do the same to May after Ben died. He was too young to carry the weight on his shoulders, but May was too tired to do it, so he wasn’t given a choice. He went out as Spider-Man and he did his homework, he’d buy takeout and do the chores, he even learned how to do the laundry to keep the weight off May’s back.

When he’d get home to find her curled up on their old couch, quilt tucked around her shoulders, and old gameshow reruns muted on the TV, he’d brush back her hair, plant a kiss on her forehead, and ask Bad Day?

Tony, on the other hand, doesn’t kiss his forehead. Peter’s too old to believe in the magic of true love’s kiss with its capabilities to fix anything, anyway.

“Yeah.” Peter’s voice is hoarse and scratchy when it comes out, and he wants to draw the word back in as soon as it’s in the air. He’s used to lying when it comes to questions like that, used to bearing the weight on his shoulders, used to asking the question not answering.

“Oh, buddy.”

Tony manages to sound sadder now than he did a few nights before when he’d fished Peter out of the Hudson.

“I’m sorry,” Peter repeats, a broken record of apologies.

Tony shakes his head, slipping into the space beside Peter, laying down with their sides touching from their shoulders to their knees.

This changes everything. It throws the entire universe of sorry’s and bad day’s and repetition offbeat. Instead of forcing him out of his safe haven, Tony’s simply joining him.

It’s not about trying to drag him out of the dark pit he’s dropped into, it’s just keeping him company in his misery.

“You wanna talk about it?” Tony says eventually, after the silence has settled and time had started to blur.

Peter blinks a few times, slowly and pointlessly, like he used to do back when he still needed glasses and wasn’t wearing them. Tony nudges him in the ribs a little bit when Peter takes too long to answer.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Anything you want. Pepper always got me to talk about it, there was always something, you know? Once it’s off your chest, it’s easier to deal with.”

There’s so many things Peter could say, so many admissions, so many apologies. His mouth stays shut, though. There’s so many, but none of them are the right ones to pick.

On one hand, nothing causes these days, there’s no reason for Peter to have fallen again, but, on the other hand, it could easily be argued that it’s the buildup of everything that’s caused it.

Either way, words aren’t particularly easy.

“Thank you,” Peter says because it’s the last coherent thought he’s had, the only thing that bounces around his head amongst the sea of apologies. “For- For being here, for doing this. I, uh, I’m sorry.”

Tony, instead of answering or trying any of the pointless pep talks or attempting words of comfort, he takes Peter’s hand in his.

Eventually, Tony will drag Peter out of bed. They’ll go to a nearby all-day breakfast place in their pajamas at four in the afternoon. Tony will tell the corniest dad jokes he can come up and Peter will eat all the pancakes he can, movements becoming less mechanical and more subconscious, eyes sparking with light. By the time they get home, it might as well be dinnertime, but Tony puts on Lilo and Stitch instead and digs some ice cream out of the freezer, Blue Raspberry Spider-Man with his signature red and blue colors, and they’ll curl up on the couch together. Peter will talk about all the whys and they’ll properly make an attempt to fix all of it.

For now, though, it’s enough for Tony to run his thumb over Peter’s knuckles and for Peter to let his head fall onto Tony’s shoulder.

It’s enough to lay side by side in Peter’s safe haven until he’s ready to face getting up.

It’s enough to simply have company in his misery.

Taglist: @littlemissagrafina @spideygirl2003 @romeoandjulietyouwish @c-artara @shadedrose01 @likeaphoenix13 @pj-hermes-tonystark-obsessed @you-get-killed-walk-it-off @kitkatwinchester @emo-girl10

#lyss answers #lyss writes #this is kinda messy but i'm writing with a migraine at 5am so??#oops can you tell this is a vent fic #unrelated but my eye has been twitching for nearly three months and im losing my mind please #irondad #irondad fic #Irondad and Spiderson #spiderson #tony stark #peter parker #irondad fanfiction

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sentient-stove · 4 years

Text

Cartilage

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Characters: Virgil, Patton, Remy, Roman, Logan, Emile

Relationships: Roman/Remy/Emile, Familial Analogical, Familial Princxiety

Additional tags: hospitals, human au, autistic virgil, therapist emile, car accidents.

TW: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH

Summary: Roman finds a teen during a traumatic event. He adopts him basically.

Word Count: 2914

Notes: I didn’t kill virgil this time. (I have track record of doing that)

AO3

“Prince, we need a nurse in trauma room one, go!”

Roman looked up and nodded, speed walking to the trauma room, running into an anesthesiologist, who was flipping through a tablet.

“Do you know who’s in there?”

“No, but there was a bad wreck on I-37, father and son are coming in, it should be one of them.” She turned.

Roman nodded and they broke apart, with her heading to the other trauma room and Roman going to wash and put on the sterilized gear. He was getting inside the room right as two paramedics came wheeling in a teen on a stretcher.

“Fractured ribs and possible collapsed lung, he’ll need surgery.” One said and Roman nodded, helping transfer him to the table.

The room was dead silent as nurses and doctors worked, Roman quietly helping as the lung was reinflated and they stitched up a few smaller cuts on his face and chest.

When it was all over, Roman helped transfer him into a room.

“What’s his name?”

“Virgil Alt, fourteen.” The other nurse said as he wrote it down and placed the clipboard in it’s holder at the edge of the bed. “His father died while in surgery.”

Roman looked at the small body, swamped by machines and bandages. “Poor thing.”

“CPS will probably be here once he wakes up…” The nurse trailed off.

…

Two hours earlier

“Dad?”

“Yes Virgil?” “Isn’t it kinda dangerous to be driving in the snow? I mean, we did have a snow day because of it.” Virgil looked up from his seat on the passenger side.

Logan sighed. “We’ve talked over this before. The roads have been cleared now, and I wouldn’t be taking us anywhere if I wasn’t absolutely certain that we would be in danger.”

Virgil nodded and turned the radio on. “Sorry for being nervous.”

“It’s perfectly fine to show concern. It is late at night and there has been an increase in car accidents.”

Virgil hummed and pulled a rubix cube from his hoodie, relaxing as Logan snuck a glance at his son.

“I love you Virgil.”

“I know Dad, you get so sappy at the most random times.” Virgil didn’t look up at his cube and Logan smiled before returning his gaze to the road.

Sure, it was dark and late, but they would be fine.

Unfortunately the semi that hit the patch of black ice would prove otherwise.

...

Roman got home around midnight, quietly creeping to the bedroom that he shared with his husbands, being careful as he got changed out of his scrubs and climbed into bed to join Remy and Emile.

Both were already asleep, thankfully, Roman hated it when they waited up for him and so he threw an arm over Remy and pulled the comforter back over him as his breathing settled.

Poor kid. Roman wished that he could get out the thought, he’d seen plenty of people die during his time as a nurse, but this was his first time with a child losing his family.

Hopefully he had another relative that he would wake up to.

…

Virgil woke up in extreme pain, head feeling fuzzy as he attempted to sit up, only to have a hand at his shoulder, gently pushing him back.

“Hey kiddo. You had a bit of a rough night, so you need to lay back, okay?”

Virgil nodded. “Where am I?” He turned his head to see a cheery looking man with curly hair writing something down.

“Hospital. You got into a bad wreck last night. We had to fix your lungs and give you some stitches.”

Virgil could vaguely remember last night and he blinked slowly. “Where’s my dad?”

The man pursed his lips. “I’m not sure. Probably in a separate recovery room. I’ll have to ask around.”

Virgil nodded and settled back. “Everything hurts.”

“We’ll get you some medicine, okay?”

“Thank you.”

“Just doing my job kiddo. You’ll be back to normal in no time.” The man smiled softly. “I’m Patton.”

“Thank you Patton.”

…

Roman danced around the kitchen, Remy sneaking from his spot on the counter and Emile already sitting at their table, the only one completely ready for the day as he took a drink of his tea.

“I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream!” Roman sang as he approached Remy and tapped him on the nose.

“Ew babes, you know I hate the mushy stuff.”

“That’s not what you said this morning when you were trying to convince Emile to not get out of bed.” Roman teased as he turned back to the stove and flipped the French Toast that he was making.

“It was cold!” Remy complained and Roman gave an easy laugh.

“Sure love.”

Remy stuck out his tongue at him, before moodily picking up his coffee and taking a sip.

“Ro, what shift do you have today?” Emile called.

“Noon to five.” Roman put the French Toast on a plate and handed it to Remy, dipping the next two slices of bread into the egg mixture he had.

“I get off at six, should we do a date night tonight?” Emile looked at the pair and Remy nodded.

“I just have to email a few people and then I’m done with work, so I can do the planning if you guys are okay with that.”

Roman flipped the toast again. “Sounds great.”

…

Patton sighed quietly once Virgil fell back asleep. He didn’t want to be the one to break it to the teen that he was alone in the world now.

Lying to him was wrong, but he didn’t know what else to do. Patton checked the vitals again before leaving the room, nearly running into a fellow nurse, Roman.

“Hey Popstar!” Roman smiled at him as he sidestepped and Patton gave him a weak grin back.

“Hey Ro.”

“Is the kid okay?”

“For now, we still haven’t broken the news to him though… I don’t want to be the one to do it.”

Patton sniffed a bit and Roman held out his arms, welcoming the other into his embrace. “It’ll be alright, he has family to take care of him.”

Patton shook his head. “No he doesn’t. It’s just him and his dad.”

Roman exhaled slowly. “Oh.”

…

Virgil decided that he didn’t like the hospital. No one was telling him where his dad was, most people just gave him sad looks and said that they didn’t know where he was.

So he took it into his own hands after the nurse left him, saying that she’d be back if he needed anything.

He kicked away the tight sheets and winced as the pain in his ribs flared as he moved to stand. Virgil didn’t let that deter him though as he pulled the IV along with him, being careful as he detached everything else like how he’d seen the nurse do when she let him have a bathroom break. Nothing went off, which was good, and Virgil walked unsteadily to the door of his hospital room and pushed it open, the IV rolling next to him.

The hallway was surprisingly empty as the teen wandered down in, looking through the windows of every room as he looked for his father.

“Dad?” Nothing. Virgil took a deep breath as he turned down another hall, bare feet quiet on the cool floor.

He was passing another door when a nurse came out, looking startled. “Hey, what are you doing up little guy?”

Virgil tilted his head to the side. “Looking for my dad, his name’s Logan Alt and people keep telling me he’s here but not where.”

The nurse’s face crumpled. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

…

Roman was finishing up with a patient when a scream rocked the floor that he was on, a horrible, heart wrenching thing that clearly communicated that whoever was the source was in pain.

He rushed out into the hall, looking for the source and seeing that one of his coworkers was trying to hold down a thrashing child as the kid screamed.

Not a child.

Virgil.

He must have found out about his father. Roman hurried over to the other nurse and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“If you keep trying to hold him down, he could collapse a lung again.”

Virgil screamed again as the nurse let go and he curled up into a ball, still sobbing as the screaming died down. Roman reached out a tentative hand to rest on Virgil’s collarbone.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” Virgil yelled and Roman recoiled, an apology on his lips as he backtracked in his mind.

Virgil shuddered and let out another sob as a few more nurses entered the hall, seeing the three people on the ground. Patton was among them and Roman watched as the teen’s eyes locked onto the nurse.

“You lied to me! You said he was okay!” Virgil struggled to sit up as he pointed. “You said “You’ll be back to normal.” and my dad’s dead now!”

Roman could feel the tension as if it was another person, and Patton’s eyes filled with tears.

“I’m sorry kiddo…”

“STOP! I DON’T LIKE LIARS!!!” Virgil screamed and then the solution to the problem practically slapped Roman in the face.

“Virgil. Look at me.”

The teen let out a shuddering breath and turned his head to Roman, refusing eye contact. Roman reached out his hands, keeping his palms up.

“We’re gonna count to ten, together okay?”

“I don’t want to…”

“Please? We need to make sure that you can breathe. I’ll start. One.”

“Tt..two.” Virgil stuttered out as gasping sobs ran through him. Roman smiled softly.

“Good job. Three.”

“Four.”

Virgil crawled a bit closer, still avoiding eye contact as he took more breaths. “Five.”

“Six.”

Virgil placed his hands on top of Roman’s, looking at the wedding band that the man had on. “Seven.”

“Almost there Virgil. Eight.”

“Nine.”

“And ten.” Roman exhaled and gently wrapped his hands around Virgil’s “Can I help you walk back to your room, I don’t want you to get anymore hurt.”

“Okay…”

Roman helped him stand and then pulled the IV out of his arm carefully. “Do you want me to hold your hand?”

“Yeah… Really tight though, please?”

“Of course.” Roman tightly gripped Virgil’s hand. “Any other touch no’s that we need to know?”

Virgil silently shook his head, and Roman noted that there were still tears streaming down his face as the nurse led him back to his room. He helped him back into the bed and hooked him up.

“Did you get out yourself?”

“Yeah.”

Roman whistled. “Impressive kiddo.”

“Don’t call me that.” Virgil's voice was sharp and Roman nodded. “It’s okay, I’m sorry.”

“Liar called me that, why did he lie to me?” Roman looked up to see that the teen was making eye contact, storm grey eyes filled with misery and hurt.

“I don’t think that Patton meant to hurt you Virgil.”

Virgil hissed and looked away again, starting to cry again. “My dad’s not coming back…”

Roman finished with the replacement IV and reached forward to card a soothing hand through Virgil’s hair. “I’ll make sure that you’re taken care of, promise. I know that your dad can’t come back, but there’s a lot of people here that care about you.”

“Promise?”

“Yes.”

…

Emile and Remy both got calls from their husband that he wouldn’t be able to come home in time for the date and that he had something to discuss with them when he did.

Naturally both were concerned and waited up for Roman to return, which he did around eleven thirty, not surprised to see them both on the couch.

“Hey loves.”

“Is everything okay Ro?” Remy asked as Roman sat down in the beanbag, instead of going to the couch.

“Not really. Bad work stuff.”

“What happened?” Emile said as he leaned forward and offered his husband a tissue.

“There was a bad car wreck yesterday night, father and son got plowed off of the road by a semi… Uh, the father died.”

Remy gasped and Roman sniffed, wiping at his tears. “We were all trying to figure out how to tell him and he didn’t take it well. I’ve never heard such a heartbreaking scream. No relatives and he’s slightly autistic and I promised that I’d make sure he was safe. I can’t break that.” Roman started to cry as Remy and Emile got off the couch, wrapping their husband in a hug as he sobbed.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Remy soothed as he pressed a kiss to Roman’s hairline. “We’ll do anything to help, okay?”

Emile nodded. “If he needs a home, you know that we’ll give him the best one he can get.”

Roman let out a watery laugh. “Seas and stars, I love you two so damn much.”

“I should hope so, you fucking married me.” Remy responded.

…

Virgil hated change.

New house, new people feeding him and new smells hit him all at once when Roman finally said he could leave the hospital.

He didn’t like Patton still, but he promised not to hiss at the nurse when he came in anymore.

Some weird lady had led him out of the hospital, saying that she was part of the government and that Virgil could call her ‘mom’ if he wanted to.

He didn’t.

She had taken him to Dad’s and his house, and he had had an hour to pack all of his stuff.

Someone else would take Dad’s stuff, but Virgil had managed to take Dad’s favorite tie and his book collection with him.

Now he was sitting in the lady’s car as she chattered happily about something that he wasn’t paying attention to.

He wanted Dad. Dad smelled like books and he let Virgil learn about stars and sailor culture, and taught him how to use rubix cubes.

But Dad wasn’t an option anymore. The lady had told Virgil that there was gonna be a funeral on Saturday and then after that, he was going to meet his new family.

Virgil tucked his head against his chest and quietly let himself cry.

... Emile was nervous as he adjusted his tie and sweater again, looking at the door.

“Babes, con calma, they’re not going to be here for at least another ten minutes.”

It was Saturday afternoon and Roman had gotten a call that Virgil would be arriving with a social worker within the hour and so Emile had made sure that everything was as calming as it could be.

The poor kid, having to go to a funeral and then change houses all in the same day.

There was a knock and Emile surged forward, pausing before he could fling the door open.

“Ro, they’re here!”

“Okay! I’m coming down!” Emile opened the door to see the social worker, with Virgil behind her, slouched over as if he was trying to take up as little space as possible.

“Roman?” The social worker grinned and Emile let out a nervous laugh.

“Ah no, that’s my husband. I’m Emile.”

“My apologies. May we come in?”

Emile turned to the side and let them in, smiling softly at Virgil, who pointedly looked away after making eye contact.

“Roman?”

“Nah, I’m Remy, Roman’s other spouse. Take a seat on the couch, Roman will be down in a minute.”

Virgil didn’t sit and Emile sat next to Remy as Roman came downstairs, beaming at Virgil.

“Spiderling!”

Much to the shock of the social worker, Virgil set down his back pack and walked over to Roman, holding up his arms. The nurse picked up the fourteen year old with ease and hugged him tight.

“I missed you.”

“It’s only been five days, seven hours and thirteen minutes.” Virgil said back as Roman put him down, although he still clung close.

The social worker cleared her throat. “You three just need to sign a few papers and then I’ll do monthly check ups to make sure you’re fit to be parents.”

“Thank you.”

…

It wasn’t perfect.

Virgil still held a lot of trauma from what had happened and he had to go to a therapist that wasn’t Emile so that it would be more effective.

But Roman would always admit to crying the first time that Virgil called him Dad. And even though it was mutually agreed that Logan was always going to be Virgil’s real dad and that he wouldn’t have to feel obligated to call any of his adopted parents that, somehow, over the course of the next year, Virgil warmed up to them.

There were always bad times, and they stopped celebrating Christmas, due to the time of year that the accident happened, but they always made it through.

Remy ended up teaching Virgil about latte art, which became a heavy fixation of their son’s, leading to lots of coffees with too much cinnamon when he messed up, or the most glorious cup you had ever seen depending on if it went well.

Emile and Virgil bonded over Saturday morning cartoons and sugary cereal, and he was the first one that Virgil accidentally called Mom.

Emile liked it and so it stuck.

Roman was the one who spent the most time with Virgil and as the teen grew up, he was grateful to have someone that had spent the time to find out everything he could about Logan, making sure that his Dad wasn’t ever forgotten. Roman never broke his promise.

He kept Virgil safe.

#sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides #roman sanders #logan sanders #roman/emile/remy #remy sanders #cartoon therapy emile #virgil sanders #patton sanders #major character death #fanfic

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thewidowsghost · 4 years

Text

Fox - Chapter 8

Previously on Fox:

While he is asleep, they end up in Malibu. "Hey, Clint," (Y/n) says, nudging the blond archer, and he jolts awake, looking around.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

"Nothing, we're here," (Y/n) says and Clint nods.

3rd Person POV

Clint radios into the airport and they give him clearance to land, and he lands the Quinjet. (Y/n) grabs her guitar and suitcase for the third time that day and the two walk off the jet.

"Clint, can you grab my phone out of the front pocket of my guitar case," (Y/n) asks and he complies, handing her her iPhone and she sets down her suitcase. She dials Pepper's number and waits for a moment, then it picks up. "Pep, I'm in Malibu, are you here?" she asks.

"Yeah, where are you?" Pepper answers and (Y/n) perks up.

(Y/n) glances at Clint before answering, "I was flown in on a private jet."

"Oh!" Pepper says. "I wasn't expecting that, I'll see you soon," she says. "Bye!" she says and she hangs up the phone.

"My dad's friend should be here in a few minutes," (Y/n) tells Clint, slipping her phone into her back pocket.

"So, what do you think my first mission will be?" (Y/n) asks Clint, making conversation until Pepper arrives.

"I don't know," he answers. "My first mission was a stealth mission, but Fury might have you do something bigger since you've been on missions for the Air Force before."

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense," (Y/n) answers.

(Y/n) looks around and catches sight of Pepper's auburn hair. "Hey, there she is," (Y/n) says, and Clint hands her her suitcase. "Thanks Clint," (Y/n) says, smiling up at the archer.

(Y/n) walks across the airport, Clint following, and Pepper catches sight of her, walking towards the (H/C) haired woman. "(Y/n)!" Pepper says, wrapping the girl in a hug. "You look so old now!" she exclaims, breaking from the hug to study her.

"Hey Pepper," (Y/n) says, smiling.

"Who's this?" Pepper asks, studying Clint.

"Oh, this is my new coworker," (Y/n) explains, Pepper still looking confused. "I'll explain in the car."

"Hey, (Y/n)," Clint says, and the (E/C) eyed woman turns to the archer.

"Hmm," she hums in reply.

He pulls her into a hug and whispers in her ear, "You can't tell her about SHIELD."

"I wasn't going to," she murmurs back, breaking from the hug.

"See you next Wednesday?" Clint asks.

"New Mexico, right?" (Y/n) asks and Clint nods. "Yep, I'll see you soon."

"We'll get you a jet," he says, and Pepper begins to look more confused at Clint's words.

"Okay, bye, Clint," (Y/n) says and Clint waves, turning back towards the exit, and towards the Quinjet.

(Y/n)'s POV

"Sorry about that," I tell Pepper. "Work stuff," she laughs and the two of us walk out to one of Dad's cars. "How's Dad been since I've left?" I ask.

"He's been locked up in his lab," Pepper answers and I groan as we get into the car.

"He needs to not," I say and Pepper laughs. "I guess it's good for the surprise," I add and she nods, starting the car.

"So, what was that whole thing about?" Pepper asks.

"The day I called you, someone came by asking me about a job because I had been in the military. I accepted and he's my new partner," I explain and Pepper looks less confused.

"So, when we get home, I'm going to put my stuff in my room, then come down to make dinner," I say and Pepper's eyes brighten. "Should I make tacos, just like when I first came to live with Dad?" I ask and Pepper nods.

"I love that idea," she says.

The two of us sit in a comfortable silence as Pepper drives to Dad's mansion.

We get to the driveway and I quietly walk up the stairs, hanging my guitar on it's hook on the wall and throwing my suitcase onto the bed.

Unzipping the suitcase, I pull out a Air Force t-shirt and a brown leather jacket with my last name on the back and a Air Force patch on the left upper arm - both from my former CO, Ryan. I quickly change my shirt, and pull the jacket on before jogging back downstairs.

I walk over to the kitchen to see Pepper already dicing tomatoes. "This seems strangely familiar," I say and she laughs.

"I like the jacket," she says, as I walk over to the fridge, pulling out some beef.

"It was a gift from my former Commanding Officer," I tell Pepper, beginning to brown the beef in a cast iron skillet.

It takes about ten minutes, but with Pepper's help, we finish making the tacos and shred the lettuce. Putting it on three plates, Pepper and I take them to the dining room.

"Hey, I've got an idea," I tell Pepper and she looks over at me. "Go and bring Dad upstairs and I'll just walk down the stairs," I say and Pepper nods.

"I think he'll like that," Pepper tells the (H/C) haired woman, and (Y/n) walks out of the dining room and jogs up the stairs to her room. Remembering something, she walks towards her closet and digs through it, finding the box buried in the deep recesses of her closet. She pulls it out, opening it and staring at the manila folder inside. Shaking her head, she closes the wooden box and slides it back inside the closet.

Standing at her door, she hears her father ask, "What are there three plates for? Is someone coming over?"

"Just wait a minute Tony," Pepper says and (Y/n) takes that as her cue to come downstairs. She jog down the stairs and walk silently and lean on the trim of the dining room door.

(Y/N)'s POV

Pepper - standing in front of Dad - points behind him and he turns around. His brown eyes widen as he looks at me and he rushes over, pulling me into the hug.

"Hey, Dad," I say, my voice muffled because of his AC-DC shirt.

"What are you doing here?" He asks, pulling away from the hug. Seeing my expression, he hastily adds, "Not that I'm not happy to see you."

I cross my arms. "I figured I'd come see you before I have to start my job in New Mexico on Wednesday."

"Why don't we sit down for dinner and she can tell us everything," Pepper suggests and Dad and I nod, sitting down at the table.

The three of us talk all throughout dinner. I tell them about my time in the Air Force and limited details about my job with SHIELD.

After dinner, I help Pepper wash the dishes and after that, Dad pulls me down to his lab.

"I want to give you something that Pepper and I found for you," Dad says. "We were going to give it to you when got home."

"What is it?" (Y/n) asks, looking interestingly around.

Dad grabs my hand and leads me towards the garage part of his lab and to where something is wrapped in the back corner.

"Open it," Dad says eagerly.

I walk over and tear the paper off the rather large package. I open the box once I tear all the paper off and I see a new guitar. It was beautiful galaxy looking guitar.

"Pepper and I though that since you have a galaxy viola, you should have a guitar that matches," Dad says.

"I love it, thanks Dad," I sit in a chair, studying the guitar.

After a few minutes, Dad and I walk back upstairs and I go to find Pepper.

"Thanks for the guitar Pepper," I tell the blue-eyed woman and she smiles.

"No problem," she says cheerfully.

I go up to my room, and when I get there, my phone rings. Glancing at the caller ID, I see that it's Laura, and I smile.

"Hey Laura," I say, answering the phone.

"Hey (Y/n), how was the flight?" she asks.

"Oh, it was fine," I tell her.

"That's good! There's some people here who want to say hello," Laura says.

It goes silent for a few seconds and then I hear Cooper's voice. "Hi, Auntie (Y/n)," he says excitedly.

"Hey Coop, how you doing?" I ask the excited three year old.

"Good, I miss you already," he complains.

I laugh. "I'll see you soon, bud," I tell him. "Hey, is your sister around?" I ask.

"Yeah, she wants to talk to you," Coop says, and he presumably hands the phone to his sister.

"Hey Auntie," Lila says.

"Hey kiddo, how you doing?" I ask.

"Good!" she answers.

We talk for a few minutes before Lila says, "Mommy wants to talk to you now."

"Thanks for talking to the kids (Y/n)," Laura says. "They were missing you all day," she says and I laugh. "Clint actually wanted a word with you. Something about work," she says.

"Hey (Y/n),"I hear Clint say. "I got a hold with Fury and he's going to send you a Quinjet on Tuesday and have it land where where we landed today. Fury says to get here early Wednesday because he is going to send me and you on a mission."

"Alright," I say, waiting for Clint to speak again.

"I recommend you leave around noon on Tuesday," he says.

"Alrighty, see you then Clint," I say and the call ends.

A couple of minutes after talking with Clint, the phone rings again.

"Hello?" I ask questioningly, not recognizing the number

"Stark, this is Agent Phil Coulson of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division," the man says. "We need you to come in now," he says.

"I don't have any way to get there now," I tell Coulson.

"We're sending you a Quinjet right now," he tells me. "We have an urgent mission that needs to be taken care of now. We're getting Barton to come in as well. There'll be a uniform on the jet, and you need to change into it. Bring a change of clothes," he adds.

"Okay, I'll make my way to the airport," I tell him.

"See you soon Agent," he says and ends the call.

"Pepper!" I call, running down the stairs.

"Yeah," she answers, sitting on the living room couch, working on some paperwork.

"They need me at work tomorrow morning instead, can you take me to the airport again?" I ask sheepishly.

"Sure," she says, standing up.

"Thanks, Pep," I tell the auburn haired woman darting back upstairs and grab my unpacked suitcase.

I run outside with my suitcase and jump in the car Pepper had just started.

"Why do they need you to come in tomorrow?" Pepper asks.

"Big business opportunity and they want everyone there," I say, remembering again that I wasn't allowed to say anything about missions to people not of SHIELD.

Pepper gets me to the airport in about ten minutes. "Tell Dad I'm sorry I couldn't spend as much time with him as we had hoped," I tell Pepper as I get out of the car, bending down to look into the window.

"I will, I hope I'll see you soon," Pepper says and I wave as she drives away.

"Okay, okay," I say softly walking through the airport and looking through one of the windows, I see a similar Quinjet to the one I had piloted with Clint land on an empty tarmac.

I walk out towards the Quinjet and I am met with two people. One was a woman, about five foot seven, with short brown hair and blue eyes and the other is a man, about six feet tall, with brown hair and blue eyes.

"Hello, I'm -" I begin, but the woman interupts.

"Captain, we know who you are," she says. "I'm Agent Maria Hill and this is Agent Phil Coulson," Maria says and I shake their hands.

"Let's get on the jet," Coulson says, and the three of us walk onto the jet.

"Go change into this," Maria says handing me a uniform, and I go to the storage area of the ship and change into the uniform. It was a black, skin tight stealth suit with a SHIELD patch on the right shoulder, and an Air Force patch on the other shoulder, and a pair of combat boots.

(A/N: Above is the Air Force Patch. For the suit, imagine Nat's SHIELD combat suit)

Once I change, I shove my other clothes and Converse into my suitcase and walk back out to stand behind Coulson and Hill.

"We'll be at base in about half an hour," Coulson says, turning to face me.

"As soon as we get there, you'll follow us to the debriefing room. Barton should be there soon after," Hill says and I nod.

"You're very quiet," Coulson says. "Considering you're father is Tony Stark," he adds.

"I didn't grow up with my father," I say. "I was raised by my mother, then went into the Air Force. I wasn't around him much," I add.

Hill and Coulson exchange looks, though I couldn't tell what they meant, and I wasn't going to read their minds to find out. It seemed very unprofessional.

About half an hour later, we land at the SHIELD headquarters in New Mexico and I follow Hill and Coulson into the debriefing room where I see Director Fury standing in front of a smart board.

"Evening, Captain," Fury says and I walk over to shake his hand.

"Director," I say, nodding respectfully.

"Barton should be here in a few minutes," he says and I nod silently.

In about five minutes, Clint walks in, wearing his SHIELD uniform and a bow and quiver strapped to his back.

"Sit," Fury says and Clint and I sit down at opposite sides of the table, staring at the smart board behind Fury. "We're having a problem with a woman that goes by the name of Natalia Alianovna Romanova."

"She Russian?" I ask and Fury nods.

"She's a KGB Agent and she's been killing people across the globe," Fury continues. "We need you two to go and try and find her, and kill her," Fury says and my eyebrows raise. "You will be leaving now," he says and he slides a file towards us and I pick it up.

The two of us - me and Clint - stand up. "Yes, sir," the two of us say in unison, walking out of the room side by side, and towards Clint's Quinjet.

Word Count: 2528 words

This is getting pretty spicy in my opinion

I hope you guys are enjoying this as much as I enjoy writing it! I say that you shouldn't write something if you don't love what you're doing, and I think that involves everything else you might do in life.

Here's Kaitlynn with some inspirational advice for the day...

Love y'all, Kaitlynn ❤😍

107 notes · View notes

snowdice · 4 years

Text

Road Trips and Missing Persons (Part 11)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Patton & Virgil, Virgil & Deceit, Logan & Patton, Emile & Remy, Roman & Remus & Janus

Characters: Patton, Virgil, Deceit, Remus, Roman, Logan, Emile, Remy

Summary: Patton was just getting groceries. The next thing he knew, there was a knife at his throat and he was an unwilling uber driver. Virgil’s on the run after the murder of his dad, and it’s not just his paranoia that’s telling him he’s being chased down. He has to get somewhere safe, somewhere he can trust, and all he has is a couple of stories from his dad and a name: “Green Bellow Foods and Dispensary.”

Notes: Secret Agents AU, knives, carjacking, kidnapping, murder mentioned, guns mentioned, pepper spray, blood mentioned, drugs mentioned, explosions (more to be added)

This is a fic I’ve been writing on study breaks that you have probably all already seen at this point. I’ve affectionately named it the Goblin Brain Fic because it’s helping my brain actually get motivated for studying. I’ve slightly edited it for wording and grammar, but not for content from my previous posts. Feel free to send in asks to direct it because I’m not 100% sure where this is going and you can help decide if you feel so inclined! You can see the process I went through to build this at this link.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 My Master Post

Virgil smiled awkwardly at the cashier when he entered the gas station and went straight to the coffee machine. He went ahead and grabbed the largest size cup for Patton because they were going to be on the road for a while.

He… didn’t quite understand why the man was still going to be driving for Virgil when there was no knife involved, but hopefully it wasn’t a trick.

It was probably a trick.

He should probably tell the cashier he’d been kidnapped.

But then the cashier would definitely call the cops and, knowing his mother, Virgil would definitely be screwed. So, instead, Virgil put the lid on Patton’s now filled coffee cup and found that there was one plain donut with chocolate frosting still in the case. He grabbed that and then searched around the candy aisle for a bit. He finally settled on a pack of Red Vines and grabbed a blue raspberry slushie. If he was going to get axe murdered by some guy that kept a stuffed bear named Barnaby in his car, he was going to do so with a blue tongue.

He handed over the 20-dollar bill to the cashier and then gathered up the snacks and drinks to take them to the car.

He caught Patton with his phone in his hands while he was pumping gas. “Hey, what are you doing?” Virgil asked.

“Just sending a text to my brother so he doesn’t worry too much,” Patton replied quickly. Virgil gave him a suspicious look. When it became clear that Virgil wasn’t going to willingly take a step closer to the car after that, Patton sighed and held out his phone. “You can see,” he said.

Virgil set the drinks and snacks down on the hood of the car and took the phone. The phone indeed was open to just a string of emojis sent to someone called “Lo-Lo” in Patton’s phone. The string of emojis read “🛒🧀🧀🧀💵🚙👶🏻🔪🥺🚙🍔🍟🍦📞🤐📻😭😴😱👣🤳🧸⛽️🗺☕️😎👍 ❤️”

“There is… no way he’d understand that,” Virgil said. “I barely understand it and I lived it.” He paused. “I am not a baby.”

Patton snatched the phone back. “I didn’t say you were.”

“You typed ‘knife baby’ in emoji!” Virgil said.

“Baby with a knife actually,” Patton said unrepentant. He grabbed his coffee and donut off the hood of the car and opened the driver’s door to put the drink in the cup holder and the donut on the seat. Then, he went to finish up pumping the gas.

Virgil frowned, but he did pick up his snack and drink and got into the passenger seat. He’d already thrown his lots in with the possible serial killer anyway.

Patton finished pumping the gas and got back into the car.

“Don’t sit on your…” he sat on his donut.

“Oops!” he said. He sat up and grabbed the donut to take a bite. “Still good,” he declared with a grin.

Virgil rolled his eyes and took a long drag of the slushie.

“Don’t get brain freeze!”

“Whatever da-” He froze, chocking on the word.

Patton looked over at him, his face turning serious suddenly. “Hey kiddo,” the man said softly. He reached over to put a hand on his shoulder and looked at him with warm earnest eyes that made Virgil want to believe his words. “I’m going to make sure you’re okay, okay?”

Virgil looked away from his far too knowing eyes. “You don’t even know me, why would you?”

“I like helping people when I can. A couple hours of driving aren’t much to make sure someone else is safe. I spend a lot of my life driving anyway.”

“What do you even do?” Virgil asked.

“I mostly do odd jobs for my brother.”

“That doesn’t sound like a real job,” Virgil said.

He started the car and began to back up as he answered. “Do you know much about real jobs, then?” he asked.

“Well…” Virgil said. “I mean, no, but… still.”

Patton smiled over at him. “Okay, I answered a question about me-” Did he though? Virgil narrowed his eyes at him. “Now you answer a question about you.”

“Why?” Virgil asked suspiciously.

“Well, we have an hour and a half of driving left and neither of us are kidnapped anymore, we might as well get to know each other.”

“…What’s the question?”

“What’s your favorite subject in school?” Patton asked cheerily.

“Really?” Virgil asked. “Is this what we’re doing?” Patton just smiled over at him and Virgil went about tearing open his package of Red Vines. “English,” he said taking a bite of his candy.

“I always liked History myself, but English was fun.”

Virgil hummed. “You have any family other than your brother?” he asked.

“Lo has two sons. They’re twins.”

“Cool,” Virgil replied.

“Favorite color?”

“Purple. So, you don’t have kids then?”

“Not of my own,” Patton replied. “But I helped with the twins when they were younger, and I like to think of all of my coworkers as my kiddos.”

Virgil’s face twisted up. He didn’t know much about adult workplaces, but… “I’m sure they appreciate that,” Virgil scoffed

“I like to think so,” Patton said, seeming to not even register the skepticism in Virgil’s tone. Was the man ever anything but chipper? “Favorite movie?”

“Ratatouille,” he said on instinct and then felt his stomach drop. His favorite movie was Ratatouille because Uncle Emile always insisted on playing it during movie nights. Dad would complain loudly because he knew that Emile and Virgil would spend the rest of the night making jokes about dad having the same name as the rat.

“I don’t want to play this game anymore,” Virgil said, choked.

Patton glanced over at him in surprise. “Okay,” he said softly. Virgil was thankful he didn’t try to push.

They drove for another 10 minutes. Virgil did his best not to think about… everything, but it got increasingly harder. He tugged on the sleeve of his hoodie, his slushie and Red Vines forgotten. Finally, Patton looked back over at him, his eyes concerned. Virgil curled into himself expecting him to try to needle Virgil into talking.

Instead he just smiled sadly at him. “Why don’t we play a different game?”

“I… sure,” Virgil agreed. Might as well. Maybe it would help. “What game?”

“Ooo!” Patton said. “How about ‘I Kill Your Cows’? Lo always threatens to kill me by the end of that game.”

“And that’s a good thing?” Virgil asked.

“Yeah!” Patton said, “Because that means I’m winning.”

Virgil puffed out an amused breath. “Okay. How do you play?” he asked.

“Well,” Patton said. “Basically, when you see a group of cows you can claim them and say ‘I have 10 cows’ or however many there are. Whoever says it first gets the cows. If you see a church or other place people get married, you can say ‘I marry my cows’ and then your cows double. If you see a graveyard, you can say ‘I kill your cows’ and reset the other player back to zero cows. If you see a barn you can say ‘I put however many cows in that barn’ and the cows go in the barn. When they’re in the barn, they can’t be killed, but they can’t be married either. You have to wait to see another barn before you can take them out again.”

“Alright,” Virgil agreed. “Sure. Why not?”

“Great!” Patton said. “There’s a field of them up there. Since you’re new to the game, I’ll let you grab the first few.”

Virgil squinted at the cows in the field. “I have 6 cows,” he said.

“Nice job!” Patton said.

Virgil rolled his eyes. He didn’t know what was impressive about counting a few cows, but he smiled a bit anyway.

They continued to play the cow game for a while. Patton was obviously really good at this game and obviously trying to not be as good at the game as he actually was so Virgil wouldn’t lose by a million cows.

They turned on the radio after a while. Unfortunately, the conspiracy channel had fizzled out by now, so they turned to a local station that played a mix of music.

“Can I take horses?” Virgil asked after about 20 minutes of play.

“Sure,” Patton replied. “Go ahead.”

“Okay, I have 4 horses.”

“Ooo!” Patton said. “That horsey is a palomino! I’ll trade you two cows for that horse.”

Virgil was pretty sure that’s not how it was supposed to work. But… Patton was 18 animals ahead… “20,” Virgil countered.

Patton glanced over at him. “5.”

“15.”

“10.”

“11, so I’m winning for once.”

He thought about it for a long moment. “Deal,” he finally said.

“Yes!” Virgil said excitedly. “I’m winning!”

Patton smiled over at him. “I have five cows,” he said.

Virgil’s head shot up to look out the windshield. There were, in fact, five cows in the pasture right in front of them. “Dammit!”

Patton coughed meaningfully.

“You can’t murder me like that and then get mad when I cuss,” Virgil grumbled.

“Aw, cheer up kiddo. At least we haven’t found a graveyard yet.”

“But when we do, you will guiltlessly murder all of my cows,” Virgil said. “Because you are truly evil.”

Patton just laughed at him. Virgil grumpily reached forward to turn up the radio so he could ignore him easier.

The song that was playing faded out as he did so, and the radio jockey came on the air. “Quick traffic update, there’s been an accident on I-26. A semi-truck full of cattle rolled over near exit 52 and eastbound traffic has been stopped. If you’re on I-26, we’d suggest you find an alternative route as it will take a while to get all of the cows rounded up.”

“Well I’m glad we got off the interstate when we did,” said Patton.

“Yeah,” agreed Virgil. “It would suck to be stuck in the middle of that.” He paused and listened to the radio jockey continue to explain that the semi had been carrying at least 150 cows. “Hey, Patton, can I claim cows remotely?”

Want to read more? Click below!

Part 12

#sanders sides #patton sanders #virgil sanders #platonic moxiety #logan sanders #road trips and missing persons #adriana writes #janus sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #creativitwins #emile picani #remy sanders #kidnapping #murder mentioned #guns

92 notes · View notes

saneatsrice · 5 years

Text

choi san: loving the babysitter pt. 1

summary: san needs community service hours in order to keep his position on the school basketball team and y/n needs money to help pay off the debt left behind by her father, what are the odds of them starting a romantic journey at a daycare center?

pairing: basketball player! san x babysitter! reader

warning: none

author’s note: I came up with this idea through an AU generator because I was in a writing mood but had no clue what to write LOLL, let me know if you want this to be a series because I have a few ideas but I’m not sure if I should continue writing this. also, it’s currently unedited because I’m lazy and brain dead but I’ll fix it later I swear! please enjoy :))

word count: 6052

y/n has a lot of weight to carry over her shoulders for a high school student. throughout her high school journey, she has had to carry out countless part time jobs in order to help her mother pay off the debt her father had left behind after gambling away their life savings and then fleeing the country, causing the two women to work in order to stop it from growing. this year being her last year of high school, y/n has to think about her future and how she will be able to pay off the additional college tuition once she graduates this year and begins applying for grants and scholarships. however, after getting fired from her last job, finding a new job that is accepting of her schedule due to school is immensely difficult.

as she was giving up hope, y/n came across a sign as she was walking home from school that read treasure daycare and saw a sign on the window of the small building that said “looking for babysitters”.

y/n being desperate to help with the family income and building up a savings account for her college funds, she decided there wasn’t any harm in applying. as she look through the window to see if anyone was in the building, her eyes landed on three toddlers sitting on the fluffy carpet. there were two little boys who were playing with blocks and laughing every time they accidentally knocked down the structure. however, the third little boy was sitting alone on the edge of the carpet drawing little shapes into the floor. soon y/n’s eyes land on tall figure with brown hair and a puppy-like face. y/n recognized him as yunho from her economics class, a boy who always knew how to make everyone smile and laugh even when they are having a bad day. yunho waves from the inside and runs to the sliding door to open it for y/n to enter.

“hello y/n, what brings you here?” yunho asked while having that award winning smile on his face.

y/n smiles back at yunho and replies, “I saw that sign on the door and was wondering who should I talk to in order to apply for the job”.

yunho beckons the girl to come into the room and leaders her to the middle of the room. “you can sit there while I go get my manager” yunho says while pointing to a plastic, toddler sized chair which causes y/n to laugh and walk towards the tiny seat to rest. As yunho goes, into the back room, she sees the two boys who were previously playing with the blocks, run over to her full of energy.

“hi my name is wooyoung and this is my best friend yeosang”, the little boy with purple hair says with a smile on his face while intertwining his small chubby hand with the little brown haired boy next to him.

“hello, what is your name?” the brown haired boy asked while hiding behind his wooyoung which did not help him any as he was taller than wooyoung.

“my name is y/n and I hope I will be able to work here and get to know you two cuties” y/n replies with a smile on her face, wanting nothing more than to squish the two little boys’ cheeks due to their look of awestruck as they think about the potential of having another babysitter to play with.

soon yunho comes back into the room with an older man who has black hair following behind him looking as serious as ever. it honestly scared y/n a little bit along with wooyoung and yeosang as they ran to hide behind y/n’s side and hugged her on each side. the mysterious man realizes there are still children present and his eyes turn into a more gentle manner.

“i am sorry for scaring you kids, my name is park seonghwa, I am the manager at treasure daycare, I heard from yunho you wanted to apply for a job here, is that true?” seonghwa asked.

“yes, I was hoping to find a job to be able to sustain a family income in order to help my mom and college tuition is not getting any cheaper, so I am willing to take any job possible to help out my family” y/n replied while putting her arms around the two kids who have yet to let go of her.

“well I can see the kiddos have already taken a liking to you and yunho really took his time begging me to hire you while bragging about how responsible you are and all that positive stuff to me so you’re hired” seonghwa says chuckling once he sees yunho turn red and whining to him about how he wasn’t supposed to tell y/n that.

after y/n thanked him, seonghwa began explaining the expectations for the babysitting job along with giving y/n her schedule. he mentioned how there were only three kids that y/n would ever have to take care of and entertain.

y/n quickly warms up to wooyoung and yeosang on her first day as they drag her off to play with them immediate but continues to look at the third child and wonders why he never joins them to play games or why he sits on the far end of the table by himself away from the other kids. he only sticks to seonghwa who seems to be the only one who is capable of getting him out of his bubble.

after wooyoung and yeosang is picked up by wooyoung’s brother hongjoong who came after attending his afternoon class, y/n decided it was time to make an attempt to get closer to the unknown baby. as y/n approached the baby, he began to crawl away from her clutching onto his apple tightly as if he has been wanting to eat it but can’t bite through the hard shell.

“hey buddy, did you want me to cut the apple for you?” y/n asked after watching him struggle to break the apple in half for a few minutes.

the little boy nods and hands y/n the apple where she holds the apple in the middle and breaks it in half perfectly. the boy looks at her in awe and for the first time, she saw him smile as she hands him the apple for him to munch on.

“what is your name little boy?” y/n asks after she sees him happily take small bites out of the apple and smiles when he looks up at her with a shocked expression.

“jongho,” the little boy replies giving her a gummy smile after getting the attention he lacks outside of the daycare center, but that story is for another time.

after that encounter, jongho began to open up more to y/n and created a strong relationship with her as he began to babble and speak the few words he knew to communicate with her. she used her time at the center to be able to teach jongho more words, basic knowledge a toddler should know before hitting preschool, and how to find joy in little activities such as drawing, running around the playground, and even breaking apples in half because he seemed super excited every time y/n did it. although y/n still made the efforts to spend time with wooyoung and yeosang, she felt more drawn to jongho as she spent most of her time with him to make sure he never felt neglected or alone in the daycare center.

she began to notice how every time jongho’s brother came to pick him up, jongho’s smile would turn into a frown and his eyebrows become more knitted showing that he was irritated. y/n knew jongho’s brother from school as he was in her economics and english class and he is most well known for being the captain of Utopia High School basketball team. jongho’s brother was none other than the infamous choi san, who always had a cute eye smile around school that showcased his prominent dimples and his determination and serious face when he is on the court.

san never uttered a word to y/n whenever he came to pick up jongho. he would just grab the pen with an irritated look on his face, sign his name in order to check jongho out of the daycare, grab jongho’s stuff, and walk out the daycare center with jongho attempting to keep up with his brother’s much longer legs. however, before leaving the door, jongho never failed to give y/n a hug and dig his face into her shoulder when she lifted him up so she did not have to crouch to his height and strain her back.

everyday became a routine for y/n, she would always walk to school with her best friend mingi, who always made sure she had her breakfast and caught her up on notes that she may have missed due to stressing over her family situation. after school was over, she would walk to the treasure daycare and take care of the three toddlers she has created a soft spot for, especially jongho, and wait until all the kids are picked up by their guardian, and cleans and locks up the place with whoever seems to be working the same shift as her (most of the time it’s seonghwa).

y/n loves her job as she adores the three adorable children she gets to play and nurture as they grow older and socialize with her two fellow coworkers which she later learned are just softies despite their tall statures. y/n learned how seonghwa is currently attending Aurora University along with hongjoong and works in the daycare center in order to earn money to pay off his college debt. she learned how yunho was san’s best friend and would’ve played basketball with him if it did not involve so much aggression and violence and thus, his friendly giant nature was better served in the daycare center where he could earn his community service hours and play with kids who share the same happy-go-lucky personality he has. the babysitting trio begins to get to know each other better and establish strong friendships. little did they know, their trio would soon be gaining another person.

choi san spends all his time practicing basketball in order to improve his skills and due to the fact that he is a candidate for a basketball scholarship as aurora university, he does not want to lose the opportunity of obtaining it. all his time goes to practicing that he neglects his other scholarly requirements to graduate, specifically, community service hours. due to his lack of community service hours, the administration building asserts to san that if he cannot earn at least fifty hours by the time basketball season starts, they will take away his title as captain of the basketball team, which gives him a disadvantage in receiving his scholarship.

thinking quickly, he runs to find his best friend yunho on campus to seek advice on what he should do. he quickly spots the six foot giant about to exit the school gates and sprints to him, who stops abruptly after hearing loud footsteps and causes the basketball captain to run into his back.

“oh hey san, why are you on the floor? is it that comfy?” yunho asks with a goofy smile on his face while his best friend is fuming while rubbing his slightly red nose.

“who just stops in the middle of an entrance yunho?! anyways that’s not the point, the administration office just talked to me about lacking community service hours and told me if I don’t get fifty hours by the time basketball season starts, which is in three months, they’re going to take my captain title away from me. no captain title means bye bye scholarship, WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?!” san begins rambling and pulling at his hair without getting up from the ground.

“okay calm down, look, I think the babysitting center that I volunteer at still has one slot open where you can volunteer, it’s five days a week for like four maybe five hours. before you start worrying about your practice days, seonghwa is pretty lenient on shift hours. even with missing the few days basketball practice is on, it is enough to be able to get you to have an abundant amount of hours to clear fifty by the time the basketball season starts. plus after your shift, you can just pick up jongho afterwards and go straight home” yunho replies in the midst of san’s panic which causes san’s eyes to light up as he jumps up and koala hugs yunho, not caring about the weird stares he was getting from the other students who were leaving school.

“I have never loved your clumsy, giant self more than I do right now. what are we waiting for, let’s go to the daycare center” san says in an excited manner, while clinging onto yunho.

“uhh, can you get off me first?” yunho asks feeling uncomfortable after finally noticing the stares the pair were getting from their student body.

the two begin their walk to the daycare center and when the open the door, they see seonghwa attempting to clean up after wooyoung and yeosang who continue to get paint all over the table. however, san’s eyes immediately goes to the girl holding his little brother in her lap as he holds a blue color pencil in his left hand, drawing quietly.

y/n look up and asks, “are you here to pick up jongho already? you’re a lot earlier than usual.” all while tilting her head in a confused manner and holding the little boy who looks grumpy at the sight of his brother and turns to hold onto y/n’s neck, resting his head on her shoulder in a direction where he cannot see his brother.

“actually no, I was hoping there was another opening for the job here because I need a lot of community service hours for school”, san replies which caught seonghwa’s attention as he tosses the rag to yunho asking him to clean up the paint and pulls san to the back room to talk to him.

in the back room, seonghwa drags san to sit in a chair, his nurturing, child friend persona gone, as his face turns into one of a strict, militant leader. (I don’t know how to put links to gifs on tumblr but just imagine like wonderland seonghwa’s stage presence LOL).

“I understand how much basketball means to you, but i do not want you to neglect your duties at treasure daycare because of it. these kids are too pure for the world and deserves all the love and attention, if you can’t do that, you can find somewhere else to get your hours. these kids mean everything to me and if you as so much make them cry or put aside their feelings, I will not hesitate to fire you and hit you with my broom.” seonghwa says effectively scaring san as he hears him gulp his saliva nervously while nodding in a quick manner, wanting to go back out to main room as soon as possible.

seonghwa moves to walk back to the room where everyone else was and changes his face back to his motherly persona. he walks towards y/n and puts his arms out, signalling y/n to hand jongho over to him. obeying his command, y/n places jongho in his arms and in response, jongho wraps his arms around seonghwa.

“y/n, I need you to train the newbie. I would but there is just too much to clean around here and if it’s not spotless in the next hour I will lose my mind. this mess is not good for my mental state and makes me incapable of dealing with stupid people today so please handle the newbie for me” seonghwa commands while rubbing his temples.

y/n nods and gives jongho a kiss on the forehead before going to the back room to find san. she finds him except he looks like he’s seen a ghost. she then approaches him and taps his should which he in turns screams about how he understands and to not get the broom. y/n confused as ever begins by introducing herself.

“hello san, my name is y/n, you may or may not know me from your economics or english class but seonghwa wants me to train you for your job here”, y/n says while smiling at the boy who is finally regaining his sanity after his little outburst.

san reaches to shake her hand and then introduces himself, still recovering from the verbal beating he had gotten from seonghwa without y/n’s knowledge of what had occurred in the back room as of recently.

for the rest of the day y/n is describing the certain tasks that san will have to take on during his shift from washing the dirty dishes, setting up the cots for nap time, and playing with the three toddlers, much to jongho’s dismay. the more y/n was around san, the more she noticed how uninterested he was in working at the daycare center, as he was mostly staring out the window or the clock wondering when he can finally go home. seonghwa had asked y/n to lock up after she left as he had a night class today and yunho had taken the kids outside to watch the sunset and have a small picnic in the yard. as they were the only two in the room, she thought maybe conversing with him would make him feel more comfortable working at the daycare center.

“so I heard you’re really good at basketball, how’s that going?” y/n asked while smiling at the boy who had snapped out of his daze out the window.

“I could be at the basketball court right now instead of here with a bunch of children and dirty dishes” san mumbled which caused y/n to frown at his attitude.

“but looking past the dirty dishes, this place is amazing. they have the cutest kids who have the warmest hearts and brightest smiles. I am so thankful that seonghwa hired me as I got the opportunity to meet the sweetest kids and the most amazing coworkers”, y/n says optimistically, her resolve beginning to break after dealing with san for the past five hours.

“these kids wouldn’t know what working hard is like, I waste my time here doing everything for them instead of them learning to do it themselves” san mumbles in reply which is becomes y/n’s breaking point.

“that’s it. I am so fed up with your stupid grumpy attitude. I tried so hard to get you to warm up and make you enjoy your job. but you only think about yourself and what your interests are. can’t you be selfless for once in your damn life and think about someone other than yourself. you have no idea what it is like to work for the benefit of helping others as all you think about is your stupid basketball. you try having to work countless job to be able to provide for your family and paying of the debt your father created after he left your mom to deal with. that is the life I am trying to keep these kids from experiencing. if constantly babying them prevents them from going through what I had to as a child, I would sacrifice anything for them to never have to even see what that life is like” y/n says with a ferocity that san has never seen, it was incomparable to the most aggressive basketball players he’s seen. the difference was behind y/n’s eyes there was a hint of pain behind them.

y/n threw down the rag she was holding from cleaning the water around the sink and walked out the back room, as far from san as possible. she walked outside towards yunho and the kids with an irritated look on her face. jongho noticing her distress, waddles his way to her and hugs her legs as a way of comfort. y/n picks him up and hugs him, trying her hardest not to cry at the thought of jongho, wooyoung, and yeosang having to go through the experience she had as a child. yunho notices y/n on the verge of tears and begins worrying for her and asks, “y/n, are you feeling alright?”

y/n uses her arm that was not carrying jongho to wipe the tears borderline from falling from her eyes. “yes, I just got a little frustrated with san, training him made me a little stressed out” y/n replied feeling jongho tighten his grip on her at the mention of his brother’s name.

“san is really hard headed at times and doesn’t think about anything but basketball, but deep down, he’s super nice goofball who’s just buried under a lot of stress” yunho reasoned while cleaning up the paper plates and plastic utensils the kids had used to eat during their picnic.

y/n began patting jongho’s back as he was dosing of on her shoulder, nuzzling himself into the crook of her neck. she noticed someone was staring at her and looked towards the sliding door. she saw san standing by the window looking in her direction, specifically at his little brother asleep on her shoulder with a little drool sticking out of his mouth. he opened the sliding door and walked towards the pair. he noticed how his y/n’s face turned colder the closer he came towards her and his little brother. he sat down next to y/n as she tried to avoid eye contact with him as much as possible, turned her body away from the star basketball player, and clutched onto jongho tighter in order to comfort herself.

“listen y/n I’m sorry, I had no idea what you went through in your childhood years. I was being insensitive to your feelings and generosity while you were training me. I really appreciate you taking time out of playing with the kids to be able to make me a better worker. I also want to apologize for being so selfish and only thinking about my basketball career when I have three other children to care for now. I will try to be a better babysitter and take the workload off your shoulders and hopefully work my way up to being your friend eventually if you allow me to”, san said while pouting and looking down at the grass that suddenly seemed like the most interesting thing in the world.

y/n smiled and scooted closer to san. with her free hand that was not holding onto jongho, she put her hand on his should in order to comfort and coax him out of his guilt. “I understand how much basketball means to you and how passionate you are in pursuing your hobbies, I guess I forgot what it was like to enjoy your favorite activities and took it a little too hard on you. after my dad left, I had to give up drawing and art classes as it became too expensive for my mom to pay for. I guess I had to grow up a lot faster than the kids around me and I was never allowed to develop a passion that I could really enjoy. that’s why when I started working here, I wanted wooyoung, yeosang, and jongho to never have to grow up faster than they need to and find things they can enjoy for themselves, instead of having fate choose their paths for them,” y/n said sadly while looking at san, trying her hardest not to let any tears fall.

san closed the space between him and y/n and pulled her into a side hug as best he could as it was hard to due to the fact that he did not want to wake up his little brother that was in her other arm. when y/n was in san’s arms, she used her one arm to awkwardly pat his shoulder as a sign that she forgave him for his rotten attitude from earlier and acknowledges his attempt in comforting her. she leaned her head onto his shoulder and let her tears fall freely as she began having flashbacks of her father packing his suitcases and leaving her and her mother with a large amount of debt for the two to pay off.

san began noticing his sweater getting wet and hugged onto her tighter, letting her use his sweater as her personal tissue, not minding the amount of tears and snot that was being spilled on it. he began to rub her back and whispered the best comforting words he could as he has never been in a situation where he had to make a girl feel better since he has spent all his time playing basketball. the closest thing he’s had to a girlfriend was his basketball for christ sake. y/n began giggling at his efforts to get her stop crying and lifted her face for san to see her beautiful smile to which he returned with his closed eyed smiles that showed his adorable dimples.

in the distance however, yunho was holding wooyoung and yeosang in both his arms awkwardly, not knowing whether he should interrupt the potential romantic moment to tell them to go inside before they start getting mosquito bites or leave them alone to have their moment and take the other two boys inside before they freeze their little toddler bums off. he looked at wooyoung who was smiling at the scene in front of them and then looked at yeosang who was hiding his face in yunho’s hoodie afraid that he will see the two kiss, causing san catch cooties from y/n.

deciding to go with the poor boy hiding , he moves his face towards the mop of brown hair hiding in his hoodie he loudly whispers in his ear “is telling them to go inside the daycare center the move?” causing the little yeosang to lift his head to look at yunho in question.

wooyoung catching onto what yunho was saying immediately, decides to make an executive decision without consulting his fellow third wheelers by screaming, “SAN, Y/N, YUNHO THINKS THAT YOU SHOULD STOP SHARING COOTIES AND COME INSIDE BEFORE THE LITTLE BUGGIES GIVE YOU OUCHIES!!” leaving yunho to face palm and yeosang to follow yunho’s action only for him to whine when he hit his forehead a little too hard, causing yunho to move his hand to lightly rub the poor boy’s red spot on his forehead.

this made y/n and san turn their head towards the giant babysitter sitting on picnic blanket with the two toddlers on each thigh. wooyoung bouncing with a proud aura around him, thinking he was being a big boy and helping yunho take charge. while yeosang had little tears in his eyes as the impact of hitting his forehead too hard was finally setting in, making a stinging feeling spread through his head.

meanwhile, jongho wakes up from wooyoung’s loud voice and lets out a whine as he rubs the sleep from his eyes with his little chubby baby fists. his eyes land on y/n above him to which he readjusts his grip on her neck reaches up to kiss her cheek. he then turns to look next to y/n where he spots his brother with his arms around y/n. seeing this, jongho springs to action by reaching towards his brother and using his little hand to push his brother’s face away from y/n. due to the force of little jongho’s hands, san ended up falling backwards, his head landing into a puddle of mud. y/n cringed a little at the poor boy’s predicament while the other four boys began laughing pointing at san’s now muddy hair, with yunho laughing the loudest of the bunch.

y/n stood up with jongho in her arm and used her free arm to reach out and help san stand to his feet. as soon as san stood up, he could feel the muddy water slide down his sweater and small amounts of mud makes its way down his face. seeing the mud continue to travel all over san, yunho began laughing even louder and harder, adding in a couple of knee slaps.

“oh seonghwa is not going to be happy if you come into the center like that. he’ll go crazy in the morning when he sees how much mud you’ve brought into the center and dirtying his perfect white carpet,” y/n said, looking at the boy guiltily, while jongho who was facing away from his brother had a mischievous smile on his face as he leaned his cheek onto y/n’s shoulder.

once yunho calmed down from his laughing fit and wiped the tears forming in his eyes, he stood up with the two kids still in his arms and walked towards to daycare center to find some towels to help his best friend dry off and clean up at least a little bit before he went home.

as the three third wheelers made their way into the daycare center, san, y/n, and jongho were left outside. san and y/n continued to stare at each other, while jongho glared at his older brother for taking y/n’s attention away from him.

“I really appreciate you manning up and apologizing to me san, it was a really mature thing of you to do”, y/n says smiling in his direction causing san to smile back in return.

the three outside then hears footsteps approaching the daycare center. they look up and see hongjoong walking towards them, coming to pick up wooyoung and yeosang. as hongjoong got closer, he noticed san, began smiling, and running up to the boy until he notices the boy is covered in mud and cringes.

“hello san, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you! hope the basketball team is doing well under your leadership.” hongjoong greets the muddy boy while smiling brightly.

hongjoong and san have been friends for years as hongjoong was the previous basketball team captain at Utopia High School before he graduated and passed on his legacy to san. san regularly goes to hongjoong to seek advice on certain problems that are plaguing his mind and take a toll on his mental state.

san smiles replies, “it’s been good, I’ve fallen behind on my community service hours so I am trying to catch up on them by working at the daycare center. if I don’t hit fifty hours in three months, they’re taking away my captain title”.

hongjoong nods in understanding and then waves at y/n and making small conversation with her as he looks in the window to see yunho helping wooyoung and yeosang pack their belongings into their backpack, getting ready to go home. soon, wooyoung and yeosang make their way outside towards hongjoong who gives them each a hug and holds their hand.

“give me second kiddos, I have to sign you both out and then we can head home” hongjoong says to the kids in a gentle manner as he makes his way towards the daycare center and grabs the pen yunho is holding to sign the binder.

hongjoong then gives the pen back to yunho and goes back to grab both wooyoung and yeosang’s hand once again and lead them to his car to drive them home. as yunho, y/n, san, and jongho watches hongjoong drive away from the daycare center, yunho throws a towel at san which he catches with ease, with yunho screaming at him to get as much mud off as possible before seonghwa kills all of them. rolling his eyes, san wipes as much of the mud off as possible until the pristine white towel was completely different shades of brown. y/n then grabs the towel from san and hands him jongho and goes into the daycare center to place the towel into the dirty hamper filled with dish rags and the kiddo’s dirty painting aprons.

san goes towards the door where yunho is waiting with the sign out binder with a pen, trying his best to hold in his laugh as the mud had dried up san’s hair to where it looks like dry ramen. san rolls his eyes and snatches the pen away from yunho and signs the sign out sheet next to jongho’s name. as soon as he is done signing, y/n comes out of the back room with her stuff, cheering about how she is ready to go home after a long day. yunho goes to turn off all the lights and makes sure the place is spotless clean to ensure that seonghwa will not scold them when he comes to open the daycare center the next day. after turning off the lights, the last remaining four humans at the daycare center leave the building and y/n uses the key seonghwa gave her to lock the front door and goes around the back to lock the back door as well.

“well, I’m going to head off first, I haven’t done the economics homework in the past week so I have a lot of catching up to do, see you tomorrow” yunho blurts out in the awkward silence and begins sprinting down the pavement towards the direction of his home causing san, y/n, and jongho to laugh at the boy.

san looks towards y/n with jongho in his arms and speaks up. “thank you for training me today y/n, even though I am probably the most difficult trainee you have ever had to deal with” he says while rubbing the back of his neck with jongho pouting as he wanted to be held by y/n.

“well considering you’re the only trainee I’ve had to train here, I would say you’re the best and worst trainee I’ve ever had to tolerate” y/n replies giggling.

jongho lets out a whine in san’s arms and attempts to reach for y/n to the best of his small body’s abilities. “hey jongho, what’s the matter with you, you’ve cuddled y/n enough for today, we have to go home for dinner before mom yells at us for being home late,” san scolds the boy causing him to whine louder.

y/n reaches for jongho to hold him and explains to san, “jongho has a somewhat ritual that he has to do before leaving the daycare center, where he always wants a hug from me before he leaves, no matter how late you two are running. I really don’t mind anyways since I love hugs and jongho just looks super happy after getting his hug” while rubbing jongho’s back to calm him down as jongho squeezes onto y/n tighter.

after their little hug, y/n hands jongho back to san where the three walks away from the daycare center and part ways to make their journey back to their respective homes.

as san is walking with jongho asleep in his arms towards their home, he begins thinking about how working at the daycare center may not be as bad as he originally thought, especially with his best friend yunho there to entertain him and y/n who could potential be a good friend of his if he plays his cards right. he felt as if y/n and him had some kind of connection on the grass and felt proud that he could comfort a girl that way crying after spending his whole life with a basketball as his soulmate. with all these thoughts running through his head, there was one big question that was plaguing his mind at that very moment:

did yunho really just cockblock me?

#ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez #ateez san #choi san #san #ateez yeosang #ateez yunho #ateez jongho #ateez wooyoung #ateez mingi #ateez seonghwa #ateez hongjoong #atz imagines #atz scenarios

148 notes · View notes

mlovesstories · 5 years

Text

Protective

Words: 3500

Warnings: threats to life, cussing, gun shots, stalker, protective Dean

Dean x reader!platonic

Sam x reader!platonic

Mom x daughter!reader

Summary: Dean and Sam are part of a security team charged with protecting a political figure and her daughter.

AN: child au for @spngenrebingo

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Masterlist of Masterlists

“You get your ass back here! I need to talk to you, mister!” The seven year-old pounded her shoes into the floor after Dean. He stopped in his tracks. She slammed into his leg, not paying attention. “Ow!” She fell back onto her rear.

“Excuse me?” He turned. Towering over her, he asked, “What did you say?”

“Umm,” she stuttered.

“Room. Now.”

“Mom wouldn’t care!” Reagan stood and stomped her foot.

“Yes, she would! Do you treat everyone else like this too?” She silently shook her head. “Go.”

“Ugh!” The little girl pushed passed him and dramatically exited the room.

Dean’s phone rang. He saw Reagan’s mom displayed on the screen.

“Hi Senator Downing,” he smiled into the phone. “How is Italy?”

“Beautiful, but politics are so difficult. I am out of my comfort zone here, Winchester. I just happened to check the security cameras, and my feisty daughter seems to not be having a good day.”

“You saw that just now?” Dean laughed. “Yeah, I think she misses you, ma’am.”

“You aren’t the nanny, Mr. Winchester.” Ms. Downing sighed. “Don’t take on nannying too.”

“I love her, you know that.” Dean offered her a dry laugh. “Political figures’ kids never listen to nannies anyway.”

“Fine, Mr. Winchester. Keep her alive, please. And tell her that if she uses that word again, our pizza night is canceled on Friday. Tuna sandwiches instead,” she giggled knowing her daughter would hate it.

“I will alert her, thank you, Ms. Downing. Stay safe, tell Sam hello,” referring to his brother and co-worker.

“Will do, thank you, Winchester. Oh, you better get to Reagan. She is trying to sneak out my office window.” Senator Downing raced to get her words out.

“Yes, ma’am.” Dean hung up.

“What in the world do you think you are doing, Reagan Marie Downing?” Dean quietly entered the main hallway where he saw her trying to open the window.

“Leaving! I am going to Italy to be with Mommy! She doesn’t have rules like you!” Reagan crossed her arms.

“She is more strict than me, and you know it. Besides, I just got off the phone with her, because she saw your temper tantrum.” Dean smirked inwardly.

“On the cameras?” She had forgotten about those.

“Yep. Your mom told me that you’ll be eating a tuna sandwich Friday night if you don’t change your behavior.”

“What? No! I want pizza!”

“Then act like you want it, kid. Back to your room, no more escaping. Let’s go.” The bodyguard escorted her to her room by guiding her shoulders. “Seven minutes.” He watched her walk to her bed and plopped herself down. Dean shut her door and guarded it so that she would not sneak out again. After her time was over, he opened the door. “Come on, all done.” He faced her in the doorway. She stood from her bed and froze. “What’s up kiddo?”

“I just want my mom.”

“I know this is new, sweetie. New house, new schedule. But your mom has a really important job to do. And sometimes that means she has to leave.”

“I hate it.”

“Stop using bad words.” Dean said shortly.

“I don’t like it!”

“But you have me!” Dean laughed.

“Winnie!” Reagan whined.

“Come on, dinner time.”

“No, thank you,” she moped. Before she could cross her arms, he swept her off of the ground and whisked her into the kitchen as she giggled.

“You don’t get to be a sour puss tonight. Eat up.”

The next Friday night Reagan and her mother enjoyed pizza together. Sam stood watch at the door for the evening shift.

“Baby Winchester, go home. There are other guards here. Have a drink with your brother, go cause trouble or something.”

“No, ma’am. My shift does not end until the morning,” he stated very professionally.

“I hired you personally, don’t make me suspend you. Go.” She grinned to herself.

“Ma’am-”

“One,” she started counting. “Two-”

“Yes, Senator Downing. Enjoy your evening. Sleep well, Reagan.” The little girl waved at him as he exited the house.

“Where’s Winnie?” The seven year-old asked her mom, tucking her stuffed animal underneath her arm on the couch.

“He isn’t working tonight, baby. This is his job, he doesn’t always have to work. Dean also has to go home and watch his own TV and do every day things like we do. He’s been with us for a while, you know he doesn’t live here with us.”

“But- I want him here to watch the movie with us. He likes pizza too.”

“He likes you, but he also likes to hang out with his friends and go to his house too. You know this, what’s up?”

“Nothing.”

“I know something is bothering you, kid.” Dean walked into Reagan’s room a week later as she was coloring on her bed the next day. She had been withdrawn and to herself over the previous few weeks. “I’ve been with you long enough to know when something is wrong.” He planted himself on her bed, moving her feet from the bed to his lap.

“Mommy hates me, and you think I’m stupid.” Reagan did not make eye contact. He took a deep breath knowing not to react with a hair trigger.

“You know neither of those are true.”

“Yes, it’s true. Mommy is gone all the time now since she became an sena- senat-“

“Senator.”

“We used to do stuff, now she is gone. And you haven’t been here!”

“I took vacation days, baby. I’m not leaving you, promise.”

“Fine, but pinky promise?” She put her finger up, and he wrapped his around hers.

They soon changed the subject which led to giggles and jokes.

—————

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Winnie! Come on!” Reagan whined to Dean.

“Punching another kid, seriously?”

“She punched me first!”

“Right…” Dean rolled his eyes.

“The principal saw it on the camera at school!”

“Let’s go home. We need to have a freaking talk before I call your mother. I hate making these calls, Reagan.”

She huffed.

“Get over here.” Dean gritted his teeth. Reagan walked over to him quietly in the living room later that afternoon. Averting her eyes, she shifted on the balls of her feet. “Look at me.” Dean crosses his arms. Reagan slowly met his eyes, tears starting to fall. “I know you didn’t punch first. BUT you had words with her before that punch. Next time keep your words to yourself when you know it will escalate. Sit down.” Dean pulled out his phone.

“No!” Reagan stood up and tried to grab it.

“Sit. Down.” He moved away from her. “If you be quiet, I won’t tell your mom you just tried to do that.” Reagan backed up and sat down again silently. She put her head in her hands and quietly teared up. A few minutes later he handed her the phone.

“Seriously, Rae? You keep getting into trouble. You’re lucky Dean is there and not me.”

“I know. I’m sorry, Mommy.”

“You can stand up for yourself, but make sure that you don’t instigate something you can’t handle. You’re grounded until Friday. Anything technology goes to Dean unless you need it for school. I need to go, listen to Dean and be good. I love you.”

“Really, Mom? I need to get in trouble to talk to you?” YN yelled at her mom.

“Goodbye, Reagan.” Susan hung up.

“Ugh!”

“All your devices. Go get ‘em.”

“Seriously?”

“Phone, iPad, computer, all of it.” He put his phone in his pocket. She turned and stomped up the stairs to retrieve them.

“Here.” Reagan practically threw them at Dean.

“Cool it.”

“No.” Reagan growled at him.

“Take a breath. Relax for a minute. Sit on the porch. Do something to calm down. And just for the record, don’t throw stuff when you’re mad. Go punch a bag or something.”

“Okay,” she slipped outside to sit on the porch swing.

Benny, another security team member walked in. “Umm…”

“She’s growing up. And it sucks.” Dean turned to his coworker.

“Yep. Maybe you should step back, man. You’re not in charge of her like that, ya know?”

“What?” Dean turned.

“You’re not her babysitter.”

“That’s actually my job, Senior Winchester,” Jessica, one is the nannies walked in.

“We’ve talked about this, Benny.” He became defensive, jutting his jaw out. “Sorry, Jessica. Don’t mean to undermine you.”

“I’m just saying, Winchester.” Benny sighed.

“Say it somewhere else, Lafitte.”

“Winchester-“ Benny started.

“Ah!”

Dean and Benny went running toward a screaming sound. They threw open the backdoor to find Reagan hiding behind a planter.

“What happened?”

“Bad guy!” Reagan screeched out.

“Where?” Dean growled protectively. Reagan pointed to the tall wrought iron fence. “Okay, go inside and up to your room but away from the window!” He pushed her through the door into the kitchen.

“Okay!” Reagan yelled back.

“Yes, Ms. Downing. She is fine, I promise. Stupid guy tripped when he fell off the fence and broke his ankle. We have moved to a safe house in case he is not working alone.”

“Let me talk to Reagan, please,” Susan growled, defeated.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Dean walked to Reagan and handed her the phone.

“It’s okay. You’re not in trouble, kiddo,” he whispered. She took in a deep breath.

“Mommy?” The girl’s voice was quiet.

“Hello, sweet girl. Are you okay?”

“No. I mean, Dean and Benny saved me, but I’m scared.”

“I understand. I’m coming home, okay? I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay, Mommy.”

“Let me have the phone,” Dean gestured. Reagan offered the device back to her security guard. .

“Ma’am, I can’t allow you to come back here. We don’t know why the person tried to attack. Yes, he is caught, but who knows if there is something else going on.”

“Winchester! She is my daughter, and she was almost attacked.”

“I am very aware of that, Ms. Downing. And I’m so sorry that we didn’t catch him before he got on the property. We have increased her security and have taken other precautions as well.”

“If a hair on her head-“

“Understood. Please stay where you are. I’ll have Sam take good care of you while you are separated from Reagan. I promise.”

“Call me every hour with updates, are we clear?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

————-

“I’m so sorry, baby. Do you feel okay now?”

“Yeah, we had to move houses though. I don’t like it.” She shrugged.

“I know. But it is to keep you safe.”

“Okay.”

Over the next few days Reagan and her security team stayed at the secondary house.

“Can I go to school, Winnie?”

“Not yet,” Dean huffed, sad for her.

“Why?”

Benny barged in.

“Security alert, northwest corner, upstairs window!”

“Reagan, come here!” Dean dragged her to the center of the house. Dean pulled his gun out. He heard glass breaking in the upstairs bedroom.

Senator Downing’s room. Italicize

“Come here,” he pulled her into the secure basement and yelled for Charlie to follow. “Stay inside with her until I come back.”

“Winnie!” Reagan cries out for her favorite bodyguard as Charlie forced her body to move behind a door and locking it. “No!”

“Breathe, kiddo. You have to breathe.”

“Winnie could get hurt!”

“He’s Batman. Batman never gets hurt.” Charlie smiled st the girl. “You know he is Batman because you’re who?” She raised a brow with a smirk on her face.

“Robin.”

“Let’s just hang out here. Look, we have a full room down here.” Charlie turned so that Reagan could view the whole basement, a small apartment, really. They heard a loud boom and Reagan cowered, latching onto Charlie. “We’re safe. That door won’t let anyone in.”

A few minutes later Dean yelled, “Poughkeepsie 1-9-6-7!” On hearing the code word, Charlie used the heavy lever to open the door. Dean was bloody.

“Winnie!” Reagan gasped and ran into his arms. “Are you okay? Is the bad guy out there?” Her voice level wavered.

“Hey, it’s okay. Yes, I am fine and the bad guy was taken to the bad guy place. It’s alright. I promise.” The ten year-old was getting in his arms, but she cried rivers onto his reddened shirt, leaving him no choice but to continue holding her.

“We need to go. I know this is hard, but we get to go back to your house at the Embassy. We made sure no one can break in again. Can you go sit with Charlie while I make sure everyone is okay?”

Reagan nodded.

Even after extra precautions had been taken, Reagan was not permitted to go to school. Her homeschool teacher was mean and intolerable of anything other than focused, hard work.

“Forget you!” Reagan stood from her chair and walked down the hall.

“REAGAN!” Dean shouted after her. She walked up the stairs, and went into her mom’s room. “What in the heck was that?”

“It’s her fault. Mommy didn’t have to take this job. I miss school! Her job makes me scared! I miss my friends and my normal stuff!”

Dean inhaled.

“I’m sorry.”

Taken aback by his sweet response, she could tell he didn’t want her in this situation either.

“Dean, why?”

“I don’t know, Rae. I really don’t. But I do know that you can’t talk to your teacher like that. If you have a problem with your mom, you need to tell her, not get mad at the teacher. You understand?”

“Unmf.”

“Yeah, I get it, kiddo. Now I think you have some apologizing to do and some math to learn, yes?” Dean raised a brow, expecting a specific answer.

“But-“

“Try again,” he widened his stance.

“Fine.”

When it was deemed safe for both Downing family members to be home, the ambassador was welcomed by Dean at the door.

“Hi, Senator. Glad to be home?”

“Yes, thank you.” She stepped in as Sam bright her luggage behind her. “Are you sure it’s safe?”

“I wouldn’t have brought Reagan back here if we didn’t put extra security measures in place.”

“I appreciate that.” As she entered the foyer, Reagan happened to walk through.

“Hi, Mommy.” Reagan continued walking to the stairs.

“What was that?” The senator looked toward Dean.

“Ma’am, I think that’s a conversation for you two. We will take your bags, go say hi to her.” Dean offered a weak smile.

“That bad, huh?”

Ms. Downing ascended up the stairs and opened her daughter’s room door.

“Hey, pumpkin.”

“Hi, Mommy.” Reagan looked up from a magazine she was reading.

“Are you mad?”

“About what?”

“I know I’ve been gone a lot. And it’s been scary. But I couldn’t come home, sweetheart. Dean and Sam don’t know what’s going on, so they didn’t want me here. Now it’s safe. I’ll be home for a while. Would you like to watch a movie?”

“No, thanks.” Reagan looked back down at her magazine. “DEAN!” The bodyguard walked into her room. “Can we go get ice cream?”

Dean looked to Reagan’s mom. She sighed and turned.

“Sure, sweetheart. Let’s go.”

At the ice cream parlor, Dean took a deep breath before starting this conversation.

“I need you to listen to me,” he stated lowly.

“Yeah?” Reagan licked her ice cream cone and glanced at him.

“Your mom missed you terribly while she was gone. She was gone for weeks to keep YOU safe.”

“It’s not my fault she took this job. Mom did. I get to be in this too. Lucky me,” Reagan sighed.

“You’re not listening to what I’m saying. You interrupted me.”

“Fine, yes, I’m listening.”

“You’ve been through a lot, but so has she. All of those decisions about you and your safety had to be made thousands of miles away. Your mom couldn’t be here to make you feel safe,” Dean watched for Reagan’s reaction.

“You make me feel safe. She just bosses me around when I get in trouble. You actually care about me,” Reagan admitted. “I don’t like her.”

“Reagan…”

“You told me not to lie. I’m not lying. But I can be nice.”

“I appreciate all of those things you told me, but when we get home, I want you to invite your mom to watch a movie. Or do your nails, or whatever. I am off the clock soon, so I expect you to do this on your own,” Dean stared at her.

“Okay,” Reagan shrugged.

“Thank you,” Dean cleaned up his melted ice cream on the table. “Let’s go.”

“Mom?” Reagan and Dean took off their jackets. The two walked into the living room after climbing many stairs.

“Hi, sweetie. How was your ice cream?” The senator stood from the couch and walked to greet Reagan and her bodyguard.

“Yes, it was good.”

“My shift is ending. Charlie should be coming on soon if you need anything. Have a good evening.” Dean smiled and exited.

“Thanks, Winchester,” the mom waved.

“Can we watch that movie? Which one did you want to watch?” Reagan nervously asked her.

“Oh, I thought you didn’t want to. Sure. You like The Princess Diaries, right?”

“I haven’t seen that in a while. Dean refuses to watch it with me,” Reagan laughed. “Can we have popcorn?”

“Absolutely. Why don’t you go get your pajamas on, and I’ll get everything set up,” her mom smiled.

“Cool, be right back.” Reagan ran up the stairs and changed her clothes. She grabbed her stuffed Winnie the Pooh and ran to meet her mom again in the living room.

“Who is that?” Reagan’s mom asked her, looking at the thing tucked under her daughter’s arm.

“Winnie got it for me. It’s Winnie the Pooh.”

“That is very cool, Rae. Thanks for sharing that with me,” Susan smiled at the connection she had made with her daughter. As Susan started the movie, she felt her daughter snuggle into her and relax her body. “I’m so sorry I missed these last few weeks. I’ll be around more. Dean promised that he and Sam will be extra careful about keeping us safe.”

“Okay, Mommy. Love you.”

“Love you too, Reagan.”

Sam was on Reagan’s detail the next day.

“Where’s Dean?”

“I’m not cool enough for you?” Sam laughed. “Come on, time for school.”

“Fine,” Reagan sighed. “Is he okay? He was supposed to come today. He sai he would see me today.”

“He’s sick. That’s why you got me today.”

“Winnie?” Reagan called him on the way to school.

“Hi, Rae. Is everything okay?”

“She wanted to call and make sure you were okay,” said said into the car speaker.

“Oh, thank you, sweetheart. I have the flu.”

“Okay, then maybe you should sleep.” Reagan pouted knowing she woudn’t see her friend for a few days.

“I’m okay, your mom made me take time off.”

“Yeah, ‘cuz you wouldn’t if she didn’t tell you to!” Sam laughed.

“Don’t come back til you feel good, Winnie!” Reagan told him protectively.

“Wow, you’re all ganging up on me,” Dean started coughing.

“Go to bed, Dean,” Sam advised.

“Yeah, be good,” Reagan laughed.

“Wow, you two are really laying down the law over there,” Dean laughed but continued his coughing.

“Okay, we’re off to school. Love you, buddy!” Sam ended the call.

“He doesn’t sound so good.”

“Maybe we can bring him soup,” Reagan suggested.

“No, you will not be bringing him soup. You’ll get sick. But if you want to make him a card after school, you can do that. Okay, let’s get out, time for school!” Sam said energetically.

“No…” Reagan whined playfully.

Three days later, Dean showed up to clock in.

“Hi, Winnie!” YN wrapped her arms around him.

“Hey, Reagan!”

As they settled in, the girl reported what she and her mom had done together since he had been gone.

“Good job, Rae! Proud of you.”

“She isn’t so bad. Mom’s been around more. She even said I could go to France with her on my spring break!” Reagan let go and bounced on the balls of her feet.

“That’s awesome!”

“I’m so excited!

Sam and Dean led the team of security on the trip to Europe. Reagan took everything in as they walked down the street. As the group was guided into a government building, gunshots were heard.

“Ms. Downing!” Sam screamed. The political figure fell to the ground. Sam dragged her into the building and Dean shielded Reagan from the commotion outside.

“Mom!” Reagan screeched. Sam lied her down on the carpet in the lobby. The team didn’t see any blood.

“I’m okay,” Susan whispered. I’m not hurt,” she calmed them. With guards covering the entrance, Sam and Dean looked her over.

“No wounds,” Dean affirmed. “She’s okay, Reagan.”

Dean looked over to the young girl as she ran into his arms. Reagan cried quietly into his suit jacket.

“Thank you,” Susan said, “for being so damn protective,” she smiled.

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