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recurring-polynya · 3 years ago

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In tHiaM, Renji mentioned a fictional fateful encounter in which he and Rukia met in the circus. I can picture this deeply. The Rukon has circuses. It has gritty knife throwers, it has scrappy beast tamers, it has a lovely doe-eyed tightrope walker who does stunts so dangerous your hair'd turn white just watching her. It is for Renji's birthday so he should get Rukia being extremely badass and saving his life from a rampaging circus bear. Ideally, Kenpachi is there.

A lot of times, I’ll have some idea for a story, and I’ll do a bit of research and find out that the thing I wanted to do absolutely does not exist in Japanese culture, and I was completely sure that when I dug into it, Japanese circuses would not be a thing, or they would be extremely different from Western circuses, but as it turns out, circuses were absolutely a thing in the Edo era, and they had acrobats and strongmen and horseriding and more. I had so many tabs open about circuses, and almost none of it actually made it into this fanfic.

Anyway, THANK YOU ALOPEX, you know what I like to write, and what I like to write is Renji telling rambling stories of questionable veracity. I put in some lifting for good measure. This might be the most perfect Renji birthday story.

If it isn’t immediately evident, this takes place in the middle of the Advance Team Arc, or more specifically, in the middle of my Advance Team Arc story, See You on the Other Side, where Renji tells Chad a different RenRuki origin story that’s basically the desert bandit subplot from Crouching Tiger, and also a story about bees.

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Renji hefted the last bumper plate onto the end of the barbell and tightened the collar. Chad watched him with narrowed eyes.

“You sure you want to try this?” Renji asked. “One thousand pounds. It’s the weight limit for this bar. Once you beat this, we gotta go back to Urahara’s place and pick up big rocks.”

Apparently, Chad worked part time at his gym, which meant he had a key, which meant that he and Renji could go in at two a.m. so that Renji could teach him how to lift absurd amounts of weight with his reiatsu. It was pretty convenient, as long as you didn’t mind lifting weights at two a.m. Renji loved lifting weights at two a.m.

“You just don’t want to tell me another story,” Chad replied, flexing his shoulders in anticipation.

“Whatever, I got a million of them.” Renji took a few steps backward.

Chad flared his nostrils and stepped up to the barbell. He squatted down and curled his fingers around the grip. He took three deep breaths as he stared straight again. Leading with his hips, he straightened up in a smooth, textbook perfect movement, the sinews in his neck popping out, the air around him boiling with power.

Renji wished he could drag Chad over to Squad Six, so those spoiled weenies could see what hard work actually looked like.

Chad dropped the weight and a huge breath burst out of him, his eyes widening in relief. “I did it,” he gasped.

“You did it, buddy!” Renji shouted, pointing at the barbell. “You’re a machine! You didn’t even make it look hard!”

“It was hard,” Chad managed.

“I don’t believe it!” Renji continued. “One thousand pounds! You’re incredible, dude!”

“What do you mean, you don’t believe it? You told me to do it.”

“I mean, when I told you we were gonna work for the big one-kay, it was, you know, a stretch goal. I didn’t expect you to get there so fast!”

“You said you would tell me another story when I hit it! I assumed it was a reasonable goal.”

“I keep making unreasonable goals and you keep hitting them, so I’m just sort of winging it, now, t’be honest! I’m actually really bothered how much you are motivated by my dumb stories. If I had any human money, I would just offer to buy you tacos or something.”

“I can make my own tacos. I like the stories.”

Renji sighed. They didn’t have tacos in Soul Society and he was determined to eat as many tacos as he possibly could while he was stationed in the Living World. “Go get cleaned up, and I’ll put the weights away and try to decide which story to tell you this time. I did bring us some protein shakes. I can’t vouch for them, because they’re made out of stuff I found in the Shouten, but it’s important to get some calories in you after lifting. ”

“I’m sure they’re fine. I like your protein shakes. Oh, and I know which story I want to hear--how you met Rukia.”

Of course he did.

Renji was a man of many stories. He had so many good stories. He had Inuzuri stories that were full of mischief and dirtbaggery. He had Squad 11 stories that were full of headbutting and idiocy. He had interesting stories about his clever friends Izuru and Momo and funny stories about his goofy friend Shuuhei and horrible stories about his horrible friends Iba and Madarame. But Chad had asked him once how he met their mutual friend Kuchiki Rukia, a very reasonable and natural thing to ask, and Renji had responded with a ridiculous story that was very obviously not true. Now, all Chad wanted to hear was ostentatious lies about how he, Abarai Renji, had met the incomparable Kuchiki Rukia.

Renji racked his brain as he racked Chad’s weights. This would probably make the eighth or ninth Renji-Rukia origin story, he’d honestly lost count. He was running out of material. There was a bulletin board next to the weight storage rack, covered with flyers for a weightlifting tournament in Naruki City, the Karakura High kendo team, tumbling lessons. Renji stared at the picture of the girl in the sparkly leotard on the last one. He thought about how he and the gang used to make up stories of how they were gonna make it out of Inuzuri some day. He thought about Rukia’s absolute favorite, the one she told over and over, the way it got bigger and sparklier every time she told it.

Chad returned, a tracksuit zipped overtop his workout clothes. “Need help?” he asked.

“This is the last one,” Renji replied, hefting it up onto the shelf. “You can put the bar away, though.”

Chad did.

It was kinda nice, Renji thought, being in a gym in the middle of the night with Chad. It reminded him of hunching over his dorm room desk across from Izuru, cramming for written exams. It reminded him of achy muscles in a dim Fifth Company dojo, trying to figure out the mechanics of Zabimaru’s shikai deep into the wee hours. It reminded him of long runs with Ikkaku as the sun was just peaking over the city walls. The hours between dusk and dawn were a pretty good time for doing things, in Renji’s opinion.

“So, did you remember? How you met her?”

“Of course I remember!” Renji protested. “You think I would forget something like that?”

“You do get hit on the head a lot,” Chad rumbled gently and it took Renji a moment to realize he just got dragged. Chad was actually a really funny guy, you just had to pay attention.

Renji plopped down on a pile of mats and started rummaging around in his backpack for the two bottles of questionable nutritional substance he had mixed up earlier. “Well, I certainly remember the time I ran away from home and joined the circus, I’ll tell you that.” It was a good opening line, and he paused a few seconds to get the full effect.

“The circus?” Chad echoed skeptically, sitting down next to Renji and accepting his smoothie.

“The circus,” Renji replied after taking a long swig. It was very, very strawberry flavored. “So. I think I mentioned once that when I died I got sent to the shit-end of Rukongai. District 78 of the Southern Quadrant, where your best hope is to die soon and catch an express trip back to the Living World. I was too dumb and stubborn for that, though, so I was always on the lookout for a way out. Now, it’s pretty hard to move between districts in Rukongai-- it’s illegal without a special permit, see, and special permits get harder to get the further out you go. But there are a few kinds of permits that allow you to travel all up and down Soul Society, and one of those is for entertainers.”

This was more-or-less true. It was true in theory, but travelling shows never made it out to the deep Rukon-- there was no profit in it. Rukia used to swear up and down that a circus had made it to Inuzuri once, basically just passing through on their way to capture wild animals from the magical wilderness past the end of District 80, but she had seen it. Rukia was older than the rest of them, and she used to talk about it in such nauseating detail that they had no choice but to believe her.

“When I saw the posters plastered up all over town, my first thought was that it was an opportunity to pick up some quick kan as temporary labor. My primary job skill at the time was picking up heavy objects, you see, perhaps moving them from place to place. Circuses always need help with set up and tear down. I mean, do I look like a theater kid?”

Chad stared at him pointedly.

“I don’t know why I asked that,” Renji quickly corrected, “but also, keep in mind that I am Like This because I was in the circus, not the other way around. Anyway, my instincts were correct, and I found myself gainfully employed, carting crates and also tying and untying knots, another of my many talents. But then two things, or rather two someones made me decide that I needed to hitch my star to this ridiculous pageant. The first, I will admit, was a complete castle in the sky, but what is being an adolescent boy about if not chasing after hopeless dreams?”

Chad frowned. “Well. There’s school.”

“There is no school in Inuzuri, actually, and perhaps that would have kept me out of trouble, but instead, I became absolutely entranced by the glittering star of the show-- a tightrope walker of exceptional agility, grace, and beauty. Her most defining characteristic, though, was her audacity. There was no trick too dangerous for her. She somersaulted through hoops of fire. She juggled daggers. She’d stop halfway across the tightrope, pull out a tokkari, and pour herself a saucer of sake and drink it, while the audience gasped.”

“It was Kuchiki,” Chad guessed, the corner of his mouth tipping up into his shy grin.

“It was Rukia,” Renji agreed, “but imagine Rukia in head-to-toe spangles, with bells in her hair and glitter painted around her eyes, 20 feet in the air. She was unreal. She was an apparition, a spirit. I was desperate to meet her.”

“Did you?” asked Chad.

“Chad,” said Renji.

“What?”

“Did you just… did you just ask me if I ever managed to meet Rukia? Your friend and mine, Kuchiki Rukia? In the middle of this story about how I met Rukia?”

Chad thought for a moment. “It’s two a.m. and I just deadlifted a thousand pounds.”

“That’s fair, and the answer is yes, eventually, I did meet Rukia and she saved me from being eaten by a bear, but we’ll get to that. Are you drinking that protein shake?”

“Oh, sorry! It’s really good, I just keep forgetting because this story is a good one.” Chad took a long sip. “Hey, Abarai?”

“Yeah?”

“Sorry to interrupt again, but I have a question about the bear.”

“The bear is later.”

“Yeah, I realize that, but does the bear die?”

“Huh?”

“I’m just asking up front, because I don’t like stories where animals die, and if the bear gets hurt or dies, maybe could you skip over that part?”

“Oh! No, the bear is fine. Well, he’s probably reincarnated back into a living bear by now, he was pretty old even then. I exaggerated a little to make it sound dramatic, he probably wouldn’t have eaten me in any case.”

“Okay, you can go back to the story now, I just wanted to make sure. Thank you.”

“No, no, it’s cool. I’m glad you checked in.” Renji took a deep breath through his nose and mentally rearranged his story so that Rukia no longer defeated the beast in a dramatic knife fight. “Right. So, as I said, there was a second person at the circus who influenced me greatly and that was the most famous strongman in the entire Rukon, Zaraki Kenpachi--”

“Wait, Captain Zaraki? Big guy? With the bells in his hair?”

Oh, shit. “Uh, yeah. That’s a circus thing, you know. Hair bells. You, uh, know Captain Zaraki?”

“Yeah, Orihime made friends with him, and he broke us out of prison, but then we split up because there was someone he wanted to fight.”

“That sounds like him. Anyway, yeah, he’s in this story, too. I used to be in his squad, you know?”

“I gathered that from the way Madarame and Ayasegawa talk to you.”

“He helped me get in the Gotei, you see. Because of our time together in the circus. That’s a different story, though, we’re focusing on circus times, here. He wasn’t even the Kenpachi, yet, actually. One of the reasons he’s so strong is because before he was a fighter, he lifted things, heavy things. He did all the typical strongman stuff-- bending iron bars, biting through teacups, tearing packs of cards in half, but his most famous trick was balancing bamboo poles on his shoulders and then various acrobats and other performers would scramble up on them and do tricks from on top of him. He was wildly popular, pictured on all the posters. People would come to the circus just to see him. I did not have a lot going for me at this point of my life, but I was strong, and when I saw this guy, it occurred to me that if I could get him to take me on as some sort of apprentice, I might finally be able to use my strength to get out of that shitty town.”

“Seems like a good plan.”

“It did. It seemed like a good plan, except that Zaraki had a very busy schedule of getting drunk and napping when he wasn’t lifting things, and he was absolutely not interested in Inuzuri punks who had been hired to move crates around.”

“So, what did you do?”

“Well, speaking of Inuzuri punks, I may have been a fairly honest and hardworking fellow, but one day, a couple of my reprobate neighbors decided to sneak in and try to get a glimpse of some of the wild animals. The fellow who looked after the menagerie was a little guy by the name of Mameji. Very kind and loved the animals deeply, but not very good at standing up for himself. I barely knew him, but I don’t like bullies, and I owed most of those guys a punch in the nose anyway. Mameji was pretty grateful for the solid I did him and asked if there was any favor he could do me in return. Naturally, I asked if he knew Zaraki, but unfortunately, he was terrified of the guy, so I told him I was just happy to do a good deed and make a friend.”

“You should have asked him if he knew Rukia. Rukia likes animals.”

“You’re very smart, Sado, but remember that this story is about me, not you. It didn’t matter anyway, because the next day, he comes to find me and says there’s someone who wants to talk to me. I can’t imagine who he means, aside from holding out hope that maybe he did know Zaraki after all and was just slow-rolling me.”

“But it was Rukia.”

“It was. Mameji leads me over to the area where the animals are kept, and there, in a blue kimono embroidered with silver stars and crystals in her hair, was The Fearless Rukia.” Rukia’s circus stories were usually at least seventy-five percent descriptions of her outfits, and Renji felt obligated to keep up that detail. “‘You helped my friend out,’ she says to me. ‘I appreciate that.’ And I replied something very smooth and suave, like, ‘I like the way you do cartwheels’ or possibly just “Guuuuuuh.’ And then she says, ‘I hear you’re interested in Zaraki, what’s up with that?’ and as you know, I’m much better at talking about muscle stuff, so I explain about picking up heavy things and Inuzuri and my ambition to join the circus and she just listens carefully, nodding from time to time. She makes me pick up a few barrels and then Mameji, for good measure, and finally, she nods and says, ‘You’re pretty strong and I like your hair. Come back here tomorrow. I’m going to help you impress Zaraki.’”

Chad’s eyes sparkled with anticipation.

“So, the next day, I came back, like she said, and Mameji was there, too and they’ve got this big sack of yams. I’ve told you before about eatin’ in Soul Society, right?”

Chad nodded and belatedly took another gulp of his shake.

“My initial thought was that they were gonna try to bulk me up. Raw yams may not sound very exciting to you, but after years of living on near-moldy rice and the occasional sad vegetable or bony fish, I was watering at the mouth. ‘You’re gonna feed these yams to Sunny,’ says Rukia. ‘Who?’ says I. ‘His stage name is Brawler,’ says Rukia, ‘But he’s a good boy so Mameji and I call him Sunny. It’s a joke. Because he’s a moon bear.’ Brawler, you see, was the second scariest thing in the circus, right after Zaraki-- the biggest, ugliest moon bear you can possibly imagine, probably 200 kilograms. A lot of circus bears do tricks-- balance on balls or some shit, but Brawler’s only trick was looking mean as Hell. Sometimes they’d throw him a deer haunch and he’d eat it in a real gross way, I guess people like seeing stuff like that. I, like most people growing up on the southern border of the Rukon, had a healthy fear of large carnivores, but I had a much larger fear of looking like a weenie in front of Rukia, and I was determined I was gonna do whatever she told me to. The first time wasn’t so bad-- I just tossed the yams in and he snuffled over and gave me the hairy eyeball before snorfling them up. We did that the next day, too, but the day after that, Mameji took me into his enclosure to give him his yams. I was a little surprised, you see, because I would have expected a bear like that to eat meat or something like that, but he sure did like those yams.”

“Moon bears are omnivores,” Chad supplied. “They like sweet things.”

“You’re right, and I later found out that Sunny did get meat and other stuff at other times of day, but yams were his absolute favorite thing. Again, Rukia did not tell me this, because Rukia often neglects to tell me important things. I found all of this to be absolutely terrifying, and I probably would have given up and stuck to my crate moving, except that Rukia and Mameji were just about the nicest and amazing people I had ever met. They let me hang out with them for a bit and they told me stories about traveling with the circus and I told them about Inuzuri. They introduced me to their other friends, Fujimaru, who could do all sorts of knife throwing tricks, and Kosaburou, who had the most beautiful singing voice you could possibly imagine. By the time Rukia asked me to give Sunny the yams right out of my hand, I was doin’ it, not because I was desperate to get out of Inuzuri, but because I was desperate to do anything to stay with my new friends.”

Renji paused and pretended to be interested in his protein shake. Usually, he tried to fill these stories with a lot of daring-do and badassery, but he’d gotten a little off-track when had to junk his big exciting Rukia versus Bear fight scene. All he could think of was lying around the squat on miserable rainy days, one-upping each other with stories about their ridiculous circus acts. He hadn’t thought about those days-- hadn’t let himself think about those days-- in years. What a sap he was turning into. Maybe it was because Rukia was back in his life. Maybe it was because there was a war coming, a war he might not make it through. Maybe it was because it was two a.m.

“I know how that feels,” Chad said very quietly, so quietly that Renji almost didn’t catch it, and it occurred to Renji that maybe sometimes it helped to hear a sappy story at 2 a.m.

Renji snorted softly. “So, the day before the circus was set to pack up, Rukia explains her big plan to me. Up until now, I’ve sort of been assuming that this is all an exercise in building courage or some gonzo shit like that, but it turns out it’s very straightforward. Zaraki’s dream the whole time he’s been in the circus is to pick up Sunny as part of his act, except that Sunny has zero interest in being picked up and ends up chewing on Zaraki’s head every time he tries. If Zaraki had ever bothered asking Mameji for help, maybe he could have tried the old yam trick himself, but then this wouldn’t be much of a story.

“I wait ‘til the big guy is done with his nap and is prepping for the night’s performance, inventorying his lead pipes and such, and I go up to him and I say, ‘Zaraki the Great, I am very strong, you should take me on as your apprentice!’ Now, Rukia had seen people do this to him before, and she knew that he always came back with ‘Oh, yeah? Do something to impress me, then.’ Of course, I was prepared, and I said, ‘I am going to pick up Brawler, would that do it?’ and Zaraki laughs in my face and says ‘If you can do that, I will definitely take you on, kid.’”

Chad’s face had split into a huge grin and he leaned forward in anticipation.

“We go over to Sunny’s pen, and of course, Mameji’s already given him his dinner and he’s feelin’ real fat and happy when he sees his old yam buddy Renji coming. I slip him a yam that I had tucked in my sleeve and I start rubbin’ his side, which is a thing we’d been practicin’. He leans into it, ‘cause he was a big, itchy boy, and I just… flipped him and picked him up like a baby.” Renji made a scooping motion to demonstrate. Chad’s face absolutely lit up. “He was incredibly heavy and also he did not really like that,” Renji continued, “but I put him down right away and gave him another yam and he forgave me. Zaraki was laughin’ his ass off, but he kept his word and got me signed on as a Strongman-in-Training. We went on to have many more adventures, both me an’ Zaraki and me an’ Rukia an’ Mameji an’ Kosaburou and Mameji.”

“And Sunny.”

“Sunny continued to be a hideous, angry bear for the crowds, but I kept giving him yams and never picked him up again and we were great friends for the time we spent together in the circus.”

Chad sat back, smiling his usual inscrutable smile. “Thank you, Abarai. That was a really good one.”

Renji cocked an eyebrow at him. “Was it?”

“Yes. It had friendships and a nice bear and I felt like Rukia would really appreciate the effort you put into describing all her outfits. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t true, but it was a good story.”

Renji heaved a big sigh, as though he’d honestly thought Chad was gonna buy it this time. He stretched his arms and legs out in front of him. “Let’s go home. I could go for a few hours of sleep before the Shouten Shouting starts. You’re taking a rest day tomorrow, but don’t forget to stretch.”

“The last time I had a rest day, you came over and you taught me some stuff about reiryouku.”

“Did I?” Renji frowned.

“Can we do that again? You said you would try to explain how flash step works.”

Shit, he did remember promising that. He’d just gotten overenthusiastic because it was nice to be the guy who knew things for a change. On the other hand, he also remembered the enthusiasm of going to school for the first time and wanting to know everything, and could hardly fault Chad for the same. “Sure,” he agreed. “After noon.”

“Let’s make it noon,” Chad amended. “I’ll make you tacos.”

“That,” replied Renji, “is a deal.”

#renji's birthday 2k21 #my writing #chad-renji brotp #i honestly hope that over in soul society rukia shot awake #she gets a +2 to badassery every time renji tells a story about her

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shaymcsudonim · 4 years ago

Text

Black Clover as a Deconstruction of the Shonen Heroes Journey

(Readmore break isn’t working for me. Will try to fix later. Press J to skip.)

So, most people have noticed this pattern in Black Clover...

...and, to be fair, so did I, when I first started watching.

I saw the first five or six episodes, went, ‘tHiS iS wIzArD nArUtO,’ then didn’t watch any more for months, until I finally got bored enough to watch the rest for laughs.

And then, of course, I got blown away by the genuine bonds of affection and respect between the characters.

(also, I eventually got used to Asta’s yelling, so that helped).

But, until you put in the time investment, you don’t put the dots together that Black Clover is actually a deconstruction of the Shonen Manga Heroes Journey.

You can see pieces of it in Patri and the Cult of Personality he that built in the Eye of the Midnight Sun.

Though, admittedly, it’s less obvious in Fana, Rhya, and Vetto, who are all blinded by grief to the point where they’ve all but lost any compassion they originally possessed.

Indeed, the entire point of them in the first arc is that they’ve been traumatized enough to invert their personalities completely.

No, this extreme devotion to a single figurehead was best demonstrated in the three main humans in the Eye of the Midnight Sun: Sally, Valtos, and Rades.

The three of them demonstrated fanatical loyalty to Patri: Valtos because he saved him, Sally because he allows her to pursue her passions, and Rades I’m pretty sure it was just because Patri gave him the opportunity to use his magic freely.

This ‘cult of personality’ tactic, of course, is one very often employed by Shonen Protagonists, because it’s much easier than showing the character development necessary to turn an enemy into a genuine ally.

And, while I was committed to seeing the show through unless it got really stupid, there was also a sense. of, ‘oh, now the darkness starts’ when Patri sacrificed his three human followers to further his own plans. That this cold-blooded sacrifice was a part of the plan all along.

Honestly, I think the first place I truly started to have faith in Tabata’s writing was when Rades resurrected himself, Valtos, and Sally. The pieces had all been there from the start. We all knew that his magic was zombie magic.

But It was also patently obvious that those three were sacrificed to demonstrate Patri’s assholeish nature to the audience, and reduce the number of characters, making the logistics of the upcoming fights simpler. So, while I wasn’t happy about the gratuitous death, I had accepted it.

But then Rades said, ‘no, I am the hero of my own story, and my story is about revenge,’ and I cannot tell you how wide I smiled. It wasn’t just Rades saying that, it was Tabata saying that he values his side characters, even the minor 1st arc villains.

Then there’s the Zogratis siblings, the fact that they’re siblings, in the truest sense of the word. They fight together, they rule together, they’re more than capable of executing a multi-pronged attack which must have required extensive planning and teamwork. Even Zenon, the coldest of the three, goes to check on Dante, and saves him from the Black Bulls.

Though we’ve yet to get the full picture, they even seem to have good relationships with their devils. Zenon’s a brick wall, of course, but Dante and Lucifero clearly talk to each other, and Megicula and Vanica openly express affection for one another. From what we’ve seen so far, the Zogratis siblings seem to, at the bare minimum, respect each other and the devils that they host.

They’re still blood knights who would cause the apocalypse for the sake of finding strong opponents, yeah, but wanting ‘to fight strong opponents and help my friends’ has been the primary motive of many an anime protagonist. It just usually gets tempered by common sense and/or compassion.

So, with the major villains at least, they exemplify many of the virtues often given to anime protagonists. Not to say that they don’t have flaws, but their flaws are not those of the typical villain.

In contrast, many of the Heroes in Black Clover possess attributes normally seen in villains.

Consider the Black Bulls: Asta, the Freak of Nature; Noelle the Unfavorite Noble Child; Magna, the Thug; Luck, the Blood Knight; Gauche, the Sexual Deviant; Vanessa, the Drunk; Finral, the Womanizer; Grey, the Shapeshifter; Charmy, the Glutton; Gordon, the Creepy Guy; Zora, the Avenger; Henry the Vampire.

(Also Nacht, the Summoner, though the jury’s still out on him)

Asta’s comrades are all people who easily could have been villains, whether through their powers, their personalities, or simply their trauma.

But they weren’t. And this is at least partly due to another aspect of the series that I admire.

Everyone is special.

[ID: Emmet from the Lego Move next to a quote reading, “You don’t have to be the bad guy. You are the most TALENTED, most INTERESTING, and most EXTRAORDINARY person in the universe. AND YOU ARE CAPABLE OF AMAZING THINGS. because you are the Special. And so am I. And so is everyone. The prophecy is made up, but it’s also true. It’s about all of us. Right now, it’s about you. And you can still change everything.” end ID]

That is to say, the villains aren’t the only ones to have aspects attributed to the typical shonen protagonist. And neither is Asta, as it turns out. He gets determination, resilience, and compassion, of course, but he’s far from the only one.

In fact, his journey is made far easier by the ‘compassionate protagonists’ who came before him.

Starting as far back as we can in the timeline, we’re left with the Clover Nobles and their xenocide against the elves. Evil, tragic, and it should have never happened. Not to mention, it allowed the Nobles to hoard resources in the form of stolen mana, which they then passed on to their descendants.

But, even after the worst had happened, Nero and Lumiere’s sacrifices eventually led to Zagred’s downfall. (And to the survival of one of Licht and Tetia’s children.)

Then, centuries later, came Zara Ideale. A man who worked tirelessly as the first commoner wizard cop, only to be killed by his elitist comrades in the purple orcas.

This could have led his son, Zora Ideale, down a dark path, but instead he devoted his life to protecting the citizens of the kingdom from the same corrupt magic knights that got his father killed.

And that’s without even mentioning how when Julius Novachrono became Wizard King, he reformed the merit recognition system to mitigate the amount of harm the noble magic knights could do to their commoner comrades’ careers, to prevent what happened to Zara from happening to others. In the present day, multiple magic knight captains (Yami and Jack) are commoners, as are many of the magic knights in general.

Not to mention Yami, in particular, formed a squad out of outcasts, to provide the support system that he never had as a young man.

And all of this happened before the main character has even started on his heroes journey.

I could say a lot more words about how this demonstrates Tabata’s recognition of the fact that many of the problems with the Homestuck Quadrant Kingdoms are systemic, and that they won’t be solved with only a few good people working against them, which is why Asta still has a lot to do in his own quest to be Wizard King.

...but really, what I wanted to do was say that, after reading the 267 leaks, it doesn’t surprise me one bit that AMD may be a better person than previously implied by the manga.

(heck, they did the same thing with Zora, when he was introduced).

Even though AMD seems motivated by a need for vengeance, is undeniably prone to fits of blackout rage, appears altogether too interested in possessing Asta’s body, and these are, indeed, traits that fit more with the aesthetic of a villain... I’m pretty sure AMD’s got the traumatic backstory of a true anime protagonist.

As I’ve said before, simply having an aspect typically attributed to a hero does not automatically mean AMD will be a fully heroic character. But, as was mentioned before, he also has a lot of common villainous traits.

And in Black Clover, a character with a villain archetype will more often than not side with and/or join the Black Bulls.

#black clover #black clover spoilers #lego movie spoilers #meta #long post #black clover 267 #spoilers #readmore doesn't seem to be working #i'll try and figure it out later #press j to skip

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capricornus-rex · 5 years ago

Text

The Flicker of Rebellion (4)

Requested by: @calkesttiss | Prompt:

Ooo what about Cal and reader going undercover and having to wear inquisitor or trooper uniforms

Cal Kestis x Reader

1 | 2 | Previous: Part 3 | Next: Part 5 - End | Masterlist

4 of ?

The elevator door whirred and jerked back into its frame, the four of you step out of the lift and reviewed the map again.

“From where we stand, we just head straight north,” Cal directed.

“The vault is located at the west wing of this area. It’s at the end of the path,” you add.

Cal turned his attention to your two Stormtrooper decoys, “You two will have to cover us by the time we get to the vault. Make sure no one gets past, understood?”

“Yessir!”

All of you continued on, no slip-ups so far, hence the act is still holding up well. You remember what Fane told you before you left the ship. The vault is possibly one of the many areas your access card cannot take you to.

Along the way, more and more eyes were glued to you. Small groups of Stormtroopers cease their gossiping just to look at you. Officers would look over their shoulders once they’ve walked far enough from you. Cal can sense the anxiety and suspicion that they exude, but you had to continue on.

“You there! Excuse me!”

An officer was bold enough to stop you in your tracks. You looked over your shoulder and an elderly officer comes charging towards you.

“I haven’t seen you until now. Who might you be?”

“Perhaps you haven’t received the memo. I’m the Sixth Sister,” you easily went back into character.

“I’m afraid I haven’t received the memo, indeed. What brings you here in Cheth?”

“I am here to oversee the operations in this planet.”

“Let me see your profile data card,”

“My what?”

“Your profile data card. Your identification records. Surely, you and your commander here have been issued one upon your arrival.”

You and Cal exchange glances.

Come on, think fast! The voice in your head cried as your heart pounded. But in that same moment, you’ve calmed yourself within and you played along.

“Of course,” you complied, until you wave your hand in front of the officer. “But you don’t really need to see our identification.”

A vibration brushed over the officer. His furrowed eyebrows relaxed.

“I don’t really need to see your identification.” He repeated.

Cal’s eyes widened, his lips slightly parted upon witnessing you pull off a Jedi mind trick for the first time. You wave your hand in front of him again, but you kept your hand close to your chest so there aren’t any witnesses aside from your companions. In addition, your voice was gradually sounding back to its original tone.

“You will leave us alone and not bother us anymore.”

“I will leave you alone and not bother you anymore.”

And another.

“This encounter never happened.”

The officer repeated your sentence in verbatim.

“Walk away and move along now.”

The officer did walk away. You beckoned everyone to keep moving. As for Cal, he kept looking over his shoulder and back to you.

“What was that back there?”

“Huh?”

“That!”

“Shh! Not so loud!”

“Since when did you know how to use the Jedi mind trick?”

“Well, I’ve only seen it from my master… during the Clone Wars. Ever since then, I’ve practiced on my own. I’ll teach you what I can once all this is over.”

Later on, you’ve reached the door to the vault, it was another large blast door. Apparently, the control panel of the door doesn’t recognize the card you have on hand. One of your Stormtroopers stepped forward.

“Excuse me, this is where I come in.”

It turns out one of your Stormtroopers was adept in overriding door controls—among other things in his expertise—you were inside the vault’s lobby in less than a minute. The guard at the terminal was startled by your presence, but he didn’t sound the alarm yet as your disguise convinced him.

“Can I help you?”

Another wave of your hand and you fixate your eyes onto the guard on deck.

“You will let us into this vault.”

The guard repeated your words and did as he was told. The blast door retracted open.

“You will keep this door open until we’re gone.”

The guard complied while under the influence of your Jedi mind trick. This is where your Stormtroopers’ cue comes in. They stand ground by the terminal, rifles at the ready.

A vast library of data cards revealed before you as you stepped inside the archives vault. They were stored in cascades, untouched and undisturbed except for a mechanical arm that is operated from the other side—the side where you and Cal stood.

“There’s got to be thousands of these!” Cal exclaimed.

“And we only need to find one…”

Cal took the initiative in finding the plan in the terminal computer while you took control of the mechanical arm’s lever. His fingers flicked in lightning speed on the keypad as he figures how to narrow down the search for the specific data card.

“The plans are labeled in codenames,” Cal blurted.

“Does it show any other kind of information other than the name?”

“The location!”

Cal typed away, expertly navigating his way through the search mode of the terminal—scrolling through multitudes of entries in the database, finding clues and guessing what kinds of codenames the Imps could ever come up with and use.

He muttered out the names as he scrolled through. Both of you flinched at the sound of a body thudding.

“What was that!?” you exclaimed.

“I knocked the guard out cold! He’s snapped out of it!”

“Won’t be long until we start having company!”

Suddenly, time started to feel like it was ticking faster. Cal picked up his pace and skimmed through the list until he found one that seemed the most convincing. His instincts were flaring when he saw the entry’s name.

“Find anything?”

“Project Frost… this has gotta be it! Gimme a sec, I’ll take one quick look.”

The entry showed a preview of the plan—at least the general parts of it—and it further debunked Cal’s presumption that it was the one they were looking for.

“How’d you know that is it?”

“The database entry shows an image of a planet and a map—the planet is the exact same as Ilum when we saw it in the conference.”

Without a doubt, Cal was right and he flashed the beacon of the database entry, revealing its position to you and so you turn the lever to the direction where the data card is.

“Guys! COMPANY!”

From behind, the sound of blasters was deafening and it nearly broke your focus. You narrowed your sights on the flashing light of the data card. A stray blaster hits the wall on your right, barely passing by a hair strand before meeting its mark; Cal finally brandishes his lightsaber and joined the volley, covering for you as you reach for the plans.

“Come on, come on…!” you hiss at yourself through clenched teeth.

Your heart skipped a beat when the arm clings onto the data card’s tray, the arm automatically delivers it to the receiving chute as you eagerly stood there watching the process. You snatched the data card in mere seconds before it actually touches the receiving tray.

“I GOT IT!”

Eventually, you ignited your own lightsaber and returned fire. The Stormtroopers afforded some banter when they saw what they’re dealing with.

“J-JEDI?!”

“THERE’S TWO OF THEM?!”

“Oh no… oh no no no no no…!”

“Not good!”

The Stormtroopers were twice as confused when they saw two of their supposed comrades are firing back at them. The moment you and Cal took out your sabers, their panic increased tenfold and outweighed their confusion with the Stormtrooper decoys. With every step forward for your small band, the Stormtroopers fell back as you thinned out their numbers.

“C’mon, we gotta get outta here!”

You and Cal took the lead, cutting down whatever stood in your path. An alarm blared across the halls, it was followed by a monotonous announcement.

“Assault Squadrons Six and Ten are required. Engage rebel fighters in Quadrant C.”

The announcement repeated itself over the alarm. The said squadrons poured out of nowhere, marching in complete unison, officers gave way to the dispatched squad as they strode through the hallways. In the back of your minds, the fighters have come through but you’re not sure how long they could hold up until reinforcements and transports arrive.

“They need our help,” Cal prompted.

Cal took the lead in heading out of the base. Retracing your steps of how you got inside in the first place, you avoided large groups and slipped into detours just so the group could avoid getting outnumbered, outgunned, and overpowered.

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glassesofroses · 5 years ago

Text

Chapter 3 || Stay

Peggy's P.O.V

I ran over to my friend who was barely breathing, but alive. A grin appeared on my face as I took in everything that has changed about her. The unexpected is now the expected. She was taller, she looked stronger, overall she looked way more healthy than she normally did. Howard ran over as he took in everything just as I did and we both helped her down to the floor. We were both pretty sure that she passed out from the pain but she rolled over so that her back was facing us.

"Did I win?" She mumbled, the words barely reaching our ears.

"Yes, yes you did win," Howard grinned, slapping her lightly on the back.

"We're going to get you to a room, and get you a shirt because the one you had would not fit you anymore." He laughed.

A wheelchair was brought out and she was set on it.

"I won." She breathed out eyes shut from all of the excitement.

Annie's P.O.V

My whole body felt sore, but with my growing a few inches, actually having some muscles and in a lot more shape than I was it made sense.

"Peggy, when can I move," I groaned.

"Whenever you feel that you can walk. But I wanted to let you know, that if this worked, and it did, that we would be heading out to my campsite in two days. No need for dresses, all black, brown, or green, and you get to yell at people." She chuckled.

"Okay," I shifted in the bed that they placed me in and sat up ignoring the pain in my chest and abdomen.

"Peggy..."

She looked over at me.

"Can I have a shirt?" I asked not used to being topless with another human.

She just nodded and left the room, soon coming back with a simple white t-shirt, that she probably got from the men's section of the outlet mall.

I slipped it over and looked in the mirror, for some reason my hair was shorter, probably shoulder length, and then I even looked taller just sitting down! I pushed the covers back and stood up, looking at myself in the full-length mirror.

I brushed my new short hair behind my mirror and admired what I looked like now. I used to be almost 5"3, and now I am a tall (for me) 5"10. My dark brown hair, somehow shone even brighter in the dim lights of the metal room. I looked down at my leg and saw that they took the cast-off, during some point that I'm not sure of. I walked around in my 'new body' and realized that I didn't feel weak, or felt like fainting ever time I ran up stairs, my knees didn't creak when I jumped around.

"How does it feel?" Peggy asked me with a big smile on her face.

"It feels amazing, I can't wait to go into training, then train people. God Peggy, this is just going to be amazing!" I yelled, spinning around the room.

"Do you want to start training now?" She asked, standing up.

"Do you even have to ask me that question?" I smirked.

Suddenly, she grabbed the knife that was nearby and threw it at me. My eyes widened and before I knew it my hands shot out in front of my and grabbed it just centimeters before the tip reached my head.

"What the hell Peggy?" I yelled out, throwing the knife to the ground.

"You don't need any training, you're already trained." She told me.

"And I assume you were lying about leaving tomorrow, we're leaving tonight?"

She nodded and left the room, assuming I was supposed to follow her I did. That is how we ended up at base camp with Steve Rogers and James Barnes.

/ Two Weeks Later /

"So he just takes the actual pole down, grabs the flag, hands it to the chief, and gets into the car?" I asked, milk starting to come out of my nose.

Peggy nodded her head, laughing hysterically.

"And this is Rogers correct?" I asked making a mental note to talk to him later.

Barely able to talk throughout the laughter, she nodded once more.

"I've got to go Peg, got to run a camp you know." I stood up and something hard hit me, almost making me fall down.

"Shit!" I heard a voice yell and strong hands grabbed onto mine to keep me from falling down.

The person helped me back up before my body hit the ground and kept apologizing. I opened my eyes, and I couldn't believe what I was seeing, this was one attractive man.

"Annie, are you alright?" Peggy asked me, getting up to see what happened.

"Yes, yes, I'm alright, just a bit winded I suppose. To the man who knocked me over, who are you?" I asked my back straight.

"Seargent James Buchanan Barnes ma'am." He saluted me and I just laughed not used to everyone doing that yet.

"It's nice to meet you, Barnes, I suppose you're friends with Rogers aren't you? I've seen you two around here together, not really leaving each other's side."

"Yes, ma'am." Not even daring to look directly at me.

"Take me to him if you don't mind, I'd like to have a word." I folded my hands behind my back as we swerved in and out of people looking for his friend.

"Steve!" James called out, raising his hand in the air.

The small man turned around and a smile grew on his face, as he saw his friend appear from the crowd of dirty and unwashed men.

"Hey man!" He laughed, pulling him in for a hug.

"Rogers, it's nice to know that someone in my quadrant has some humor." I pulled out a light smile and his smile went away.

"Thank you, ma'am. But can I ask, who are you?" He generally seemed confused and I don't blame him, I teach the recruits that have been here for weeks and he has been here for a few days before me.

"Colonel Machiavelli, I believe you know my friend Carter?"

His face turned red at the mention of her name, "Yes ma'am, I do, and it's nice to be in the acquaintance of you Colonel."

"Hold on, aren't you a bit tall for a girl?" James asked, um...what?

"Barnes has anyone taught you to hold your tongue before this day?" I took a step towards him.

He nodded, now seeming nervous. Good, he should be.

"And you also like using the showers and having 3 meals a day don't you?"

He nodded once more. I clenched my fist and swung hitting him dead in the jaw, knocking him over.

"Another remark like that and you won't have those convienences. You may go now." I said calmly.

He then took off without another word. I gave one last glance at Rogers who put his hands up in defense, and I marched back to my tent, laying down to take a nap.

I woke up with the sun shining in my face and alarm blaring at me to get to my 5 o'clock squad workout. I pushed the covers back, adjusted myself, and got rid of any nice look I had on my face. Here at this camp, you work quick. I hustled over to my squad car, I guess you can call it that, and drove over to the field where 15 men were waiting for me, not knowing that their Colonel was going to be a girl. Surprise, surprise.

I jumped out of the car and some man hopped right back in to take it back for me, obviously going to pick me up afterwards since this was a big campsite.

I stayed silent for a good five minutes before someone had the balls to speak up.

"Where's the Colonel," He stepped out of the line they were in and looked around, left, right, then left again, then right at me.

"Hey, lady, do you know where the colonel is?" He asked, a smirk so smirky that I wanted to smack him.

"That is the colonel dumb ass," Someone spoke up from the back.

I grinned at the man who spoke first my smiley demeanor changing as I yelled at him, shocking each and every man in that line, "One lap." With that, he was sprinting like I've never seen a man before, and in his place took James Barnes.

"Nice to see you again Seargent Barnes." Nodding in his direction.

"Ma'am," He nodded his head back at me, being polite, off course he is.

I walked around and looked at each and every one of them, looking at Barnes a little longer than I probably should have.

"You all have met the wonderful Peggy Carter?" My feet moving up and down the line, taking a good look at what I had to work with.

"Yes, ma'am!" They shouted.

"Well, I'm worse. I'm going to have you going until you bleed from your hair, until you cry from your ass, and until all of your fingers and toes fall off!" The men's eyes wide from hearing a woman swear, guess you hear something new every there, and there James was, smiling.

"Is anything funny to you Mr.Barnes?" I asked stopping in front of him, my eyes squinting as I was trying my hardest not to smile at his damn beautiful face.

He shook his head, smile going away, straightening his back and puffing up like some penguin trying to mate.

"See me after your death," I reminded him with a quick glance as the other guy's oohed at the thought of him getting in trouble by a girl. These men are idiots aren't they...

"You wanted to see me, Colonel," James said, hands behind his back, head up, like a real soldier.

"At ease Sargeant, I wanted to know why you were smiling during my speech," I ordered standing up, a few feet away from him with my arms crossed in front of my chest..

"It's really nothing ma'am, I just thought your speech was inspiring. But, I didn't know that you were British until just then when you're angry, it really comes through," Is he hitting on me? I mean...not that I mind. No Annie!

"You have ears, congratulations. Go and try not to smile anymore during someones speeches, it's rood," I tried to shoo him out.

"I... have a question if you don't mind?" Making his way back towards my desk,

"You may proceed," I sat back down on a nearby chair, one leg over another.

"Would you like to get dinner with me some time Colonel?" He asked, still straight-faced, head up high, hands behind his back. Very blunt, there was something that I liked about that, maybe the serum did change my personality, or sexual personality.

But I was shocked, to say the least, maybe I heard him wrong.

"Repeat yourself, soldier?" Sounding more like a question, than a comment.

"Would you like to get dinner before I leave in two days? Maybe pizza, or go to the cinema?" Finally looking at me, those piercing chestnut eyes holding me in their grasp.

"What made you come to the conclusion that you wanted to ask me out?" Obviously curious to hear what half-sacked excuse he would use to get me in bed.

"I thought you were beautiful from the moment I saw you about a day ago, and when I talked to you today, you made me smile, no woman has done that ma'am," He went back to his soldier way, his way of saying he was speaking the truth.

"I accept your offer, there's a good pizza place just a few miles from here. I will come to get you tonight when I am ready," I stood up and held my hand out, this was honestly the most touching I was comfortable with at the moment, with him.

He reached out to grab my hand and when he did, his big, strong hands grasped mine, gentle, yet the squeeze was just right. The perfect handshake. I honestly didn't know if we were allowed to leave the premises, but I'd be damned if I didn't have a man in my life right now. If Peggy can have hunky Steve then I can have his hunky best friend.

"I am looking forward to seeing you then Colonel," He nodded his head.

"Call me Annie, but only when it is the two of us do you understand?" My voice suddenly in a whisper.

"As you wish," He bowed out of the tent to leave me in a pool of my own shock and excitement.

Where the hell was Peggy when you needed her?

#bucky barnes #barnes #bucky #the winter soldier #winter soldier #captain america #steve rogers #steve #chris evans #sebastian stan #avengers #romance #fiction #Peggy carter

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linaofthemyscira · 6 years ago

Text

White House Down (Part 4)

Pairing: Secret Service!Jason x Fem!Secret Service!Reader

Words: 1778

Prompt: Duke Thomas, the President of the United States of America is a huge target for the world. However, Jason Todd, one of the best Secret Service agents in the White House, doesn’t let President Thomas out of his sight. Then you come along, and let’s just say you’re a bit of a distraction. While Jason wrestles with your presence, the White House is attacked which throws his whole world off. Now Jason must work with you to save one of the most important people in the world and the fate of the United States.

Warnings: foul language, mention of PTSD

A/N: Here is part 4! Sorry it took so long! PLEASE READ THE NOTE BELOW PEEPS!

(This is a polite reminder that if you are on one of my tag lists and you change your URL PLEASE let me know because ya girl doesn’t have the time or patience to track your new URL down so please TELL ME! Also, tags for this story are still open, SO SEND AN ASK IF YOU WANNA BE ON THIS STORY’S TAGLIST THANK YOU AND GOOD NIGHT!)

“Hey, [Y/N]....[Y/N]....hey wake up…” you heard a muffled voice. You blinked a few times, seeing blurred colors and figures, but soon your vision came back to normal and you exhaled.

“She’s okay,” the voice said. It was Dick.

“Dick?” you asked.

“Yeah, it’s me. Are you okay? After we hit the deck, you started shaking and curled into a fetal position while screaming. Jason carried you out and back here,” he asked. You sat up slowly, holding onto Dick’s shoulder to help you.

“Uh, I guess it was my PTSD,” you scratched your head.

“Damn...I should’ve known…” Dick looked at the ground.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Dick told you. You nodded and looked around. You weren’t in the oval office, you were in some windowless room with several other agents, including Roy and Tim. But you didn’t see Jason or the President, which set off alarms in your head.

“Dick….Dick where’s Jason and Mr. President?” you asked frantically.

“Uh….we lost them in the rush to get to the safe room. They’re out there somewhere,” Dick pointed to the door.

“What?!” you exclaimed. Dick brought a finger to his lips and shushed you.

“Dick….we need to fucking find them. The country is at stake,” you whispered furiously. “Are there any hostages? Tourists?”

“Yes…” Dick trailed off.

“Jesus, Dick. That’s it, I’m going out there and finding Jason to help him,” You started standing up.

“No, [Y/N]. You just went through a panic attack because of PTSD, you need to rest a little,” Dick stood up and grabbed your wrist, which you immediately yanked away from him.

“I know what I need, and that’s to help Jason and find the President,” you said lowly. Dick frowned, but you were determined and he knew if he didn’t get out of your way, you would move him.

You took off your jacket, knowing it would be too much of a distraction, and put your hair up and out of your face. You noticed you didn’t have a gun on you anymore and you turned to Dick.

“I need a gun. Fully loaded.” You held out your hand. Dick took two guns from two separate agents and handed them to you.

“Take two,” he said. You checked the guns’ ammo and then put them in your holsters.

“Okay. Keep me on channel 3, I’ll be back….soon hopefully,” you told Dick.

“Good luck,” he patted your shoulder. You nodded and headed for the door.

“[Y/N]....” Roy called out. You turned to Roy a bit with a raised eyebrow.

“If you see Jason out there, alive, tell him...he better save the cinnamon bagels from the break room because I paid for them,” Roy told you. You groaned and rolled your eyes.

“Roy, just...okay, whatever,” you scoffed and turned to the door. Some of the agents told you to be careful, and then you were gone.

“She’s gonna die,” Roy told Dick. Dick looked at Roy with a disappointed expression and shook his head.

“Come on, Roy,” he whispered as he walked away from him.

As soon as you had stepped foot into the open White House hall, you exhaled nervously. It was empty, but you were still anxious. You took out one of your guns and looked around to see where you would go. You carefully calculated your next moves and put them into action.

“There is no way that there was only ONE secret service agent and the president in this fucking pretentious White House. Find ALL of them, and leave no one alive,” a woman’s voice said. You quickly ducked into the ladies’ bathroom to avoid being seen. You put your ear to the tiny open crack to continue listening.

“Yes ma’am,” a group of men said.

“Check the bathrooms! Kill all agents on sight. No mercy,” the woman said. You quickly and silently shut the bathroom door and hid in a stall.

“She must be in charge...and she has henchmen...you know what? Kudos, even though she’s technically a terrorist,” you whispered to yourself. “But how am I going to get out of here alive?”

You looked around for a vent to crawl through, but the only vents in the restroom were the small rectangular ones.

“Fucking hell,” you muttered. You looked down at your garb and equipment, then thought of a brilliant idea.

After a few minutes, the henchmen entered the women’s bathroom quietly.

“Wow...why is the ladies’ room so much nicer than ours?” you heard one of the men say.

“Because….they’re ladies...they keep things classy and clean,” another guy said. You made a face and rolled your eyes.

“Shhh, there’s probably someone in here,” one more man said.

Suddenly, your stall door was kicked down and there was a gun pointed in your face. On instinct, you screamed in fear, but it was believable enough for the henchmen as they took a step back in surprise.

“Please don’t hurt me!” You whimpered and leaned back on the toilet seat you sat on.

“It’s a civilian,” one of the men remarked.

“No shit Sherlock,” another guy said. That sparked an argument between the group of men, which allowed you to reach behind you to the empty space where the toilet seat ended and grab one of the guns you hid back there.

“Shut up, ya morons! We have to take the civilian back to the hostage area.” The leader of the group announced. He moved his way to the entrance of the stall, but as he turned to you, he was met with the barrel of your handgun.

“Oh honey, I’m not just any civilian,” you smirked.

“Shit…”

“Well….that was….easy I guess,” you sighed and pushed loose strands of your hair out of your face. You stood in the middle of the group of men, who all now laid unconscious on the bathroom floor. You speedily unarmed the men, taking one of their assault rifles, reloading it, then taking the rest of the ammo, a walkie-talkie of theirs, and a few knives.

Once you were ready, you exited the bathroom as silently as possible. The hall was not empty anymore. Two henchmen stood guard at each end of the hallway and walked around in place.

“Dammit. That bitch took extra measures,” you said under your breath. You took a few minutes to see how you were going to get past the guards. Once you had your plan ready, you enacted it.

You silently skipped around the hallway, dodging the guards’ line of sight. Occasionally, one of them one would turn around, but you managed to get out of the way before they spotted you.

Finally, you approached the guard at the north end of the hall and, without trying to making a sound, you snapped the guard’s neck. You caught him before he hit the ground and dragged him out of the hall so the other guard wouldn’t see.

“Alright buddy, I’m sorry I had to do that--actually,” you silently chuckled, “I’m not, but I’m talking to a corpse so who cares? But I’m gonna have to take some of your things, you shitty motherfucker.”

You took the bulletproof vest off of him and slipped it over your torso, then tightened it so it fit. Then, you proceeded to hide the body and continue your search for Jason and Duke.

“I really hope you’re still alive, Todd…”

“Where are they?!”

The gloved hand flew across Jason’s face so quickly, he didn’t have time to register it. The noise of the smack echoed off the Oval Office’s walls, where Jason and Duke were being held, hostage.

He looked back up at the woman with a chuckle and his signature smirk.

“You’re gonna have to try a lot harder than that if you want information out of me, sweetheart,” he bit his lip, trying his seducing tactics on his opponent.

Much to his chagrin, they didn’t work and the woman pulled out a gun, aiming it at his forehead. Jason’s smirk faded as he kept a straight, emotionless expression on his face.

“That’s not exactly what I meant,” he remarked.

“I’m only asking once more: where are they?” she growled and pressed the barrel of the gun against his forehead.

“I’m not telling you. Go ahead. Shoot me. I don’t give a shit,” Jason hissed at her. The woman barked at one of her men in a foreign language and suddenly Duke was being dragged out before Jason’s eyes.

The woman pointed her gun at the president and glared at Jason, who now had a more concerned expression on his face.

“Now will you tell me where I will find your colleagues, Jason?” she asked.

“Jason, don’t do it. For fuck’s sake, do not tell her,” Duke groaned.

“Mr. President--” Jason started.

“I said no, and that’s an order!” Duke growled at Jason. Jason frowned and looked back up at the woman. Before he could say anything, a voice from behind him spoke.

“Talia! Aymil is not answering to his radio,” one of her men told her.

“And?”

“None of his squad is either. Neither is Issam, and some of the American guards you hired, and they were all in the same quadrant.” the man said. Jason raised an eyebrow in confusion, trying to find a logical explanation on how several men in the same area could suddenly stop responding to their radios.

Talia narrowed her eyes and walked over to her subordinate. “Find out why, Trevejo. I’m busy.”

Out of nowhere, gunshots sound off and everyone in the room looked around as if the source would magically appear in front of them.

“Out of my way!” Talia shoved some of her men out of her way as she exited the oval office to find out was going on. Several of her men followed her outside, leaving only a small number in the room.

Jason visibly relaxed, but when a body hit the floor, he knew something was up. He looked around at the remaining guards, who stared at each other in confusion and then Jason saw it.

One by one, bullets flew into the room, hitting each guard square in the forehead. In a matter of seconds, they were all dead on the floor of the oval office.

“What the fuck?” Duke whispered.

“I’m asking the same question, Mr. President,” Jason looked around.

Then, a figure dropped down from the ceiling, which greatly startled both Duke and Jason. The figure stood up, turned around and Jason’s eyes widened, not in fear, but in shock.

“Hello, boys,” you said with a cheeky grin.

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 6 years ago

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I don't have a name for this... so let's just call it bop for now

Fly Red they said. It'll be fine, they said. It's not like you're going to die... yeah right. Lance had shown them. He'd showed them real good... by dying... aaaaand coming back. So did it really count still? At least when Shiro died, he'd become one with Black, and he'd got a shiny new body. All Lance got was darkness and a while shit ton of awkwardness between him and Allura... no, scratch that. A whole lot of awkwardness between him and everyone... which might just be why he'd been marooned on the same quiznakking planet for the last phoeb, it felt like a phoeb... he didn't really know, it probably want, but he did know that he was stuck with no signs of rescue and no way off. Hot on the heels of Lotor's defeat, Sendak had reared his ugly head. Without the castle though, this whole defending the universe thing had become a whole heap more dangerous... and slower... way slower. The plan to return to Earth was now on hold... which he was bitter over. He felt shunned by the team, like a puzzle piece that had some how been shoved in the wrong box. Thanks to Sendak, they'd made Olkarion their temporary home. Earth still just as far away as it'd been since they first came out to space, and Lance hated it. He wanted to go home. He wanted to sunbake. He wanted to eat ice cream and go surfing. He wanted to see all his family. He wanted to hug his mum... instead, he was stuck with a busted arm, a badly healed leg, what felt like a chest full of broken ribs and a persistent cough that never really left... and then there was that whole other thing that happened. Forming Voltron, he'd had a bad feeling, an almost sick feeling. But he'd been getting that every time he was floating space lately. Sendak had sent a squad to attack Olkarion and to undermine the coalition. So they'd suited up, kicked some Galra arse and formed Voltron, only, something had happened. Red had panicked and a blast had blown them apart. Thrown into an uncontrollable spin, Red had bounced off Green, Pidge screaming at him over his incompetency... and right into a closing wormhole Lance honest had no idea how wormholes actually worked, but he found his comms cutting out as he was hurtled into some distant corner of the Galaxy. He hadn't been able to right Red in time. His lion had crashed, the ground around him an ashen mess when he'd come too. If that had been all he'd had to deal with, he would have found a way. Despite seeming mostly ok, after a very brief and painful check, Red was offline and his body... it wasn't great. He might have... kind of... maybe eaten some weird herb that had survived the fire. In his defence, he was starving,. The planet was like 90 percent gravelly sand, and rocks, with like a handful of weird purple trees. Other than that one herb, he hadn't found anything other than the trees... and eating their bark wasn't working out well... So, he'd eaten it. He didn't think things through, and now he was paying the price for the tiny one bite meal. It felt like his stomach was dissolving, a constant fever left him hallucinating... or he might have hit his head. He wasn't great at this whole trauma thing... Trust him to crash land on the part of the planet without edible vegetation. Now he stuck. Waiting for someone to come rescue him, which was no longer as easy as pulling up Red's signal on the castle's holoscreens, opening a wormhole and just hopping over. Nope. Due to distance, they might not even be able to find her signal. She'd crashed so hard she'd gone off line, there might not even be a signal to find... Yeah. He'd had more than enough time to over think absolutely every possible outcome, and even his stick drawing of Pidge agreed with him that he was completely screwed. Stick Hunk had been a little more encouraging, at least he hadn't mocked him for eating bark, not like Pidge had. Allura wasn't talking to him. Keith and Shiro were off training together. Romelle was making googlee eyes at Keith, so she was no go. Coran... stick Coran. His buddy. Coran was the only one he could talk to, pretty much because he hadn't figured out what Coran would be doing if he was stuck in this situation. He'd get sad, then determined, then angry, then sad, then run around trying to cheer everyone up... but with them all doing their own thing, it was hard for Coran to get through to them all... so Coran mostly just sat on the wall he was drawn on and watched Lance sleep. Being alone meant a looooot of sleeping, and a lot of sleeping in. It wasn't like he'd had a bed time on the castle, but he still liked to get enough sleep to keep away the bags under his eyes. Being stuck out here alone meant his usually beauty routine had hell. It took a lot of work to keep himself looking as good as he had, and now all the persistent blood and grime on his skin had ruined his hard work... it was enough to give him a headache... or it would have done if the pounding in his head would ease off for two damn ticks. When he got back to Olkarion, he was taking a varga long shower, followed by another varga soaking in the bath, and then he was sleeping for a whole movement. No matter what anyone said. * Keith was angry. He was angry with himself. He knew things were shaky with the team, and he could feel something was off when they'd formed Voltron, but he'd been too focused on everything else to realise their bond was too shaky to hold. All it'd taken was one blow to send them flying. One blow to send Lance flying from his sights. One blow for Pidge to crash back to Olkarion. He and Black were communicating on a much deeper level, and he'd completely forgotten the others weren't there. Pidge had landed bad, breaking her wrist on impact. If that had been him and Black, he was sure Black would have been able to right herself before she hit the planet's surface. Down two Paladin's, they hadn't been able to stop the battleship and go after Lance. The wormhole vanishing before he could make it there after they'd destroyed the ship, and now Lance was lost out there... wherever there was. The team was in a bad way, and as the leader it fell on his shoulders. He'd left them when they'd needed him. He'd been gone for two years and he hadn't even realised his brother had died. He'd fallen for all of Kuron's lies. He'd left his team with the clone and now the dynamic was completely wrong. He'd thought that on the return trip to Earth they'd have time to all sit down and talk, but the universe had kept them here, and that talk had never happened. After what happened with Shiro, he couldn't lose Lance too. They'd come too far... though Lance had barely spoken two words to him since he'd come back, and when he did, his smile never reached his eyes... not like it used to. Something was very much up with Lance, and he'd wanted to talk about it, because he felt it went further and deeper than just things with Allura not working out and the abuse he took from Shiro. Shiro had apologised to Lance, but being hit and constantly blamed by the man you'd idolised had to hurt. If this had happened before he'd left to find his mother, he'd never have been able to find the words to have the conversation that needed to be had, but being with her... being with her meant he'd been able to work through things he couldn't before. Shiro had been a substitute for his father. He'd loved him in away he hadn't understood. A frustrating kind of love that wasn't quite romantic, so he hadn't known what to call it. Now he understood. He was his dad in Shiro. He wanted Shiro to be his dad, because his dad had left him and Shiro had promised he never would... but Shiro wasn't his dad. They were completely different and relying on Shiro didn't mean loving his father any less. No. Shiro was his brother. Shiro had reached out his hand when he was lost and guided him. He was truly grateful to have him in his life, and now understood that the love he felt for him was that of a brother loving a brother. Staring down at the star chart spread across the length of the table, Keith was looking at the section circled in red. Pidge and Hunk had put their heads together, and after movements, this was the area they felt Lance would be in. The only problem was that even pushing Black, it would still take just over a movement to get out there. He'd have to stop regularly to let his lions core charge back up, and once he got there, there was no guarantee Lance would even be in the area. There was also the constant threat that Sendak would come back to finish the job. If he took Black by himself and left Hunk, Pidge and Allura to guard Olkarion, they could very well be hurt without him... but if they went with him, they couldn't form Voltron... looking up to him, Allura and Shiro both stood straighter, Shiro doing the talking for the pair "Keith, talk to me. What are you thinking?" "I was thinking we can't afford to split our forces, we can't leave the Coalition or the Olkari without protection, but we are not leaving Lance out there. Not when he could be hurt and he's been alone for so long" "No ones saying we leave Lance" "If I take Black, will the Rebel forces be able to help here?" "Pidge has already contacted Matt. He's aware of the situation" "Do they have anyone in the area? Anyone closer than we are?" "No. That section of space is abandoned. Zarkon drained the resources, he massacred the races there. Ryner and I were discussing it this morning" "So... we need to move" "Keith, we'll handle this. Black can move faster than any of the other lions right now. We've finally found where he is, so bring him home. Take an Olkari team with you. They can provide medical assistance" "No. If something goes wrong, you'll need their help. I'll take Yorak..." "Will that be enough?" "It's going to have to be" "Alright. We'll have everything prepared here for when you return. Bring him home" Pushing Black as hard as he dared, Keith reached the quadrant of space in just over 8 quintants. Despite the star map, it seemed even sparser out here than dots had indicated. Each planet a fair distance from the other, and all a cold dull grey... somewhere he'd never live to be stuck alone. He'd never had problem with being alone before Voltron, but now... now they were family in a messed up kind of a way, and Lance... for all his annoyingness, bad flirting and even worse joke, Lance was the one who kept everyone going. Always trying to help. Always wanting to help, and always encouraging in his own way. Opening his comms, Pidge appeared on the screen "Keith, how's it going?" "I just reached the quadrant. I think Black can already feel Red, but we're still learning about this. It might take some time" "Alright. He's probably kicking back and lazing off..." "Or he could be serious hurt" "Keith, this is Lance. I'll bet you GAC he's just lazing around" Why was it that Pidge irritated him so? He'd never had a problem before with her before, but now her sassy personality seemed much more immature, her banter almost malicious in some instances? And her constant dismissal of Lance was cruel, given the level of love Lance had for all of them "Just be waiting" "Yeah yeah, just be prepared to pay up that GAC" Keith cut the transmission, closing his eyes and focusing on seeing through Black's. He was never going to get used to this "Girl. Can we find them?" Black roared, her speed picking back up "That's my girl. Let's bring them home" Red seemed structurally alright as Keith landed Black beside her, a long scrape ran across her left side, which could have either been from the crash or from hitting Pidge. Hopefully from hitting Pidge, because the crash site looked bad enough "Lance?!" Well that was great "Red, is he in you?" Her mouth was firmly closed, her eyes dark. Great. So she was offline. That's why Lance hadn't been able to return, or contact them... if they couldn't get her online, he'd have to tow her back and that could movements... which neither of them had. Especially not if Lance was hurt "Laaaaance?! Can you hear me?!" Pidge better not be right. Lance better not have taken this as a holiday... not that he actually thought he was. No. Lance loved Red and even if he had no idea what was he doing, he would have at least tried to fix her "Lance! Can you hear me?!" There was a scuttling and a sliding of rocks from the caves dotted along the small ridge behind Red "Lance?! Yorak! Come!" Appearing by his side, Yorak yipped, headbutting up against his hand "Yorak, find Lance" Yorak yippee again, zigzagging as he teleported towards the caves. Running after him, Keith found them to be much more shallow than he'd expected, barely even caves at all. Starting to yip, almost in frantically, his paws digging and scratching at ground "Lance!" Laying on the ground, next to the remains of a small fire, Lance was wheezing for breath. His tanned skin a sickly yellow hue, while his left leg just...it looked wrong. Lance had been serious hurt in the crash, and left like this for nearly who phoeb... fuck. He'd fucked up. He hadn't reached him in time, and now Lance barely the Lance he remembered. Kneeling down beside the Paladin, Keith placed his hand on Lance's forehead, frowning at the lack of response, the burning fever and the strange smell coming from his friend "Lance? Lance, if you can hear me, I need you to open your eyes for me" Instead of opening his eyes, Lance let out a rattling wheeze "Yorak, find me a good path back to Black. He needs help and I can't do anything for him while he's here" Lifting Lance, Lance whimpered in his sleep, probably in an enormous amount of pain, which caused Keith to be struck with yet another stab of guilt. He should have been faster. He should have intercepted Red and Green when they'd collided. Not left Lance alone like this. Everyone knew Lance was a social person and tended to get depressed if left alone for too long, not that he ever let it show... he didn't need or deserve the feeling of abandonment on top of everything. Carrying Lance down to Black and into the cargo hold of his lion, Keith laid Lance out on the bed of blankets he'd been using during the few vargas he'd been forced to sleep while Black's core recharged. Cupping the right side of Lance's face, Keith nodded to himself. Painkillers. He needed painkiller and antibiotics... and IV drip. It was clear Lance had lost a lot of weight and on such a barren planet, Keith wasn't sure how his team mate had even found anything to eat "Yorak, stay. Keep him company while I get what I need" Dropping to his stomach, Yorak whined as he placed his head on Lance's shoulder, now taking over the role of Lance's temporary protecter while Keith gathered up his first aid kit. Once Lance was stabilised, he'd used Black to pull Red up, and set her on autopilot back to Olkarion. After that, he'd have to call the team and let them know Lance would need to go straight into the one healing pod they'd been able to salvage from the castle. With a lot of help from Ryner's scientists, they'd been able to rig a system to power it, but only for short bursts at a time. It'd been alright when it'd first been removed from the castle, but without the constant power supply, its internal battery had lost its ability to hold charge... or something. Honestly, he'd been too focused on the fact Shiro was back to fully focus on the conversation. Now he wished he had. Lance needed a fucking pod. With careful hands, Keith cut Lance's clothes off. Thankfully Lance had already removed his own jacket, and his pants were torn enough that there was no risk of him nicking him with his blade. With just his boxers on, Keith groaned at the state of him as he tried to ignore how much sweeter Lance smelt without his clothes on. It was ridiculous and he swore Lance had never smelt like that before he'd left. Shaking his head, he wiped at the crease of Lance's right arm, he'd always said chicks digged scars, and Lance certainly had a few new ones. From the top of his left hip down to Lance's inner thigh sported one such scar, as did his left arm, and across his painfully bruised chest. Seeing Lance look so fragile beneath him, Keith felt an unexpected surge of desire. The desire to protect his friend... to protect Lance from absolutely everything that would ever hurt him. It was a sensation he'd never experienced, and couldn't say why it'd even surfaced so abruptly. Setting up the IV line, Keith injected the line with two opaque solutions Ryner had gifted him. These were the antibiotics and painkillers, both of which would make Lance drowsy and save Keith from the awkward conversation he'd have to have with Lance once they reached Olkarion. Lance was going to need surgery, his breaks would have to be rebroken and set properly, otherwise the healing pod promote healing in the affected area, and make the damage worse. After that, it was possibly it would take phoebs to get Lance up and moving... delaying their return to Earth even longer. Lance wasn't going to be happy... but at least he wouldn't be going through it alone. Keith was going to be there for him, like Lance had been for him when Shiro had disappeared again.

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lifeinahole27 · 7 years ago

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CS ff: “Wait for the Moonrise” (7/10) (au)

Summary: Emma doesn’t remember who she was before she was found in the woods, but she knows that she has a few close friends, a good job, and a loyal cat that greets her every day when she gets home from work. What she doesn’t know, however, is that her past is about to catch up to her in the strangest of ways. She learns quickly that not everything is as it seems, not even her cat.

Rating: E

Content warnings: smutty smut, brief mentions of the loss of a hand

Chapter specific content warnings: Weird, curse-related bullshit...? I think that and some swearing?

A/N: This is two weeks of updates that have been done whilst sick as a dog, so humor me for going quick. Thanks to @captainswanbigbang for existing so I could get this done. Thanks to @phiralovesloki, @captainstudmuffin, @sambethe, @clockadile, and @pocket-anon for continued support and beta and prodding and help and I seriously don’t know where I would be without you all. And Especially thanks to @clockadile for the neverendingly beautiful artwork she contributes to this story week after week, on top of having a life and a job and such. She’s the true hero of my csbb, I think.

And one last special thank you to all who come by and message me, send asks, write comments, flail at me via various message platforms. After writing this without feedback other than from those listed above for so long, I am overwhelmed and ecstatic that you’re all enjoying reading this and so many of you have said such wonderful things about this story.

Without further ado, here’s some “weird, curse-related bullshit” according to my chapter warnings...

Catch it on Ao3 or FFN! And catch @clockadile‘s artwork HERE!

Emma’s all but bouncing in her seat waiting for Killian to change, waiting to see what will happen when she has a chance to talk to him again, but before the clock can even move an hour closer to his changeover, her phone rings. Graham talks quickly when she answers, his words sliding together in his rush to get them out, and Emma is already off her seat and heading to get ready before the call has ended.

Rushing from room to room, she gets dressed in her warmest clothes and slips on her thickest boots. She struggles into her coat as she heads for the kitchen, dumping a handful of food into the bowl even though it’ll be Killian sitting on the couch when she returns. In the meantime, that’s the best she can do.

“I’m sorry Killi – Cat – I have to go. There’s a woman lost in the woods and we only have so much daylight.” He gives her the best understanding look he can, but she can still see the disappointment in his eyes as she goes. She turns back, giving him an affectionate pat on the head and scratches his chin for good measure. When he looks up again, she smiles at him, and then turns to grab her gloves before she rushes out the door.

The drive to the woods is tense, especially with the headache that’s suddenly decided to bloom behind her eyes. As the stress mounts higher, Emma thinks about the man she will be returning home to, and how very much they have to talk about at this point, especially given the way their last time together ended.

She’d tried so hard to hold onto the anger that had been fueling her forward after his rejection. If she’d just taken a second to actually think about his reasons why, she would’ve calmed down sooner, but the outcome was rather fun. Not the stuff between, though. Not walking around angry, going to work when she didn’t really have to, or going to a bar with the purposes of finding someone to take her home.

The second a nameless man’s lips had touched hers, she’d sobered up, realizing that it didn’t feel right. It wasn’t Killian, and she only wanted to be kissing him again. There was something about the way he kissed her that made her feel like everything was just the way it should be, or that it would get to that point soon. Instead, she’d tried to find solace in the lips of another and begged off after he started getting handsy.

She’s never had the chance to tell him about her dream with him in the flower field. It’s the strangest thing, but she knows it’s memory, and not imagination. Thinking of that dream now, she can almost feel the sunshine, and the way her hair lifts around her shoulders in the gentle breeze.

The harsh weather outside her car reminds her that she's not in that dream, and that winter in Maine is nothing like the setting in her mind. With that thought repeating, she steps out of her car and pulls her hat a little lower, making sure her gloves are covering her wrists, as well.

The meeting point outside the woods is crawling with officers and volunteers, all with flashlights and orange vests. Ruby stands off the side of Mulan’s squad car, handing over a thermos and giving the other woman a quick kiss on the cheek. They both glance around, making sure no one is looking their way, and the moment Ruby’s eyes find Emma, she blushes almost as red as the dye in the tips of her hair.

Good naturedly, Emma waves and tries to give an inconspicuous wink and thumbs up, before she heads directly to where Graham is meeting with volunteers. As she approaches him, she has to squint against the pain that throbs incessantly behind her eyes, trying to force a neutral expression as she accepts her quadrant to search.

“Dorothy and Merida just left a minute ago. It shouldn’t take you long to catch up to them. I’ll radio ahead and let them know you’re on your way. Belle’s only been out there for a bit so we have a good chance of catching up to her.” Even hearing the name does something funny to her head. Belle? Where does she know her from? She’s… the librarian, right? She can’t think of how many times she’s ever interacted with the woman in question, or if she’s ever been to the library. Left to deal with the needles of pain by her temples, she nods and gives Graham a thumbs up before heading for the woods.

Swiftly but carefully, Emma picks her way through the underbrush where the path falls away. This all feels familiar, but this is the first search party that they’ve ever had to throw together in her time on the force. That she remembers. Right? Has she been here before? With each step, a pit opens in her stomach, growing wider and wider.

Flashes of the time she got lost start coming to her. Something that’s always remained so hazy in the back of her mind is getting clearer the closer she gets to whatever she’s heading towards.

The pain behind her eyes gets so strong that she has to stop, leaning against a tree and pressing her fingers to her temples in an attempt to stem the sensation that her head will throb apart into chunks. Emma realizes that if she doesn’t keep moving, they’ll be sending out a search party for her, too.

Haltingly, she keeps going, experiencing the phantom sensations of bare feet in the cold soil. She remembers her fingers shaking, dirty, muddy, her ring smudged from where her hands had sunk into the ground. Beneath her gloves, her ring feels warmer than ever before. She shakes her head, trying to forget the pain in her knees, the cold material of a nightgown. Does she even own a nightgown? Why would she be in a nightgown?

With three more steps, she breaks into a clearing – one that doesn’t have any specific markings to remind her that it’s where she was found, but she just knows. In the middle of that clearing, there’s a woman. She’s sitting, her knees drawn up to her chest, her face buried from the chill against her knees. She’s less battered than she figured someone lost in the woods would be.

“Belle?” She calls out to the woman softly, so as not to startle her too much. This is already a scary experience; there’s no need to make it worse. Right after the name leaves her mouth, her head blares with pain. She clutches at it, and it feels like something wedges into her brain.

“What the fuck is going on?” It sounds like she’s screeching as it bounces around her skull, but the words barely come out as a whisper.

“Emma? What’s wrong?” It’s Dorothy, to her left, but she can’t turn to look at her. Can’t even move her neck for the moment, and she waves the other woman off.

“Check on Belle. I’m fine,” she wheezes.

Merida is already moving to help Belle to her feet, followed soon by Dorothy. Emma braces her hands on her knees for a moment, willing the discomfort to lessen its hold on her. It ebbs away as Merida questions after Belle’s well-being, and Emma is finally able to stand up straight.

The fresh look at Belle, however, is nothing short of weird. It’s definitely not Halloween, so why is the woman wearing a dress that looks straight out of some fairy tale book? She’s never seen anything like it in the shops around town, but the way Belle wears it makes it seem like it’s something she’d wear any day of the week.

Finally catching her wits, Emma signals on the radio that they’ve found Belle. The four women trek through the woods together, and Emma marvels at how far in they’d gotten. Just as they break through the last line of trees, Belle passes out. There’s a flurry of activity after that, getting her into the ambulance. Somehow, Emma’s the one that ends up in the back of the van with her. It works out well, as someone who’s been lost in the woods can be the one to see if Belle has any memory of how she ended up as far out as she did.

She doesn’t get the chance, though. Belle is whisked behind doors and sent for tests and Emma is told that they’ll allow her to question Belle in the morning, if she’d like to return.

With all the chaos, it still takes her way longer to get home than she wanted to be. The bright side of that is Killian in the kitchen, putting what looks to be the finishing touches on another elaborate dinner. His hair still looks damp, and he’s wearing the sweatpants she first gave to him, topped with a black t-shirt that may or may not be her own.

Emma is surprised to see the way he’s lashed the spatula to his left arm, leaving his right hand free to handle the pan and season as necessary.

“Welcome home, Swan. I’m just nearly finished here if you’d – Emma?” He finally looks up to see her, and it must be the mud caked on her jeans, or the look on her face that makes him stop. He quickly flicks off the burner and moves the pan over so the food won’t get burned, slipping the spatula off before he heads for her. “Is everything all right? Did you find the missing girl?”

“Uh, yeah, she’s at the hospital now.”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” Her heart lights up with the contact of his hand drawing down her arm from elbow to fingers, where he squeezes them gently. “In fact, why don’t you go take a hot shower, change into those fleece pajamas you’re so fond of, and I’ll keep this warm for you. We can eat when you’re ready.”

It sounds perfect. It sounds like exactly what she needs, and she can’t verbalize how much it means that he’s trying to take care of her without explicitly taking care of her. She thanks him in a way that feels so natural that she leans forward and kisses him without realizing that it might be weird. But it’s anything but weird.

He hums into the kiss, shifting forward as their lips brush against each other. He must’ve been tasting the sauce as he went because she gets hints of cumin and cinnamon. His hand, which had been innocently resting on her hip, glides slowly up her waist to rest just beneath her ribs. She wants it higher. But instead of winding her arms around his neck and saying to hell with the food, she manages to stop herself and pull back.

He gives her another slow smile, his eyes lidded and looking just a tiny bit stuck in the moment. Still, he ushers her off towards the other side of the apartment to shower and change.

It’s only once she’s in the shower that she remembers the headaches while they were out searching, and she wonders how much of anything about this night she should tell Killian. While the hot water hits the top of her head and drips down over her shoulders, Emma examines the way the pain got worse the closer she got to the clearing where she was found. Where Belle was found, where she herself was found… The coincidence is a lot to handle.

Thinking back to her talks with Killian last month, Emma ponders over his original question of what she did after she got here. What does she remember of her twenty-fifth birthday? She concentrates on the stories Graham and Regina have told her about that night, but there’s not even a flash of recognition. Wouldn’t she remember something by now? They warned her the amnesia might be permanent, but she remembers so much of her life from before that day, why can’t she remember the actual day?

By the time she steps out, the water is beginning to cool and she’s anxious to bundle up in her coziest pjs like Killian suggested, eager to see where things will go with him tonight. There’s a buzz of anticipation under her skin, only partly due to the idea of finding out more from him, and from the afternoon she’s had, but also because of the way he kissed her back before she showered.

The shot of warmth blooms in her stomach, shooting through her body as she ties her hair back and checks her appearance one last time. It’s not the sexy outfit she had on last month when he changed, but it’ll do.

“There you are,” he says affectionately when she makes it to the kitchen table. He removes the lid from the pan where it’s been keeping warm on the stove, bringing it over to the table before offering her the serving utensils. “Feel better?”

“Yeah. Much, actually. I’m glad we were able to find her so quick. Too long in that weather and we all would’ve been in danger. I’ll go to the hospital tomorrow to check on the librarian.” A sharp burst of pain springs up behind her eyes, but it’s gone in an instant.

“Emma?”

“I’m fine, really. I think it’s just exhaustion. Do you mind saving the conversation for tomorrow? I just kinda want to stretch out on the couch after this and watch movies or something.”

“Of course, love. It’s been a trying day. Why don’t we eat, and then I’ll fix you a cup of that hot chocolate you taught me about last month, and we can do whatever you’d like for the remainder of the evening.”

“Thanks, Killian. I know we don’t have a lot of time with these shifts…”

He waves her off before she can finish the statement. “Nonsense. Your well-being comes before anything else.”

His smile is bordering on sad after he says it, and she wonders something. If what he’s saying is really true, then how long did he go worried that she might be dead? Three years is a long time to hope for someone to be alive and well. She swallows the lump that forms, pushing all those thoughts away while they eat.

They spend the rest of the night exactly as she requested, but with a twist from the normal. Instead of tucking into opposite ends of the couch, she takes a deep breath before pressing close to him. By the middle of the movie she’s put on, they’ve maneuvered so his arm is around her shoulders. When she starts a second one, they shift so they’re both lounging instead of sitting up. And before the first turning point in the plot, Emma is asleep on his chest, the solid feel of his body beneath hers the last comfort she needed to finally let go.

Killian must somehow carry her to bed, although she would’ve loved to have seen this happen, because she wakes up with the sun already risen, her hand clutching Killian’s between their pillows, and not much space between them. She only gives herself a minute to admire the peacefulness on his face before she drags his hand close to kiss it gently.

“I have to get up and go check on that woman. Sleep as long as you want, okay?”

His response is mumbled, but he untangles his hand and opens one eye long enough to stroke his thumb along her cheek with a soft smile. Then his hand drops back down, his eye closes once more, and he’s asleep again. With a sigh that is much more content than she thought it would be, or maybe even should be, Emma leaves the comfort and warmth of her bed in hopes of finding out how a missing person became missing in the first place.

When she shows up at the hospital, however, Belle is sitting up in bed and smiling. She’s alert, no signs of a concussion, and much less disoriented than she was when Emma found her.

“Good morning, Belle. How are you feeling?”

“Fine, Emma. Thank you for finding me yesterday,” comes the cheery greeting.

Emma’s own time at the hospital is still disjointed; she doesn’t remember much because she was sedated, but Belle looks like she could walk out of here without assistance if she wanted.

“You’re looking great,” Emma comments as she settles into the chair by the bed. “Much better than I expected. You mind if I ask a couple questions?”

“Sure thing!”

Still thrown by the cheery demeanor, Emma pulls out her notepad and pen. “Okay, do you have any recollection of how you got in the woods?”

“No, I’m afraid not. I can barely even remember getting out of there yesterday. I only know how quickly you got me out of there because the nurse told me so. My father said it’s all part of my sleep-walking. Apparently, he left the door unlocked yesterday and I got too far before he realized it so he had to call.”

“Of course, of course. Well, it’s lucky that we found you when we did.” She pauses, absorbing what Belle has said. “You said ‘apparently’ you have sleep issues. Do you not remember?”

“The doctor says I have a mild case of amnesia, but that my memories should return soon. I didn’t hurt myself at all, but he said something about it being brought on by the stress or trauma, something like that. What do you know about me, Emma?”

“I don’t, really. I know that you’re the librarian. I guess we’ve never had the chance to talk before. We can correct that now, if you’d like me to stay a while?”

“I’d like that. They turned that thing on for me, but I don’t understand anything they’re talking about,” Belle says, indicating the television.

“I have a friend who could relate,” she responds, thinking of the evolution of Killian’s interaction with the TV. Emma stays for a little longer, but the whole time she’s there, she can’t help but feel like something is off. There’s every chance that it’s a perfectly plausible story, but her lie detector is going off. The thing is, Belle doesn’t even act like she’s lying. It doesn’t look like she’s trying to cover anything up.

But, if she was sleepwalking like her father claims, why was she dressed like she stepped out of a storybook?

-x-

Killian reaches for Emma, even knowing that she’s not in the bed any longer. She left at least a half hour before, but he couldn’t find the energy to rouse himself from bed sooner. With no clue when she’ll return, he decides to dedicate himself to short tasks. Much like he used to do with his own quarters, despite the fact that he had maids that came and cleaned for him, he prides himself on the tidy environment around him.

Besides, Emma was not wrong all those years ago about him practicing kissing with the maids. If the work was done before they got there, that was more time he could spend with his lips against fair skin, while also querying them for information about the princess. When they would direct his lips to the spot behind their ears, or to the spot between clavicle and shoulder, he thought they were just tired of him talking, not directing him to the princess’s favored spots.

Rather than force on a pair of the ill-fitting bottoms she’s been collecting for him, he slips on a fresh pair of boxers and a t-shirt. It’s the combination that Emma assures him looks like Christmas threw up on him, and while he has no idea what that means, he still smiles as he rakes his fingers through his hair to tame it before he heads to the kitchen to make himself breakfast.

She’s taught him about all the cleaning products, so he helps himself to the wood polish and the floor cleaner, flipping the television on as background noise while he works.

It’s in the middle of some pirate movie that the unthinkable happens. One moment, he’s using the duster to attack his imaginary foe, reliving the glory days of his ship-looting experiences. The next, Regina has burst through the door, her key still in hand, holding a small club aloft as if preparing to swing on him. He’s brandishing the duster in defense until he sees who’s standing in the entryway.

They both stop, wide-eyed and unsure what to do next, until Killian drops the duster and lunges for the remote to pause the movie.

“Where’s Emma?” she asks, tilting her head and looking around, checking the floor of all places to see if her friend is hiding, or whatever she presumes has happened. He stoops to pick up the duster, as if proving that Emma’s not hiding beneath it.

“She’s out.”

“And you are?”

“An old friend, staying for a couple days.”

“Your name?”

“Does it matter?”

“Huh,” she intones, looking at him head to foot and back again. “You’re certainly not the worst she’s ever brought home. Much better than the guy she was trying to canoodle last time we went out. But the first one she’s ever let stay past breakfast. Kudos to you, Mister Clean plus hair. Tell Emma to call me when she gets home. We’re due for a girls’ night out.”

With that, Regina – skeptical look and all – backs out of the apartment and shuts the door on her way. Knowing it won’t stop anything, Killian still walks over and latches the door, heaving a sigh of relief that he made it through the encounter with minimal problems.

Emma returns just around lunch time, which she insists on making when she sees how much he cleaned while she was gone.

“You know, I didn’t realize I would get a house pet and a maid service all in one,” she says as she flips the sandwiches in the pan.

“May I remind you that you’re forced to scoop litter? I assure you, this is the least I can do to make up for it.”

She scoffs, laughing as she slips two perfectly crisp grilled cheese sandwiches onto plates for them. “Anyway, anything good on TV while I was gone?”

“An extraordinary but inaccurate movie about pirates. Speaking of which, Regina sort of broke in when she thought I was attacking you.”

“Sort of? Attacking me?”

“I was, um, playing along with the movie. And she used her key, but still barged in. Told me to have you call her because you’re due for one of your girly nights.”

“Well, I’ll save that for after you change back. I’ve already had to split my time between you and the work insanity.”

“Enjoying the company of a pirate then, love?” He can’t help the grin that spreads over his face, and he tilts his head down and bats his eyelashes at her.

She’s just setting the plates, also with a serving of vegetables for him and onion rings for her, down on the coffee table as she looks at him, and she gives him another soft laugh. With the plates out of her hands, she leans over him on the couch and gives him a short, sweet kiss.

“Yeah, I think I am,” comes her quiet response.

It’s still a surprise, to feel something so bordering on loving come from her, when she still doesn’t remember him. Although they were much more intimate a month ago, silly things like this kind of kiss shouldn’t fluster him, but still he feels the tips of his ears warm, and a soft smile on his face as he looks away.

They don’t go much further than that, though. Instead, after lunch, Emma leans against him and falls asleep in the middle of a program, and Killian turns off the TV in order for them to both nap. Other than the night he spent in her room on her birthday, they didn’t have opportunities to rest like this. It was frowned upon for him and Emma to fall asleep in the same room after a certain point in their childhood. No longer was there a designated naptime for the princess, where he was allowed to also rest since she was loathe to let him get too far between lessons.

It's for this reason that Killian sinks into the sensation in bliss, both falling asleep and waking up with Emma in his arms making him almost entirely at peace.

To his surprise and delight, Emma has more questions for him. They've settled down to a game of cards, one she calls Rummy and which he is horrible at playing. But he does get to see her eyes light up as he shuffles the deck with one hand, which makes up for the fact that she’s beaten him twice already and is about to do it again. She inquires about what he knows about Storybrooke as a fake town in an unfamiliar world.

“Sadly, Swan, my knowledge is quite limited to what I was able to get from the sources I had. But I did glean that the people who come here are from all different periods of time. If that’s correct, then Regina really might be the missing royal that I think she is. But Emma, and I mean this with absolutely no offense, you don’t look the same as the day I last saw you. You look like you’ve aged, just as I have. But Regina was a young woman when she went missing, and she doesn’t look like she’s older than the portrait hanging in the main hall.”

“That’s strange,” she responds, her brows furrowing down. And it’s true. There are subtle differences to her appearance besides the physical side of things. He knows she’s much less dainty, if that’s a word he ever could have used to describe her in the first place. She’s stronger, and leaner, and her face no longer has the last rounded edges of childhood. So how could time stand still and Emma have aged? “You know, Regina said something to me about the clock above the library working when we went to lunch after I got out of the hospital.”

“Maybe your arrival in town had something to do with that. Why do you ask?”

“Well, you claim I came here through a… portal, right?”

“Aye, that’s what I was told.”

“And you didn’t come through one?”

“No, I was brought here via waterway. Through the oceans of our realms.”

The look she gives him, one of confusion, is completely warranted as far as he’s concerned. “Well, okay. But I don’t remember my life. And you do. Does that have something to do with the way we traveled here? Regina claimed I’d been living next to her for years.” She stops for a minute, her face scrunching up as she tries to work something out in her mind. “So, if people are transported here over time, what do you think happens to the people who were already here?”

“I don’t know. Regina seems like she knew exactly who you were, like there was an established relationship.” Like one of those magnificent light bulbs lighting up over his head, Killian turns to study her face. “Emma, who was the lost girl in the woods?”

“Just the librarian. She wasn’t injured or anything.” Her eyes shut in pain for a moment.

“You all right, love?”

“Yeah, just a headache I’ve been fighting the last couple days. Can we talk about this more in the morning?”

“I like that plan. Off to bed with you, Swan.”

She hesitates, collecting all the cards and sliding them back into the box. “You coming with me?”

“Lead the way,” he tells her, pulling himself up from his chair at the same time she does.

They ready themselves for bed at the same time, both of them crammed into the bathroom while they brush their teeth and wash their faces. Several times, their eyes meet in the mirror and he notices she’s looking at him just as often as he’s looking at her. This Emma, this version of her, is so like the one he grew up with, but without the prim and proper edges still in place.

She’s relaxed and happy and carefree when she’s not working. And she fits right in this land, false memories or no.

More than just settling onto opposite sides of the bed this time, Emma smiles almost coyly over her shoulder as she burrows back into his embrace. He pushes the time limit out of his mind once again as he falls asleep to her gentle breathing. The answer to their questions has to be out there, somewhere.

-x-

Emma wakes after Killian is already out of bed, and she can hear the sounds of him puttering around in the kitchen. She has to get up and go back to the hospital to see if Belle remembers anything new. The entire incident is weird, but Belle doesn’t even seem disturbed by the fact that she wandered into the woods in the dead of winter in nothing more than a weird dress. The entire thing is still giving her an unsettled feeling, and she figures if she keeps prodding and asking the right questions, she might just figure out why.

Sure enough, when she finally rolls out of bed and wanders to the kitchen, Killian has breakfast waiting for her, along with a travel mug full of coffee.

“I figured you’d want to get to the hospital as soon as possible this morning,” he says as he turns and sees her standing there.

“I do. Killian, this is… I don’t wanna say too much because you’re right, I clean the litter box every couple days and I might as well have a stock in tuna, but this is all so great. Thank you.”

If she wasn’t looking so closely at his face, she may have missed the quick expression that crosses it, leading her to believe there’s still more he’s keeping from her. This habit of doing the chores and making her food is all repayment or making up for something, but she can’t figure out what. That’s something she can ask him later, though, so instead of prodding, she settles in her spot at the table and waits until he’s seated before she starts eating.

After breakfast, she goes off to change, and makes sure to give Killian a kiss before she goes. He’s in clothes that almost match today, the black jeans she found in the consignment shop are just a little too big, but the v-neck sweater fits perfectly. Unfortunately, he’s wearing socks with little owls on them, the purple background a stark difference from the muted tones from the rest of his clothing. With a mental sigh that she’s yet to buy him any normal socks, she leaves for the hospital.

Belle, it turns out, is getting discharged. In fact, she’s just waiting on her father to get back with her clothes and to sign the discharge papers. She’s sitting up in bed, flipping channels with a serene smile when Emma walks in.

“Good morning again, Emma.”

“Getting out today, huh?”

“Yes, thankfully! I’m ready for my own shower and bed.”

“Anything new come up with your memories? Do you remember how you got in the woods?”

“Not how I got there, but it seems like everything else is back. I think I just needed a good night’s rest in order to get better.”

Emma drops into the visitor’s chair beside the bed, telling Belle that she’ll stick around until her father gets back.

It’s while they’re discussing the latest books they’ve read that a familiar nurse walks in, greeting Emma warmly despite the fact that it’s been more than three years since she’s been here, before turning her attention to Belle.

“Your father just called. He’ll be back in about fifteen minutes. Meanwhile, here’s the personal belongings you had when you were admitted. The dress is a little dirty, but it looks like you managed to stay out of the mud while you were lost. Hopefully we won’t have you in again before the month is up!”

Emma stays quiet, but all her alarm bells start ringing in her head. Like last time? When is the last time they had to get called for a missing person in the woods? In the three years since her own incident in the woods, she can’t remember a single call where they had to find Belle. Speaking of which, how long has she known about Belle?

When the nurse leaves the room again, Emma turns to the woman in the hospital bed. “Hey, Belle? How long have you worked at the library?”

“Emma, that’s a silly question. I’ve been…” Belle trails off, her eyebrows furrowing and her lips turning down as she tries to think of the number. “Well, I’ve worked there for as long as I can remember.”

“When was the last time you got lost in the woods?”

“Just two months ago. I think you’d remember that since you found me last time, too.”

Which is exactly the problem. There’s something going on here, and she needs to get home to Killian and talk to him, and the sooner she does, the better. Catching sight of the dress folded and shoved in a familiar plastic bag, Emma has an idea.

“You’re right,” she covers, shaking her head as if at herself for forgetting. “You’re right, I just forgot. It’s been a crazy couple of months. Hey, do you mind if I take the dress in for uh, evidence? It might be a clue for how you got so far out, and I want to make sure that you weren’t disturbed while you were sleepwalking. Just want to make sure there’s no foul play at work.”

Belle shrugs, a smile lighting up her face again. “That sounds fine to me. Not sure why I was wearing that old, silly costume anyway. Thanks for being so dedicated, Emma.”

“Of course,” Emma says, smiling brightly back to her. They watch TV for the rest of the time Emma stays with her, and she bids both Belle and her father farewell when he shows up.

Maurice thanks her again for finding his daughter, “And for the second time in a row! You’ve got a knack for finding people, Deputy Swan.”

“Just part of my job!” Emma assures him, making sure to tuck the bag with Belle’s dress under her arm on her way out.

Instead of heading to the station, however, Emma heads straight for her apartment.

“Killian?”

“In the bedroom,” he calls back, and she finds him just straightening the comforter on the bed. “Have a nice visit with the woodsy woman?”

“Belle. Her name is Belle.” Killian freezes in place, his hand leaving a fresh dent on the bedspread where he was just smoothing out wrinkles. “So, you know the name?”

“Brown hair, funnier accent than mine, eyes bigger than should be realistic?”

“I’m pretty sure you just described her perfectly.”

“Aye, and I’m afraid she’s the reason I’m here. Not sure why he waited so bloody long to send her. Oh Emma, I wish you’d told me sooner, if only because my time is up this cycle. It was Belle’s information that led me to finding you. She was the first break I found after entirely too long of searching. What that poor woman has probably been through…” He trails off, hanging his head in sorrow for a minute. “If we had more time, I’d ask you to invite her here, see if she knows anything we might be able to use to get your memories back.”

“I didn’t have reason to think she would be worth anything until our talk today. She said she’s been working at the library for as long as she can remember, and I don’t remember her. She also claims that the last time she got lost from sleep walking that I was the one to find her, and I can’t remember a time we had another missing person’s call. And she claimed the last one was two months ago.”

“Which I definitely would’ve remembered.” He stops and thinks for a moment before looking questioningly at her. “Love, you said you had a headache last night. When did that start? In all my time here, you’ve had hangovers, but not headaches that incapacitate you.”

“Oh, it started…” Emma pauses, really thinking about if it happened any time sooner, “right after I got the phone call from Graham that we had to get to the woods. I was fine when I left, but then as soon as I started driving over to the meeting spot, a shooting pain started right behind my eyes. Why?”

“I think it’s connected. How long did they last?”

“It’s the strangest thing,” she tells him, realizing he’s absolutely right, “it got worse the moment I ended up in the clearing where Belle was, and it was the same clearing where I was found. Then, when I got to the hospital yesterday to question her, it kept coming and going as we talked. But today, I just knew her answers were lies.”

“What’ve you got in that bag?” he asks her, and she finally remembers why she brought it.

“Oh! It’s her dress. I wanted to ask if you recognized it.”

Careful not to mess up the bed, Emma extracts the dress from the bag and holds it up, admiring the detail while Killian explains that it’s almost identical to the one she was wearing when he met her. “The woman definitely likes blue,” he comments as he looks at the pale blue with brown edging. “She was definitely wearing just a shade or two darker when I met her, and the piping detail was gold.”

What he just said obviously sparks a thought, and he moves toward her and reaches for the dress. He shifts it this way and that, and when the sun hits the stitching on the bodice, it shines like gold. She swallows, realizing that that’s exactly what it is. Killian mutters something rather colorful about using gold for everything, but Emma doesn’t catch the full thing. Instead, she’s momentarily distracted by the fact that Killian is standing really close.

“I’ll need you to find out if she remembers anything about The End of the World while I’m Cat,” he says absently, his eyes flickering up to meet hers when he’s finished speaking, and he catches her staring at him like a schoolgirl checking out her crush. “What?” he asks, his voice quiet and a smile peeking out of his previously somber expression.

“Nothing,” Emma says, unconvincingly, especially when her hands let go of the dress and she reaches up to touch his jaw again.

The first memories of doing this are hazy from the over consumption of wine, but it’s still just as she remembered. Scratchy, yet soft, and he doesn’t resist when she tugs him down for a kiss. The dress falls to their feet as he, too, lets it go, choosing instead to shuffle forward the last couple inches to fully engulf her in his embrace. So much for the preservation of evidence.

His left arm stays wrapped around her waist, but his right hand can’t seem to settle between resting on her jaw and sliding into her hair.

It’s somewhere in the middle of getting lost in his arms that she realizes they need to stop, that they need to make plans for what Emma will have to do while she doesn’t have him to consult. But there’s more to this kiss than the ones they’ve shared before, and all she wants to do is keep going. He must recognize that they’re running out of time, though, because he pulls back after another good, deep kiss, instead pressing his forehead against hers while they regain their equilibrium.

“We have to um…”

“Make some plans?”

“Yeah, that,” she replies. But it still comes out dreamy and unconvincing.

It’s not until they both pull back and open their eyes that she feels like she can think a little clearer. Only then do they set about making a list of what Emma might be able to do to bring back Belle’s memories. Emma tells him everything she and Belle discussed on her previous two visits, and Killian thinks that there might still be time to pull her back before the fake memories fully take hold in her mind.

“You don’t have much time, so see if you can talk to her as soon as possible.”

She nods, making note of when the easiest time to contact Belle might be. “I want to talk to Regina, too. See if there are any holes in her memories, and see what she has to say about Belle. Maybe if I can get someone else to remember their past, we can figure out how to get my memories back.”

“Excellent idea,” he tells her, his smile wide and excited.

They plan for every eventuality, only going to bed when they’ve exhausted their brains of everything Emma might be able to do on her own for the next month. It’s with a heavy heart that she snuggles back against him, almost dreading the moment in the morning when he’ll change back to Cat. Since he first started changing from Cat to human, this was the first genuinely good cycle with him. The first time was too jarring, the second too unsure, the third spent too angry, but this time around…

She realizes as he drifts to sleep behind her, his arm tightening in his sleep as his face burrows into her hair, that she is going to miss him. She’ll have to wait a full month before she can kiss him again, and she’s not sure that she’s ever been this patient before. She would last a week, tops, between sexual partners before Killian came along.

Her gut dips at that thought. He told her they had been in love. And she’s been with so many people in the last three years. She opens her mouth to ask if he was her first before remembering that he’s already asleep, that he always gets really tired right before it’s time to change back and he likely wouldn’t wake up anyways.

Shifting carefully, Emma turns to look at him and picks out the details of his face that she can make out in the dark. The fading moonlight casts a glow through the curtains, giving her just enough to admire the way he looks so serene. Knowing she can’t help herself, that she’ll have to wait a whole month to be able to do it again, she gives in to the urge to kiss him one more time, sighing as he stirs just enough to hum into the kiss and mumble a sleepy protest when she stops.

“It’s okay,” she tells him. “Next month.”

He nods, his eyes still closed as they’ve been during the whole interaction, and he smiles once before he’s asleep again. It takes a while, but she’s at least happy that she falls asleep in his arms, because Cat wakes her up bright and early with a headbutt to the chin to demand breakfast.

Almost immediately, Emma sets up a lunch date with Regina. She knows she still has to answer for Killian being in her apartment, and her friend has been surprisingly quiet on the whole incident.

“A friend, huh?” They’re barely in the elevator on their way to Granny’s when Regina begins her line of questions.

“Yep, just a good friend that stayed for a couple days. Left early yesterday morning, actually.”

The look that Regina gives her speaks volumes of how much she actually believes Emma’s story. “And why haven’t I heard about this friend before? Why didn’t you tell me you’d have someone staying with you?”

“It was a surprise visit?” Oh god that came out like a question. Regina is going to believe her less if she can’t get her shit together. “He’s uh, he was in one of the same group homes as I was,” she supplies, only minor fumbling as she speaks the lie.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, and – you know – I don’t talk about all that too much, but yeah. He was one of the only people I kind of kept in touch with. I know it’s strange to see someone from out of town, right?”

“It is,” Regina remarks, as if realizing that there are no strangers in Storybrooke.

Just as she and Killian discussed, she has to tread carefully from this point on. “So, when was the last time we had someone from out of town stop in? It feels like it’s been forever.”

“No one wants to come to our sleepy little corner of the world,” Regina says flatly. “It’s been ages.” She waves her hand to dismiss the idea and Emma drops the subject. Remembering what little Killian said about this Dark One, he could have spies everywhere. They make it into the warmth of the diner, sitting down in their usual booth.

She decides to wait, not asking more questions until they’ve already been served and Regina is obsessing over the perfect ratio of dressing to salad. “What was it like when you moved here? Hey, when was that, again?” Carefully, like a bull in a china shop. Emma tries not to actually slap her hand to her forehead with how bad she is at being smooth.

“I think I moved here in…” But Regina can’t seem to answer the question. Her face scrunches in thought, or maybe vexation, before she attempts to finish it again. “I’ve lived here my whole life. You know that.”

“I did, I can’t believe I forgot. Must not be sleeping well,” she mentions with a shrug as she pushes her food around on the plate.

“Speaking of, enough with the precious nostalgia. Tell me what that guy was like in bed,” Regina says, her smile just this side of wicked as she says it.

Emma’s breath backs up in her lungs for two reasons. The first is that she’s suddenly floored with images of Killian’s head between her legs, the way his mouth felt on her, the way he knew exactly what to do to get her off, and the enjoyment he’d gotten out of it in return. The second reason is that before he showed up, this is precisely something Emma would’ve shared with Regina. Of course, the blush that spreads on her face from the first thought is enough of an answer to start with. It confirms Regina’s suspicions that he’s not “just a friend,” but she’ll have to give her more.

All of this just means that Emma notices exactly how out of character she’s been since Killian first showed up. And not even as his human self, but as Cat. Almost as soon as he showed up on the doorstep to the apartment building, she’s been going out less and less. She’ll have to add “act like you used to” on the list of things she’ll have to do for the next month, because it seems like it’s getting harder and harder to be that version of herself anymore.

Emma does her best to give Regina the information that she’s looking for. She skirts around the emotional aspects of her and Killian’s relationship, just saying that they hadn’t done much. They’d only just started to get to a level of intimacy before he had to leave.

“Is he okay with you seeing other people?”

“I mean…” Is he? She has no idea. They’ve yet to actually discuss their current situation, let alone what happens when he’s not human. “We haven’t really talked about it, but we’re not really… together?”

“Good. Then we’re going out next weekend. We are long overdue for a girls’ night. And if Graham tries to schedule you the morning after again, I’ll personally beat him senseless for you.”

She does laugh at that, because this is what they used to do. This is how they used to operate. But then she got Cat/Killian, and Regina has Robin and, oh! “Hey! How are things going with Robin?”

All mentions of Killian stop after that, or of Emma going out and getting laid, or anything for that matter, because the rest of their lunch date consists of Regina swooning over her relationship with her boyfriend. Emma is happy to let her take over, preferring instead to listen instead of divulge any more information about herself.

Trying to stay proactive on the scheduling and talk to Belle as soon as possible, Emma invites her to dinner the next night, choosing the bar that she and Regina usually start with on their nights out. It’s nearly deserted, with only a few barstools occupied this early on.

Killian would yell at her for the sheer amount of fried food she shovels into her body as she and Belle “catch up.” What he doesn’t know won’t kill him, she decides, squeezing more ketchup onto her plate.

“How have you been feeling?” Emma asks when they’re slowing down with food.

“Um, I’ve been okay. I’ve been good.”

“So, is it good or okay? You know if it’s neither that you can tell me, right?”

Belle contemplates this statement for a moment, carefully sipping from her soda as she does. “Do you remember the last time I got lost?”

The question completely throws her for a loop. Because she doesn’t. But what answer is Belle looking for, exactly? It’s almost as if she’s trying to figure out if there was a last time. “Sure, don’t you?”

“No,” Belle says plainly. “I don’t. And I don’t think you do either, but you answered that way to placate me.”

“Okay, let’s say you’re right and I don’t remember the last time. Why are you wondering?”

They both take a moment to look around to see if anyone is listening, which Emma realizes the second their eyes meet again. She nods, urging Belle to continue, feeling her heart speed up at the same time.

“Do you think my father would lie to me?”

“I don’t know your father too well. I don’t really remember interacting with him much. Not much a deputy and a florist have to talk about, thankfully. Why, do you think he is?”

“I think he might be,” Belle whispers. “I don’t remember getting lost at all two months ago. In fact, I don’t actually remember things that my father claims have happened.”

“What do you remember?”

At this question, Belle starts to fidget with a napkin, going so far as to tear it into tiny pieces as she starts to recollect what she remembers. It’s mostly about the woods, and how she was sad and angry when she was standing there in the woods. That when Emma first came through the trees, she thought she knew her from somewhere else and couldn’t understand why she was dressed so funny. But that directly afterwards, she had a sharp pain in her head and forgot why she would think Emma’s clothes were funny when she was the one in a Halloween costume.

“He did show me my book collection, and sent me back to work at the library,” she says. “And I do know how much I love books, so I know he’s not lying about that. But everything else just, doesn’t seem like it fits. It almost feels as if I’m being fed some storybook life.”

“Belle, I want to ask you some questions. But they’re probably going to sound really strange at first, okay?”

The other woman nods, anxiously sipping from her straw again before settling herself.

“Have you ever traveled?”

“I… I think I did. Once or twice.”

“Your accent isn’t American, so you had to have come here from your homeland.”

“Home…” Belle says, her eyes looking down at the shredded napkin in sadness.

“Do you remember being at the end of the world on any of your trips?” She hopes with the way she phrases it that it won’t be immediately significant to anyone but the woman in front of her. “Have you ever made a sacrifice for your family? Maybe took on a job for someone to help your father?”

Belle’s eyes flutter, and when she opens them again, they begin moving rapidly back and forth, as if she’s reading her own story in front of her eyes and only she can see it. “Oh, oh my. Emma? Emma, what’s going on? What are all these – yes. Oh yes, I remember! Oh my goodness, you’re – “

“Shh, shh. It’s okay. But let’s just… Tell me about your employer.”

She has a hard time sitting still, but presses her palms to the aged tabletop and speaks quietly. “He was a strange man, but always relied on evil to get what he wanted from people. Slowly, over time, he started to change. He started to abandon his former tactics and treat people almost fairly. I thought… well, it sounds silly now. But I thought he’d started to love me, as I fell in love with him.”

“Can you tell me why he sent you away.”

The tears are welling up in Belle’s eyes as she goes through the memories. “A man came to town one day,” she says, and Emma’s stomach sinks when she realizes it must’ve been Killian. “Started asking me questions.”

“Was he pressing you for information about the guy you worked for?”

“No, actually. He was looking for his brother. Asked if I’d seen him before, but I didn’t recognize the name. Before he could ask me anything else, I was pulled back to the castle by magic and Rum – I mean, Ron,” she corrects herself hastily, “was interrogating me on what the man was asking me about, and when I told him Liam – “

Here Emma interrupts her. “Liam? You’re sure that’s what his name was?”

Belle nods enthusiastically. “Yes! When I told him that Liam was just looking for a brother named Killian, he started yelling at me.” The tears fall in earnest now, and Emma grabs a few napkins from the metal holder on the table. “Before I knew it, he… sent me away. And now here we are.” She laughs, a sardonic little thing as she dabs at her eyes and pouts. “He told me I would be safe and happy here, that I would be reunited with my father who he promised not to hurt after I started working for him. At least he wasn’t lying about him being my real father.”

Emma reaches across and pats her hand in comfort, but quickly tries to redirect when Belle starts asking if she remembers, too. “Let’s just keep this between us, for now, okay?”

Belle nods, seeming to cheer up at Emma’s conspiratorial tone. They finish their dinner, switching to lighter subjects like Belle’s work at the library and the children’s hour she was going to start up soon.

That night, as Emma walks up to her apartment building, she finds herself jealous of Belle. The look of despondency is still on her face when she walks through the front door, and Cat immediately crawls into her lap when she sits down on the couch. If she had to hazard a guess, she would say he’s frowning, but it’s hard to tell without an actual expression.

She tells him all about dinner with Belle, giving him all the details and still fighting to keep the scowl from her face. “I’m just sad that all I had to do was ask Belle a couple questions, and bam! She remembered everything. You’ve told me so much more and there’s nothing coming back. And I want to remember.”

He can’t do much in way of comforting her, so he nuzzles her chin before resting against her and purring. It’s the best she can get until he can hug her again, she knows.

Thoughts about the life she’s missing plague her for the next several days. She still occasionally has the dream about the flower field, where a younger Killian smiles at her with love. His hair is longer, pulled back with a ribbon, and his face is so much younger than the man she greets every month. She can feel in her dream how much she loves him, and it almost physically pains her heart when she wakes up with no further memories.

More than just that, though, there’s everything else Killian has told her about their lives growing up that she wants, more than anything, to remember again. The memories of growing up an orphan definitely shape a lot of who she is in this world, but she wants to remember her parents. She wants to remember their love and influence, the way they hug.

Killian’s told her a little about the magic she knows, and she wants to feel that, too. When her mind starts drifting, she rubs the tips of her fingers together, wondering if there’s a sensation that goes with the magic, and if that’s why they’ve always tingled when she wakes up from the flower dream. She resorts to rubbing her thumb along the band of her ring, instead - the one that Killian claims her mother gave her.

On the same level of importance as remembering her parents, Emma wants to remember Killian. She wants their whole story, and not just told by Killian. There’s still something he’s not telling her, which will help immensely in getting closer to that goal, but it’s more than that. She doesn’t want to remember their relationship through his eyes, but wants to remember the feelings that coincide with his thoughts. And she definitely wants to know why he always says that he’ll return her home, and not them, more than just assuming it’s because of the whole pirate thing.

Cat notices her shift in mood immediately, so he spends less time in the curtains and more time curled up on her lap. He makes sure to give her as many affectionate gestures as he can manage, taking care to paw at her nose one day as they sit on the couch watching television. She realizes, one day while he’s napping near her shoulder on the back of the couch, that it would be even slightly better if he could just stay human. She could deal with never getting her memories back if she could just have him full time.

It’s a boring day at the station when the full reality of that thought finally hits her. But she immediately pushes it out of her head that she might – she could – does she? She does, but she won’t admit it. Not even in her own mind. And it’s as that thought is hitting her that Graham walks up to her desk asking to speak with her in his office.

“Of course,” Emma says as she pushes away from her desk with mild concern. In all her time working with Graham, he’s never had that kind of tone with her. She wracks her brain for anything, realizing as she walks through the doorway that Belle’s dress is still sitting in a bag in her closet.

“Emma, has everything been okay recently? You’ve really pulled back from everyone, and I’m not the only one who’s noticed. Regina says you two were supposed to have a night out last week but that you never texted her. What’s going on?”

She knows she hasn’t been sleeping well, and certainly hasn’t been eating well since Killian changed back to Cat, so it’s almost believable when she sags her shoulders a little more and looks apologetic. “I’m sorry, Graham, I’ve been trying to just push through it, but I think I’ve got that nasty cold that’s been going around. Maybe even the flu.”

“Is that the reason you failed to properly log the evidence from Belle’s little excursion through the woods?”

Shit, so it was about the dress. “What evidence?” Double shit, she shouldn’t have lied!

“Maurice said something about you being in possession of Belle’s dress that she was wearing when you found her.”

“That… That’s impossible. That was given back to her at the hospital the day she was discharged. Her memories still aren’t fully recovered. Maybe she’s just not remembering correctly and already stored it again.”

Somehow, Graham buys it. He buys all of it, and she wants to feel bad about that, as she bundles up to go home and get some rest, but that just means she gets to nap with Cat and figure out what to do next. And if that’s what she’s supposed to do, then that’s what she’s going to do.

In the weeks that follow, Emma gets better about focusing at work and acting like she used to, finally taking her own addition to the list of acting more like her old self to heart. Shortly before the next transformation, Emma comes home to Cat somewhere in the apartment yowling for her to find him. She calls out for him to hang on as she dumps her stuff in the living room, slipping off her boots before wandering toward the sounds.

He’s in her closet, of all places, and she swears she closed the door before she left, but he’s in there anyway. At first she thinks he’s found the dress in the bag from the hospital that they stored away before he turned back to Cat. While the bag is identical, the content is definitely not the dress.

The fabric that comes into view when she finally pushes boxes out of the way and gets down to Cat’s level is not the embroidered blue that she’s used to, but a white cotton. It’s dirty, tattered, and nothing she remembers ever seeing before. But Cat has grabbed the item in his mouth and started dragging it towards her.

“What are you doing? Cat! Stop it!” She finally grabs it from him, and Cat jumps onto her folded knees, headbutting her repeatedly. “Jeez, what the hell has gotten into you?” She shoos him off and stands, working her way back out of the closet and into the light of her bedroom. Carefully, she pulls the item from the bag, letting the plastic fall to the floor as the fabric unfurls.

It’s a nightgown, but nothing that she purchased in the last couple years. It has the same style as the dress Belle showed up in, though, and Cat is still furiously rubbing against her legs and meowing at her, so it must mean something. Her thumbs caress the fabric carefully, following a line of detailed thread at the neckline. They’re swans, she realizes after a second, a line of swans swimming along the edge.

If getting her false memories felt like ice water being dumped over her head, and the ones regarding Belle felt like spikes being driven in, she’s not prepared for the feeling of this memory coming in. It’s like a gentle heat on the back of her mind, radiating down her spine until it reaches her fingers, and then her toes.

The memory that comes around is not from Misthaven or anything, and it’s definitely not anything like what she recalled for Dr. Hopper back in therapy. This is the nightgown that she arrived in Storybrooke wearing. Almost three and a half years ago, she found herself in the woods, but she doesn’t remember getting there. She does remember being scared – scared that someone was going to chase her, scrambling and falling in the same clearing where she found Belle. She had no idea what her name was, where she was, who might be coming after her. She was freezing and her head was bleeding, and then two men who’d heard her cry out in pain entered the clearing and got her to the hospital.

These are her memories.

She tells Cat everything she can remember, and she counts down the days. In preparation of this change, Emma tells him she’ll be working a couple extra hours so he won’t worry, and she spends day after day working way past the end of her shift, until it just so happens that Graham calls her into his office again, a puzzled look on his face.

“Emma, are you aware you’re well into your overtime?”

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean to go so far over. But I wanted to make up for being sick a couple weeks ago. I think I got us all caught up on paperwork and cleaned the holding cells yesterday before I left.”

He looks impressed, nodding with a smile on his face as she relays this information. “Well, you’ve more than made up for it. You’ve always been so good to this station. Why don’t you take a couple days off? I think we can hold down the fort while you take a break.”

“Oh, Graham, you don’t have to.”

“I insist. If you keep up, there’s a good chance for promotion in your future. I think it’s well overdue.”

“Thanks, sheriff. I’ll be back in a couple days ready to jump back in.” She smiles brightly at him. “Oh hey,” she starts before she opens the door to go back to her desk, “how’s it going with what’s-her-name over at the hospital?”

As she figured, he blushes and ducks his head, smiling without really meaning to in that way that people do when they’re falling for someone. A vision of Killian’s smile enters her mind and that happy feeling in her stomach flutters up again. “It’s going quite well, thanks for asking.”

“She’s good for you,” Emma says softly, giving him a genuine smile before she leaves. This all may be some kind of elaborate lie, but her friends are still her friends, and she still cares about their happiness.

She gets home right on time, grinning as she hears the shower running and calling out that she’s home as she closes and locks the door behind her. She’s able to rush in and change into leggings and a tank top, throwing a sweater over her shoulders and pulling back her hair on her way out of the bedroom in the process.

Killian emerges from the bathroom, his hair combed off to the side and his beard trimmed neatly, looking great in that pair of black jeans and a long sleeve shirt, even with the rainbow mustache socks on his feet.

“Welcome home, Swan,” he says as he moves across the room to hug her. As she sinks into his embrace, she relaxes, finally where she wants to be again.

-x-

It’s readily apparently that Emma needs the hug Killian bestows upon her when he exits the bathroom. And he has to admit, it’s a relief to have her in his arms again, especially given everything that’s transpired over the past month. It takes only a moment for him to realize that not only has she relaxed, but she’s just barely shaking.

“It’s all catching up at once, hm?”

She nods against his shoulder, sniffling once and clearly holding herself back from crying.

“I know you’re mad that you’ve only just now regained any of your own memories, but try not to be too hard on yourself, love. The only reason Belle got hers back so quickly is because these false memories like you have didn’t have a chance to take hold. If we could bring back something with an item like your nightgown, then we can possibly unlock more.”

“I have an idea,” he tells her as they settle onto the couch. She has her phone out, making a list of everything they’ve already discussed in one of the note apps. “I want to see if certain sounds or smells, maybe sensations will bring back anymore memories. You touched your nightgown and remembered arriving here, so maybe something like what we’d find in Misthaven would help with those memories.”

He notices the moment her eyes go to a painting on the wall, one with a meadow of wildflowers as far as the horizon. It’s the first time he realizes there’s something she hasn’t told him, because it looks so much like their field that he can almost smell the various blooms as he looks at it. “What do you suggest?” she asks, bringing his attention back to her.

“I’ll make a list of things I want you to do, but since I can’t leave the apartment, you’ll either have to do them on your own or acquire the items and bring them back here.”

Emma shrugs, nodding at the same time. “Okay, we can work with that.”

The next day, she heads out with the list that Killian gave her, and comes home with a couple different bags. Killian takes the one with groceries to the kitchen, immediately getting started on trying to recreate her favorite berry tarts she used to swipe from the kitchens. At the same time, Emma pops a CD into her laptop and starts it up.

She did a good job in selecting something close to the orchestras that used to play at the balls her parents put on. He finds himself getting lost in the sound of the strings, swaying to the music as he finishes preparing the tarts and pops the tray into the oven.

He finds Emma sitting on the couch with her eyes closed. “Keep your eyes shut, Swan,” he tells her as he wrangles with the furniture to push it out of the way.

“You realize I could’ve just helped you, right?”

“Shh, pay attention to the music, not me.”

The last bag she brought in is still sitting on her desk chair, and he smiles as he pulls out exactly what he’d hoped for. The waistcoat is nowhere near as well-made as what the tailors would’ve made for him, but it works. He slips it on right over the t-shirt he’s wearing, carefully doing up the buttons as the first song on the disc ends and the second one starts up.

Emma is still following his orders, keeping her eyes closed as she perches on the edge of the cushion. Now, he grabs her hand from where it’s resting on her knee and draws her up. He positions her hands where they’re supposed to go before correcting his hold on her, and then he gently leads her around the small space he’s cleared.

Her expression morphs into one of surprise, and he can see her struggling with the desire to open her eyes.

“Keep them closed, love. Just feel,” he murmurs, guiding her through an easy waltz as her hand curls over his shoulder, and Emma’s body moves as if she’s been waltzing her whole life. When the song finishes, she automatically curtsies and opens her eyes, and Killian bows low in front of her, kissing her hand as he winks up at her.

Emma laughs, the sound carefree and excited. “That was awesome. And this,” she says, indicating the waistcoat, “looks amazing on you. Can’t believe I managed to find a brocade vest.”

“Later, we’ll see if you can still spar like you used to,” he informs her. “You’ve got the muscle memory, even if you don’t remember dancing with me before.”

The way she looks, standing in the middle of her living room, elated at doing something she didn’t think she knew how to, makes Killian come to a very serious revelation. This Emma - the one standing here - and the one he last saw in Misthaven are the same person, but entirely different. And while in the past he was disappointed that she wasn’t the same as he remembered, he’s falling for this version of her. In fact, he’d hazard to say that he’s already in love with Emma Swan, resident of Storybrooke, deputy of the sheriff’s department.

Chapter 8

#cs ff #cs ff au #captain swan ff #csbb #csbb 2017 #sarah writes ff #wait for the moonrise #enchanted forest/modern au

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