#oh god I’m going to cry again over Helene I can tell

[shidoukanae]

Chapter 77 of the manhwa: says Helene is lonely just as the manhwa shows Helene saying to Fian “this is all my fault”. Also calls Helene out as being extremely similar to Lyla (something that has now been thrice reiterated by Paris, the garden guy/Hendel, and now Phillip) and this is in spite of the fact Helene and Lyla are definitely opposite of each other Literally the chapter before this (and after iirc): people who grew up close together have very similar “souls” and will be confused as being like each other by those around them. Case in point: Phillip and Fian who have been confused as each other by Daniel, Paris, and Fian’s own mother despite being very different people Me, putting the pieces together from the light novel: oh. Ohhhhhhhhh. Time to cry again oh nooooooo

Or: I’m once again astounded by the clever foreshadowing that The Mighty Extra’s manhwa partakes in and how it spoils things ahead of time if you connect the dots. Using Fian and Phillip’s changed relationship and “similar souls” thing to subtly hint at the truth of Lyla’s and Helene’s relationship is amazingly well done. It's something that goes over the head at first glance but if you notice the parallel and what it's implying...man I love TME <3 

[classicschronicles]

Hi lovelies,

I feel like I’ve just returned from ‘buying the milk’. I’m sorry I disappeared for *checks notes* 11 months, but it’s been a hectic year. I feel like if I get into it I’ll sound like an AO3 author, so here are some very quick highlights- I have just finished my first year studying Classics at university, I qualified as a fitness instructor (which is a side quest nobody asked for), I’ve become a theatre kid again, and I finally watched Game of Thrones. Studying Classics at uni is basically telling everyone that you study Classics at uni and then getting one of two reactions- “What is that? What kind of job are you going to et with that?”. To which I have no response, because honestly I’m not sure. Or the ever famous- “Oh like The Secret History?”. To which I cry inside because it is nothing like The Secret History. It is actually reading so much Thucydides that he becomes your sleep paralysis demon, and having to translate so much Caesar and Cicero that your daydreams become wishing you were in the Theatre of Pompey on March 15th 44 BC… for no particular reason. And also crying at 3am whilst you try to delude yourself into thinking that this is so dark academia core (spoiler- it’s not). All that being said- this has actually been one of the best years of my life and I am so happy I get to study what I love.

Anyways, I feel like we’re missing the most important part- and that is of course Game of Thrones. Guys. I have a crush on Jaime Lannister. HEAR ME OUT! I can fix him! I promise. I just need one chance. But also, I would fight him because why did he do my girl Brienne like that. Anyone who makes her cry can fight me fr. You know what made me cry though- Shireen Baratheon. What the fuck was that. And Ser Davaos’ finding out and his whole “I loved that girl like she was my own”. BAWLED. Anyways, it might surprise you to know that her death was actually based on a very famous greek myth- the myth of Iphigenia. So that’s what we’re going to talk about today.

Iphigenia’s story finds its beginnings in another myth entirely- the myth of Agamemnon and the Deer. Quick fun fact- the movie ‘Killing of A Sacred Deer’ is actually based loosely on this. The story goes that Agamemnon, out hunting one day, killed a deer belonging to the Goddess Artemis. This angered Artemis, not least because the deer was pregnant and Agamemnon’s little hunting accident killed both the mother and the baby.

Fast forward to some time later, Agamemnon launches a thousand ships to save his sister-in-law Helen from the Trojans at the behest of his brother Menelaus, and also the whole blood oath situation. The Spartans and the Mycenaeans make camp at the island of Aulis whilst they wait for the rest of the fleet to arrive, only to find that when they are ready to set sail once more, they cannot leave the island. There is not wind to push their ships, the air hot and heavy and remarkably still. This goes on for quite some time. Eventually Agamemnon consults the priest Calchas who tells him that the Gods (Artemis) are angry with him and demand a sacrifice. More specifically, the sacrifice of a virgin. This is also where some accounts differ- some claim that it could be any female virgin, some say that it had to be Agamemnon’s eldest daughter. In all honesty, I think the latter is probably more accurate because of the level of hesitation he shows before he makes his final decision. If he could sacrifice any virgin I don’t really think he would care.

Anyways, he obviously cant just write to his wife and say “hey babe can you please ship our eldest daughter over, I want to sacrifice her xoxo”. So he instead he comes out with an altogether more devious plan, and that is to tell his wife that the Prince Achilles wishes to marry Iphigenia before they sail for Troy. Both Iphigenia and Clytemnestra are of course overjoyed that she should marry ‘the best of the Greeks’ and she comes to Aulis where the army wait for her.

This is where it starts to break my heart a bit. On the morning of Iphigenia’s wedding day, Clytemnestra dresses her daughter and prepares her. She, of course, does not know that she is preparing her child for death. Her fathers men come to her tent and escort her and her mother to the alter. However, she never gets to say her vows because as soon as she steps onto the platform, they cut her throat and spill her blood as an offering to Artemis. Her mother is of course beside herself with shock and grief, but her husband does little to comfort her, telling her only that Artemis is appeased, and with the return of the wind he is leaving for Troy.

Euripides’ Iphigenia at Aulis, differs from this account and tells the story that on the morning of her supposed wedding, Iphigenia was aware of her fathers plan to sacrifice her and accepts with stoicism and all the bravery of a child put in an impossible position. He writes the following, heartbreaking, lines:

Iphigenia- “If only I could sing like Orpheus, father! Orpheus, who could charm even the heartless rocks into following him! If I could use such a voice and have everyone charmed, have them convinced to agree with me and follow me, then I would use that voice. But I have no such skill. The only voice I have, father, my only skill, is in my tears and, here, father, I’m giving them to you! I’m giving you my tears! I’m giving you all I have! She leans before him and embraces his knees Here, father, here is the body of a suppliant! Here is the body that your wife has given birth to. I wrap its limbs around your knees and beg you: Please father, do not cut off my life short. Let me enjoy the sweet light of day and do not force me to enter the world beneath the earth. I’m your first one, father! The first one to call you father, the first one you called daughter. Me, father! I was the first to play on your knees, the first one of your children to enjoy your love and the first one to give you a child’s love. Remember, father? You used to ask me, “I wonder, my darling, will I get to see you married one day, married and settled happily in your husband’s home, your life ever blossoming, making me proud of you?” And I’d touch your chin, my father, hang from your beard, father, like I’m doing now and say, “and what about you, father, will I get to see you, father, an old man, visiting me at my house, ready for me to repay you for your hard work in raising me?” No, you don’t remember these words, father. I do but you don’t! You’ve forgotten them and so, now, you want to kill me. Please, father! Please, in the name of Pelops and of Atreus who is your father, I beg you! Please don’t do it! And I beg you also for my mother’s sake, the woman who laboured to bring me to life, the woman who is being tortured even now. I beg you, father! What does my life have to do with the marriage of Paris and Helen father? Why has their marriage brought about my death, father? Agamemnon turns away. She continues despondently. Come, then, father, turn to me and give me a final kiss. A kiss to remember you by in the underworld, since my words have not convinced you. Agamemnon does not move. She goes over to her mother and takes baby Orestes in her arms. She swings him, sadly, gently back and forth and leans over him as she speaks to him What a weak little helper you are, my tiny brother! Won’t you cry with me, Orestes? Come on, won’t you beg your father not to kill your big sister? Come on, Orestes, even babies know when there’s trouble around! Ha! See, father? Orestes is begging you, too! Begging you by his silence. Do you not care about me any more? Spare my young life, father. Spare me! Here! Look here, father! Here are the two of us, one’s a baby, the other a grown up girl, a brother and a sister, both your children, begging you, by your beard, pleading with you… She turns and looks sadly around her, then up at the sun. That! Up there is my final argument. That light, this light all around us, will cut all other arguments to pieces. This light is the sweetest thing that can fill the eyes! The world beneath the earth is a world of nothing. Only fools would pray to go down there. I’d rather live a life full of misery than die a hero’s death!

If that doesn’t make you cry I don’t know what will. And then to top it off he follows it up 200 lines later this this tear jerker:

“C- What report shall I give to your sisters?

I-Do not dress them either in black garments.

C-Is there any word of love from you I should give the girls?

I-Bid them farewell; and make sure you bring up Orestes as a man!

C-You look at him for the last time- hold him tight!

I-(holding Orestes close): Darling boy, you helped you dear sister as much as you could!

…

I-Who will come to take me there before they drag me by the hair?

C-I will be at your side…

I-No, not you- that would not be right!

C-…holding on to your clothes!

I-Mother, oblige me in this: stay here! This is the nobler course for me and for you. Let one of my father’s attendants here escort to Artemis’ meadow where I shall be sacrificed.

(Iphigenia begins to move away from a crying Clytemnestra)

C-O my child, are you going?

I-Yes, and never shall I come back.

C-You will leave your mother?

I-Yes, as you see, we do not deserve this.

C-Wait- don’t abandon me!

I-I forbid you to shed tears. (C sinks to the ground)”.

In every version you read, however, sacrificing his daughter is not a choice that Agamemnon takes lightly. He is torn between sacrificing his daughter and angering his wife- but winning glory for the Greeks, or saving his daughter, but abandoning his men. As a father, he made the wrong choice, but as a king some would argue that he did what was expected of him.

I do like, however, in Euripides’ version the character of Achilles. He is adamant that he will not be privy to the murder of Iphigenia. He tries so very hard to save her and to offer comfort to Clytemnestra and genuinely I think that this might be one of the loveliest most favourable depictions of him.

This myth then gives way to part of the Oresteia trilogy and many many retellings of her Iphigenia’s story- every single one of which always make me want to cry. I can’t explain what it is- I know that the whole point of tragedy is that build up and release of emotion but no tragedy has every made me actually sad other than Iphigenia at Aulis.

Anyways, you can imagine my absolute horror when I watched S5 EP9 and saw Shireen tied to the alter, literally gave myself whiplash with how quickly I tried to look away from the screen.

I would say I hope you enjoyed reading about Iphigenia, but if you did you’re an absolute psycho! The two translations I used are from PoetryInTranlsation and Penguin’s 2005 edition “The Bacchae and Other Plays”. Hopefully, now that I’ve posted again I’ll try and be more regular with it and I hope you all have a lovely lovely week <33

~Z

[starlingsrps]

to the ends of the earth.

elliot’s week has been pure shit and he blames lew for it.

it’s much easier to blame a dead man when things go sideways anyway. he’s not here to defend himself.

elliot had been off for a mission, lew’s warhawk hadn’t been ready, sure he could take his spitfire (technically not his, the army’s, but it’s his where it counts). he even joked about not scratching the paint. then his goddamn plane and lew hadn’t come back. he’s lost a few too many friends over here already and while he had liked lew just fine, he had to be honest with himself: he was more pissed about the plane.

he’d flown an RAF lightning inexplicably named the jolly roger on a raid a few days later and had to turn back due to mechanical issues. the piece of shit had barely landed before collapsing on the runway like an exhausted horse.

so he’s grounded - no plane, not a damn thing to do and when there’s not a damn thing to do, he gets restless. and when he gets restless, he’s not someone that even he particularly likes being around. there are only so many times he can ask about the warhawk, now his in a fucked up, roundabout way. they’re down forts so he’s not priority and he’s fine with that and he understands but he’s also not fine and doesn’t understand. 

he’s a grown man. he knows what he’s being an ass. he doesn’t need hatcher telling him he’s being bitchy to know that. and if hatcher tells him one more time, he’s not going to be held accountable for his actions.

for the most part, he kills time reading and walking, usually slowly past the hangar where they’re repairing the warhawk.  they’re getting closer, just waiting on another part and then he can get back to it. he misses his spitfire already and tries to remind himself that change won’t kill him. he’s walking back towards the mess for a cup of coffee when one of the switchboard wacs flags him down from their little office. 

“captain howard? personal call for you at the clubhouse.

he immediately thinks of his mom or maggie, knows that neither of them would even start the complicated process of calling unless it was life or death. “really? who?”

“uh, nell howard from guy’s in london?” she squints at the notepad in her hand. “that sound right?”

oh fuck.

“oh, fuck.” he immediately breaks into a run and nearly topples the wac in the process. he sprints to the phone office, the closest thing to privacy he can get around here. 

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” he chants like a prayer before she gets past an inhale to start speaking. “i’m-“

she sighs, long and low and he can picture her entire body deflating from relief. “sorry.”

“i love you,” he offers.

another sigh. “i love you too.”

“i’m okay.”

“i know you are,” she says. “now.”

he winces. it’s been a long, long time since he had a girlfriend, let alone a girlfriend mad at him. he definitely deserves this one and knows it. “lew took my plane. i don’t know why whoever told you said the plane instead of the pilot. i was grounded.”

“i know that’s not your fault.” she sighs again and he didn’t know it was possible for him to feel more guilty but he feels like he was just thrown a shovel and told to dig. “but i can’t hear from helen that your plane went down and spend a whole night thinking you’re dead and i’m going to have to visit every cemetery in nebraska to find your grave to cry over and meet your mother that way.”

he smiles a little, glad she can’t see it because she sounds dead serious. “you went that far, huh?”

“elliot.”

he sighs, rubbing the core of the phone between his thumb and forefinger. he feels terrible. he should have called her and he doesn’t understand why the hell helen wouldn’t follow up her letter with a post script when she passed him on base the next day. but…

“i’m not used to having someone care like this,” he says and immediately regrets it. somewhere in omaha, his mother and maggie just sat bolt upright like bloodhounds at the accusation that they don’t give a shit about him. they care. god, do they care. but nell is here, nell is in england, nell feels immediate in a way that anyone back home doesn’t. he knows in a blunt, factual way what will happen if he’s killed in action, knows exactly how his mother will be informed and all of the after (he reminds himself in this moment to make sure the rubbers in his footlocker are elsewhere in that event - there are some things he’d rather his mother not find out). 

nell is different. the army isn’t going to give her that same courtesy. if he goes down, there won’t be a letter and there won’t be any announcement outside of the dispatches. she’ll think he just stopped writing, that he doesn’t care anymore and that’ll be that. the idea of that makes his blood run cold, something twist hard in his stomach. 

he reminds himself to make sure someone knows to tell her. he reminds himself to tell more people about her.

she sniffs and he swears to god that if she starts crying, he’ll go awol right now and walk to london if he has to. “i was scared. i thought you were dead or in a camp.”

“i’m like a cat, i’ve got nine lives.”

she laughs but it’s hollow. “that’s really not that many in your line of work.”

“than i have however many we need me to have.” there’s a long pause. he needs a second to find his voice again. “got it?”

“got it.” she pauses and he hears a voice in the background. “i have to go. they only gave me five minutes.”

“i’ll get a letter out tomorrow,” he promises. 

“good. elliot? i do love you.”

it makes him smile, feel better almost immediately. “good. i love you.”

she hangs up and he listens to the pop and hiss of the line, suddenly brutally lonely.

[baejax-the-great]

WIP Whenever

Listen the Ajax & Patroclus friendship lives almost entirely in my mind but together they are absolute clowns so this snippet is long.

~

“Alright, this was a weird and almost-funny reason to get me over for dinner, but can we cut the shit?”

Pat stares at him. “What?”

“You win for weirdest joke you’ve ever played on me. Kudos for just how deeply he’s chosen to commit to the bit, but can you just invite your new, very jacked, very theatrical boyfriend in here so we can have dinner and I can meet him normally?”

Pat continues staring. “He’s not… this isn’t… Why do you think it’s a joke? What did he say?”

“Almost nothing that I could understand. But 'Achileas?' Really? You should have gone with a different name. I might have played along longer.”

“What do you mean? Who is Ahi… whatever?”

Ajax folds his arms over his chest. “You’re really committed to this, too, then. Fine. Achileas. It comes from the same story as my name. And yours. Come on, Pat, you might be allergic to all things Greek, but I know even you know the name ‘Achilles’ and you can’t have expected me to let that slide.”

The name does ring a bell or two. “One of those demigods,” he says. “The boring one. Didn’t get to fight any monsters. He fought, what, Trojans? With the horse?”

“It’s hard to believe your degree wasn’t in classics sometimes.”

“Well, alright, you recognized the name; you tell me, then. What’s the story? What did he do?”

“I have no idea. I majored in football at college. But I do know Ajax, Achilles, Patroclus, and even your little dog Helen are all from the same ancient tale.”

“You think the dog is in on this? She came with that name.”

Little Helen lifts her head at this and sets herself to begging at Ajax.

“Give it up, Pat. Let it go. Let’s just eat. Achileas!” Ajax calls down the hall. “The jig is up. There's dinner in it for you if you tell me your real name.”

The stranger walks in slowly, still in his toga with Pat’s blanket thrown around his shoulders, eyes once again red-rimmed from crying.

Pat turns back to Ajax. “I understand this is coming from someone who plucked a babbling, crying man off the street and left him in my living room all day, but do you really think I would introduce a boyfriend to you like this?” Pat asks, gesturing with one outstretched hand at the weepy, hot mess he still has no idea what to do with. “It’s like you said, I’m allergic to all things Greek.” He eyes this ‘Achilles’ up and down. “A Greek-spewing demigod cosplayer is about as Greek as it gets, in really weird way that I am deeply not into.”

“He doesn’t speak Greek,” Ajax says.

“Oh.” That would explain the confusion then. Bad translator. Everything Achilles said was pure gibberish anyway, so Pat should have figured that out sooner. It must be a language that can be mistaken for Greek, like Spanish and Portuguese can be mistaken for each other. He feels oddly relieved about that.

But then Ajax goes on to say, “He speaks ancient Greek.” He turns to Achilles. “They should have taught you in your classes that they are not the same, and you wouldn’t fool anyone with this weird act.”

If Achilles understands, he doesn’t react. 

“You’re sure it’s ancient Greek?” Pat asks.

Ajax nods. “I know a few words here and there.”

“Well then can you ask him where he wants to go? Where he lives? God, Ajax, it’s not a joke. I just want to send him home.”

“No.”

“No?”  

“No. If Beowulf walked in here right now, would you be able to have a conversation with him?”

“No.”

Ajax jerks his thumb at Achilles. “Greek Beowulf right there. You’re going to need a classicist if you want to get anything out of him." He adds under his breath, "Or he could just stop fucking around.”

Pat slumps into a chair and drops his face into his hands. “Well, what the fuck am I supposed to do with him now?” he moans.

Maybe Ajax is wrong. Maybe his Greek is worse than he let on. He thought this would be the least painful way to help the stranger, but maybe it’s time to bring him to a hospital or a police department. The pit of his stomach clenches just thinking about it. He doesn’t think he can do it. It doesn’t seem like the right idea.

“This really isn’t a joke?” Ajax asks. “You really don’t know this guy? He just showed up at your work?”

Pat shakes and nods his head without looking up. Ajax puts a hand on his shoulder, and when he speaks again, he sounds furious.

“What the fuck are you playing at?” he demands. Pat lifts his head up now to see Achilles, not at all intimidated by what was frankly a scary tone of voice. All seven feet of Ajax is bristling at the stranger, and he points at him and says, “You need to leave. Whatever this is, it isn’t funny.”

[alwaysmarveling]

The Incident, The Aftermath

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Warnings: Amputation, an explosion, hints at PTSD (it’s a wee bit sad but I promise it gets happier)

Word Count: ~3k

A/N: So I finally got the guts to post something... If you like it, thank Camz :) If you don’t, sorry mi dude, I’m working on it (but constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!).

You’d slipped into the tank top and shorts easily enough, and here you were standing in front of your dresser. One look at the unruly mop atop your head caused you to let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You carefully ran the brush through your hair, allowing the knots to loosen up one by one.

You’d been leaving your hair down every day since The Incident, but that was two weeks ago. Assuming everything healed properly, Tony and Bruce were going to fit you for a prosthetic in a week, but until then you had to work with what you had… which was one less arm than you were used to having your entire life.

The universe wasn’t being very thoughtful of your adjustment—it was supposed to get up to ninety-five degrees today—so maybe today would be the day to try putting it up. You had seen some people do it on YouTube, and it didn’t seem that difficult. Plus, if you had enough dexterity to wield a knife with one hand and still leave your opponent in pieces, you should be able to put up your hair with one hand easy peasy.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, unsure of what to really do with it. You didn’t see a braid working. You could pin some of it to the side so that it wouldn’t fall in your face, but with the heat, you wanted it completely up. A messy bun could work, though; it was simple, got the hair off of your neck, and it was meant to be a bit untidy. Perfect. With the style in mind, you pushed an elastic around your wrist and set off to work.

Twisting your hair was easy enough. Looping it around to actually form a bun was slightly more difficult, but you managed. When it came time to actually loop the elastic around the bun, though, things got more complicated.

You copied the video, pressing your head against the wall to hold your hair in place while you secured the elastic. However, looping the elastic around the bun without significantly shifting your hair was proving to be extremely difficult. Nevertheless, you managed to do it. The mirror then filled with your reflection as you examined your handiwork.

Handiwork was one word for it. Simply put, it looked like a toddler had done your hair. You weren’t sure how exactly you had messed up since you couldn’t really see behind your head, but you could see the result, and it wasn’t pretty. You let out a puff of air, pulling the elastic out and reaching for your brush. One glance at the clock told you you had enough time for two or three more attempts before you had to call it a day.

Five tries later, you were no better off than you were before. Sure, the bun was supposed to be messy, but there was a certain art to a messy bun. This just looked like a giant cat spit a hairball on top of your head. On top of that, you were now running late to meet Wanda for grocery shopping.

“Miss Y/N,” FRIDAY started.

“Tell her I’ll be down in five,” you sighed, your eyes brimming with tears. You supposed one more day of leaving your hair down wouldn’t kill you even if it was going to be hot, but you just wanted to be able to take care of yourself. You hated seeing the looks of sympathy your teammates gave you every time you had to ask for help for the simplest things, whether it be grabbing a plate at the bottom of the stack or setting up equipment for training.

Sure, things were getting a little easier, like dressing yourself without help. You could deal with the phantom pain. It was excruciating, but pain was one part of the job that you were used to. You had also managed to hide your frustration from the team pretty well since The Incident, but you weren’t sure if that made it any better; half of them seemed like they were walking on eggshells when they were around you.

When it came to the nightmares, though, that was much harder to hide, especially considering you shared a bed with one of the lightest sleepers in the world. You hated waking her up every night, your body soaked in sweat and chest heaving as you forced yourself to remember that it was all over, forced your mind to believe that you were safe even when your body didn’t.

Before you could really understand what was happening, your emotions from the last few weeks bubbled over. Anger, frustration, anguish, and countless others flew to the surface, demanding to be released. Your fingers dug into your hair, yanking on the elastic—along with several strands of hair—until they flew out, hitting the floor somewhere you didn’t care to find. The hairbrush was next, being snatched from the top of the dresser and chucked at the door as hard as you could manage.

“What the- Y/N? Are you okay, babe?”

The thwack of the brush hitting the door caused you to flinch even though you were the one who caused it. Not processing your girlfriend’s muffled words at first, your eyes widened as you stepped back, and for a split second you were transported back to The Incident.

---

You grabbed the last civilian who had fallen behind the others, practically tossing them out of the building before it could explode.

“Y/N! Get out of-” Before Steve could finish his sentence, the building burst into flame, and the blast sent you flying in the air.

When you came to, the only thing you could focus on was the excruciating pain radiating from your elbow. You couldn’t make out exactly what had happened to it, but, wow, to say it hurt was an understatement.

It was several minutes later before the ringing cleared from your ears and you finally realized someone was talking to you.

“Y/N! Y/N, love, please, where are you?” The familiar voice drove you to use the little energy you had left, lifting your head off of the pavement to scan your surroundings. The dust and debris from the explosion made it difficult to see, but you could just make out her shape a few feet away from you.

“Turn… around, you doofus… I’m… behind you,” you wheezed out before letting your head hit the ground.

“Y/N! Oh my god, I thought we-” The second the former assassin saw you, her mouth dropped.

“What is it, Natty?” you asked weakly.

“Nothing, sweetheart. Just give me a second, okay? I’m going to get the rest of the team so we can get you out of here.”

“Liar,” you wheezed, half-teasing, half-panicked, but your girlfriend had already turned around. Squinting your eyes, you could just make out the small movements of her lips that told you she was talking, but the chaos and your pain and exhaustion—and probably blood loss, but you didn’t know that at the time—was making it impossible to hear what she was saying.

“Okay, they’re coming,” she reassured you, kneeling down next to you.

“What happened?” you tried again.

“You’re a hero, babe,” the redhead murmured, smoothing back your hair and brushing dirt from your face.

“Yeah?” Your voice was growing weaker, and you were becoming loopier than someone who had just come out of wisdom teeth surgery. Natasha knew it was only moments until you passed out.

“Yeah, you did it, sweet girl. You saved them all.”

“I did? I seriously hope Helen is a superhero too because someone’s going to need to save my arm. God, it hurts.” Natasha only let out a huff at your poor attempt at a joke, but you appreciated it nonetheless.

“Just hold on a little longer for me, okay? Can you do that?” Something wet hit your cheek, making you realize that your girlfriend was crying.

“Of course,” you scoffed. “Don’t…” You left her hanging.

---

After what felt like years, you finally regained your breath and returned to the present. “I’m fine,” you yelled out, your voice wavering. You knew Natasha wouldn’t believe you. Not only was she your girlfriend, but she was literally one of the best spies in the world. Sure enough, she tried to open the door, her efforts in vain since you’d locked it when you were changing.

“Hon, can you please open the door?”

“I’m fine, Nat,” you breathed out, your tone slightly more stable.

“Just let me in,” she pleaded. “Please?” Her soft voice made you sigh in resignation as you wiped your eyes. You tugged your fingers through your hair, trying to tame the bird’s nest on your head at least a little before showing yourself to her.

“Hi,” you practically whispered, not making eye contact with her once you had opened the door.

“Hey,” she responded softly, taking your hand in one of hers and using her other hand to lift up your chin. Rather than saying anything else immediately, she pressed a soft kiss to the top of your forehead as her second hand slid down to completely wrap your one hand in both of hers. The two of you stood in the doorway for a while, eyes closed and hand in hand. You weren’t a super soldier, but you were sure you could hear both of your heartbeats, yours slowing down to beat in tandem with hers.

“You okay?” she finally asked. You nodded slightly, your breathing now back to normal and the tears no longer streaming down your face.

Natasha always had a way of calming you down. You didn’t get frustrated or angry often, but when you did… the rest of the Avengers always joked that you were seconds away from becoming the next Hulk.

The former assassin slowly reached up to untangle your locks, noticing how you flinched when she first reached your hairline.

“I’ve been thinking,” she started with the faintest hint of uncertainty, “It’s been a while since I did your hair, and I saw this new hairstyle online that I thought would look really good on you…”

“Thank you,” you sighed quietly as you leaned into her touch.

“My pleasure,” your girlfriend smirked, pushing you inside your shared bedroom and closing the door behind her. She guided you to sit on the floor as she sat on the edge of the bed behind you. Brush in hand, Nat started sectioning off your hair. A small smile graced her face when you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to fully enjoy the contact.

Now halfway down your head, she spoke up again. “You know I’ll always be here for you, right?

“Nat…” you warned, although you had nothing to say afterwards, and the redhead took advantage of that.

“I can only imagine how upset you feel about losing your arm-”

“Nat,” you interrupted, your voice slightly harder this time. Natasha sighed as she continued to braid your hair.

“I’m just trying to say that I’m here for you. I was here for you before, and I’m here for you now. The number of limbs that you have doesn’t affect that. It also doesn’t affect your worth. You’re not useless, Y/N. You never were, and you certainly aren’t now.” Despite your best efforts, tears began to trail down your face. Natasha pursed her lips at the sight but continued, knowing that if she stopped now she wouldn’t have another chance to say what she needed to. “You are-” Nat’s fingers froze when you mumbled out something unintelligible, the hand over your mouth preventing you from enunciating. “What was that?” You sighed before speaking again.

“It’s not the arm. It’s not just the arm,” you corrected.

“Then what is it?” She resumed braiding your hair, her voice matching the tenderness in her hands.

“It’s- it’s the- god, this is embarrassing.”

“You have absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about, love. I’ll never judge you for anything you’re feeling,” the redhead promised, pausing once again to brush her lips above your brow bone.

“It’s the fear, Nat. I can’t go one second without thinking about the explosion. About… losing it. I’m scared 24/7, Nat, and even if I could forget about it for even a moment, I have a constant reminder.” Natasha didn’t have to see your face to know that your eyes had flickered to the remainder of your arm that hung by your side. “And, god,” you laughed bitterly, “god, does it make me feel weak. What kind of Avenger constantly lives in fear and panic? How am I ever supposed to help anyone like this?”

“Y/N.” She stopped braiding your hair for the third time, pulling on it slightly so that you were forced to meet her eyes above you. “You are the strongest person I know. I know you’re scared, but guess what? You went through something super traumatic. It’s okay to be scared. Honestly, I might be more concerned if you came out of that and you weren’t scared at all. All of us get scared, and that’s perfectly valid because being scared does not make you weak. Being scared means you value your life, and that’s a good thing.” She paused her speech to relax her grip on your hair, but your head remained tilted, captivated by the passion and emotion that filled your girlfriend’s face and voice.

“And the Avenger that lives in fear and panic is the same one that was ready to give up her life to save people. You helped people in the past not because you had two arms or because you weren’t scared of stuff. You helped them for the sole reason that you made a commitment to helping others, to making the world a better place, and that is the sole reason why you will still be able to help others.” Natasha’s whole body was trembling. The hands that held your hair were white at the fingertips as she clenched them. 

“I admire you more than anyone else in the world. You’re a hero, Y/N. Not ‘were,’ but ‘are.’ You’re the hero of every single person whose life you saved, and you’re my hero.”

“I didn’t-” Despite your interruption, the spy didn’t stop talking.

“You saved my life, Y/N, the second you walked into it. You give me a reason to live, to wake up every morning. And you’re my hero even more so now than before because you get up every day with a smile on your face, no matter what’s thrown at you.”

“Not much of a smile now,” you sniffed. Despite the tears that blurred your vision, you couldn’t stop the corner of your lips from curling up slightly. Nat laughed at the juxtaposition, finishing up the intricate braids woven in your hair before turning you around to face her.

“But look how quickly that changed,” she teased, pecking your lips after she wiped the tears from your face.

“Thank you,” you repeated for the second time in less than fifteen minutes.

“It was my pleasure. Plus, I was right, this hairstyle does look really good on you.” You bit your lip in embarrassment as you turned your gaze to the floor. “I’ll always do your hair for you, milaya.”

“I was actually thinking of shaving it off,” you smirked. As you examined your reflection in the mirror, you couldn’t help but agree with Natasha. You looked good, missing arm and all. A little teary-eyed and runny-nosed, but amazing nonetheless.

“Don’t you dare,” your girlfriend scoffed. “I know I said I wasn’t leaving, but I might at that,” she winked.

“Hey!” You tackled her to the ground. Reaching for her abdomen, her eyes widened as your grin grew larger.

“Y/N, don’t you dare-” You talked over her, not paying attention to her threat.

“I can still tickle you with one arm.” The spy didn’t get the chance to respond before you pounced, smiling at the sound of her laughter.

“Stop, Y/N, please!” she managed to get out.

“Are you going to leave me then? Huh?”

“No, no! I won’t! I’ll never leave you! Please, just stop!” You let up on the tickling, gently brushing away the hair that was thrown over her face seconds ago. “Great,” Nat groaned, “now I need to redo my hair.”

“Sorry,” you giggled sheepishly. Seeing the pout on her face, you bent down and met her lips with yours.

“I meant it, though.”

“That you need to fix your hair?” Natasha laughed at the way your head had adorably cocked to one side.

“No, silly, that you’re my hero. That you’re the strongest, most admirable person I know. That I’ll always be there for you, and that I’ll always do your hair for you, even when you don’t need me to do it for you any longer.”

“I love you.” You kissed her again. “And I will always love you.” Noticing a slight shift in her face, you paused, studying her expression. “Don’t you dare start singing that song.”

“Miss Y/N, Miss Maximoff is wondering if you are alright.”

“Shoot, I need to go grocery shopping with Wanda!” You scrambled to get off of the floor, smoothing out your clothes before looking for your shoes. “Uh, FRIDAY, tell her I’m so sorry and I’m coming down right now.”

“One more for the road?” Nat pouted just before you reached the door.

“Of course. Thank you again, for everything.” Your lips melted together for a second before you pulled away.

---

“Wanda, I’m here, I’m so, so sorry!” You half-ran, half-slid down the hallway to meet your best friend at the door.

“Hey,” Wanda turned to greet you. “What took you-” She paused upon making eye contact with you. “I like your hair,” she grinned.

“Thanks,” you smiled back, “Nat did it for me.”

[potrix-the-queerschlaeger]

joy in my heart - chapter 1

Or; What if Johnny had been forced to step up? [On AO3.]

 February 5th, 2002

“What do you mean she’s gone?” Johnny glances away from the awkwardly shifting nurse, over to the empty hospital bed. The sheets are rumpled, one of the tabloids Shannon loves to hate lying open on the pillow. Her favorite mug, the tag of the tea she’s started drinking against the morning sickness hanging over the rim, is sitting on the bedside table. “To the bathroom? The cafeteria?”

“Mr Lawrence,” Shannon’s doctor speaks up, and the pity in his voice that he doesn’t quite manage to hide makes something heavy settle in Johnny’s stomach, “your girlfriend left the hospital earlier this morning—”

Johnny’s shaking his head. “No, she—she gave birth a day ago? She—”

“Ms Keene discharged herself, against medical advice, about an hour ago.”

Before Johnny can even begin to wrap his head around any of that, there’s a soft knock on the door. The nurse goes to open it, gesturing for the woman on the other side to come in. She’s got a clipboard under her arm, and a no-nonsense expression on her face.

“Ah, right on time,” the doctor greets somberly. Then, addressing Johnny again, he says, “Mr Lawrence, allow me to introduce you to Mrs Porter.”

“Mr Lawrence,” Mrs Porter says, with a curt nod. “Francis Porter, Child Protective Services. Why don’t we take a seat?”

In his crib, Robby starts crying.

(Watch out for the break!)

 February 14th, 2002

They won’t let him take Robby home.

Johnny’s sitting on the old, dirty carpet floor in their—his, now, he supposes, with Shannon fucked off to who knows where—shitty little one-bedroom apartment, his back against the couch, and a mostly empty bottle of the cheapest whisky the gas station had to offer on the coffee table in front of him.

The foster family they’ve lined up has experience with babies like Robby, they’d said.

It’s too early to tell if there is going to be lasting damage, they’d said.

We can refer you to people who know how to help, they’d said.

No one is trying to take your son away from you, they keep saying.

Yeah, right.

Johnny reaches for the bottle again.

“Happy fuckin’ Valentine’s Day, Shan.”

 April 21st, 2002

Robby is asleep. He’s asleep in some strange woman’s arms, tiny chest rising and falling steadily, looking so damn peaceful—

Johnny turns around and walks away, ignoring Mrs Porter calling after him.

 June 13th, 2002

“Please, Mr Lawrence,” the guy who stole Robby, who’’s telling him he can’t see his own fucking kid says, blocking Johnny’s view into the house, “you can’t be here, not unsupervised. You know you can’t.”

Johnny takes a step forward, swaying on unsteady feet. “I just—I just wan’ to—only for a minute. One minute, okay? ‘S all I’m askin’, okay?”

In the distance, Johnny can hear sirens.

He blacks out before the cops arrive.

 July 8th, 2002

 “Fetal alcohol spectrum disorders (FASDs) are a group of conditions that can occur in a person whose mother drank alcohol during pregnancy. Symptoms can include an abnormal appearance, short height, low body weight, small head size, poor coordination, behavioural problems, learning difficulties and problems with hearing or sight. Those affected are more likely to have trouble in school, legal problems, participate in high-risk activities and have problems with alcohol or other drugs. The most severe form of the condition—”

Johnny doesn’t bother putting  the book back before he stalks out of the library.

 July 9th, 2002

“My name’s Johnny. I’m—I’m an alcoholic? That’s what you’re supposed to start with, right? My kid, uh, Robby? He’s the reason I’m here, I guess? He’s not staying with me right now. For obvious reasons. His mom’s not in the picture. I—look, I don’t really know what the hell you want me to say? I just—I just want to see my kid, man.”

 August 4th, 2002

Robby is six months old. He looks at Johnny with big, curious, familiar blue eyes, thumb jammed into his mouth. He’s drooling all over his sleeve, wispy blond hair sticking up wildly from the nap he’s just woken up from. He’s still got pillow creases on his chubby little cheek.

“He’s been doing really well lately,” Helen tells Johnny, with a soft little smile. She bounces Robby, smoothing back his hair. “Isn’t that right, honey? Are you ready to say hi to your daddy?”

Johnny’s heart is in his throat.

His hands fumble, for a moment, when Helen passes Robby over, before he manages to settle on under Robby’s butt, and the other on his back. Slowly, carefully, Johnny lifts him out of Helen’s hold, pulling him close against his chest.

Robby makes a cooing baby noise, still staring at Johnny, and curls his free hand into the collar of Johnny’s shirt.

Johnny is holding his son.

For the very first time.

He is never letting go again.

Ever.

 October 25th, 2002

“—crying for, like, forty minutes now? That can’t be normal? Right? I’m—what the hell am I doing wrong, he won’t stop—”

“Johnny.” Helen, in Johnny’s less than expert opinion, sounds way too calm, considering the situation at hand. “We knew this was going to be an adjustment for him. First overnight visit with you, in an unfamiliar apartment, a complete deviation from his usual routine. He’s probably just a little confused.”

Confused because he’s staying with his deadbeat, piece of shit father.

Right.

“He’ll be fine, Johnny. You’re doing great,” Helen reassures him, as if reading his mind. Johnny squints suspiciously. “You’ve bathed him, fed him, changed him—”

Whatever she says after that, Johnny doesn’t hear, since Robby decides to add flailing to his sobbing, and yanks the phone right out of Johnny’s grasp.

“—some calming music,” Frank is suggesting, when Johnny manages to jam the receiver back between his ear and shoulder. “Helen is partial to ‘Stuck On You’, but anything slow will do, in a pinch. Put on some music, walk him around, bounce him. You’ll be fine.”

Music. Yes. Okay.

That’s definitely doable.

Only.

“Wait, Lionel Richie? What the hell have you been teaching my kid, oh my god, and they let you be foster parents? Unbelievable—”

“Johnny.” Helen’s clearly trying to hold back laughter, and not doing a very good job of it. And that, somehow, is enough to finally make Johnny listen. Really listen. She wouldn’t laugh at him if Robby was in actual danger. “You will be fine. Both of you. All right?”

Johnny doesn’t own anything Richie, obviously, but one of the boxes he hasn’t unpacked yet is stuffed full of all his mom’s old tapes. He rummages through it one-handed, while Robby attempts to make him go bald prematurely, until his fingers land on an old, well-loved copy of ‘Rumours’.

“Definitely beats Richie,” Johnny murmurs, and pops the tape into his cassette player.

Robby is probably just startled, when it starts in the middle of a not exactly slow song, but he does finally, blessedly, stop crying. He still looks like he’s thinking about it, though, so Johnny hugs him a little tighter, and starts singing along.

All I want is to see you smile. If it takes just a little while. I know you don't believe that it's true. I never meant any harm to you.

 February 4th, 2003

They’re celebrating Robby’s first birthday at Helen and Frank’s house.

There isn’t a huge crowd present, but Johnny had still been surprised at how many familiar faces were there to greet him.

“Like we’d miss this,” Tommy had scoffed, elbowing him in the ribs, while Jimmy’d nodded along. “Nowhere else we’d rather be, man.”

Bobby had just pulled him into an almost bone-crushing hug, and whispered quietly, “I am so proud of you, John.”

Because making someone cry at their kid’s birthday party was, apparently, a thing priests did.

Johnny is sipping his apple juice, squished onto the couch between Bobby and Tommy, when there’s a dull thud from the other side of the room. Helen is standing right by Robby, who’s looking mostly confused as to why he’s on the floor instead of toddling towards the gift table, frowning down at the carpet as if it’s personally offended him.

Then, his lower lip begins to wobble.

Helen is right there. Frank not five feet away.

Robby looks up at her, at Frank, then over at Johnny. Lifting up his arms, eyes wide and wet, he demands, “Dada?”

Johnny’s never moved faster in his life. “I’m right here, buddy. I’ve got you.”

[somethinginthewayiam]

Rushing off set

Pairing: Henry x reader

Warnings: language, a lot of fluff

Words: 1783

Summary: Henry is in the middle of filming the Witcher when he gets the call that his girlfriend is in labor. He rushes off set, completely forgetting that he is in full Geralt wig and costume...

Marcie, Henry‘s PA on the set of The Witcher, was watching the dialogue scene around the camp fire behind camera, holding his coat for when the director yelled cut. They were shooting outside in the nearby forest. It was dark and cold, not unusual for fall in England.

When Marcie shifted her weight from one leg to the other, she also transferred the coat from one arm to the other and that’s when she felt the vibration at her leg. It must be Henry’s phone. She opened the zipper and pulled out the actor’s phone. Normally, she wouldn’t do this but Henry gave her the permission as his little girl was due any minute now.

When Marcie activated the front screen, the phone almost fell out of her hands. 21 missed calls, 15 messages. And that minute seemed to be right now. A new message just popped up on the screen.

WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!?!?! MY WATER BROKE. ON MY WAY TO THE HOSPITAL!!!

“Oh fuck”, she mumbled to herself. Marcie took a step forward, but then stopped herself. She knew she should tell him right away, but she was also so new to set that she didn’t dare to interrupt a scene. With restless feet, Marcie waited in her spot for the director to finally yell cut. It was probably just 5 minutes, but it felt like 5 hours to her.

“CUT! Thank you”, the director finally called out and Marcie rushed over to Henry, who was sitting on a log at the camp fire. She basically threw his phone at him and held the coat up for him to get in. “Y/N’s water broke. She’s on the way to the hospital”, she immediately said. It took Henry a second to understand what his PA just told him. “Shit, fuck, okay”, he said as he jumped to his feet, but then didn’t move an inch. “GO!”, Marcie yelled at him.

Henry finally rushed off set, people turning their heads as they watched him leave. Marcie ran after him. “The baby’s coming. The baby’s coming”, she told everyone she passed to explain Henry’s sudden exit. Amid the applause of the people crowding the set, Henry headed towards his car. Only on the far edge of his conscience, he noticed people congratulating him and patting his back.

Marcie had trouble keeping up with him. She only arrived at his car when he closed the door behind him and started the engine. “Good luck, Henry. Congrats!”, she shouted at the car driving off the parking lot.

When she turned around to walk back to set, she suddenly stopped and her eyes went big. Henry was still in his full Geralt get-up. Leather armor, wig and everything. “That’s gonna be interesting”, she mumbled to herself when she continued walking.

 “Hello, I’m looking for my girlfriend. She’s having our baby, probably right now”, Henry said to the nurse at the receptionist’s desk. She only looked at him with big eyes, her mouth falling open but not a word coming out.

“Henry!”, he heard the voice of his brother Nick. He was coming at him with fast steps. “Vicki and I brought her in…hahahaha”, Nick started laughing. Henry didn’t think there was anything funny about his girlfriend giving birth and he might be missing it because his brother rather laughed in the middle of a hospital than showing him the way to Y/N’s room.

“Oh, she’s gonna love that”, Nick said and with that led the way to your room. Henry could hear you before he could see you.

“You’re doing so good, Y/N, keep breathing. Deep breaths”, Vicki coached you through another contraction. They were coming every minute now and getting heavier by the second.

“He’s here! I found him down in the lobby”, Nick exclaimed as he entered the room, Henry right at his heels. Vicki turned around and suppressed a laugh as she spotted Henry in his Geralt wig and outfit. She let go of your hand and made way for the daddy-to-be.

“I’m here, baby. I’m here”, Henry said and rushed to your side, grabbing your now empty hand. Just as the contraction washed away, already bracing yourself for the next one, you finally looked over at your boyfriend. “Oh, you gotta be kidding me!”, you breathed out. Your forehead was sweaty, little strands of your hair sticking to your skin.

“I rushed right off set when I got the news. I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier”, Henry explained and kissed the back of your hand apologizingly.

“Please tell me you have your other clothes in the car?”, Nick asked his little brother before you were able to. “No, I forgot it in my trailer”, Henry said after recollecting his memory. “My bag”, you just nodded as you felt another contraction coming. You packed a pair of sweatpants and a shirt for Henry as you feared this might happen. Vicki got your bag out of the little closet and pulled out said clothes shortly after.

The CTG started beeping a little hectically as the next contraction started. You squeezed Henry’s hand hard to relief some of the pain. You were taking deep breaths and releasing it in short, quick breaths just like you had learned in your classes. Henry was doing it with you, but besides that there wasn’t anything he could do. He never felt more useless.

“Ah, the White Wolf has joined us. Finally”, your doctor said as she came through the door. In previous appointments, you have established that your OB/GYN was a fan of the show, but, thank god, was not fangirling over Henry.

“Y/N, I’m going to check on your dilation real quick. The rest of you have to leave for a minute, okay?”, she told everybody. Henry went into the little bathroom adjoined to your hospital room to change his clothes and Nick accompanied him to help him out of his costume. Vicki stayed with you to hold your hand.

When Henry and Nick came back out, the doctor was gone. “She said, Y/N’s at 9 centimeters so it’s gonna be any minute now”, Vicki updated the men and Henry took his place by your side again.

Just then, a bunch of nurses and your doctor came back in and it started getting hectic. Vicki and Nick left the room, but told you they would wait outside.

Henry was now dressed in his sweatpants and shirt, but still had the wig on. Out of the corner of your eyes, you noticed a fake scar on his arm. But you had other things to worry about.

The doctor sat down on a little chair right in front of the bed and had you scooting down a bit. “Alright, with the next contraction, I need you to push with everything you’ve got, Y/N”, your doctor told you. A nurse lifted and bent your legs, showing Henry how to hold it to help you as best as he could. Then she walked around the bed to the other side and held your other leg.

You gripped the handle bars of the bed and braced yourself. The CTG in the corner started beeping hectically, but you didn’t need that reminder. “Now. Push, Y/N, push”, the doctor said. You bent forward, putting your chin on your chest and pushed with everything you got. Henry put his hand on your upper back, helping you to push forward while his other hand still held your leg.

It took a few good pushes before your little girl was finally out. The doctor put her on your chest while a nurse cleaned her face. She was crying at the top of her lunges and it was the best sound you had ever heard. You cried out of relief, looking down at the little baby on your chest.

Henry kissed you and you found him crying as well. All you two had ever wanted in life had just come true.

“Would daddy do us the honors?”, the doctor asked and held up a pair of medical scissors for Henry to cut the umbilical cord. With shaking hands, Henry made the cut and quickly handed off the pair of scissors, already fearing he could hurt his baby girl in any way.

“What will the little girl’s name be?”, the nurse asked as she was filling out the birth certificate. “Amanda”, Henry said for you as you were still busy crying.

“Alright, Helen will take Amanda to her first check-up”, the doctor explained as a nurse came over, wrapped a blanket around your baby and took her off your chest. “Daddy, you can go with your little lady. Mama and I still have a few things to do here”, the doctor continued. You already missed your daughter but you knew she was in good hands.

 After the check-up, nurse Helen led Henry back into your room. There was nothing left from the little chaos that had just happened a few minutes before. You were resting in your bed, barely able to keep your eyes open, even though you felt like you could finally beat Henry at arm wrestling.

Helen sat Henry down in a chair next to your bed, asking him to take his shirt off. He would now have his first skin-to-skin with his baby girl. With quick and trained fingers, the nurse gently wrapped your baby out of the blanket and put her on Henry’s chest, showing him how to hold her best. Then, she wrapped the blanket back around the two of them.

And then the three of you were alone for the first time. You looked over at your boyfriend holding your daughter at his chest. You felt your eyes tearing up. You had never seen something more beautiful. Even thought he was wearing the Geralt wig and the fake scars.

“We did it, baby”, you mumbled with a big smile. Henry looked up at you, tears in the corners of his eyes. “You did it. You were amazing, baby”, he said and looked down at the sleeping girl in his arms. He didn’t dare to move an inch ever again.

Only a little while later, Nick and Vicki came into the room, congratulating you on becoming parents and meeting their new niece. Nick took a picture of Henry with his little girl which Henry later posted on his Instagram with the caption, “Geralt met our little girl before me. The past hours where the most life-changing I had ever experienced. As you can see, I rushed off set to not miss the birth of our little girl. Mother and child are healthy and absolutely perfect. Let the new chapter of our lives begin, @Y/I/N”

[sadistgalore]

Chapter 15: Luther's Brilliant Fucking Plan

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Taglist: @tropes-for-my-md-daydreams, @whumptakesthecake

Please let me know if you would like to be added/removed from the taglist.

CW: dehumanization, pet whump, lady whump, captivity whump, referenced torture (branding and burning), hair pulling/grabbing, referenced noncon, blackmailing, death threats, multiple whumpers, multiple whumpees, manhandling, shock collars, infidelity, creepy/intimate/delusional/sadistic/possessive whumper(s), noncon touching, noncon kissing, stabbing, implied torture/noncon

“So, how was she?” Dark asked as he sat down in the chair opposite Luther on the couch, both of their pets kneeling next to them.

He had returned from Maryland not even five minutes ago, giving a short greeting to his friend and a heartfelt kiss to his housewife.

“Oh, she was wonderful, Ed. You trained her well,” Luther said with a shit eating grin.

Dark chuckled, pleased that his defiant pet behaved so well for his best friend. Her hands were twisting and pulling the fabric of her dress, but he couldn’t care less at the visible discomfort on her face.

“I’ve noticed she has a few more scars than when I left her, including a brand,” he said in a low voice, face in a scowl once he stared at the designed burn on her right arm.

Luther didn’t look the least bit threatened at his friend’s dangerous tone. “Believe me, it was justified. She made a new friend,” he said in a mocking tone before harshly pulling at his pet’s hair.

Killian gasped as his scalp was pulled, every instinct telling him to sit still, though. His arms had healed fairly well, but the burns on his face would be deeply scarred for a while, if not forever.

“I see he had his own share of punishment as well,” Dark added, looking at the boy’s scarred face and arms.

“Your girl tried to feed him against my permission, then her defiance rubbed off on him. But I had them under my control soon enough,” Harper forced down a whimper as she recalled the horrific week of rape and torture she had spent with the man, who wasn’t sharing even a fraction as he should have with her captor. But she knew better than to say anything.

She then felt hands gripping her chin, taking her out of her thoughts. “Harper, did he touch you at all like the way I do?”

The girl swallowed as she stared at the familiar and possessive look on her captors face, before fearfully glancing over at the man on the couch. Luther’s face was emotionless, but she knew his mind was threatening her if she dared to tell the truth.

The kitty had finally stopped crying, knees tucked up to her chest on the bed. She and the dog, who was still tied to the chair, were staring at each other, regret in the dog’s and anger in the other.

“I’m gonna tell him, as soon as he gets back,” the kitty promised, throat scratchy and raw by the night they had shared together.

The man finished zipping his pants and rolled his eyes, not bothered to talk as he reached down to grab his shirt off the floor.

Kitty painfully sat up, pissed that he wasn’t paying attention to her. “I’m serious. He’s the only one allowed to rape me, he told you-”

Doggy screamed as his shock collar was set off yet again. Master grabbed his hair painfully, forcing him to look at Kitty.

“He. Is. Mine. Like you are Edward’s. Ed can do whatever the fuck he wants to do with you when I’m gone, just like I can do whatever the fuck I want to do with him. No one will care if I kill him, understand? If I even suspect that Edward knows what happened here tonight, and what will continue to happen, your precious little Ian is going to have a long and painful death. Understand?”

Kitty didn’t respond, just let out a small sob and rolled back over on the bed. The man smiled as he let go of the dog’s hair, walking out of the bedroom leaving two broken pets behind.

Harper breathed out, trying to not give away the emotion on her face, for Killian’s sake. “No, just the brand and a few beatings, Master. I was good for him just like you told me to.” It was forced, she knows, but best not to make him angry when he just got back.

Dark smiled, patting her head. “Very good girl. Sorry for the accusation, Lou, you know how I get about my pets.”

Luther laughed. “No worries, Ed. Besides, I would never dream of touching her.”

Killian’s heart dropped as he stared at the girl, watching her try so hard to keep a straight face and not tell what really happened.

All for him.

Dark changed the subject matter quickly. “Anyways, did you hear the news? Helene’s going away to Philadelphia for three weeks.”

Harper looked up confused. Helene? As in Congresswoman Helene McKinley? Beth’s boss?

“Really?” Luther questioned. “She never leaves DC.”

“Had to take care of a personal matter. She ensured the subject will be one of ours soon.”

“Very good. What does that leave you then?”

“I was thinking of taking Harper back to my base again,” Dark started, fingers flowing through his pet's raven hair to keep himself calm. “Possibly my manor, but you know how my gang loves to talk. And with how often Noah comes around, he’ll be sure to share my new pet with Noami. I’m afraid it’s too much of a risk to my marriage to take her anywhere but here.”

Luther chuckled. “Noami will never stop running her mouth to Helene if she finds out. ‘Helene did you hear? Your Edward found himself another slut to fuck behind your back! If you don’t murder his ass right now, I will do it for you!’” He finished the imitation with a smile, but Harper couldn’t tell if it was genuine or not when she stared at him.

Dark laughed at the scene, but continued. “Unfortunately, coming here to Delaware constantly prevents me from running my base in DC. I can’t let her be another one of my one-offs, she’s,” the man stopped to grasp her chin again, thumb running over her lip, “Special.”

Luther sat in silence for a moment, then spoke up as if a lightbulb had just casted a light over his head. “How about taking her to my building? The top floor is a private penthouse that I only have access to, with tons of rooms and space for you two to live. You’ll be easily able to travel between your base and there, and I could watch her while you’re gone!”

Watch her while you’re gone. Harper wished she had the nerves to scream her protests against the idea. But in reality, which one is the lesser of two evils? A sadistic man who sees her as nothing but a kitty, or a delusional man who sees her as a housewife that he can kill at any moment?

Dark scratched her chin, pondering the idea. Killian stared blankly ahead, a distant part of him hoping his Master’s idea would work; maybe he could see Harper more.

“You know, Lou, I think I’ll take your deal,” Edward said after a moment of silence. “Are you sure it’s not a problem for you?”

Luther waved him off. “Don’t worry about it. I barely use it anyways. You can even use it after Helene comes back or for as long as you need.”

“Thank you, Luther,” Dark said with a genuine smile, not the creepy one he always uses on Harper. “I owe you one.”

Luther nodded, scratching his pet's hair one last time before getting up. “Well, I should be getting back. Give me a call when you’re coming, and I’ll be sure to sneak you in.”

Dark got up as well, going out to shake his friend's hand. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Luther. We’ll be there by tomorrow evening.”

You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Beth.

Luther shook back with a smile. “Oh, I know. I’ll be looking forward to seeing you.”

I know, Harp. Now come on, we gotta catch the bus to get back home.

How do I get back home to you, Beth?

“Come on, Kill.” Killian rushed to get up, back hunched as he stood next to his master. As Dark walked towards the door to open it for him, Luther quickly turned around towards Harper, his dangerous gaze vastly different from his friendly one just a minute ago.

“If you say anything, I’ll kill him,” Luther whispered, hand gripping Killian’s neck as he raised an eyebrow at Harper.

Harper gave a slight nod, staring at Killian before mouthing, Goodbye, Ian.

The boy swallowed against the tight hold. Goodbye, Harper.

Luther rolled his eyes and pushed the boy towards the door, giving Dark one final goodbye before leaving. The said man closed and locked the door, loosening his tie as he walked back to his pet.

Harper’s instincts were screaming at her to run away from his predatory walk, but she stayed kneeling before her hair was harshly grabbed and she was pulled to her feet. “Oh, darling,” Dark said with a sick smile. ”It’s been so long since I’ve heard you scream.”

The pain on her scalp was relieved just before she was thrown across the room, back hitting the couch before falling to the floor. She shakingly looked up, expecting anger from her captor, but all she saw was lust. The extreme lust to hurt her.

Harper whimpered, lips trembling as she moved back until she hit the TV stand behind her. Why did this have to be her life? She was a good person- she was a detective for God’s sake. She devoted her life to searching for her brother who everyone said was dead. She worked to expose the most dangerous and corrupt people in her city with her best friend. And now she was a fucking pet for one of them, the same man that ruined her life seven years ago.

The girl heaved in before she broke down sobbing, her fight leaving as her reality came crashing down. The previous discussion was two sick men talking about moving her, so no one will know where she is. Or even alive. And if she wasn’t useful to him anymore, she would die.

Dark cooed as he kneeled down, fingers brushing the hair out of her face. “Oh, sweetheart, I know. You’re just so excited to see me. Don’t worry, I’ll make up for all the time we missed.”

Harper couldn’t even plead for mercy before her vision partially blacked out. Her head erupted in pain as it was slammed into the stand behind her. Through the fog that formed in her vision, she felt herself be laid down on the ground, and a heavy weight be placed on her waist.

She heard a murmur from above her. “Daddy missed his toy.” Dark’s face leaned down, lips trailing her neck. She felt his breath on her face that smelled of tobacco. Then she was forced to listen to her shirt being ripped open.

The man kissed her lips, passionately and with emotion that shouldn’t come from a man like him. His tongue slid in, trailing her gums and teeth and making sure to consume every part of her. Harper suddenly screamed when a knife was plunged into her shoulder, shrills and pleas being drowned out by the kiss as the knife dug deeper into her skin.

Dark pulled back, stomach filling with joy as he saw the tears cover her face, his finger going to trace the wound in blood. He made sure to coat himself in it before touching her face again, smearing her own blood there. He smiled maniacally as Harper’s scream almost shook the room when his thumb dug into the wound, every movement causing her face to contort in unbearable pain.

She’s never looked so beautiful.

“I love you, Evie,” he said before hungrily kissing the girl on the floor again, screams never stopping as she writhed under the man who would never let her go.

---

Nic almost fell off his chair as he heard a knock on his front door. His hair was a mess, eyes sunken and colored due to many sleepless nights, and clothes that had not been changed since five days ago. He scrambled to open it, seeing the familiar blonde and curly hair of the secretary.

“Beth,” Nic said in almost disbelief. From their falling out yesterday, he had figured she wouldn’t want to see him at all. But the girl looked at him with a sudden determination he had not seen the previous day.

“Let’s find Harper and expose these fucking bastards.”

Nic smiled and stepped back to let her in. “After you, Mrs. Carrien.”

[johnsbleu]

Hold My Hand: John Wick x Reader Chapter 100

warnings: vomit (yeah, we’re just gonna have to get used to that at this point), slight Haunting of Hill House spoiler (lol what), and a quick little nsfw moment Hold My Hand Masterlist

You’re bent over the sink as you try to stop yourself from throwing up, but it’s not really working. You’ve been feeling a lot more nauseous today, and you’ve convinced yourself that it’s the flu now. Deep down, you think you know, but you don’t want to get your hopes up. Plus this is Finn’s first Christmas, and you definitely don’t want to overshadow that since you know how much this means to Tess and Jimmy.

There’s a knock at the bathroom door as it slowly opens, and you see John poke his head in, “Hey, you okay?”

You press the towel to your mouth and nod your head, “Pretty sure I caught the flu.”

John walks over to you and feels your forehead, “Your head isn’t too hot. You should maybe stay home though. We’re just looking at houses today. No need to go if you don’t feel good. I could even FaceTime you the whole time if you want.”

You shake your head and look up at John, “No, I’m fine to go. I can push through it for today.”

John holds your hand as you walk back into the living room, and he helps you put on your jacket. You smile at John as he zips up your coat, then he leans down to kiss you, but you back away.

“No kisses today. I don’t want to get you sick.”

He frowns dramatically, then he presses a kiss to your lips anyway, “I don’t care about getting sick. I want to kiss my wife.”

You close your eyes and lean against John’s chest, “I’m kinda sleepy too.”

John laughs as he leans down to kiss you again, “You’re just a mess today, aren’t you?”

“I am.” you laugh as you walk with John out to the car.

John helps you get in the car, then he runs back inside and comes out a few moments later with a bottle of water, some crackers for you, and a plastic bag. He smiles as he gets in the car and hands them to you, and you smile wide.

“Just in case you start to feel sick while we’re out.” he says and presses the button to open the garage, “Your mom and Tess are meeting us at the first house. It’s only 15 minutes away.”

“Great, so she’s super close. And no, I didn’t mean that to sound so sarcastic.”

John laughs as he pulls out of the driveway, and he reaches over for your hand, “It’s on the Northwest side of Oyster Bay, so yeah, she’d be closer to us. The other house is even closer though, just a ten minute drive.”

You nod your head as you look out the window, and you move your hand to your stomach when you feel the queasy turning of your stomach.

“Can you pull over? Please.” you look at John and cover your mouth, “Like right now!”

John pulls the car to the side of the road, and you quickly open the door so you can vomit. He reaches over and holds your hair back, then he rubs your back with his other hand.

“Get it all out, baby.” he says, and you vomit again.

You cough loudly and reach for the tissue John is handing you, and you wipe away the vomit on your chin as you sit up. You exhale loudly and take a big drink of water, then you eat a few crackers before John says anything.

“You good?”

You swish some water in your mouth and spit out, then you look over at John and smile as you close the car door, “I feel so much better.”

“I think you’re getting sick.” John frowns, rubbing his hand over your back, “I’m sorry, peach.”

“It’s okay.” you laugh as you put your seat belt back on, “If I can get the vomiting out of the way now, I’ll be fine.”

John laughs as he puts the car back in drive, then he reaches for your hand again, “Nothing can hold my girl down, huh?”

“Well, ya know…” you playfully shrug and flip your hair as he laughs.

“If you get sick at any point today, you need to let me know so I can take you home.”

“I will.” you press a kiss to the back of John’s hand, then you reach into your purse for a piece of gum.

__

As soon as John pulls in front of the first house, you gasp loudly – it’s beautiful, but it’s huge. You already know your mom will say that she doesn’t like the size of it. It’ll only be her and Dan here most of the time, but this is one of the only few houses that are for sale in Oyster Bay currently.

John pats your leg and looks at you, “Let me help you out. There’s a bit of ice here.”

You wait for John to get to the passenger’s side, and he reaches for your hand to help you out, keeping it tightly gripped in his hand as you fix your coat and grab your purse. The two of you walk up the driveway hand in hand, and you hear someone on the phone when you get closer to the house.

“Honey, I’m showing two houses today. Yes, I will be home before your mother gets in town. What do you mean ‘don’t say it like that’? I just said ‘your mother’.”

You bite your cheek a little to keep yourself from laughing, and you look up to see John doing the same. You’re so lucky that your mom and John get along so well. You don’t know what you’d do if they hated each other.

“It’s two houses. 3 hours tops. It’s for…John Wick,” he says, and he widens his eyes when he sees the two of you, “Honey, I have to go. I have to go,” he shakes his head and hangs up the phone, then he reaches out to shake John’s hand, “Mr. Wick.”

“Greg,” John laughs and shakes his hand, “You can just call me John.”

He exhales and nods his head, “Okay, I just didn’t know how you wanted me to address you. How the hell you been?”

John wraps his arm around your shoulder to pull you closer, then he gestures to the door, “Mind if we talk inside? She’s freezing.”

“Oh, yeah, definitely.” Greg says, and he opens the door for you, “So, John, what have you been to, man? I haven’t seen you for about…what? Four years?”

“Yeah, it’s been about four years.” John nods, “Been a bit busy as of lately. Bought the bookshop down on 8th in Mill Neck, and also–”

Your phone goes off in your purse, and you grimace as you look up at John and reach into your purse, “My bad. Text.”

Finn just threw up everywhere right when we were about to leave. I’m just getting him cleaned up, then we’ll be on the way. Be there in 20 minutes.

“Sorry, my mom and sister should be here soon. Her son just threw up everywhere.” you say, laughing a little, “Babies, so unpredictable.”

“Don’t I know it.” Greg laughs, “Got 3 kids myself. Two boys and one girl. Loves of my life, wouldn’t trade them for the world, but damn, it’s hard to get anywhere on time anymore.”

“I bet.” John laughs, leaning against the counter. “I think the last time I saw you, you only had one kid.”

“Just had the twins. A boy and a girl.” he says, and he grabs his phone out of his pocket to show John their pictures, and you lean against John’s shoulder to see. “Oliver and Alexis. They’ll be a year old this spring. And of course we have Felix, he’s 7.”

You smile as you look up at him, “They’re very cute kids.”

“Thank you.” he reaches for your hand and shakes it, “I’m Greg. I helped John find his house, then I helped him find the blueprints to rebuild it.”

“Well, thank you for that. I love my home.” you laugh, looking up at John for a moment, “I’m Y/N, his wife.”

“John Wick got remarried?” he laughs and looks at John, “I thought I had heard something, but I couldn’t believe it without seeing it; I see it now. Wow, she’s a looker, John. Congratulations.”

John smiles and puts his arm around your shoulder, “Thank you.”

It hurts your feelings a little that some people don’t ever believe it that John got remarried. It makes you so sad that so many people just wanted John to cry over Helen for the rest of his life and never be happy again. Hell, even John wanted to do that until he saw you one day.

“Um, is there a bathroom in here that I could use?” you ask, timidly.

Greg nods his head and walks into the dining room, then he points, “Down there at the very end of the hall.”

“Thank you.” you smile and head down the hallway to have a moment to yourself.

You can’t tell if you want to throw up or not, so you just lean back against the sink to catch your breath. After calming yourself down for a few moments, you open your eyes and look around at the bathroom. It’s nothing spectacular, but it’s pretty cute. There’s a bathtub in front of you, and a walk in shower next to it. There’s a nice little linen closet, and you peek inside to check it out.

“Mouse…” John knocks on the door and slowly opens it, “Are you alright? Did you throw up again?”

You open the door further and shake your head, “No, I’m fine. This is a cute little bathroom.”

“This is just one. There’s eight bathrooms in here.” he says, reaching for your hand. “Greg said we can look around. He had to make a phone call.”

You walk into the living room and look around, “This is way too big. She’s gonna hate it.”

“I thought so. I think she’ll like the next house the best.” John says, wrapping his arms around your waist, “Do you like this house?”

“Seems…big. Open. Uh, empty.” you look around and shrug, “Creepy.”

John laughs and lets go of you, “That’s because no one lives here.”

“No, it’s creepy! Don’t lie. I feel like I’m going to turn the corner and see a creepy little kid with no eyes staring at me.”

“Well, how could he stare at you if he has no eyes?” John teases, walking backwards out of the living room.

You roll your eyes and laugh as he pulls you into his arms, and he leans down to kiss you repeatedly. He dips you as you laugh against his lips, then he blows a raspberry on your cheek before he stands back up straight with you in his arms. He gently cups your face and presses a soft kiss to your lips, and you smile at him.

“My god, look at you today.” John whispers, and you furrow your brow as you laugh, “You’re just so fucking beautiful.”

You jokingly gag as you roll your eyes, “You’re so gross, Wick.”

“Telling my wife she’s beautiful is now considered gross in your eyes,” John says, cocking up his eyebrow, “Oh, no, I’m not falling for that.”

You laugh as you wrap your arms around John’s neck, “I think it’s pretty sweet, to be honest. I love hearing you say corny stuff.”

“Hey, I’m sorry about Greg. I don’t really know him, he just helped me find the house years ago.” he says as he takes your hands, “Then I tracked him down again to help me get the blueprints so I could have it rebuilt.”

“It’s okay.” you say quietly, looking down at your hands in John’s. “Just makes me sad that so many people just wanted you to be…sad for the rest of your life.”

“I know.” John nods, then he leans closer to whisper, “I was one of them until I met you.”

Tess and your mom walk into the house and you let go of John’s hands, but he grabs you and wraps his arms around your shoulders as the two of you walk out to meet them. Finn is bundled up in a puffy jacket, and it’s nearly making you melt when you see him struggling to move around.

“Fuck, it’s hot in here.” Tess says, and your mom scolds her for her language, “What? He’s 5 months old. He doesn’t know what I’m saying.”

She sets Finn on the floor and he tries to crawl over to you, but his arms are stuck out to the side from his coat. You kneel down in front of him and pull his coat off, then you toss it to Tess as you stand back up with Finn in your arms.

“Hi, Finny James.” you smile, and he begins to wiggle around in your arms as he smiles, “Aren’t you so handsome today? Look at these overalls. I’m dying.”

John kneels down in front of you and smiles at Finn, “Hey, buddy.”

Finn loves John, and he’s always so bashful when John smiles and plays with him. Finn hides his face in the crook of your neck, then he giggles loudly when John begins to tickle his belly. He’s wiggling around in your arms and it’s hard to keep a good hold on him, so you hand him off to John, who is more than happy to take him.  

Greg comes back in to show you around the house, and you all follow behind him to look at the house. He shows you the kitchen, which you’re standing in, then he moves to the living room and points out the features in there. A bay window and a fireplace.  

You begin to feel a little nauseous again, so you fall behind the rest just in case you need to run to a bathroom and vomit. Tess looks over her shoulder and begins to walk backwards until she’s next to you.

“I think you’re…” she peeks around the corner, then leans closer to your face, “I think you’re pregnant.”

“I think you’re wrong.” you laugh and put your hand on your stomach. “That’s a mighty big assumption.”

Tess raises an eyebrow and clicks her tongue, “Okay, well, don’t believe me then. But I’m right!”

You hear footsteps coming towards you, but they stop, and you and Tess look at each other in confusion. You start to peek around the corner when you see Finn, and he sees Tess and giggles loudly as John holds him up to peek around the corner again. Tess laughs and presses a kiss to Finn’s cheek, then she moves past him to find your mom.

“You’re going to be such a fun dad.” you laugh and wrap your arms around John’s waist.

John scoffs and bounces Finn in his arms, “He’s a fun baby. He’s so wiggly and giggly.”

You pucker your lips for a kiss from John, but Finn leans over with his mouth open to kiss you. You cup his little face in your hands and pretend to bite his little cheeks as he giggles loudly.

John bounces him in his arms and looks at him, “You tryin’ to steal my girl?”

Finn leans over for you to hold him, and you laugh loudly as you take him from John, “Sorry, John, Finn is the only man who has my heart.”

Everyone joins up again in the living room and you sit down on the couch next to John and place Finn on your legs as he bounces up and down in your lap. Greg hands your mom and John several papers, and he sits down to tell you more about the house.

“So, there are 5 bedrooms. 6 bathrooms – full bathrooms. Two half baths. There’s a fireplace. A private pool, a guest house is on the property in the back, and…what else am I missing?” Greg looks over the papers, tapping his pen against his head.

Your mom looks up at you and shakes her head. She hates it.

“Mom, what are you thoughts?”

“The furnaces in the rooms…” she says, and you all look at her. “That’s a no for me. I don’t like that. They get too hot in the winter and you can easily burn yourself on them, and I want one of the bedrooms to be for kids, so I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“We could have someone come in and take those out.” John suggests.

Your mom nods, “We could, but it’s a hassle. Also I don’t need a guest house. I certainly don’t need 6 bedrooms and 5 bathrooms.”

“5 bedrooms, 6 bathrooms.” Tess corrects, and she reaches out to take Finn from you.

“Well, regardless, I don’t need that. I don’t need a private pool, or that silly game room.”

You laugh quietly and look over at John, “Told you she’d hate it.”

John nods and laughs, “That you did. Mom, there’s another house that I actually really think you’ll like. Would you like to look at that? It’s smaller than this.”

Greg shuffles through his papers and nods, “The house on Summers Street? Lovely house.”

Your mom nods her head and smiles, “I’d love to look at it.”

The acid in your stomach is slowly rising in your throat, and you press your hand to your stomach as you get up and head for the bathroom. You lock yourself in the bathroom and quickly lean over the toilet as you vomit. You’re out of breath and tired, and you’re starting to think that maybe John should just bring you home so you can rest.

“No, you can get through this. It’s one more house. You can do this.” you say and get off to the floor. You flush the toilet and cup your hands under the faucet to drink the water from your palms, then you check to make sure you didn’t leave any vomit behind on the toilet before you leave. You walk back into the living room to find everyone staring at you, and you widen your eyes, “What?”

Your mom furrows her brow, “Were you throwing up?”

“No.”

She tilts her head and laughs, “We could hear you.”

You grab your jacket and put it on, “So, we goin’ to look at that other house, or what?”

John gets off the couch to pull on his coat, then he presses his cheek against your head, “Do you need me to take you home?”

You tilt your head back and smile, “No, I’m good.”

“Are you sure? We don’t want you throwing up all over this next house.” he says, laughing a little, but the concern is visible on his face.

“No, baby, I’m fine.” you smile, closing your eyes when John presses a kiss to your head.

Your mom puts her hand on your cheek and sighs, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just feel a little sick today.” you say, then you quickly come up with a lie, “An employee came in sick the other day, so I think I caught it.”

From the corner of your eye, you see Tess cock up an eyebrow as she pulls out Finn’s stocking cap and zips his coat, and your mom grabs your head and presses your forehead against her cheek, then she shakes her head.

“You don’t have a fever. Are you sure it’s the flu? Maybe food poisoning?”

You shrug, “Could be anything. Who knows?”

John takes Tess’ keys from her to start her car and warm it up, and your mom walks outside with him and Greg. Tess is smiling to herself as she makes sure Finn is bundled up, and you roll your eyes when she looks at you.

“Shut up.” you laugh, looking at Tess.

“I didn’t even say anything!” she says, hoisting Finn up her in arms as she walks to the door, “You’re gonna be a momma, because you are definitely pregnant.”

You sigh as you look at her, “I don’t want to get my hopes up. Every time I do, I take a test and it’s negative. I’m not allowing myself to get excited about this.”

Walking back outside, you see John sitting in the car waiting for you, and you try to contain yourself. You don’t even know if you’re pregnant anyway, but it’s pretty exciting to think about, and it’s hard to not think about it.

“Hey.” John says as you open the car door, “You good? No more throwing up, I hope.”

“Nope.” you smile and look at him, “Just talking to Tess.”

John puts the car in drive and heads down the road, “I think your mom will really like this next house. It’s a little smaller than this and less bedrooms.”

“No ‘silly’ game room?”

He laughs and shakes his head, “No silly game room.”

__

John pulls up in front of the next house, and you smile to yourself when you see it. You won’t say it out loud yet since you don’t want to sway your mom’s opinion, but it’s perfect for her. You’d love to live here if you didn’t love your home so much.

There’s several medium sized trees in the front yard and bushes along the porch, and there will be plenty of room for your mom to garden. Even though it’s winter, the lawn is beautifully landscaped, you can tell even through the snow. You can already picture your mom outside with the kids on nice spring days.

The house is a pale yellow with white trim, and there’s a driveway all along the left side of the house that leads to a nice garage. The wrap around porch is a nice touch, but the swing on it is even better.

Greg is already inside, waving you all in, so you quickly get out to head inside as you hold tight to John’s hand.

“Oh, mom, this is much more your style.” you say, looking around the entryway.

Greg starts walking backwards to point out all of the features, “So, we have a nice entryway here, and to my left, as you can see, is the stairs that lead upstairs, which we will get to shortly. If you keep following me, I’ll show you the kitchen.”

The cupboards are all nice and there’s an island in the middle of the floor. The counter tops are all granite, and you point at the oven and widen your eyes at your mom when you see it’s a double oven – something she’s always wanted.

The dining room is nice and big, perfect for holidays and family dinners. The living room is connected to the dining room and kitchen, and there are large windows around to give the room lots of natural lighting.

“I love that the dining room, living room, and kitchen are all connected.” your mom says with a smile on her face, “I love that I could be in here making cookies or something, and the kids could be playing in the living room. I could always keep an eye on them.”

Greg points at the fireplace in the corner and smiles, “Fireplace as well.”

“Love it.” Tess says, then she points the hanging globes from the ceiling, “I love these lights too.”

You all follow behind Greg upstairs, and you look over your shoulder as John grabs your ass. He smiles as you lean back to kiss him, then he tickles your sides as you giggle.

“Hey,” Tess calls out and points to an empty room, “This would be great for kids.”

John immediately moves around you and looks at the room, nodding his head as he inspects it, “It would be great. Get some cribs in here, nice toy box over here.”

You glare at Tess when John turns his back to you, and she smiles proudly as she walks in the room to continue talking with John.

__

“Well,” your mom sits down on your couch and nods her head, “I really loved that house.”

“I did too.” you nod and look up when John comes out of the kitchen with two mugs of hot chocolate, then he leaves again to grab his own. “I really loved the open basement. Personally I would put some carpet down there.”

She nods and takes a sip of her drink, “I agree.”

“The kitchen is perfect for you, too. It was beautiful, and of course, the double oven. You’ve wanted one forever! And after having one for the past year, I can tell you that it’s a godsend. It’s perfect for when John and I are both making stuff, like if John is making dinner and I’m making dessert.”

John joins the two of you again and sits down in the chair across from you, “The yard will be beautiful in the spring and summer. The backyard is nice, plenty of room for you to garden.”

“You two are really trying to sell me on this, aren’t you?”

You and John both laugh, and you look over at her and smile, “Mom, I want you to move here, and I don’t want you to think I’m trying to…guilt you into picking a house you don’t like. I want you to love whatever house you pick. It’s ultimately up to you.”

“I get that, but honey, how am I going to afford this? I was going to buy a house with the money that I got from the house after I sold it.”

You reach for her hand and smile, “We’ll figure it out.”

“Sleep on it for the week, mom.” John says, smiling at her, “Don’t worry about it. We have Christmas in two days.”

“Yes, I’m going with Jonathan and James tomorrow to get presents for you and Tess.” she says and takes a sip of her hot chocolate, “And helping them get gifts for you two!”

You look over at the Christmas tree and laugh when you see it bulging with presents. Some of them are from you to Tess and Jimmy, but most of them are for you and John.

You laugh and look at John, “Yeah, I’m sure John has no idea what to get me.”

“We agreed to stay under a budget, but that didn’t work. I immediately went over.” John laughs and gets up to plug in the Christmas lights. “But she’s worth it, and she deserves all of these gifts.”

The whole living room lights up with Christmas lights, and you hear your mom gasp quietly when she looks at the tree.

“That reminds me!” she reaches into her purse and pulls out a small object wrapped in tissue paper, “I got this for you two and forgot to give it to you!”

You take it from your mom, and John kneels down next to you as you pull the tissue off of it. It’s a Christmas ornament in the shape of a heart and in the middle has some little crystals and you smile as you read it, “First Christmas as Mr. and Mrs.”

“That’s cute.” John laughs, and he reaches for your hand to help you off the couch. He moves an ornament from the front of the tree and smiles at you as you hang the new ornament in its place. He places his hand on your lower back, near your ass and he pats it lightly, despite your mom being right there, “Front and center. Perfect.”

“He’s so proud to be married to you, baby.” your mom laughs, and you look over your shoulder at her. “I still can’t get over that.”

You look back at John and cup his cheeks as you lean up to kiss him quickly, “Oh, I got to open one of my gifts a little early the other day! Let me go grab it!”

Heading upstairs, you look over to your left and watch as your mom and John talk, and you smile to yourself when she pats his cheek and gestures to the tree, probably telling him how wonderful it looks, which John will then say was your doing. You head into the baby’s room to get Charlotte’s Web off the nightstand John brought into here the other day, then you carefully take the picture off the wall.

“Yeah, she started decorating the day after Thanksgiving. She was super excited,” John says, looking over his shoulder at you. “I think the house looks great.”

“When was the last time you had a Christmas with someone?” your mom asks, and you sit down next to John and look over at him as you grow curious. “When your wife was alive?”

John inhales deeply and nods, “Yeah, I didn’t get one last Christmas with Helen though. She passed a few months prior to Christmas. So, my last Christmas before I met this one was much different.”

Your mom frowns, shaking her head, “Just so sad how much you’ve been through, Jonathan. You’re a very brave man.”

“Thanks,” John laughs, and you press a kiss to the back of his hand.

You hold John’s gaze as he looks over at you, and you nod your head a little. There’s a lot unsaid but you know what John went through after Helen passed, and you know it wasn’t just a simple quiet Christmas that he had.

“But I got her now, and Christmas is quickly becoming my favorite holiday.” John says, patting your thigh as you smile. “I have a whole family that I get to enjoy Christmas with – don’t tell Tess I said that.”

You laugh loudly as you look back at your mom, “He let me open a present the other day, so…”

Handing the book over to your mom, you watch as she runs her finger down the spine of the book, and she opens it and smiles as she nods. John gives you a wink when you glance over at him, then he smiles at your mom.

“This is beautiful,” she whispers, looking up at you, “Is it your original book?”

“It is,” you nod as you hold tight to John’s hand, “I had asked him to bind it months ago, then I completely forgot about it.”

You watch your mom as she opens to the front page, and she frowns when she sees the note she wrote to you is now replaced by John’s stamp. You hold up the picture frame and hand it over to her, and she immediately starts to cry when she sees it.

“You kept it?”

You laugh, “Of course!”

“This is so sweet.” she whispers and holds it up.

John squeezes your hand a little and smiles, “We have it hung up in the baby’s room. First thing we’ve hung up in there.”

Your mom puts her hand over her face as she continues to sniffle, then she takes a deep breath and laughs, “I need to get out of here, you two are making me cry! I’m having dinner with James’ parents in a little bit, I can’t be crying all night.”

“That sounds like fun.” you say and get up from the couch to walk your mom to the door.

John whistles for Bleu, then he grabs his leash off the table when he runs over to him, “I’ll walk mom across the street, then I’ll just take him around the block.”

“Oh, okay.” you lean over to hug your mom, then you hug John, kissing him quickly, “I’ll be here when you get back. I’ll get dinner started right now.”

“Love you.” your mom and John both say at the same time, and you immediately put your hand over your heart.

“I love you both.”

__

You’ve been trying to find something that John thinks is scary, and so far, you haven’t found it. You’ve tried slasher films, zombie movies, movies about realistic pandemics, but he doesn’t even flinch. At this point, you’re convinced John isn’t afraid of anything. Until you mentioned a certain movie about a clown – John said he wasn’t in the mood for that tonight.

You and John are sitting on the couch, devouring your pasta and neither of you have spoken in almost 30 minutes because you’ve had your mouths full of food, also because you’re so absorbed in the TV show you’re watching, The Haunting of Hill House. Funny how he said he wasn’t in the mood for something scary. John is definitely afraid of clowns.

The screen goes black, and John turns to you and widens his eyes, “Holy shit.”

“That’s my favorite episode.”

John lifts up his arm and sticks it out, “I have goosebumps.”

You laugh and wipe away the tear falling down your cheek, “It makes me cry every time. She was just watching them at her funeral. It’s so sad that she’s there, but they can’t even see her.”

John sets his plate on the table and pauses the TV so it won’t go to the next episode, “I still can’t believe she was the Bent-neck Lady. I didn’t see that coming.”

“I know! You grabbed my leg so fucking hard.” you laugh and lean over to press a kiss to John’s cheek.

John looks over at you and smiles, “How is your stomach?”

“Better.” you place your bowl on the table and look at John, “One more episode?”

“Up to you.”

You scoot down on the couch to lay down a little, and you shrug, “I don’t know. It’s almost 9. I got distracted and didn’t make dinner on time. I saw that one of your presents was delivered while we were gone earlier, so I had to wrap it before you got home.”

“Another present?” John looks over at the tree and smiles when he sees Bleu laying next to it, “We might have went a little overboard this year.”

“Well, last year at this time, we had only been together for like…four months. It was still fairly early on and you don’t really know what to get your boyfriend. I got you a tie.” you laugh and look at John as he holds up his left arm to show you his watch, “Oh, and your watch.”

John smiles and leans over to look at your necklace, but he frowns a little when he sees you’re not wearing it, “You’re not wearing the necklace I got you for Christmas?”

Moving your hair away from your neck, you hold up your necklace, “No, I’m wearing the locket.”

“Oh, well, that is the better of the two.”

You shake your head and laugh, “I love them both equally.”

“Do you wanna take a bath?”

“That does sound nice. Especially after the puke filled day that I had.” you nod and get up from the couch, grabbing your bowl and John’s plate as you head for the kitchen.

John helps you clean up the kitchen so you’re done in only a matter of minutes, then he heads to the front door to make sure it’s locked. The air in the bedroom is a little cold, so you fix your blankets for when you’re out of the tub it’ll be easier to get under them without being too cold.

John follows behind you into the bathroom and sits on the edge of the tub as he pulls off his socks. He watches you closely while you turn the water on, and he smiles when you look up at him. You’re starting to wonder if John suspects anything, he’s been eyeing you all day.

No harm in asking.

You look up at John and smile, “What’s on your mind?”

“Do you think mom liked that house?”

You nod as you pour some soap into the tub, “Yeah, I think she did. She’s going to stress out about it for the next week, I’m sure.”

“Did that pasta help with your stomach ache?”

You nod your head and look at him again, “It did.”

“Okay, good. Sorry, I know I asked already, I just hate the idea of you being sick during the holidays.” he says, standing up to take off his shirt. He turns around to throw it in the laundry basket near the door, then he laughs loudly when you wrap your arms around his waist and kiss his back.

“I love your back.” you say, then you begin to kiss all of his scars, giving the big one in the center a little extra love, “I love all your tattoos.”

John laughs, “Still want to get a tattoo with me?”

“Yes! Well, I mean, I have a tattoo for you already, but I do want to get another.”

He looks over his shoulder a little and smiles, “I thought of an idea for me.”

You look up at John, your eyes wide in curiosity, “Really?”

“Yeah,” he nods, turning around to look at you, “I thought our anniversary in Roman numerals would be cool. I’d get them on my ring finger, I think. I’d still wear my wedding ring every day, but…”

“Baby, that’s so romantic.” you hug John a little tighter, and he laughs again.

“Not too tight, baby. Nearly crushed my ribs.” he teases, nudging your chin a little bit.

You laugh as you pull your shirt over your head, then you unhook your bra and toss it into the laundry basket. You flinch a little when you feel John’s finger brushing over your skin, and you smile when you see him looking at your ‘J’ tattoo.

“Still so cool that you got that for me.”

“Yeah, now I’m just waiting on you to get one for me!”

John wraps his arms around your waist and playfully spanks you, “Soon, I promise.”

You smile at John as you look at him, then you hold his hand as you step into the bathtub. He steps in behind you and sits down, then he places his hands on your waist and pulls you down to sit with him.

You lean back against him and wrap his arms around you, feeling the warmth from them soak into your skin. Closing your eyes, you lay your head against John’s chest and smile to yourself, “I’m so content right now.”

“In life or just in this moment?”

You open your eyes, tilting your head back, “Both. I know we want a baby, so me not being pregnant is a bummer.”

You could literally be pregnant right now, and you would know if you would just take a test already!

John shrugs, “Yeah…”

“But I’m really, really happy. Like, really happy.”

“We’ll get pregnant soon. It’s only been a few months.” John says, and you try to contain yourself when his hands move to your stomach, “I can’t wait to see you with a belly. You’re going to be so cute.”

You laugh and place your hands on top of John’s, “We’ll have to do those cute little bump update pictures where you can see how big my belly gets every month.”

“Yes!” John leans his head against yours and laughs, “Yeah, I love those. Tess and Jimmy did that funny photoshoot, that was pretty cute though.”

“Are you excited to spend the day with my mom and Jimmy tomorrow?”

John lets out a small laugh and you feel him nodding his head, “Yeah, actually I am. She wants to go and get you and Tess a few things, then she said she’d help us get some stuff for you and Tess.”

“Please don’t buy me any more presents. There’s like, 50 under the tree already. I went way overboard, but I’m actually pretty pleased with myself. I got you some pretty good stuff this year. Over this past year, you’ve mentioned stuff in passing and I don’t think you ever mention it to hint at anything, but I’d stored it all away in my memory. Plus I’m still making up for your birthday this year.”

John kisses your cheek and smiles as you tilt your head back, “No, my roller rink date was good. And marrying you has still been the best birthday gift I’ve ever gotten.”

You take a deep breath and when you let it out, you realize John still has his hand on your stomach. You intertwine your fingers with his and tilt your head back, closing your eyes when he kisses your forehead.

The two of you stay in the water long enough for it to turn cold, and you shiver as you get out and feel the rush of cold air clinging to your wet skin. You grab your robe from the hook on the wall and pull it around yourself, then you hand John a large towel so he can wrap it around his waist. Together at the sink, you both brush your teeth and you smile at John when he winks at you.

John bends over to spit in the sink, then he reaches for a towel to wipe away the toothpaste on his chin. He watches you attentively as you wash your face, scrubbing away the makeup and the awful vomit filled day. He takes a towel from the linen closet, and he dabs away the water on your face, then he presses a kiss to your cheek.

You playfully spank John as he walks in front of you, and he laughs as he walks into the bedroom and shuffles through his drawer for a clean pair of boxers. Your hamper is overflowing with clothes, and you have no clean pajamas in your drawer, so you toss your robe aside and crawl into bed naked.

“I’ll do laundry tomorrow when you’re gone.” you say, and you look up at John as he tosses you a t-shirt.

“I know you love to sleep naked, but if you’re getting sick, you need to wear something.” he says, pulling on his boxers. He starts to smile when you frown dramatically, then he lets out a loud laugh, “Baby, I’m doing this for you.”

You pull the shirt over your head and hold John’s gaze as he gets in bed with you, “There.”

“Oh, well, thank you. I know that must have been very hard for you to do.” he laughs, scooting closer to you. “We need to talk…”

You groan and look at John, “I don’t want to talk, I want your face between my legs.”

“Oh, you do?” A smug smile spreads across John’s face, and he licks his lips as he looks at you nodding your head, “And it will be, but we need to talk about something else first.”

“Can’t you multitask?”

John laughs loudly and tackles you back on the bed, “You little shit!”

You giggle as John tickles your stomach, then you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, “I’m just kidding!”

John takes a deep breath and sits up a little to rest against the headboard, “If your mom does end up deciding she likes that house and she wants to move in, I want to buy it for her. I want us to buy it for her. I know she wants to sell the house and use that money, but she won’t get that house sold until probably the spring.”

You sit up and turn around to face John, “Baby, I saw the price of that house. There’s no way I can allow you to do that.”

“You can’t stop me.” John says, teasing you.

You roll your eyes and sigh, “John, I’ve been with you for over a year now, and I’ve come to realize that money is…nothing to you, which is nice, don’t get me wrong. It’s nice because it’s one thing that will never cause stress in our marriage, and I am…so grateful for that.”

“But…”

“But…” you shake your head, “I can’t let you buy a two million dollar home for my mom.”

John laughs, “It’s not two. It’s one…and half.”

Giving John a blank stare, you let out a very loud sigh to let him know how annoyed you’re getting, but it only makes him laugh. He knows he’s going to win this argument.

“John, I’m…I…” you pinch the bridge of your nose and shake your head, “I’m sick to my stomach thinking about this. My mom is going to fucking faint when she finds out.”

“You don’t need to be.”

“Jonathan, we didn’t grow up in a fancy home. We had a shitty house that was falling apart half the time. Dan tried to help fix some stuff, but…he’s…well, he’s Dan.” you say, and John laughs quietly. “I just don’t want my mom to feel like she has some obligation to us now, and I don’t…I don’t want this to be thrown in my face if you and I ever–”

“Stop.” John shakes his head, “Don’t finish that sentence, Mrs. Wick. First of all, your mom will have no obligation to us, and I don’t expect her to pay us back for this. I want to do this. I would…”

John takes a long pause, and you reach out for his hand when he tilts his head back and closes his eyes. You’re not entirely sure what’s going through his head, but you have a pretty good idea.

“It’s okay.” you whisper, scooting closer to him.

“I would do this for my mom…if I had one.” John says, and he smiles a little, “And…I do have one now.”

“Oh, god.” you tear up and cover your mouth with your hand as you cry.

“I want to do this for her. I want her here for Finn, I want her here for our baby.” he says, and he touches your stomach. “This isn’t just for Tess though, or just for your mom. This is for you. I know you want your mom here.”

You nod your head as you wipe away the tears in your eyes, “Okay, you’re making a good point.”

“And I would never throw something like that in your face, by the way. I’m not even going to finish that last part of your sentence, because that isn’t going to happen.” John reaches for your hand and points at your ring, “I say it all the time, but I’m in it for the long haul, baby. You and me.”

“You and me.” you nod your head and scoot over so John can hold you. You tilt your head up and look at John with tears in your eyes, “You amaze me, Jonathan.”

John smirks as he kisses you, then he crawls between your legs, “Wanna see how amazing I am?”

“Oh, yeah. Almost forgot.” you smile as John pulls the blanket from off of you, then you lay back and smile as John kisses your thighs, “Oh, and take your time.”

“Yes, ma’am.” John laughs, then he buries his face between your legs as you smile.

__

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[chimtaesty]

broken souls (pjm!hybrid au)

plot :Helping hybrids is your passion, as a local hybrid center calls you for help because of a abused and broken panther hybrid you pack your stuff and hurry to put him back together.

warnings: death, abuse | 4.9k words

a/n: hi there, it’s been a while huh? I’m finally back and better than ever. I released two stories lately which seemed like a fever dream so i won’t continue them but i hope you are ready to keep supporting my stuff :) I hope you like this story since i spent a lot of time and thoughts on it :)

masterlist

“Hello? Who is this?”

“Am i talking to Y/N?”

“Yes you are, who is this?” 

“Oh, i’m sorry for not introducing myself, my name is Helen Wallis and I'm the Head of the Hybrid Rehabilitation Center Crystal Snow. I’m calling because we take care of a very delicate case at the moment, the issue is that we don’t know how to take further care of this poor soul and I heard that you are an amazing psychologist student who even helped the Seong-girl out of her cruel thoughts. If you could maybe take your time to take a look at this broken boy we would all be really thankful.”

To be honest, this girl didn’t take a lot of work. She was spoiled and upset because a boy in her school rejected her. The only reason this became a big thing was because the parents are influential people. But you would love to help someone who needed your help so you didn’t have another choice.

“I would gladly take a look at him, if you could send me his file.”

“Oh yes, of course. Thank you a lot Y/N, your help means a lot”

You’ve looked at the same three sheets of paper for the last two hours and you can’t believe what’s printed on it. The sentences make you angry and give you the feeling of having to throw up. He was raised on a local farm which turned out to be an underground fighting ring. He had to take drugs. He was raped and had to watch his mum getting killed, the only person on this planet who he loved. He has lost someone just like you, you may be able to connect with him faster than with Seong Hye-Jin.

The speed of your heart beating decreases as you pack the papers back into your bag. The bus rumbles and your stop arrives faster as you expected it to. The building looks nice, it has  a big blue sign on top that says “Crystal Snow Rehabilitation Center”. It’s a short walk across the street to the entrance. As you walk towards the front desk a chubbier in white dressed older lady walks towards you. “You must be Y/N, it’s so nice to meet you. I called you earlier this week” you nod and shake her hand. “Yes, I tried to prepare myself as well as possible, but i’m not sure if he is going to welcome my help. I would say we just give it a try.”

The walk to Jimin’s room is long, there are a lot of doors, hallways and two elevators involved. Before Helen opens the door she turns around and clasps your hands in hers. “I need you to be careful. I couldn’t forgive myself if he hurt you. If something goes south please shout immediately, security is right outside this door. God may bless you” she whispers the last sentence as she turns the key and the door opens. You smile at Helen and take a step in. You never thought much about god or christianity, it’s all a hoax. Where was god when you needed him? 

“Please leave the door open until I say otherwise” you whisper towards Helen and she nods. As you take a look inside the tiny room you are reminded of your bedroom at your parents house. It was tiny but cozy, Jimin might feel the same.

There he is, laying on his bed facing the window. “Hi there, Jimin. My name is Y/N, I would like to talk to you. Is that fine with you?” He doesn’t say anything nor does he move. He’s not ignoring you though, he’s listening very well. “Should i leave the door open?” you ask silently and he doesn’t answer, he turns around to look at you. A thing catches your attention immediately, the big scar across his left eye.

He nods and you nod back not saying anything. “Can i sit myself down over there or should I stay here?” you ask again to tear his attention from the open door, this is no time to do something dumb. “Stay” he whispers and you comply, he wants to keep you at a distance. The spot you’re standing at is a great place to oversee everything you do. “Alright, i’ll just sit down right here” you smile, he doesn’t reply.

As you sit there on the floor he grows more comfortable. The door is open and there is no one who pushes him to speak. You lowered yourself to the ground where he is able to look down on you. “So, Jimin. We both know why I’m here. To be quite honest, these people here don’t really care about you. It sounds harsh but that’s the truth. The only thing they are interested in is rehabilitating you and getting you out of here. They want you to move on and live normally but let’s be real for a second, that’s impossible.” His head snaps upwards to look at you.

“Everyone tells you how great life is and how badly you need to move on. The problem is that after all life ever gave you, it’s hard for you to understand that optimism. Life is shit, isn’t it?” you chuckle and he nods. “I didn’t expect you to say that” his raspy voice fills the room.

You chuckle “What? That life’s shit? Well, it’s the truth.” he nods and suddenly his ears move from being stuck flat on his head to standing upwards, ready to listen to you. “You know, Jimin. I understand you. Life hasn’t been kind to me either. I might’ve not lived through something as terrific as you but it comes close. Do you want to hear it?” he nods but still keeps his head low. You know that sharing hurtful experiences can help you connect to each other. You knew almost everything about him. You know what those horrible people did to him and how he became who he is now but he knows nothing about you. He doesn’t know why you are willing to sit on his floor or why the hell the door was kept open

“I had to kill my father” That catches his attention. His eyebrows furrow as he stares at you.

“Two men broke into our house one night when I was thirteen. I didn’t know what was happening, I mean it was around three am and i was sleeping. My brother was dead when I arrived in the living room, they had almost decapitated him. My parents were restrained and sat up on our couch.” 

I have to breathe for a moment before I can continue. Right in that moment he locked his gaze with me for the first time. We share a quick glance.

“My mum was raped before they slit her throat and I couldn't do anything.I had to stab my dad 28 times. The only thing I remember was them telling me that everything’s my fault. I don’t know what I did nor do I know why my parents had to pay for it. But I moved on. I didn’t forget, not that I ever could forget this massacre but, I try to survive. Nothing can ever bring them back and I know that. I will never see them again and it hurts everytime i close my eyes because I see their lives leaving their bodies when I do but I try to move on. I try to live ” 

I wipe my tears and look at the floor as all the pictures come back. The blood, the bones being cracked and the lives being taken-”I’m sorry you had to go through that” he whispers and a small sniff leaves your body. “Thank you, Jimin.” you whisper back and for a moment there’s just silence. It’s comforting and scary at the same time. It’s almost as if he accepts you now, as if he knows what you feel.

“Do i have to tell you?” you shake your head with a small smile. You wouldn’t mind but every time you have to talk about it you literally relive what happened. You don’t want him to feel what you do now  “No, you don’t have to if you don’t want to” he nods and sighs, a big weight visually leaving his shoulders. “You can sit on the chair, the floor must be cold” you almost laugh. “I’ll gladly. Thank you, Jimin.” You sit down in front of him and he moves back slightly.

“Jimin” you whisper and his head snaps towards you “Yes?” he whispers back. His eyes softly gaze at yours “I need you to know that you’re not alone. What you had to go through is in no way forgettable and I know that you regret many things but you’re not alone. ” he just stares at you until his eyebrows furrow and his chest starts to move faster and faster. You triggered something, something bad.

“You’re lying” he whispers and his nostrils flare and his eyes stare at the floor. “You’re lying like everyone else.” He almost growls at you as you try to deny what he said. “I’m not, Jimin, listen to me!” you plead and you notice the shift. In front of you is no longer the quiet and understanding person he was two minutes ago . He shifted to what those people made him, a broken, hurt and traumatized boy who’s life is a living hell.

Now that they got him out of there he’s held captive in his mind. The horror he had to experience every day is now tormenting him inside his own head and no one seems to understand that.  His eyes grow dark and his body builds itself up and he flashes his teeth in a threatening way. He closes himself off. He’s gone, the soft understanding boy you were just talking to was somewhere crying in a corner of his mind scared of getting attached and being thrown away like garbage.

In a matter of seconds his hands find their way around your throat. He tightens his grip and you find it hard to breathe. Your pleads come out strangled as he lets out a low grunt. This situation reminds you of the night you killed your father. The men strangled you as well while you watched your mum being raped, the only difference here is that Jimin isn’t doing it out of pleasure, he’s terrified to the point where he’s alright with taking another person's life.

The two security men find their way into the room as your legs give in and you two fall to the floor, Jimin didn’t let go though. Your last attempt of staying alive needs to work so you clasp his face in between your hands. You stroke his cheek and give him a small smile. “It’s alright” His eyebrow twitches slightly and in a matter of seconds his grip around your throat loosens and your vision finds its way back to you. You cough violently after you push him behind yourself.

“Miss, please move. We need to move this farrell animal, he’s a threat” you shake your head as you move closer to Jimin “He’s not- cough -that’s why I-cough-I’m here. Pl-cough-Please move outside, thank you-cough.” They share a worried look but do as told and move to their spots outside. Your head hangs low as you try to steady your breathing.

Behind you, you can hear silent but repetitive sorry’s.

You turn around slightly, just to look at him. He now understood what he had done. You can’t blame him for what he did, he was terrified as you somehow triggered something in his brain with your reassurance. “Jimin” you breathe out and his rant of sorry’s stop. “Jimin,this isn’t your fault, okay? I’m not mad at you” You turn towards him and take his hand into yours.

“Do you hear me? I’m not mad at you” he doesn’t look at you as you talk to him. The atmosphere in his room is cold and uncomfortable. His demeanor changed, he feels sorry and you know that. He almost killed you and you’re not upset. It’s something that’s hard to understand, why would someone you hurt still like you? Simple, they are either unconditionally in love with you or know how you feel. They understand the things you went through, the pain you feel, they relate.

“How?” He whispers as his emotions get ahead of him. “I almost killed you, look at your throat” he sniffs and you can’t help but touch it. It’s sore and probably bright red but you don’t really care. “It’s fine” you answer him and he shakes his head “How can that be fine? You were nothing but nice to me and I struck you to the floor to strangle you. If that is fine to you, you’re dumb”

You nod your head “Maybe I am”. You stroke the hair out of your face and get up. “I’ll be leaving now-“It was nice meeting you Y/N, I’m sorry that I hurt you and I understand that you won’t come ba-“Oh, I’m coming back” his head snapped up to look at you. “What?” You chuckled slightly “You can’t get rid of me that easily, we are friends now, Jimin.” He just gives you a star struck expression as you’re almost outside of his room. “I’ll bring you some cake next time”

-

About a week later you again stand in front of the center. You thought a lot about how you could help Jimin and to be honest, you have no idea. The only thing that somehow connects you two is the trauma. There’s nothing that really connects you, you lived a great life until that night, you always had and always will have the privilege of being a human and not a hybrid. Jimin was born on a farm like an animal, raised like one and treated like one.

In your hands you hold the cake you promised him the last time. You open the door just to be greeted with Helen. She smiles at you and welcomes you with a warm handshake “Y/N, how nice to see. Jimin has been asking for you everyday. He told me what he has done and how you treated him. I’m glad that you didn’t run away, he really needs your help” you nod and smile at her “We had a great start actually, I’m positive that I’m able to help him.” she gives you a comforting smile before she answers you “He’s outside, by the pond” you nod and take your leave to the garden.

The garden is blooming beautifully, a lot of flowers and bushes decorate the garden in a welcoming and soft way. Other hybrids roam around the garden as well. Some play together, some stay alone just like Jimin. He’s sitting on a bench in front of the pond while he stares at the water. You clear your throat as you stand right behind him and he’s fast to turn around.

His face shifts to a soft smile as he sees you. “Y/N!” he exclaims happily. He puts his legs down and makes space for you. You thankfully take the spot next to him. The air is thick between you two and you can pinpoint exactly why. He still feels sorry for what he did and you don’t really know how to approach this matter.

“I brought you the cake I promised” you throw into the silence. He doesn’t look, he doesn’t move at all. “I thought you wouldn’t come again” he says sadly. Your head snaps towards his and your eyes lock. “Why would you think that? I told you i would come back” you give back. He shakes his head and finally glances at the cake “I thought you might’ve changed your mind.” you sigh and hit his shoulder lightly. “I would never break my promise, now try the cake” you give him a fork and let him taste it.

“I didn’t bake it though, I’m terrible in the kitchen” you chuckle and he smiles “That’s fine, it’s delicious” he silently eats the cake and thanks you another two times. “How’s your throat?” he asks quietly. You unconsciously touch your throat. “It’s fine, it’s a little bit red” he nods and shoves another fork of cake into his mouth. Just then you notice a red mark on his right hand. They didn’t hit him, did they?

“Jimin, you need to be completely honest with me right now” his eyes go wide as your face grows angry. “Did they hurt you for what you did to me?” he almost chokes on his cake as you ask him that. “Did they hit you?” you ask again and he hides his hand before he tries to explain himself. “It’s not like i didn’t deserve it.” he stammers. “They are not allowed to do that, Jimin. You should’ve told me right away, I will make sure something like that never happens ever again.” he shakes his head and takes your hand into his. “It’s alright, don’t worry about it.” You give him an angry look “It is not alright, no one should treat you like that” he smiles slightly and strokes the back of your hand.

“I’m fine” and for a moment you believe him. You forget the red mark on his hand and the scar across his eye. You forget what happened to you and what happened to him. You forget the handprints around your throat. The trees and flowers disappear as well as the pond which seems to drain into oblivion. Nothing else other than the beautiful boy in front of you seems to exist. The way his dark hair almost hides his beautiful eyes which are trying to reassure you. The way his bruised hand gently strokes yours and the way this feeling makes you want to cry. It makes your walls crumble.

“Y/N?” his voice tugs you out of your thoughts. His hand wipes a tear from your face “Why are you crying?” he asks quietly. You can’t talk, it’s like someone took your ability to speak.

“It’s alright, I sometimes cry as well.” He lets go of your hand and suddenly everything comes back. Everything is there again and it’s hard to comprehend. Why did it feel nice?

“I did horrible things, you know. You shouldn’t look at me like that” your eyebrows furrow. “Like what?” he looks up at the sky “Like you love me, my mum used to look at me like that” he gives back and you can’t move. “It’s a look that says that you would give me the universe and more if you could. It’s a look which says that you would love everything about me but you won’t, you can’t. I did things that not a single living creature should do. If you knew what i did, you wouldn’t speak to me ever again. You would look at me the same way as everyone else ever did! “ he almost shouted.

You are taken aback, what is he talking about. “Well, what did you do?” he whips around and stares at you in disbelief. “Did you just completely ignore what i said?” you shake your head and smile at him “Do you think I’m like everyone else? I stabbed my dad almost thirty times, how bad can it be?” his face grows angry and he pushes the cake to the side. “One time I was in the ring I had to kill my opponent. The bloodier it was the better, so I ripped his windpipe from his throat. Another time I broke someone's neck just to get fed. Do you even know what it feels to get praised for taking someone's life?”

Without thinking you get closer, your noses almost touched as you did. “Yes, I do know what it feels like to get praised for taking someone’s life. They praised me the whole night for killing my father and later made me bury his corpse while my raped mother had to watch all of it. After i complied with them they slit her throat and left me laying in my mother’s blood while i wanted to die. The last thing they said before leaving me was “That’s what good girls do”, so don’t tell me i don’t know what it feels like. I know how people look at someone who had to survive something like this, I know it damn well.”

For a few seconds you two just stare at each other with wide and teary eyes. The mood is tense. The only thing you can hear is Jimin’s heavy breathing and you trying to not breathe at all. A tear leaves his eye and all of a sudden his lips find their way onto yours. You can’t grasp what is happening, your lips move by themselves. Your hand finds its way onto his cheek and he grabs the back of your neck caressingly. Never has a kiss felt like this, like the whole earth could explode and you wouldn’t care as long as you were kissing him.

But the thought of you two getting caught struck your mind and you stopped.

“W-why, did you stop?” his voice was a faint whisper. He knows why but he still feels the need to ask. “It felt good,” he continues. “We can’t be seen, Jimin” his face falls and he shakes his head “I don’t care” he whispers as you get up. “But i do, if they get a whiff of what just happened i won’t be allowed to meet you anymore.” you gather your stuff as he suddenly grabs your hand to stop you “I want you to adopt me” he almost shouts. You halt in your actions while your eyes widen.

“I realised that there is no person other than you who really cares about me. There’s no one who understands what I’ve been through. Not a single person can relate to what my life has been like. When I’m with you it feels like the whole universe disappears and there’s only you, you pull me out of those cruel thoughts, you take the pain away Y/N. Please adopt me” you can’t move. That’s not how you expected this whole thing to go. Of course you like him, there’s a connection and even feelings you can’t name but, it’s wrong. The way he sees it is wrong.

He sees a saviour who might rescue him from the life he used to live. To be honest, you’re ready to be that, his saviour, but is it the right thing to do, or to be?  “Why aren’t you saying anything? Am i not good enough? Do you want me to change? I can-”No, Jimin. I-I don’t really know if that is how you really feel-”Of course that is what i really feel like, i need you Y/N” he shouts.

You step back with a small yelp escaping your mouth. His eyes soften “I’m sorry, i didn’t want to yell at you” All of sudden two men rush across the garden just to push you away from him “Stop! You’re hurting her” he shouts as you harshly fall on your butt. This is his mother’s death all over. He wasn’t able to get to her and now he’s being held back while they push you around. They grab Jimin and try to get him going but he’s too focused to get to you “Y/N!” he screams and you are fast to get up “Sir, please let go”you shout, much to your displeasure he just blows you off. They push him to the floor getting him ready to be sedated. Jimin doesn’t comply, the only thing he does is shout your name.

You throw yourself to the floor to look into his eyes. His eyes are wide and his face wet from crying “Please, Y/N don’t leave me. I can’t live without you, god please.” he pleads between broken cries. “Jimin, hey, listen to me. i’m right here! I won’t leave you” he cries and cries as he slowly drifts into a deep slumber “I need you” he whispers before he’s completely knocked out.

You once again look at the man in front of you. Is it wrong to love someone you just met? You are no psychiatrist, you have nothing to lose, do you? The only thing you desire more than helping him out of the dark space he’s in, is hold him in your arms. To wipe his tears and tell him that everything will be fine.

-

You thought a lot about him and his pleading about adoption. He would fit, no doubt. You two share one soul. The apartment you live in is hybrid friendly and there’s enough space. Yesterday you got a call from the center asking you to come in and meet Jimin again since his condition has worsened. He hasn’t eaten properly for almost a week, he doesn’t speak or move from his bed and refuses to look at anyone other than you. 

You once again stand in front of the center unsure why you are here. Are you here to end something that never happened or continue something that has potential? You don’t know. But deep down you already know the answer

Helen waits for you at the front desk. She eagerly drags you along the long way to Jimin’s room. You remember the corridors and the two elevators as if you’ve walked those corridors a million times just to get to him. She doesn’t speak since she told you everything on the phone, she just escorts you to his room.

The door opens with the jingle of the keys and your heart breaks as you look inside. He’s curled up on his bed holding the fork you brought with you last week. He looks at it as if it’s a picture, telling him a story.

“Jimin” you whisper. His head moves slightly, needing to reassure what he was hearing. “Jimin, it’s me” you say once again.

He puts himself up on his feet and looks at you. His face seems thinner and his face is puffy from crying. You don’t know how someone could hurt him, how someone could force him to do things he didn’t want to or how someone could kill the one person who loved him. How someone could take everything he had, he ever was. You can’t understand it. You would give him everything. You would give your life for him if you could.

“Y/N” he breathes out. His eyes close and a small smile forms on his face. “I thought I’ll never see you again,” he says. Your body moves on its own as you walk towards him. You almost throw yourself into his arms. “I thought you left me” he chokes out.

“I’ll stay by your side as long as you need me, I told you that before. Don’t you ever think that I’ll leave you” you whispered into his chest. The comforting smell of his sweater grazes your nose. His tail wrapping around your legs in a comforting manner.

“What makes you think that I’m worth your love?” he whispers back and you can’t help but hold him tighter as your eyebrows furrow. “I’ll love you because you can’t love yourself, that’s fine with me.” Tears form in your eyes as his soften.

He sighs and strokes your back “Then please never leave me” he mumbles and you nod your head. “You won’t ever have to be alone, Park Jimin” he smiles and strokes your back as you look at him. “I’ll never leave you. I thought about it and I think it’s the best to have you by my side, I would like to adopt you” you smile. His breath stops for a moment as you finish your sentence.

His legs give in and you both rush to the floor. The dark strands of hair fall into his face and his sobs fill the room and you hug him tight. “You’ll have a home, a place where no one can hurt you. A place for you and me” he nods and you smile back at him

“I never thought that I'd ever escape this. I thought I’ll have to live like this, locked away like a mad person. Alone with my thoughts and what happened to me. But the second you came into my room I knew. I knew that all of this is going to change. That I’ll escape” you nod at him. “The moment I read about what happened to you, I knew that I would do everything I could to save you. I’ll give you the peace you deserve, I’ll love you until death does us apart, Park Jimin”

a/n: i hope you liked it, stop by at my masterlist for more works of mine.

[theskywaslookingback]

2020 is almost over and I just wanted to share some of my favorite lines from fics that I’ve worked on this year. No particular order because I’m bad about remembering when I started and finished a piece.

Jon’s flat is cold and musty. It’s obvious from the moment they step inside that it hasn’t been occupied in some time. The curtains are pulled tight over the windows, the light from the street peeking around the edges with a hazy yellow hue. Dishes have been left in the dry rack, a mug on the counter containing something that might have once been tea. It’s stifling in its bareness, empty walls and heavy bookshelves. The only point of warmth comes from two hands clasped together in desperation. - doubt, these are the ways that i love you series

Jon wants to pull him closer, let Martin crawl into the skin of him until they are not two but one and Martin never feels lonely again. - doubt, these are the ways that i love you series

“It’s just Daisy,” Jon says, “she’s not- she won’t hurt us.” The end lilts upward like a question. Light roves under his clothes, the cloth wrapped snugly around his face. All of his eyes flickering back and forth between hunter and lover. Each time they land on her it feels like a blade. It feels like a kiss. - home and safety, apocalypse now series

“Love you,” Gerry breathes, because he can. He’s too full of it to hold it inside of himself anymore. He always has been. - 3AM, visible world series

“If I step on your foot,” Martin says tightly. “I’ll step on yours back, Blackwood.” Laughter crashes out of him like a battering ram and Martin presses closer, pulls Gerry in tighter and lets himself be guided around the kitchen in clumsy circles. - Summer Air, visible world series

“You know, you could just go to a salon.” Jon says, but he’s already standing and reaching for the box. “This is cheaper.” “I know. You can tell.” “Hey--” -6PM, Saturday Night, visible world series

“Jon, no person’s desires are consistent from day to day. You’re always allowed to change your mind.” “But even I don’t always know,” Jon says thickly, “that’s-- you’ll get tired of it. Or Gerry will. And I’ll be--” “Stop that.” Martin says, but it doesn’t feel like an admonishment. Like everything about Martin it sounds kind and measured. “You are so, so hard on yourself, you know that?” Jon knows. “Yes.” “Love is not easy,” Martin says, “especially for people like us. We’ve had to work for this, all three of us, every day of our lives. I’m not going to get tired of you. I’m not going to be upset if boundaries change. I’m just going to learn the new rules, over and over, as many times as are needed.” Martin drops down to press their foreheads together and Jon feels his eyes close involuntarily. “I love you. I choose to love you, and I will continue choosing to love you every day for the rest of my life. Okay?” - Abrupt, visible world series

There is something between Gerry and Martin that Jon doesn’t understand, though not for lack of trying. He can see it now, in the tremble of Martin’s jaw and sudden sober wakefulness on Gerry’s face. He tries not to feel that familiar awkward ache in his chest that reminds him there will always be things about his partners that he doesn’t understand. - Intimacy, visible world series

“Why?” Jon asks. It sounds startled out of him, like the abrupt firing of a gun. The tape crackles in Jon’s hand, growling like an aching, hungry stomach. “I mean, why do you care?” He doesn’t sound accusatory or angry, just curious. ‘ I don’t ,’ is what Tim wants to say. It’s what he means to say. But instead his stomach swoops and the words tumble from his mouth, unwanted and unbidden but true, “You’re all I have left.” Jon’s mouth does something funny, trembling into an ‘o’. He fumbles for words, though nothing comes out but vague stammering noises. Tim snarls and grabs him by the shirt, twisting his hand in the fabric and pulling hard until Jon meets him chest to chest. “Do not do that to me ever again.” “I-I didn’t mean to--” “ Don’t. ” - litany (in which certain things are crossed out)

She’d gone out for lunch an hour ago on her own. It felt like a test, the gnawing hunger in her blood versus her will to make it be still, no one there to hold her accountable except for her own desire to be better. It was alright, fine. She’d gotten a sandwich at the cafe and impulsively ordered a salad to take back to the Institute for Sims. God knew he’d never remember to eat if she didn’t remind him. - Days Before; Unwinding, chaper one

She can feel his mouth against her neck, lips wet as he tries to speak. She holds him tighter, feels his fingers dig into the fabric of her shirt. “Shhh,” she rumbles and feels him sigh. “I know. Be still.” She slides a hand into his hair, rubbing fingers against his scalp the way her mother did for her after nightmares as a child. His breath hitches and she knows he’s crying, silently in a way that makes her wonder when he’d learned to quiet his own sadness. “I’ve got it, I’ve got you.” - Days Before; Unwinding, chapter one

Tim gestures at the piles of research vaguely, almost spilling coffee over his hand. Jon takes his mug. “Is that not why I’m here?” “Is it?” Tim gins, raising an eyebrow. “Sure there’s no other reason? A little Netflix and chill?” He’s joking, of course, he knows Jon has never expressed any interest in him in that way. Just a harmless flirtation, meant only to bring a little bit of heat to Jon’s face and neck. And that it does, the tips of his ears burning a ruddy red at the implication. “Tim-” - Days Before; Unwinding, chapter two

Gerry traces a finger over the constellation of freckles along Martin’s shoulder, up the side of his neck, almost light enough to tickle. He’s named some of the constellations before, called them things like Orpheus or Ariadne, pressing kissing into the bare skin until Martin giggles and presses him gently away. - Lazy Sunday Morning, visible world series

“I’m taking you to the doctor. Is the oven already off?” “Yeah, it– yes.” “Okay, just hang on to my shoulders.” “If you drop me–” “I can carry Martin,” Gerry says, hoisting Jon up from the ground, “you think I’m going to drop you?” Jon grumbles but presses his face into Gerry’s shoulder. - prompts, visible world series

Helen…is. At least it thinks so. Any state of being is complicated, as they were never meant to be a being. Helen was, and then very quickly and unceremoniously and all at once Helen was not. And they were Helen, and Helen was them. So, Helen was, and Helen is. The Archivist is, certainly. He’s pretending not to see, keeping his two front eyes shut in her hallways but all the rest of them creak open with curiosity. He follows her with his eyes closed, his hand outstretched to feel the bend and pulse of the wall. The way it shrinks and expands, undulating like an intestine. She wonders if he knows it is feeding on him. Not much. Not enough. But it is, it does. She does. [...] (The thing they were before was never any of that, because it never had to be. It was twisting lines, curving shadows, spirals and fractals. Being hurt. Becoming hurt. And it had turned that hurt on Michael, who had not always been anger and fear and sharp stark lines. And it would turn that hurt on Helen. But not yet. Not yet.) - prompts

When Jon makes his way back into the sitting room Martin is crouched in front of the radiator and frowning, the sleeves of his button down shirt rolled up to show the light brown skin of his forearm. He has a birthmark on his left arm, nestled next to the crease where his arm bends, a dark spot like a smudge of dirt that Jon wants to press his mouth to. - hands, unfinished

Martin appears a minute later from the bedroom  and takes his tea with a grateful little thanks before taking a sip and making a face.  “Tea is tea.” Jon mumbles.  “I’m not sure this still qualifies.” Martin says but drinks it anyway. - hands, unfinished

Martin’s hands are large and strong and lovely. Jon’s breath catches when Martin’s arm curls around his waist and he’s pulled back against Martin’s chest. He can feel Martin’s heart beating against his back, thudding almost as loud and hard as his own. Martin’s fingers settle over his stomach, splaying out. Jon thinks his hand could almost cover it completely and it sets off another round of shivering in him that has nothing at all to do with the cold. “Alright?” Martin whispers. “Yes.” “You’re shaking.” “I’m-- it’s cold, Martin.” Martin hums thoughtfully and lets go of Jon for just a moment, long enough to pull the duvet up higher around them before settling his hand back against Jon’s stomach. Jon curls his own hands in front of his face and grabs the blanket so hard his knuckles ache. - hands, unfinished

Jon hums in agreement, closing his book without bothering to mark the page. He starts to stand and has a sudden thought, freezing half in place, “Do I— do you want me to—?” He gestures vaguely at the hall, where the single bed lies unmade, and then down at the settee. Last night had been...well, wonderful; but it had mostly been a necessity. Now, with the radiator half-working, warming the bones of the cottage, they could theoretically get through the night alone without freezing half to death. He sits back down on the settee rather heavily and it knocks their legs together, though Martin doesn’t seem to notice.  Martin’s brows scrunch together and Jon has to fight the urge to smooth the skin back down with his thumbs. “Do I want what?” Me, Jon thought. He huffed out a sharp breath through his nose. “Do you want— do you want to sleep alone?” - hands, unfinished

“Thank you,” Jon says, his throat and eyes burning with unshed tears, “for having loved me.” Martin’s eyebrows furrow down and his hand comes up to brush Jon’s cheek. His fingers come away wet and Jon knows he’s lost. “Jon?” “It’s okay,” Jon says, even though it’s not. Even though his chest is painfully tight and he no longer knows how to breathe. “It’s okay.” “Jon what- oh. Oh…” Martin’s hands are so lovely and warm and real, one pressed to his face, his chest, his neck. “I did love you,” he says and Jon’s eyes close. There are lips, chapped from the cold and wind, pressed to his forehead. “I did,” Martin murmurs, “I still do.” “How?” Jon breathes out, ragged, his hands reaching for Martin’s wrists with desperate strength.  “How could I not?” - hands, unfinished

[huttons]

Dancing Alone || Tyson Jost

word count: 10.6k

summary: Avery hasn’t been close to her parents in a long time, so moving to Denver to be closer to her sister wasn’t that hard of a choice to make. There she meets Tyson Jost, who somehow manages to sneak his way into her life and change her life in ways she would never expect.

author’s note: this was written for @antoineroussel​ as part of my follower celebration! I hope you enjoy it :’) also ty to @darthsuboptimal​ for being my beta for this <3

warnings: dealing with homophobia (specifically homophobic parents), mainly towards the end of the imagine

~ ~ ~

“I opened my mouth, almost said something. Almost. The rest of my life might have turned out differently if I had. But I didn’t.” — Khaled Hosseini

Avery had the chance to move anywhere she wanted to, start over fresh in any large city. But in the end, she decides to go to Denver to be near her oldest sister. The thought of having someone there to support her after graduating university is too tempting to turn down. Besides, Luna offered for her to stay in her apartment as Avery found a place to live.

“How did you manage to get so many clothes?” Luna groans as she brings in Avery’s last suitcase.

Avery snorts. “I honestly have no idea. But I swear half the coats came from Joan because she said I’d need them coming here.”

“Well, she’s not wrong,” Luna sighs. “At least you’ll have the summer to prepare before winter comes.”

“I guess that’s good,” Avery says, looking over all the things she has to unpack now. “God, I’m not looking forward to doing this all over again when I find my own place.”

“Maybe we’ll hire a moving company,” Luna jokes. “But no thinking about that now, I just got you here.”

Avery smiles. “Yeah, I guess you’re stuck with me for a bit.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to it, okay? Dinner will probably be around 6 or so, if that’s okay.”

“Of course. That should give me enough time to get mostly sorted.”

After Luna leaves the room, Avery sighs. Knowing that things won’t unpack themselves, she decides to start with her clothes. She gets lost in refolding everything and trying to figure out an organization method for the dresser and closet. Even though it’s headed into the middle of summer, Avery makes sure to hang up her winter jackets first, knowing that they’ll come in handy sooner than she’d like.

Before she knows it, Luna is calling her into the kitchen for dinner. They mostly start talking about Avery’s drive over from Portland, and confirming that Avery got everything sorted before making the move. It’s everything that she was expecting Luna to check up on, being the most organized out of the two.

“Now, you said you had an interview lined up?” Luna inquires, curious.

“Oh, yeah, it’s at this local plant shop. I’d basically be helping their marketing and sales, then helping up in the front on occasion. Nothing too fancy, but it sounded like fun,” Avery answers. “Better than going back into retail full-time at the very least.”

“You’re not wrong there,” Luna sighs. “Do you want any practice or some help with your outfit? Or did you already get it sorted?”

“I think I’m good,” Avery says hesitantly. “I feel good about it, anyways.”

“Alright then, but if you change your mind tomorrow, let me know,” Luna replies. “Because-”

“There’s never any shame in being too prepared,” Avery finishes. “I know.”

Luna laughs. “Good to see you still have me memorized.”

“Of course I do,” Avery snorts. 

The rest of the night passes easily, and Avery enjoys every second of being back with her sister. It was hard going to university so far away from her family, but she wanted the freedom that it provided. After the initial homesickness had passed, she knew that she had made the right decision, as it allowed her to become more confident in herself in a way that would have never happened with her parents around.

When Avery’s interview rolls around, she feels nervous and a bit flustered. Sure, this might not be the job she imagined getting right after graduation, but it would still be something she’d enjoy. There was a reason she chose to major in plant biology at least. 

As Avery walks into the shop, she’s greeted by the slightly humid air and freshly watered soil. It feels relaxing, a small reminder of her university’s greenhouse. She almost forgets that she’s here for an interview, and not to look around at all of the plants.

“Are you Avery?” someone inquires.

Avery turns around and sees an older woman, dressed in casual clothing. She smiles and nods in response.

“Yeah, that’d be me,” Avery replies. “And you’re...Helen?”

“You’re correct. Now, come and follow me to the back so we can talk in peace.”

Avery follows her back, and isn’t surprised by the tiny office area in the back. It’s mostly filled with compost and other plants, and a small table just in the corner. She notices two small rooms off to the side, but they don’t take up too much space. Helen takes a seat at the table, so Avery takes the chair right across from her. 

“I know this isn’t much, but we’re doing the best we can,” Helen says. “Now, I wanted to ask you about your school, especially since it isn’t marketing based.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Avery replies, nervous.

Over the next forty-five minutes, Helen questions Avery on a wide variety of subjects. While quite a few have to do with the main functions of the position, she also asks about Avery’s knowledge of plants. That’s when Avery starts to feel a bit more in her element and feels more confident in her answers.

“Well, it was awfully nice meeting you,” Helen says. “I still have a couple other people to meet with, but I’ll let you know any decisions in a week or so.”

“Thank you so much,” Avery replies. “I hope you have a great rest of your day.”

As she exits the shop, she feels like there’s a weight lifted off of her shoulders. Avery feels like she did as well as she could have, especially given the circumstances. When she gets back to the apartment, Luna left out a small spread for lunch with a cute post-it note left on top. Smiling, Avery tucks the note into her pocket to hold onto.

Luna comes back later that night with Indian takeout, knowing that it’s Avery’s favorite. After they get their plates sorted, they head into the living room to watch sometime on Netflix. Nothing gets brought up about the interview, Luna knowing that Avery will mention it when she’s ready. She doesn’t say anything until after she’s eaten most of her food.

“I think it went well,” Avery says quietly. “Like, I felt good during it, but I don’t know if I was who she was looking for.”

“Just means you’ll get the chance to look for something else that might be better,” Luna replies easily. “I know you’ll find something soon.”

Avery sighs. “I hope so.”

A few days go by, and as Avery waits to hear back from the plant shop, she starts to settle more into the apartment and Denver. She’s only visited Luna here a couple of times, so Avery tries to make a list of places she wants to visit. The thought of starting her life here is exciting as it is terrifying, but she hopes that it pays off.

Before she knows it, Avery gets a call from Helen saying that she got the job. Helen wants her to come in the next week to start learning the ropes on how the shop is run. Avery feels overwhelmed, but is excited that she managed to get the position. It makes Denver feel just a bit more like home.

“Looks like I’m really stuck with you now,” Luna jokes after Avery tells her. 

“How unfortunate,” Avery replies, smiling softly. 

By the time her first day of work rolls around, Avery feels a bit more settled into life in Denver. As all first days are, she’s completely overwhelmed with all of the information she has to take in, but she knows it’ll be worth it. Helen seems wonderful, as well as the other people Avery meets throughout the day.

Avery is a little surprised that she gets her own office, but she supposes it makes sense if she’ll be spending a lot of her time in the shop. Even if she does have to spend a lot of time up in the front working with customers, it’ll feel nice to be connected to part of the community. Besides, Avery knows that she doesn’t do well spending too much time by herself.

As the summer passes, Avery finds herself settling in more and more into Denver. Everyday she’s more grateful that she moved here instead of going back home with her parents. Sometimes she wonders if Luna already figured out why she wanted to get as far away from their parents as possible. It wouldn’t be a surprise since Luna still calls them on occasion, but she never says anything to Avery.

They make it all the way until October before Luna gently brings up the holidays, curious as to what Avery’s plans are. On the surface, it’s a simple question, but Avery really knows what Luna is trying to get at.

“I mean, I was hoping to stay here. I don’t really want to go back home,” Avery says reluctantly. “And before you say anything, there’s no way mom and dad didn’t tell you about what happened.”

“They tried to, but I told them I wanted to hear it from you first,” Luna replies. “And you don’t have to tell me now, though it would be nice to have some context.”

Avery sighs. “It’s just...it’s really nothing, and I blew it out of proportion, but things have been weird ever since. I just don’t know how to fix it.”

Luna gives her an encouraging look, but doesn’t say anything, knowing that Avery will say as much as she wants to.

“Well, they found out that I was dating a girl, and mom totally freaked out on me. She started crying because she felt like I couldn’t trust her with something like that and started guilt tripping me,” Avery explains. “It only got worse when I told her that she wasn’t entitled to know that I was bi. And dad obviously backed her up on all of this.”

“That...sounds like something they would do,” Luna says. “But they were okay with it, right? Or…”

Avery shrugs. “They refused to talk about it after that, and I got mad that they seemed to act weird about it. Mom just said it was because I said she didn’t need to know, so she was going to pretend like it isn’t a part of me.”

“I’m starting to understand where this is all going. I think they’re just not sure how to handle you not being straight, but that’s not your problem. That most definitely explains why mom keeps asking about your dating life when she calls.”

“Are you serious?” Avery groans. “I’m still trying to find friends, much less someone to date.”

Luna laughs. “That’s what I keep telling her. Like please, I’m still your only non-work friend and you’ve been here for almost four months now.”

“How else am I supposed to make friends though?” Avery exclaims. “Nobody told me it’d be this hard to make friends.”

“Welcome to adulthood, my dear sister,” Luna says, smiling brightly. “Now, back to the original subject: holidays. I was thinking about going home if I could get the time off from pediatrics, but if you’re staying here, I’ll stay here.”

Avery frowns. “You don’t have to stay here just because I’m going to be here.”

“Please, I’m not going to make you stay here by yourself.”

“I’ve done holidays by myself before, I don’t mind doing it again this year,” Avery points out.

Luna rolls her eyes. “Look, you’re here now and we’ll make the most of it, okay? I’ll probably have to work either Thanksgiving or Christmas, but I don’t want you to be completely alone.”

“Thank you,” Avery says quietly, smiling a little bit.

She knows that it’s probably only a small concession on Luna’s part, but Avery appreciates it anyway. It’s been a long time since she’s done anything special for any of the major holidays, so she feels excited in a way she hasn’t felt in a long time.

Over the next few weeks, Avery starts to settle into a routine at the plant shop. The days pass quickly, and she feels more confident in her decision to come to Denver. She starts to meet more people through her work as well, and it feels nice to be able to find other people to talk to besides Luna.

It's early Monday morning, a time where Avery normally focuses on doing some work out in the front, when she meets a new customer. He comes in looking a bit frazzled, and he gives Avery a slightly panicked smile when he sees her.

“Hi, welcome in! Is there something I can help you with?” she inquires. 

“Uh, yeah, I was hoping you could help me with a floral arrangement. It’s a little last minute but I need it as soon as possible,” he explains. “Oh! I’m Tyson by the way.”

He sticks out his hand, and Avery shakes it, laughing a little.

“So...what kind of arrangement are we looking for? Something for your girlfriend?” Avery asks. 

“Oh, no, it’s for my mom,” Tyson replies.

“Any idea what kind of flowers she likes?”

Tyson blushes. “No, I don’t. But she really likes purple?”

“I’m sure I can get something together. We’re kind of limited since these are the last of our flowers for the season, and we only keep fresh flowers for our arrangements.”

Avery leads him over to a case that only has a few bouquets left, and there aren’t that many flowers that bloom this late in the year. She lets out a sigh when she spots the gladiolus, knowing that it’s a great plant to have, even if it doesn’t last extremely long after being picked. Still, if this is a last minute thing for Tyson, it probably doesn’t need to hold perfect for too long. After grabbing it out of the case, she holds it in a way to show it off.

“You’re lucky that we had people growing these flowers this year. They normally don’t go into any arrangements since they bloom so late into the season,” Avery explains. “But we have a couple others that might work, I just figured this was a good first shot.”

“No, this should be perfect,” Tyson replies. “How much?”

“Should be about $50,” Avery answers. 

Tyson nods, so she takes that as confirmation that it’s a good price. She leads him over to the register and rings him up. After she hands him the bouquet, he heads off with a bright smile, and looks slightly less panicked. Avery doesn’t think much of it at the time, but she does note that he was kind of attractive.

The following week, around the same time, Tyson comes in again, looking just as nervous as the first time. Avery gives him a small smile as she saves her work and comes over to help him.

“Did your mom like the flowers?” Avery inquires, genuinely curious. 

“Oh! She loved them, said they were really pretty,” Tyson says.

Avery smiles. “Good to know that I haven’t lost my touch then. Now, what can I help you with today?”

“My sister said she wanted something too. Not an arrangement or anything, but a house plant? I don’t really know where to start though,” Tyson replies with a small frown.

“Does she have any plants already?”

“No, not that I know of. So...something easy to take care of I guess. And maybe something that doesn’t need a ton of sunlight because I don’t know how much she gets in her apartment. Also something that I can ship in the mail?” 

“Maybe a snake plant? I have some relatively small ones that might be able to ship well if you pack it right,” Avery replies. “And they’re pretty easy to care for, even if they need a little bit of sunlight.”

“That sounds great,” Tyson says. “Um, if I bring it by, could you help me pack it?”

“I - sure?” Avery replies, uncertain. 

“I can pay you for it, I just don’t trust myself to do it on my own,” Tyson says, laughing.

“No, don’t worry about paying me for it. Just make sure you bring packing supplies and a box that the plant can fit in.”

Tyson nods happily as Avery goes to grab one of the smaller snake plants. She’s not totally certain how well it’ll ship, but she hopes that she does good enough. And if Tyson is so intent on paying her, maybe she can convince him to spend his money on priority shipping instead. The quicker it gets to his sister, the better.

“That’ll be $15,” Avery says after ringing up the plant. 

“Perfect, thank you. Are you going to be here later this week?”

“Yeah, I’m here Monday through Friday, although I might be back in the office and not up front. Just ask for me.”

“And...what’s your name?”

Avery blushes. “Oh, my name’s Avery! Sorry, I didn’t realize I never introduced myself.”

“No, you’re fine. Thank you so much for helping me.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Avery replies, shrugging.

Tyson makes his way out of the store, and Avery lets out a big sigh. She knows that small things like this are important when running a small business, but she can’t believe that she agreed to package a plant for some random customer. At least it’ll be something interesting to help break up her day.

On Wednesday, Remy comes to her office, letting her know that Tyson has come by asking for her. It might be against shop protocol, but Avery tells him to just send Tyson to the back, figuring that it’d be easier to do this in the back. When Remy comes back, he’s leading a slightly confused Tyson, who’s holding the plant, a bunch of newspapers, and a box.

“You can set everything down here,” Avery says, pointing out the lone table. “I can help you get everything sorted much easier than in my office.”

Remy gives them a curious look, but lets them do their thing.

“Thank you so much,” Tyson says. “I feel dumb not being able to do this on my own, but I know I’d find a way to mess this up. And I really don’t need another reason for Kacey to make fun of me.”

“I’m guessing Kacey is your sister?” Avery asks. “And I mean, I feel like she’s going to tease you anyways. That’s what sisters are best at, aren’t they?”

Tyson lets out a small laugh. “Yeah, I guess so. I’m guessing you have sisters?”

“Just one older sister. She’s actually the whole reason I came to Denver. Wanted to be closer to her.”

“That’s nice,” Tyson says quietly. “I moved out here for work.”

“Denver’s not a bad place to end up.”

“No, it really isn’t.”

They keep up the small talk as Avery helps Tyson pack up the plant. She’s almost certain that he could have done this himself, but she appreciates the company and change of pace. They talk a lot about their favorite parts of Denver, and by the time Tyson heads out, Avery has a long list of places to check out.

“I really appreciate this,” Tyson says before leaving.

“It’s really no problem, but I’m glad that you stopped by anyways,” Avery replies.

When Avery arrives back home, Luna gives her a look, knowing that something is up. Avery might have mentioned Tyson a couple of times to her, and attempted to be casual about it. As much as she doesn’t admit it, she also knows that Luna knows her best.

“Tyson came in today,” Avery sighs, knowing she should just get the subject out of the way.

“And?” Luna asks.

“And nothing. I just helped him like I said I would.”

“Okay…and?”

“We hung out in the back and talked a little bit. I swear it was nothing, we were just talking about some of our favorite places here in Denver.”

“Well, that’s a shame. Maybe you’ll get to see him again.”

Avery groans and flops down on the couch. “Nothing’s going to happen, Luna. First of all, he’s a customer and second of all, we’ve hardly interacted! I don’t even know what he does for work or what his last name is.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t have a little bit of fun.”

“Ugh, please remind me why I’m still living with you?”

“Because you love it,” Luna replies, smiling brightly. “Anyways, if you insist that it’s nothing, I’ll drop it. I just get excited for you.”

“I know you do, but I promise everything is going well. I haven’t even been here six months yet,” Avery points out.

“I suppose you’re right.”

Thankfully, Luna drops the subject, knowing that Avery moves on her own time when it comes to meeting new people. Besides, Avery thinks that she won’t be seeing Tyson anymore, unless his sister insists on him getting her another plant. Even then, it’s no guarantee that he’ll want to see her again.

Turns out, she doesn’t have to wait too long to have her questions answered. It’s only a couple of weeks later when Tyson comes into the shop with a couple of other people. Avery assumes their friends by the way they’re joking around with each other. When Tyson sees her, he smiles brightly, and seems to blush, but Avery brushes that off as nothing.

“Nice to see you in here again,” Avery says. “Who are your friends here?”

“Oh, this is JT and Alexander. We work with the same company,” Tyson answers.

“That’s fun,” Avery replies, noticing that JT and Alexander are giving Tyson weird looks. “So, anything special that you’re coming in for? Is your sister demanding more plants already?”

“No, uh, actually no,” Tyson replies. “Um…”

“Did...did you want a plant? I’m sure I can find something that works well with your schedule,” Avery says.

“He wants to ask you out on a date,” JT blurts out.

“JT,” Tyson hisses. “I was going to ask you that, but not like that, I swear.”

Alexander rolls his eyes. “Please, you would have never asked her out.”

“Uh…” Avery says awkwardly. “Can I speak to Tyson by himself please?”

JT and Alexander at least look a little bit ashamed of themselves, and head out of the shop. There’s a few moments of silence where Avery and Tyson just kind of look at each other, neither quite sure what to say. 

“So, uh, I’m really sorry about them,” Tyson apologizes. “I brought them for moral support, not to actually do that.”

“No, it’s...well, it’s not really okay, but I get it,” Avery replies.

“I’ll leave if you want me to, I really didn’t mean to make things weird.”

“Let’s meet at that coffee shop you were telling me about. I get off work at 4pm today, so I shouldn’t take too long to get there. You can have one redo,” Avery says. 

“Okay, that should work, I promise it won’t be so weird,” Tyson replies gratefully.

After he leaves the shop, Avery lets out a heavy sigh. She’s not totally sure what to make of what just happened, and tries to let it sink it. Despite what it might come off as, it’s not like she’s opposed to going on a date with Tyson, it just felt like a weird situation to be put into, especially since she’s still getting to know him.

Once she clocks out and locks up the shop, she makes her way over to the cafe. There’s a small part of her that wishes she could have had the chance to change, but her apartment is too far for that. It’s also a little bit annoying having to carry around her work bag, and while Avery is sure nothing would happen to it, she doesn’t want to leave it in the shop.

When she gets there, she doesn’t see Tyson yet, so she goes and orders something before grabbing a seat in the corner. At the very least, there’s a little bit of privacy since the chairs aren’t right next to anyone else. If he’s going to insist on asking Avery out properly, she doesn’t necessarily want anyone else overhearing.

Thankfully, Avery doesn’t have to wait long after grabbing her drink and sandwich for Tyson to walk in. He smiles brightly when he sees her. Instead of going to order something for himself, he sits next to her.

“Do you not want to order anything first?” Avery inquires, frowning a little.

“No, I ate not too long ago, so I’m fine. Besides, I probably shouldn’t be having caffeine this late in the day, I have an early morning tomorrow,” Tyson explains. “So, uh, before I try to make up for earlier, I wanted to tell you something I think you should know first.”

“Ah, is this when you tell me that you’re a serial killer?” Avery jokes.

Tyson laughs a little, noticeably nervous. “Um, no. I’m actually a professional athlete? I play hockey for the Avalanche here. It’s why I moved to Denver in the first place.”

“That’s...pretty cool. Except for the fact that I know absolutely nothing about hockey.”

“I kind of figured since you didn’t know who I was, but I also didn’t want to assume.”

Avery shrugs. “I mean, that’s a pretty big accomplishment.”

“Yeah, guess so,” Tyson replies, blushing a little bit. “So, um, I was planning on having this cute speech and everything to make up for earlier, but I kind of forgot it?”

“Please, you don’t need a whole speech. That’s a little much, don’t you think?” Avery snorts. 

“I suppose so. I just felt bad. And I also felt bad that JT said that while you were at work, I know that puts you in a weird position. Although I guess me asking you if you want to get coffee sometime isn’t much better,” Tyson replies, frowning a little.

“At least I know you a bit more than your friend,” Avery points out.

“That’s...also true,” Tyson sighs. “Well, since we’re already here, would you like to get dinner sometime? Like...as a date?”

Avery laughs a little. Despite knowing that this was a very real option, it still feels a bit unreal being asked out. Before the nervous excitement completely takes over, she remembers that she needs to give him an answer. 

“Yeah, I think I can do that. I’m off most days after 4pm and I don’t work the weekends,” Avery replies.

“Maybe next week? If you give me your number, I’m sure we could figure something out.”

“Sounds good.”

After exchanging their numbers, they hang out for a bit longer, before Avery says she could be heading back home. She didn’t tell Luna about this, so she knows that her sister is probably wondering where she’s at. As they head out of the cafe, Tyson stops awkwardly, not quite sure how to say goodbye. Avery rolls her eyes, and pulls him into a hug. He holds her tightly for a moment before letting her go.

The second Avery walks back into the apartment, Luna is bombarding her with questions. She knows that her sister means well, so she lets it all slide and explains what happened.

“Oh, that’s exciting,” Luna says with a wide smile. “I can’t believe you didn’t know he was a professional athlete, though.”

“You know I don’t watch sports. Although I guess that’s going to have to change if this date goes well,” Avery sighs. 

“Please, I’m sure it’s going to go great. You just have to have a little bit of faith,” Luna says. “And I honestly can’t believe you got a date before finding non-work friends.”

“I don’t see you having non-work friends and you’ve lived here longer than I have,” Avery replies, squinting her eyes a little bit. 

Luna sighs dramatically. “I suppose you’re right.”

Over the next couple of days, she and Tyson text constantly, both wanting to get to know the other person better. She knows that they’re probably doing this a little bit out of order, but it is nice that she knows what Tyson wants out of this. Otherwise, she knows that she would probably be left a ball of nerves, wondering if it was going to turn into anything else.

It’s a couple weeks before Tyson officially asks her on a dinner date, and Avery feels good about it. Sure, she still feels a bit nervous, but if she’s learned anything, it’s that Tyson always finds something to talk about and keeps the conversation rolling. So at the very least, there won’t be too many awkward silences.

Tyson insists on picking Avery up, wanting to make sure that the whole night goes perfect. He’s right on time at 5pm, and smiles brightly when he sees Avery walk out of the apartment complex. 

“You look great,” Tyson says. “Way to make me feel underdressed.”

Avery rolls her eyes. “I’m sure your shirt cost more than this whole outfit.”

“I don’t think so,” Tyson replies, looking a little bit concerned. 

Avery laughs a little. “I was just kidding.”

Tyson blushes as he opens the door for Avery. She smiles softly in thanks, and then they’re off. As he drives towards the restaurant, she notices that it’s in a nice part of downtown, although she’s not that surprised. When she was looking the place up to check out the menu, she made note of how nice it was. It might be an attempt to impress her, but she’s not complaining.

Once they’re seated, Avery takes a quick look around her, and starts to feel a bit out of place. She does her best to take it all in stride, though. 

“You’re doing good at trying to impress me,” Avery jokes.

“Really?” Tyson asks, obviously a little bit stressed.

“Yeah, not too shabby. But you really don’t need to do this, I promise.”

“I know, I just still feel like I need to make up for my friends.”

Avery laughs a little. “Consider it made up then.”

Thankfully, dinner goes well, both of them enjoying talking in person. Avery finds herself feeling more comfortable as the night goes on, and loves how easy it is to get along with Tyson. He just makes everything feel simple, and it’s endearingly earnest. By the end of the night, she feels content in a way she hasn’t felt in a while.

“I had a great time tonight,” Avery says. 

“So, that would be a yes to a second date?” Tyson inquires hopefully.

“Yeah, I think I can make that work,” Avery answers, smiling brightly.

As Tyson drives Avery back to her apartment, there’s a lull in the conversation. The silence is comfortable, and she doesn’t feel the need to fill it. When he parks his car in the apartment parking lot, he smiles at her again.

“I’m really happy you had a good time,” Tyson says softly.

He quickly kisses Avery on her cheek, then blushes deeply.

“Yeah, I’m excited for round two. Maybe you can invite me to one of your games,” Avery jokes, blushing just as hard as Tyson.

“Oh, you’d want to come?” Tyson inquires, hopeful.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s your job and everything. Has the season already started?”

“No, but we have a preseason game here next week if you’d want to come? It’s on Wednesday. And maybe you can bring your sister so that you have someone there with you.”

“Yeah, that would actually be amazing.”

“I’ll leave you tickets.”

“No, don’t worry about that. I’m sure Luna and I could figure something out,” Avery insists.

“It’s really not that hard for me. Besides, I want to make sure you get good seats.”

“Okay,” Avery says softly. “Can I make sure Luna is free first, though? I want to make sure before I commit to anything.”

“Of course,” Tyson replies. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Bye, Tyson,” Avery says as she heads out.

When Avery gets back up to the apartment, it’s quiet. She groans, forgetting that Luna has an overnight shift tonight since she agreed to cover for a coworker. This just means it’ll be a day or so before Avery can ask about the game since Luna will crash as soon as she gets back to the apartment.

All through her shift the following day, Avery just feels herself thrumming with excitement from the previous night. Helen even remarks on it, joking that she can feel Avery’s emotions from the other side of the store.

“Oh, um, I’m sorry,” Avery apologizes. “I just had a good night last night.”

“Wouldn’t happen to be a date, now would it? I’m old enough to recognize that look on your face anywhere,” Helen says, smirking.

Avery flushes immediately. “Uh, you might be right.”

“Why don’t you tell me about him? They must be pretty great to get you all flustered.”

And so this is how Avery ends up spilling all of the details to her boss. Helen listens patiently, asking only a couple of questions. Before she knows it, almost an hour has passed.

“I - oh, sorry for taking up your time,” Avery says. “I didn’t mean to talk for that long.”

“We can always finish whatever we have another time. Nothing replaces a good conversation, does it?”

“No, I suppose not. I just didn’t even know I could talk that long about him.”

Helen laughs. “Sometimes people take us by complete surprise. Tyson seems like a good person, and I’m glad you met him.”

“Yeah, me too,” Avery says quietly, with a small smile.

When Avery gets back to the apartment that night, Luna is obviously just waking up. She’s still wearing her pajamas, and is only barely put together. Not like Avery can blame her, she can’t imagine having to work overnight in a children’s hospital.

“How do you feel about takeout? Nothing we have here sounds good,” Luna asks groggily. “And I just want something that’ll actually last a few days.”

“That sounds good. Does Indian work? I can call to put in our order.”

“Yeah, that would be nice.”

An hour later, the two of them are curled up on the couch together watching some sitcom. Avery waits a little bit to bring up her date with Tyson, knowing that Luna needs some time to be at full processing capabilities. Besides, it’s not like she gets much time to just hang out with her sister all that often anyways.

“Wait, you had your date last night, didn’t you?” Luna inquires after she finishes her good. “How’d it go?”

“Oh, uh, it went a lot better than I was expecting. He was really great and I just felt like we got along well,” Avery says. 

“So I’m guessing there’ll be a second date?” Luna teases.

Avery blushes. “Yeah, you’d be right.”

“I’m glad you’re happy,” Luna says softly. “Whenever I’d talk to you while you were in uni, you always sounded so tired and angry. And I hope you’re happy here with me.”

“Of course I am,” Avery replies. “You’ve been nothing but amazing, and this is home now.”

Luna smiles. “That’s good to hear.”

Their conversation lapses into silence and Avery reflects on it. It’s true - Denver has become her new home and she’s truly happy for the first time in a long time. This is one of the first times she hasn’t had to think about her parents and worry about how they were going to criticize her next. Meeting Tyson has only been an added bonus so far, she would love her life just as much even if he hadn’t waltzed into it. Speaking of Tyson, she also remembered about the game next week.

“So Tyson was wondering if you’d be free next week to go to a game,” Avery says, trying to be casual. “He knows I wouldn’t want to go by myself.”

“I could maybe swing it. What day is it?”

“Next Wednesday. Is that too soon?”

Luna ponders it for a quick second. “I could probably swing it. I get off work at 5pm that day, so we’d probably get there right on time, if not a little late.”

“I’ll let him know,” Avery replies, smiling.

“Does this mean I get to meet him?”

“I guess so? We didn’t work out plans for after the game.”

“I better get to meet him. I want to see if he passes my arbitrary rules.”

Avery lets out a surprised laugh. “I’ll let you know what he says.”

It’s not much later that Avery decides to go to bed, calling it an early night. Before she knows it, her alarm is blaring, and she rolls out of bed to get ready for work. Once she gets to work, she sends Tyson a text, letting him know about the game, as well as the fact that Luna wants to meet him afterwards. He doesn’t respond right away, so she sets to work on updating the store’s website.

While she’s on her lunch break, Avery checks her phone and sees that Tyson texted back. He apparently got the tickets sorted, and the game doesn’t start until 7pm, giving her and Luna just enough time to get there. He also explains that as much as he’d love to meet up after, he usually heads back home right away to go to bed.

Well, just means you’ll have to meet Luna some other time, is what Avery says back.

I’d love to meet her :) maybe we can get lunch on one of her days off or something

That’d be great!!

Avery smiles softly, happy that Tyson wants to meet Luna. Even though she knows that she’s made it clear that Luna is important to her, it’s still nice knowing that Tyson understands that. She’s still unsure of telling him why, but she knows that conversation can wait a while. It’s a heavy topic for someone she’s only gone on one date with, and Avery isn’t in a spot where she feels comfortable talking about it.

Before she knows it, Avery and Luna are making their way into Pepsi Center. The energy is wild, and it’s hard to not get swept up in it. Even though she knows that she won’t get to see Tyson after this, she’s still excited to watch a game. She and Luna looked up as much information as they could so that they could understand as much of the game as possible.  And while Avery knows that it’s a preseason game, she still hopes that the Avs do well.

“Well, this is quite a first game,” Luna says breathlessly, as they sit down.

“It really is,” Avery laughs. “I guess it’s a good chance for us to try and understand everything we learned this last week.”

“I sure hope so,” Luna replies, smiling.

Once the game starts, Avery and Luna get swept up in the electric energy running through the arena. Despite not fully understanding some of the calls, they both have a great game. Tyson doesn’t play too much, but every time he gets on the ice, Avery makes sure to cheer a little bit louder. By the time the game has ended in a win for the Avs, she feels totally ramped up, and she knows it’ll be a little while before she falls asleep.

“That was amazing,” Avery says. “I have no clue why I didn’t do this before.”

“I mean, it might have been a little hard in Portland. Do they even have any hockey teams?”

“I...don’t think so.”

Luna laughs. “Well, now is as good a time as any, I suppose. Hopefully Tyson can get you more tickets during the season.”

“I’m sure he won’t have a problem with that.”

Avery makes sure to send Tyson a quick congratulatory text, as well as a selfie she and Luna took earlier. She pockets her phone, knowing that he won’t respond for a little while. The ride back home is fairly quiet, both trying to soak in the game. It feels a little surreal, but it’s definitely an experience that Avery will remember for a long time.

Once they get home, they stay up to watch some TV to try and calm down a little. Before Avery knows it, she feels herself start to fall asleep. The only thing that gets her to move is not wanting to wake up on the couch in the morning.

“Ugh,” Luna groans as Avery gets up. “Why is moving so hard? I didn’t even do anything.”

Avery snorts. “Come on, you’re going to hate yourself if you sleep on the couch. It’s comfy, but not comfy enough to double as a bed.”

“You’re right,” Luna sighs, rolling off the couch. “I think my age is finally catching up to me.”

“Please, thirty is hardly old.”

“Wait until you’re my age, Avery,” Luna threatens, jokingly. 

“Sure, whatever you say.”

When Avery flops down in bed, she checks her phone, smiling when she sees that Tyson replied. It’s not much, but it’s still nice to see. She just sends a heart in response, and falls asleep almost instantaneously. 

The following morning, Tyson comes into the shop, looking much more awake than Avery was expecting. Still, she smiles brightly, not having expected him to come by the shop today.

“This is a nice surprise,” Avery comments. 

“I just wanted to see you since I didn’t get the chance last night,” Tyson replies. “I’m glad you and Luna had a good time, though.”

“Yeah, she’s already badgering me to go to more games,” Avery laughs. “I wouldn’t be complaining either, though. It was really fun.”

“So, uh, I was wondering if you’d want to get dinner again sometime?” Tyson inquires nervously.

“That’d be really nice,” Avery replies. “Somewhere a bit more casual, though. You don’t need to try and impress me.”

“But what if I want to?”

“Oh, well, I guess that could be arranged. Not this time, though.”

Tyson smiles. “Okay, that sounds good. I have to go soon, but I just wanted to stop by while I was in the area.”

After he heads out, Helen comes in only a few moments later. She gives Avery a questioning look, probably knowing exactly who Tyson is.

“Was that who I thought it was?” Helen inquires, smiling deviously.

“Uh...depends on who you thought it was?” Avery replies, flustered.

“The boy you were telling me about, of course,” Helen says. “Only you didn’t mention that he was a professional athlete.”

“I mean, I didn’t even realize it at first,” Avery says, a little defensive. “I just thought he worked a boring office job or something.”

Helen laughs. “Well, I’m glad you seem to be doing good for yourself. You seem much happier than when you first started working here.”

“Probably because I am happier,” Avery replies, shrugging. “I feel like I finally found my place here, you know?”

“Good, I’m glad to hear that. Now, let me see those updates you’ve made to the website. You set up things for local online ordering, right?”

Avery is grateful for the change in the subject, and walks Helen through all of the updates. Online ordering was something new Helen wanted to do this year for the holidays, and Avery was more than willing to help with figuring out the logistics of it all. Hopefully they don’t get too overwhelmed, but there’s enough people working at the shop to at least help a little bit.

By the time the end of the day rolls around, Avery is ready to go. She’s looking forward to a relaxed night to make up for how exciting the previous day was. Much to her surprise, Tyson is waiting near the entrance, obviously waiting around for Avery to finish locking up.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you today,” Avery says. “No game tonight?”

“No, we just had practice earlier today. I was hoping to take you to dinner, though, if you’re free,” Tyson replies.

“I suppose I can do that.”

Tyson smiles brightly and starts walking down the sidewalk. It takes a moment for Avery to catch up, still surprised at him showing up unexpectedly like this. As they walk towards wherever Tyson has picked for dinner, he keeps brushing Avery’s hand. She smiles a little before deciding to hold his hand.

“Oh,” Tyson says quietly. 

“Do you...not want to hold hands?” Avery asks, a little concerned. 

“No, no, this is nice,” Tyson replies, obviously trying to not smile, but his hand tightens around hers a little bit more.

Avery tries to hide her smile as well, but fails. “So, where are we headed?”

“Uh, just this restaurant me and some of the guys go to on occasion. It’s a super chill place, but we don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“No, I’m more than happy to go. I was just curious.”

Tyson lets himself smile then, and continues to walk towards the restaurant. Once they get there, Avery notices that it’s very much a retro burger type of place. It seems like a fun place, and completely different from their first dinner together. They’re seated fairly quickly in a small corner of the restaurant.

“They’re used to us stopping by, so we usually get the more secluded tables,” Tyson explains after the waiter drops off their menus. 

“Oh, that must be nice,” Avery comments. “I’m sure it’s hard to go out sometimes.”

Tyson shrugs. “It’s honestly a hit or miss. Like we’re not popular by any means, but we’re still kind of well known.”

“Still, any guarantee of privacy must be nice. Or, you know, the illusion of it at least.”

The rest of the evening passes just as quickly as their first date together. Avery finds herself laughing more often than not, and she just feels content by the end of the evening. By the time they leave the restaurant, she finds herself not wanting the evening to end. She’s enjoyed her time with Tyson so much, and she values it more knowing how busy he is.

“I’m really glad you came by,” Avery remarks as they start walking towards her car. “Tonight was a lot of fun.”

“Good, I’m glad,” Tyson says softly. “I was, uh, wondering if you’d want to make us official? Like boyfriend and girlfriend type of thing.”

“Oh,” Avery says. “Yeah - I, yeah, that would be great.”

Tyson smiles brightly. “Okay, that’s...that’s good. Do you mind if I tell the guys?”

“Uh, no? Should I be worried that you’re asking that?”

“I don’t think so? But it might mean JT and Alexander randomly stop by the shop to meet you on a more official basis.”

“I think I can handle that. That means you need to meet Luna, though.”

“I’d love to meet her, you know I would.”

Only a few moments later, they find themselves standing by Avery’s car. She knows she should probably head back to the apartment, but she finds herself not wanting the evening to end. Tyson seems to be the same, not letting her hand go. He hesitates for a moment before going to kiss her cheek.

“I’ll see you soon?” Tyson whispers.

“Yeah, of course,” Avery says. 

He lets her hand go and smiles softly before walking off to his own car. Once Avery gets into her car, she sighs deeply. In all of her imaginations of what Denver would be like, she could have never predicted Tyson. It feels a bit surreal, but she’s still happy with how things have been going lately.

When she gets back to the apartment, Luna is already passed out, leaving Avery to assume that she has an early shift at the hospital tomorrow. This makes her think about finding her own apartment, knowing that she’s stayed with her sister longer than intended. Even though she knows that Luna doesn’t mind her staying in the apartment, Avery also knows she should start looking for her own place. She’ll miss being around her sister all the time, but she also knows that this isn’t permanent.

The weeks start to pass, and before Avery knows it, it’s well into the holiday season. The shop is busier than either her or Helen would have expected, but it helps the days go by quickly. Tyson’s schedule also ramps up, so they don’t see each other as much as they’ve wanted to. It also means that she hasn’t had the chance to introduce him to Luna yet, given that Luna is also extremely busy this time of year.

The business also keeps Avery from thinking too much about her parents. Neither of them have tried to contact her, although that’s not too much of a surprise, given the previous few years. At this point, it would surprise her more if they actually tried to reach out at this point, which is why Avery feels shock seep through her when she sees her mom calling her.

“Hello?” Avery answers tentatively. 

“Oh, it’s good to hear from you again,” her mom, Jane, says. “I wasn’t sure if you’d pick up or not.”

“You caught me at a good time, I guess,” Avery replies, trying to not sound too rude.

“Well, I just wanted to see what your plans were for Christmas. I know Luna is working, and I don’t want you to be all alone,” Jane says. “And it’s been so long since your father and I have seen you.”

Avery tenses up. “Luna and I made other plans, mom. It’s too expensive to buy a ticket right now anyways.”

“I’ll pay for your ticket,” Jane offers.

“I’m really okay. I’m going to stay here with Luna.”

“Avery, I don’t think you quite get what I’m saying. Your father and I have decided that it’s time to make amends and you should be coming to see us. It’s been a long time since we’ve been a family.”

“It’s not my fault you got mad that I’m not straight,” Avery spits out.

“Honey, this can all be fixed. Just because we don’t approve of the same things you do doesn’t mean we still aren’t family.”

“We’ve already settled this! This is exactly why I haven’t been home in fucking years!” Avery exclaims.

Jane sighs. “Look, you’re really being too over dramatic about this. We can put everything aside for just one day this year.”

“No, I really don’t think we can.”

“Honey, we’re trying our best, okay? I don’t know what else you want from us.”

“I wanted you to love me, mom. I really don’t know why that’s so hard! And you’ve had so many other chances to fix this, and I’m not going to pretend like nothing is going on.”

“Your father said you would be inconsiderate, but I really hoped for better.”

“I really don’t see how I’m the inconsiderate one,” Avery says bitterly. “Look, I’m not coming home and I probably won’t ever come home. Not unless you genuinely get over the fact that you can’t love a daughter who isn’t straight.”

“Avery, you take that back right now!” Jane yells. “Your father and I still love, despite everything.”

“You know what, I’m fucking over this! Don’t call me again,” Avery spits out.

With that, Avery hangs up without bothering to hear what her mom has to say. Jane calls her five more times, and sends countless texts, leaving Avery to ignore them all. She wasn’t expecting to feel so angry over her mom calling, but it’s hard to not feel that way after everything that’s happened. After everything - the screaming and yelling, followed by years of silence - have only led Avery to feel bitter when thinking about her parents.

When Luna comes home, Avery is laying face first on the couch, and doesn’t bother to move. A few minutes later, Luna is tapping her shoulder, and hands over a cup of tea. Smiling a little, Avery sits up and takes it. It’s a small gesture, but she knows that Luna is doing what she can.

“Want to talk about it?” Luna inquires. “Mom left a million voicemails and texts, but I didn’t bother to look at any of them. I knew it’d probably be something dumb, especially considering we haven’t had a real conversation in a very long time.”

“Just...she wanted me to come home for Christmas, said I shouldn’t be spending the day by myself,” Avery explains. “Told her we already had plans together.”

Luna snorts. “God, I can’t believe the audacity she has. But it doesn’t surprise me too much that she tried to convince you to come back home and act like nothing happened. Probably getting asked too many questions now that you’ve graduated.”

“Look at me, continuing to shatter the perfect family picture she’s always wanted,” Avery jokes, despite the exhaustion coming through.

“Why don’t you go to bed? I don’t mind doing dinner by myself, and you probably need the rest.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” she sighs.

The next few days feel weird, with Avery being caught between the chaos of work and the intensity of Jane not leaving her alone. She knows she should probably block Jane’s number, but she also doesn’t want to think about the shit that’ll start up. Thankfully, Luna doesn’t make her talk about beyond what she wants to say, knowing that Avery will talk when she’s ready to.

Tyson swings by the store one day on Avery’s lunch break with food in tow. She hasn’t seen him since her fight with Jane, so she does her best to act normal. Even though Avery knows she can tell Tyson anything, she still feels nervous telling him about it. Right now doesn’t feel like it’s a great time either, not with how little they’ve been able to see each other.

“I missed you,” Tyson says softly, before giving Avery a quick kiss. “Mind if I eat with you?”

“You know I don’t mind,” Avery replies, smiling. “So, what all have I missed?”

“Not much, if I’m being honest. I decided to fly my family down for Christmas since that’s easier than me trying to visit them. The three day break is just too short,” Tyson explains.

“I’m glad you get to see them,” Avery says.

“What about you? I know you said Luna is working.”

“We just decided to work around it as best we can. Family is, uh, too busy to visit.”

Tyson frowns. “That’s a shame.”

“It’s not that big of a deal. Luna is going to be here, and that’s good enough for me,” Avery says, shrugging.

“Maybe we can do something on Christmas Eve. Luna isn’t going into the hospital until late, right?”

“I don’t want to take up your family time. You only get three days with them.”

“Yeah, but I think it would be nice, especially if it’s just going to be the two of you.”

“I’ll ask her tonight if you’re sure.”

“I’m most definitely sure. And I know that they’d all be happy to meet you,” Tyson says, smiling. “I know my mom and sister have lots of plant questions, anyways.”

“Oh, well, I can definitely help with that,” Avery replies, laughing. 

During the rest of lunch, Avery does her best to make sure Tyson doesn’t notice that she’s feeling a little off. She doesn’t want to ruin the mood by bringing up her mom. It doesn’t feel right, and it’s not really something she feels ready to bring up quite yet. Eventually, she’ll have to say something, especially as their relationship gets more serious. For now, though, it can wait a little bit longer.

When Avery gets to her apartment complex, she grabs the mail before heading up to her place. As she sorts through the mail, she notices a letter addressed to her from an address she hasn’t seen in a long time. Her blood runs cold, knowing that this is just another attempt from her mom to reach out. Even though Avery knows better than to open it, she does it anyways once she gets to the safety of her own room.

Dearest Avery,

You must know that what I do is purely out of love for you. Every sacrifice your father and I made for you to have a better life was because we love you. You’ll always be our daughter, even if we aren’t comfortable with all of your choices. All we want is to see you during the holidays and reconnect, and become a family once again.

There is no need to be angry over one conversation so many years ago. It’s not healthy to be bitter over this, especially when it concerns family. Ignoring your father and I will not make anything better. So please come home, and we promise there will be no talk of any past choices.

Love,

Your mother

As Avery finishes reading the letter, she feels tears streaming down her face. Despite everything, her mom still can’t understand why she feels so angry. It’s always been about ignoring the reality of the situation and pretending like things never happened. This is the final straw, though. 

It hurts, but she can feel herself come to accept that it’s time to truly cut her mom out of her life. There was always a small part of Avery that hoped that things would get better, and it would probably always be there, no matter how much she wants it to disappear. But the likelihood of that happening now isn’t worth keeping any line of contact open. 

“Avery?” Luna asks quietly, poking her head into Avery’s room. “What happened?”

“Just...mom sent a letter,” Avery answers softly, holding the letter out.

Luna skims through it quickly, frowning. “Well, glad I have even more reason to never go home again. At least I have you to do holiday stuff with.”

“Yeah, that’s not too bad, I guess,” Avery says. “Oh! That reminds me. Tyson wanted to know if you wanted to do Christmas Eve with his family this year.”

“He wants to do Christmas with us? Doesn’t he only have like...three days off?”

Avery smiles as she wipes away the last of her tears. “Yeah, he said that he wanted to spend time with us and he knows that it’s just the two of us.”

“I guess I can’t say no to that,” Luna sighs. “But are you seriously okay? This is a lot.”

“I really am, I promise,” Avery says. “I’m angry, but I swear I’m okay.”

“If you say so,” Luna replies, frowning.

“Look, I get to spend time with you, Tyson, and his family,” Avery says, smiling and laughing a little. It’s been a long time since we’ve gotten to do proper holidays, you know?”

Luna gives her a look. “I haven’t seen you smile like that in a while. It’s a good look on you.”

“I mean...I - he just makes me happy,” Avery replies, flustered. “But you didn’t answer the question.”

“If he doesn’t mind, then yeah, it would be really nice,” Luna says. “You know, it’s a shame that the fire alarms here are so sensitive, otherwise I’d suggest burning the letter.”

Avery lets out a sharp laugh. “That would definitely be satisfying. I guess we can just throw it in the trash.”

“Not as satisfying, but I suppose it works,” Luna sighs dramatically.

                                                     EPILOGUE

Spending Christmas Eve with Tyson’s family was better than anything Avery expected. It’s been so long since either she or Luna have spent any holiday with their family that both of them feel completely overwhelmed. Even though Tyson said that they didn’t need to bring anything for dinner, they still brought a couple of pies for dessert, feeling like it’s the least they could do for intruding on family time.

“How many times do I have to keep telling you that you’re not intruding?” Tyson says, rolling his eyes. “I want you here and my family is excited to meet both of you.”

“I know, it still feels like a lot, though,” Avery replies quietly. 

“Is Tyson bothering you too much?” Kacey asks, walking into the kitchen. “Because if so, I have plenty of questions about the plant you sent me.”

“Oh, sure, I can do my best to help,” Avery answers.

Talking with Kacey helps calm a lot of Avery’s nerves, managing to fall into familiar territory. She’s not sure how much time passes, but before Avery knows it, it’s time for dinner. Surprisingly, she and Luna are folded into conversations fairly easily. As much as she might not want to admit it, Avery missed having dinners like this, being surrounded by people she truly enjoyed the company of. 

Before Avery knows it, she and Luna are headed back to their apartment. The whole day felt wonderful, and she knows that it’ll be something that she remembers for a long time. Despite that, she knows that for most people, a dinner like that is unremarkable because their family has always been there for them. She knows that Tyson falls under that umbrella, and she doesn’t think he’d notice how wistful Avery felt the whole night.

However, he does bring it up when they’re making dinner in his apartment only a week later. 

“So, um, you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to, but was everything okay during Christmas? You just seemed...not sad, that’s not the right word. I guess you just seemed a little bit off,” Tyson says. 

Avery shrugs, trying to act nonchalant. “It’s just been a while since I’ve done a family dinner. I didn’t go home during the holidays in university and I wanted to stay with Luna this year.”

“And you didn’t go home...because you didn’t want to go home? Or it just didn’t work out that way?” Tyson inquires. 

“I didn’t want to,” Avery whispers. “My mom and dad...they’ve been angry about me being bi for a long time. They said it ruined their family image, whatever the fuck that means.”

“Shit - why did you never tell me?”

Avery sighs. “I was planning on telling you, the time just never felt right. It’s such a weird thing to say and bring up. Like surprise, I don’t get along with my family! And I guess I felt like you might take it the wrong way as well, even though I know you don’t care.”

“I wish you would have told me so that I could have been there for you. We’re in this life together now, and I want to do whatever I can to make things better for you.”

“I’ve just been hiding it for so long that it’s weird to talk about,” Avery chokes out, holding back tears. 

“Babe,” Tyson whispers, before pulling her into a tight hug. “I’m here for you no matter what. You don’t have to say any more, not until you’re ready.”

“Thank you,” Avery replies softly. “This is a nice hug, but you should let go, otherwise the veggies are going to burn.”

Tyson lets out a laugh. “Okay, okay, point taken.”

When he pulls back, Avery smiles softly. Even though she knows Tyson would take everything in stride, it still feels nice knowing that he’s there for her and isn’t forcing her to say more than she wants to. One day she’ll tell him the whole story, but that can wait for another day. For right now, she wants to just enjoy this moment here with him.

[celosiaa]

you were my friend, and I was the same

Summary: What if Basira had taken Helen’s door, leaving Jon to kill Daisy himself?

Episode tag for what might have been, post MAG 179. Thanks to @morelikeazirafailamirite for this idea!

Word count: 1214

CW: MAG 179 SPOILERS, blood, injury, canonical character death

“Let me go, please D—ahh—”

“Jon!”

Eyes blazing, teeth painted crimson with the blood of the Archivist, the thing-that-once-was-Daisy digs further and further into his leg and shoulder—spilling more of Jon onto the ground beneath them with every passing moment.  And Martin—what could Martin do?  What good could his knife—small and shaking in his hand—do against this monstrosity, this abomination that had once been Jon’s friend?

“J-Jon, what—what can I do?”

“I’m—ahh—I’m sorry,” he grits out between his teeth, even as his eyes go electric green, beginning to spill over the edges—with ink, or blood, Martin will never be sure.  

“W-what are you doing?”

“I’m sorry, Daisy.”

Boom.

—

When next he opens his eyes, Martin finds himself crumpled on the ground, ears ringing loud enough to deafen him, blinking in the…

Red light?

…oh fuck fuck fuck fuck

Quickly bringing himself up to his hands and knees, he scans the room dizzily for Jon—finding him lying motionless on the ground, surrounded by what must be Daisy’s remains coating the walls, the ceiling, the light fixtures—

Everything but Jon himself.

No remains have touched him—but the blood blossoming over his shoulder and leg, the way his eyes have closed in what has become such a rare event since this all began—all of it speaks to a hurt Martin had no longer thought possible for him to suffer.

“Jon—oh shit,” he gasps, rising a bit unsteadily to his feet, barely able to hear his own voice beyond the ringing.

No no no please no

His knees slam into the ground as he reaches Jon’s side, pulling off his jacket at once to staunch the flow of his wounded leg—the pressure he places there drawing a low moan from him that Martin sees more than hears.

“Jon!  Hey hey hey, are you with me?” he pleads in as calm a voice as he can manage, patting at his arm in an attempt to rouse him.

As if powered on by a switch, his eyes slide open—more like panels than eyelids, really—the absynthian glow of them reflecting against the deep crimson still spilling across his shoulder and chest as blinks once, twice.  And then he’s gasping heavily, very nearly jerking upright in panic, had Martin’s hand not been carefully pressed against his uninjured shoulder.

“Woah woah, alright just—just stay down, okay?” Martin soothes as best as he can, knowing his voice shakes with every word after seeing the tears pooling in Jon’s eyes—from pain, or grief, or perhaps both.  “You’re—you’re bleeding pretty badly—but I’ve got you, alright?”

“Martin—ahh,” he chokes, gritting his teeth again through the pain as Martin presses further into his leg.

“Sorry, sorry.  I-I’ve got to keep pressure.”

“I know, I—I’m sorry,” he says quietly, just barely loud enough for Martin to hear past the fading ringing of his ears.

“You alright?” Martin asks rather desperately, hoping against hope that Jon will just heal, that they’ll just be able to stand up and leave this place behind.

But Jon’s eyes tell of a different reality—as the glow fades, and they return to their beautiful deep brown—Martin knows that he is beyond spent.  Heavy with grief.

With guilt.

“Jon, you—you did what you had to.  What Basira couldn’t,” he says, and of course Jon already knows this, but…Martin is more than well-used to the ways Jon justifies his own hurt.  “Listen, you—you need to keep pressure on that leg while I sort this…”

“Okay.”

After guiding Jon to sitting, ensuring he will stay upright, he works silently for a while—bringing bandages and cloths from his pack to press against the shoulder. Which barely seems to have healed at all, baffling Martin more than any of the mess surrounding them.

“She was—“ Jon begins after a few minutes of this, pausing to swallow the lump in his throat.  

Face lined with worry, Martin glances up from his task to look at him.

“We were friends there, sort of, near the end.”

“…oh, Jon.”

“We went through so much and it just… I wish I could have actually said goodbye.”

And once again, Martin finds himself at a loss.  He has always known that he and Jon see things differently, that Jon sees so much of himself in every monster that he cannot help but have pity.  No matter what it has cost him.  No matter what it will continue to cost him, Jon will choose mercy…but now?  Now he had just been forced to kill what was left of his friend—the one person who had been there for him when Martin had not.

When I turned my back on him.

…stop it.

“Hey, hey—look at me,” he murmurs, cupping Jon’s face as gently as possible with how badly his hands still shake—thumbing away the tears that begin to fall, each one deepening the ache in his chest.

“We said our goodbyes to Daisy after the institute.  This was just…this was just dealing with all the stuff she left behind.”

“I suppose,” he whispers, looking away at once as tears continue their silent cascade over the sharp ridges of his face.

Clearly, this has brought him no comfort—strengthening an ever-growing suspicion in Martin’s mind.

“Are you—is this why you’re not healing?” he asks, desperate to be wrong.  “What you said before—about people only getting what hurts them the most here—is that why she was able to hurt you?

“I…I don’t—“

“You do know.”

The look Jon gives him now—though wordless and full of pain—gives him all the answer he needs.

“Darling, please,” Martin continues, wanting more than anything to pull him into a hug, but settling for cradling his hand instead.  “Please—you have to let yourself heal.  This—this isn’t your fault, none of it is.”

“Isn’t it?”  comes the whispered reply, broken and trembling, shattering Martin’s heart with its force.

“No.  None of this is.  You—you had to do this.  I-I may not have known Daisy like you did, but—but this wasn’t her.  Not anymore, right?”

Please heal, Jon. Please.

Please.

When Jon lets his eyes fall closed again, Martin rushes to brace him with a small cry—but even as he looks on, the incessant flow from his wounds begins to slow, the holes she had torn through him starting to knit back together as he begins to mend.

“Oh thank god, thank god, thank god,” Martin sighs with relief, pulling Jon into his chest at once, no longer fearing to cause more bleeding.  “You alright?  Jon?”

As he holds him there, shoulders still so thin against his own, the only reply that comes is a steadily growing shaking—wracking down Jon’s entire frame.

“Oh, love,” Martin murmurs worriedly, turning to press a kiss against his still-damp cheek.  

“S-she was—my friend,” is all he can manage to get out past the sobs, driven hard by the waves of shock still running through him.

“I’m so sorry, Jon. I’m so sorry,” he whispers into his hair, pressing kiss after kiss there, before leaning his cheek on top.

“I’ve got you.  I’ve got you.”

[ironmariposa]

(I’ll be your) Sanctuary

Pepper watches as Tony comes to terms with Peter being gone.

Found on Ao3

Tony swipes the glass of water off his tray and it shatters against the wall.

“Jesus.” Happy says shaking his head as he leaves the room to presumably get something to clean up the mess.

Pepper for her part hasn’t moved an inch, “Feel better?” she asks with a touch of sarcasm.

“Not at all. Fuck!” He slams his hands down on the tray and then brushed it aside with a crash as well, “What were they thinking? What the fuck were they thinking?”

“I don’t know.” Pepper whispers as she sits on the edge of his bed, reaching out a hand to brush over his leg. A lazy show of comfort they both know, but still effective as the anger inside of him calms.

“They weren’t. They weren’t thinking at all and now…” Tony’s breath hitches as tears fill his eyes and slide down his cheeks. Pepper freezes, she can count on one hand the number of times she has seen Tony cry. Eleven years with this man and only one hand.

“Now my only chance to get him back is gone.” He drops his face in his hands as the door cracks open and Happy sticks his head in, Pepper shakes her head at him and he just as quietly leaves, “My kid is gone and I don’t know how to… I don’t… Oh God, Oh God.”

Pepper slides up the bed and grabs the back of Tony’s neck, pulling him to her, she says the only word that has ever helped him during past panic attacks. “Breath.”

He attempts a deep breath but it catches in his throat and she rubs his neck then slides her hand down his back, “Okay try again. With me. In.” And she sucks in a loud breath then “Out.” She slowly lets it out. He manages a few deep breaths before settling back against the bed.

Sliding out of her shoes, Pepper climbs up beside him, tucking his head against her chest, “Just breathe with me.”

His first breath hitches but eventually his breathing settles enough that he falls asleep.

“I’m pregnant.”

Tony’s eyes widen and he drops the toothbrush, “You’re?”

Pepper gives him a half smile, “Pregnant. I didn’t know it at the time you asked, before..” she waves her hand, “but you obviously did.”

He silently stares over her shoulder and she tries to stop herself from saying it but the words just fly out, “I’m so sorry.”

That jerks him back to her and he steps to her, pulling her into his arms, “Whatever for?”

She has her face tucked into that spot between his neck and shoulder, it’s one of her favorites. She breathes in deeply and regardless of him going to space and nearly dying on her, he still smells the same. “I just know this isn’t the best time to announce a pregnancy. We’re all grieving. You’re grieving the loss of a child.”

Tony inhales sharply, “He wasn’t..”

Pepper pulls back and reaches up to hold his face in her hands, her eyes searching his, “He was Tony. He very much was in all ways but one. Don’t deny yourself that. He was your kid and you’re allowed to grieve as any father would. I know,” Pepper chokes on her words as tears fill both of their eyes, “Peter would agree and so would May.”

His hand tangles in her hair as he pulls her back to him and hides his face in her hair, “How is she? Have you talked to her.”

“No. But Happy is with her now. He’ll let us know.”

They’re quiet for so long as he holds her against him. Her arms are curled around his back and she grips his shirt. She has moments where she remembers just how close she was to losing him. And this is the only thing that anchors her. His touch. His scent.

Pepper’s not a genius. Not in the ways that Tony, Rhodey or even Peter is, was, but she knows what Tony is considering.

She catches him standing in the room's doorway for the third time and approaches him quietly. Brushing her fingers over his back.

She lets him know she’s okay with it one night as they lay in the dark, his arms wrapped around her from behind, his fingers splayed over her stomach, “We can make it his room.” His fingers freeze but he doesn’t respond, and she covers his hand with hers, “you know just in case he…”

He pulls away from her, rolling into his back and covering his eyes with his arm. Slowly, she rolls over to face him.

“He’s not.” his voice is rough.

“I don’t one hundred percent believe that.” She whispers, “between you and Cap and the others, you’ll figure something out.”

“Doubtful.”

Pepper sighs. Tony has so many moods and she knows them all, including this one. It’s his stubborn, I’ve given up on the world mood. It usually doesn't last long but also things have never been this bad.

“I love you.” She kisses his cheek and lays her head on his chest. She’s nearly asleep when she feels his arm move from his eyes to wrap around her side.

“Love you too.” He mumbles into her hair.

Pepper remembers the first time she met Peter. It was the night before their engagement party and she had come home to Tony and a kid asleep on the couch with a movie playing on the screen. The two of them weren’t touching or close by any means but they were both turned to one another. As if in sleep it had come naturally. Pepper knew Peter had been spending more time at the compound with Tony in the lab. But this was the first she knew of them spending time outside of the lab. She also knew Tony was growing more and more fond of the kid. When he was interested in something he never stopped talking about it and lately it had been “The kid this” and “The kid that.”

The next morning as she watched Peter and Tony verbally banter as they made breakfast, she had a vision of having a kid with Tony for the first time ever.

Rhodey helps with the nursery. They find out they’re having a girl. Pepper is silently relieved. She’s not sure how Tony would handle having a boy so soon after Peter. They both agree on naming her Morgan.

They decide to have a quiet wedding by the lake. Just the two of them with Rhodey as their ordained minister. Happy and May as their witnesses.

“He should be here for this.” She hears Tony say as May hugs him. She just shushes him as her hand slides up his back. Pepper turns away to smile at what Rhodey and Happy are talking about.

Natasha and Bruce show up a month before Morgan is due. Pepper stops them with a stare from the front porch.

“How is he?” Nat asks her and Pepper doesn’t answer.

Bruce wrings his hands, “We’re just worried about him Pep. Wanted to make sure you both were okay since we haven’t heard from you.”

She is fond of both Avengers. But she loves her husband more. So she sends them away without them seeing Tony or him seeing them. She reassures them they are all fine.

Morgan is born into the world on a dark, warm night. Pepper had been having contractions most of the day but she keeps it to herself until they start to settle into their evening routine. Most nights they sit together on their front porch swing, talking, reading, eating desert. It's then that she finally turns to Tony and says the words.

“It’s time.”

The words don’t seem to break through his thoughts right away. He just hums and settles onto the swing. She waits for a moment. Two, when it happens. He’s up and out of the seat in a flash, his eyes wide as he repeats her words.

They meet Helen at the local hospital and all goes smoothly. They’re home with their daughter a day later.

Happy and Rhodey visit first and don’t ever really leave for very long. They have their own rooms downstairs, Pepper and Tony like having them there. May comes and she holds Morgan for so long, Pepper gets her first full night of rest. She wakes up both her back and breasts aching.

When Morgan is three months, Nebula, the blue alien Tony says saved his life while in space, visits but she refuses to hold Morgan. Just stares down at her until Morgan flashes Nebula her first real smile. When they all stop celebrating Nebula runs a single blue finger over Morgan’s dark head of hair. “She favors your son.”

Pepper looks to Tony to see a gentle, easy smile on his face. And May sniffles, “I know it’s not possible, but she does.”

At six months Tony starts telling Morgan Spiderman bedtime stories. He cries every night after putting her down but soon he’s able to get through a night without tears. Pepper isn’t sure if it’s an accomplishment or not.

At nine months she starts walking. Surprising all of them but Tony or May. “I was the same.” He says and May smiles softly, “Same with Peter.”

Pepper just holds her arms out to their daughter and laughs as Happy follows closely behind her.

At a year old, Morgan has a long list of words including her favorites, “Mama, Dada, Unc and May.” All her very favorite people.

They have a small party for her out by the lake. Tony shows up with an Alpaca.

“How the hell is that a birthday present?” Happy protests and Pepper agrees but she just shakes her head. Because it’s Tony.

He laughs and laughs at her reaction. His laugh she hadn’t heard in so, so long.

And finally Pepper thinks, they’re okay.

[hale-13]

Dazed and Confused

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 21 - Panic (Thanks @spideyhoarder for the prompt!)

“I’ll be okay,” he croaks out hoarsely with weak smile. May gives him a look like she doesn’t believe him and Peter tries to make his expression even more earnest. He, actually, really doesn’t want her to go but he knows that they can’t afford her to miss this shift since she’s already used all her PTO on his Spider-Man related hospital stays. Things have been a little tight lately and, even though May is careful not to talk to Peter about money much, he knows that one shift could make or break them.

Words: 2301, Chapters: 1/1 (Complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & May Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, May Parker, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Helen Cho

TW: Vomiting, Fainting

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay baby,” May asked him for the fifth time, combing his wet bangs back from his forehead and surreptitiously checking his fever with the cool palm of her hand. Peter fights against the inclination to push his head further into her hand.

“I’ll be okay,” he croaks out hoarsely with weak smile. May gives him a look like she doesn’t believe him and Peter tries to make his expression even more earnest. He, actually, really doesn’t want her to go but he knows that they can’t afford her to miss this shift since she’s already used all her PTO on his Spider-Man related hospital stays. Things have been a little tight lately and, even though May is careful not to talk to Peter about money much, he knows that one shift could make or break them.

“Alright,” May says dubiously, looking torn and guilty about leaving him. “If you start feeling any worse I want you to have the desk page me okay? Promise me Peter.”

“I will,” Peter promised, crossing his fingers under his sheets. There was no way that he would pull her from work. Literally none.

“Okay,” May says still looking guilty and Peter hates it. Hates that its just the two of them now, hates that May overworks herself, hates that he makes her worry about him. She leans forward to pull him into a soft hug and Peter returns it, mindful of his strength and a little misty eyed – fevers always make him emotional. “I love you. Get some sleep; I left plenty of water and Gatorade on your nightstand and there’s soup in the crock pot for lunch. Eat some of it okay?”

“I will May,” Peter agrees, releasing her and pulling back even though he doesn’t want to. Even though all he wants is to cuddle up next to her on the couch and watch cartoons like he did when he was eight and sick and miserable. “You need to go or you’ll be late,” Peter says with a smile and May runs her hands through his hair one more time before standing from the bed.

“Love you,” she repeats as she leaves the room. He hears her grab her bag and then the sound of the door closing, her footsteps fading into the distance and Peter relaxes back against his bed with a sigh and glances at the alarm clock next to him.

Thirteen hours. He can make it thirteen hours.

———————————————

Peter can’t make it thirteen hours.

He gags again, leaning over the toilet to dry heave and feels tears of effort and frustration leak down his cheeks. God he feels so awful.

The fit subsides and Peter collapses back to lean against the tub. The cramped single bathroom in their Queens apartment smells like stale bile and Peter grimaces as it turns his stomach, grabbing his water bottle to rinse out his mouth. It’s only just after ten and Peter has no idea how he’s going to make it until nine in the evening, he can tell his fever is rising and he’s feeling so much worse. The Advil that he had taken that morning is doing absolutely nothing for him and Peter just wants to cry.

He should call May. He can’t call May.

He can call Mr. Stark.

“No,” Peter says, shaking his head vigorously to clear it and making his headache throb worse, the room spinning and leaving him dizzy. There’s no way he can ask Tony Stark, Iron Man, his hero since he was a kid to rub his back while he vomits and get him soup. It’s way too embarrassing.

“This is fine,” Peter says, pinching his eyes shut and swallowing convulsively against the rising nausea. “I’m fine,” he gags, leaning over again to dry heave.

Eleven more hours. He can do that.

———————————————

The subway is bright and loud and full of people. Peter sways with the movement and tries to remember how he got here.

He’s freezing, the thin hoodie jacket, sweats and beat up tennis shoes doing nothing to block out the October chill that’s seeping through the underground. He feels sweat beading the back of his neck and face, chilling him more and making him shiver weakly. The smartly dressed business woman sitting across from him is eyeing him with distaste and Peter hunches in on himself.

How did he get here? Where is he going?

May?

No. Not May. May’s working.

Then where…?

He lets his eyes slip closed. The swirling of his vision and the movement of the subway car are making him want to vomit again and he can’t do that. There’s nothing more pathetic than vomiting on the train.

Also it’ll probably get him kicked off. So.

He drifts.

Stark Tower looms over him and Peter sways, dizzy and confused. Why is he here? What is he doing?

The crowds of people walking on the sidewalk – on their way to lunch or meetings or whatever it is that business people do – swerve around him with irritation and Peter stumbles when one smacks him with their elbow.

Is it a lab day? What day is it? He’s so tired, he wants to sleep.

He has a bed in Mr. Stark’s penthouse Peter remembers. Mr. Stark got him a whole room once Peter started hanging around more often, surely the man won’t mind if he uses it for a quick nap?

The fluorescent lights of the elevator burn his retinas and Peter squints. When did he get here?

“Hello Peter,” FRIDAY’s disembodied voice echos through the elevator car. “You seem to have a temperature, do you want me to let Boss know you’re here?”

Does he want Mr. Stark to know he’s here? Yeah he does. He wants someone to take care of him – he’s so tired and he feels awful and he can’t do this alone what was he thinking?

“No,” his voice is quiet and broken from all the vomiting and from not drinking and it hurts to talk holy shit. He clears his throat once and winces, gripping tightly onto the rail that runs around the car and grimacing when he feels it warp. He didn’t mean to do that. He’ll fix it.

FRIDAY’s silence is telling and judge mental and Peter has things he wants to say about that, many things actually, but he doesn’t. He kinda feels like vomiting again so he needs to keep his mouth closed.

The elevator stops on the penthouse floor and Peter stumbles out, listing into the wall and panting as he exits. He’s got this – his room is just down the hall. He can make it.

The floor tilts threateningly in front of his eyes and he keeps both hands on the wall as he walks down the hallway. He’s so close. He can’t give up now. The door to his room is closed and it takes some doing but he gets the door open; the room is dark, the windows opaque and blotting out the weak morning sunlight. His bed is still in disarray from the last time he stayed over and it looks so inviting.

Peter lets go of the wall to walk in the room.

His vision tilts again and starts to grey and tunnel and he stops dead where he’s standing to sway in place.

Oh he’s definitely going to pass out.

“FRI…”

It’s all he gets out before the floor rushes up to meet him.

—————————————

“Penthouse FRI,” Tony says brusquely as he boards his private elevator, loosening his tie and popping the top button of his white dress shirt as he goes. There’s nothing he hates more than pointless budgeting meetings except for long pointless budgeting meetings that ruin his whole day.

The car starts to move and Tony goes to lean against the railing; the metal in his left hand is the smooth, burnished steel he is used to but the left side… He glances down and see the railing is warped and bent, clearly in the shape of a hand and he frowns.

“What happened here?” He asks himself, running his index finger over the blemish curiously. Oh well. He can easily ix it and he can look through the video footage later to see how it happened but his money is on the kid. The only problem with this theory is that if Peter did this he would have been falling all over himself to apologize and he’d be trying to fix it himself.

Strange.

The elevator opens to the penthouse and Tony steps out, pulling of his tie fully and allowing it to drape around his shoulders loosely. Something feels off and he can’t quite put his finger on what; whatever it is warrants further investigation but he wants to change first – his workshop jeans are calling his name.

The hallway is darkened as he makes his way to the room he shares with Pepper except for a square of light from Peter’s doorway. Tony frowns – he’s sure the door was closed this morning?

Quickening his pace, he approaches the door and peers in the room.

Peter’s laid out limp on the floor just inside the doorway, limbs sprawled out and face pale except his cheeks which are bright red with fever and his nose which is purpling and bloody from where he clearly hit it passing out.

“Shit!” Tony says, dropping to the floor next to the kid and rolling him onto his side in the recovery position. He’s positively burning, sweating through his clothes and matting his hair to his skull. “FRI how long’s the kid been here?” He asks as he checks Peter’s pulse (rapid and thready) and breathing (congested).

“Two hours,” she responds. “He didn’t want me to alert you he was here.”

“Update that protocol dear,” he snaps at her, moving Peter’s bangs out of his face. “And call down to Bruce and Helen in the MedBay to let them know the situation. Can I move him?”

“He should be safe to move”,” FRIDAY tells him, “Dr.’s Banner and Cho are preparing for you now.”

“This is going to be so bad for my back,” Tony grouses to the unconscious kid as he rolls Peter fully onto his back and slips one arm under his back and the other under his knees. He takes a deep breath and lifts, stumbling a little – the wiry and corded muscles Peter developed from the bite are heavy.

The elevator ride to the MedBay thankfully is quick and, soon, Tony is dropping Peter gently onto one of the beds and stepping back as Bruce and Helen converge on him, setting up monitors and sticking a thermometer under his tongue.

Bruce hisses at the thermometer readout when he pulls it from Peter’s slack jaw. “One hundred and four point one,” he declares, stripping Peter’s hoodie off and leaving the kid in just his sweats and a loose t-shirt. “We need to get him cooled down before he boils his brain.”

“How did he even get here?” Helen asks, confused, as she sets up an IV catheter and a bag of plasmalyte.

“Kid’s stubborn,.” Tony says sardonically as he scrolls through his phone for May Parker’s contact info – he’s willing to bet a few billion that she has no idea that he kid decided to go on a unapproved field trip today. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Probably the flu,” Helen says as she places the catheter and starts running the fluids. “It’s been going around and the strain is particularly awful this year.”

“Great,” Tony says, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “I’ve got to call his aunt.”

Tony just hopes that the tentative rapport he’s built up with May over the past few months will prevent her from gutting him when she finds out her kid was under his roof for two hours without him noticing.

—————————————————

When Peter wakes up he feels loads better. The ache in his head is subsiding and everything feels more clear, sharper somehow. He takes a deep breath and lets out a sigh, the nausea’s gone.

“You awake kiddo?”A voice asks next to him and Peter’s eyes shoot open in panic and, oh shit, Mr. Stark is sitting on one of the uncomfortable MedBay chairs beside his bed with a tablet in his lap and his glasses low on his nose.

“Oh shit,” he says again, out loud this time and his mentor chuckles at him, setting the tablet aside.

“Yeah you’re not wrong,” he agrees with a grin. “Once you’re better you, May and I are having a discussion about self-care.” Peter groans and closes his eyes, throwing an arm across his eyes dramatically and hears Tony snort.

“Sorry,” Peter apologizes, coughing a little as talking irritates his throat and he swallows, trying to wet his throat. Mr. Stark passes him a cup of water and Peter takes it gratefully and sips it slowly, the coolness like ambrosia. “Uh… how did I get here?”

“You took the subway apparently,” Tony says with an eye roll. “Although I have no idea how you got here in one piece – your fever was over a hundred and four. Bruce and Helen say you ‘re lucky you have a healing factor or it could have been much worse. You have the flu by the way.”

“Great,” Peter mutters, picking at the tape covering the IV in his arm and letting out a yawn. He’s so tired.

“Go back to sleep,” Tony tells him, leaning forward to run his fingers through Peter’s hair and lower the bed some so that he’s more reclined. “May won’t be here for a few more hours.”

“Thanks Mr. Stark,” Peter breathes, letting his eyes close. He falls asleep to the even breathing of his mentor sitting vigil next to him.

[ollieofthebeholder]

leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

Read from the beginning on Tumblr || Also on AO3

Chapter 50: Jon

“Do you have anything to declare?” the rather bored-looking man behind the counter asks without looking up from the paperwork.

For a brief second, Jon oscillates between how would you react if I told you what was in my pocket and yes, I declare this to be a complete waste of time, but he’s anxious to get this over with, so he simply says, “No, nothing.”

The man rattles off a few more standard questions, which Jon answers with only about half his attention. His eyes keep wandering over to the gates, just a dozen or so yards away. It’s so close, he’s almost there…

“Right, that’s everything,” the man says at last. He stamps Jon’s passport and pushes it, along with the requisite forms, over the counter. “Welcome to London. Next!”

Jon moves towards the down escalators, awkwardly attempting to stuff the papers back into his bag as he walks. Well, technically walks. He’s moving at a fast clip that doesn’t quite count as a run but could probably keep up with one. Part of his brain wanders off down the path of linguistics and semantics, trying to figure out what distinguishes a run from a fast walk, but most of it is preoccupied with what’s on the other side of those gates. Through the portal, down the stairs, outside and to the Tube station; he’s not thrilled about it, actually, but under the circumstances, it’s the best he’s going to be able to do.

Damn Julia for destroying his phone. Again. Nowhere has pay phones anymore, either. God, they’re going to be so worried, he promised to check in and he didn’t and now he’s a whole day overdue from what he originally said would be the latest he’d be back. The trains should be running, even this early, he should be able to get home before they have to leave for the Institute, and if he doesn’t he can just go the rest of the way to the Institute and meet them there…

He’s tired, he’s jet-lagged, he’s stressed. He’s used up too much of himself, given in to the Eye more than he should, and it’s overwhelming. He’s learned virtually nothing useful on this trip and he just wants to be home. He feels like he could sleep for a week. Or at least like he wants to.

When this is all over, he promises himself. When it’s all over, after the Unknowing, if Elias is still around, Jon will insist on vacation time for himself and his team members. They need the downtime, and Jon won’t lie, the idea of getting to spend a few weeks with just Martin and Tim is appealing. For the moment, though, he’ll have to settle for a few hours.

He would dearly love to take the day off. But Elias has made it clear that he wants them to think time is of the essence, so he can’t tip his hand and stay out too long. Maybe they can come in late. On second thought, though—he glances quickly at the outsize clock on the wall—he’s not going to make it home in time for much more than a quick nap, if that, before they have to leave. Maybe he should just go straight to the Institute, use the phone in the Archives to call and say he’s back, and curl up on the cot he still keeps in the storage room. He can at least get some rest, maybe—

“Jon! Jon!”

Jon’s head jerks up and whips around. He doesn’t have any checked luggage, so he just kept going and he’s crossed the line from the passengers-only area to the public area, but he hasn’t been paying attention to much around him. There’s a bit of a crowd, but not so much of one he can’t see Tim and Martin watching him from a few yards away.

Jon breaks into a run, never taking his eyes off of the two people he’s wanted most to see as they do the same towards him. He somehow manages to avoid tripping on a small child dragging a rolling suitcase and flings himself into their arms.

For the first time in almost two weeks, he feels some of the tension leave his body. Martin is soft, Tim is solid, both of them are warm, and he’s safe here. The song the Primes danced to, the night the three of them moved into their house, floats through his head, and he clings to Tim and Martin and inhales the scent he’s come to associate with home. For a long time, they just stand there clutching one another.

“Melanie’s right,” he says at last. “Jet lag sucks.”

Tim and Martin both laugh, a little desperately. Jon laughs, too, and looks up. Martin has at least a day’s worth of stubble growing on his chin and Tim’s shirt is inside out. It looks like they just rolled out of bed and came straight for the airport, or…oh, God. “Tell me you two haven’t been sitting here waiting for me since yesterday.”

“We thought about it, but no,” Tim assures him. “The Primes called and said you’d be coming in this morning.”

“We got them one of those throwaway phones,” Martin adds. “Honestly, we should’ve done that a long time ago, but…it’s a long story. We’ll tell you about it when you’ve had a chance to get some rest. You look exhausted.”

“So do you.” Jon looks from Martin to Tim and back again. “I’m sure we can take a half-day without anyone getting too upset. Do you think Sasha and Melanie will handle things for us?”

“Sasha owes us,” Tim says. He eases back but keeps one arm around Jon; Martin does the same. Jon shifts his arms so they’re behind Tim and Martin’s waists. “She’s taken a fair bit of time off these last couple weeks—and it’s for good reason, so don’t think I’m saying otherwise. But she owes us. I’m sure she’ll hold down the fort for a couple hours.”

“I’ll text Melanie when we get to the car and see what she says,” Martin offers.

They walk out of the terminal together and to where Tim has parked his car. Jon half-expects they’ll talk on the way home, but they don’t; he really is exhausted and he can tell they’re tired, too, so the ride is made in silence. None of them speak when they get to the house, either. They just head inside, where Tim and Martin pull Jon into the bedroom and none of them really bother to change into their sleep clothes, just shuck their outer layers and collapse into bed together.

Jon is plagued by his usual nightmares, plus a couple new ones, but honestly, at this point he’s used to them. He wakes up abruptly, but not screaming, and is momentarily disorientated by the brightness of the room and the awareness of another presence in the bed before he registers that he’s back where he belongs, safe and secure between Martin and Tim. Well, between is stretching it a bit; among might be a better word to use. They’ve somehow managed to end up in a tangled pile of limbs and extremities. Jon’s cheek is pillowed on the soft, warm fleshiness of Martin’s upper arm, his neck fitting easily into Martin’s elbow, and one of Tim’s legs is hooked over Jon’s hip. He normally doesn’t like the sensation of skin against skin, or at least he hasn’t with anyone he’s ever been with, but this feels…right.

Something clicks into place, all at once, and it makes his breath catch in his throat. When he called to talk to Tim and Martin because he needed to hear their voices, he didn’t expect to get so relaxed and comfortable that he stopped thinking before he spoke, and as soon as he heard the words love you both slide out of his mouth he panicked and ended the call before giving them a chance to reply. He’s spent as much of the last three or so days as he can—when he can spare the brainpower for it—turning his feelings over and over and trying to analyze them. He doesn’t doubt he meant those words, but he’s been trying to parse out what he meant by them and what it means for them all. Everything he’s been through between then and now has meant he’s been a bit stressed, a bit on edge, and hasn’t really had a lot of time to think about it clearly.

Now, though, he thinks about the safe and secure feeling he gets when he’s in their arms like this, about the desperate way he’s mentally cried out for both of them every time he’s been in danger, but also about the moments of deep and utter happiness they’ve shared over the last year, the nights they’ve laughed so hard they start crying, the afternoons they’ve spent with Charlie in their kitchen. He thinks about falling out of Helen’s tunnels into their arms and the perfect moment of joy when he saw their faces in the airport. Most poignantly, he thinks of the yawning chasm that seemed to open up the minute he crossed beyond the security barrier when he left London two weeks ago—the empty blackness that separated him from Martin and Tim—and for the first time, everything coalesces into pure certainty.

Love you both. Of course he does. He loves both of them with a depth he’s never felt before, and it scares the hell out of him because he runs the risk of losing them both to what’s coming. At the same time, it fills him with a sense of utter peace, because he has them now.

He wishes they could just stay like this a little longer, but an alarm he hasn’t realized someone set goes off and both Martin and Tim stir with varying noises of dismay. They’ve got to get up, got to get to the Institute. Still, Jon clings to them both for a moment more before, reluctantly, he climbs out of bed to go take a shower.

Tim drives them to work, and none of them argue.

Sasha meets Jon with a huge hug when he walks in. Surprisingly, Melanie offers him one, too. It’s a bit stiff, but it feels genuine, and Jon takes it willingly.

“I’m sorry you’re trapped here,” he tells her. “But for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here.”

Melanie shrugs. “My choice. Maybe one I shouldn’t have made, but still…my choice. Glad I can help. Now tell me what I need to do.”

Jon’s more grateful to her than he can express. Looking around at the Archives, at the assistants, at his family, he can see now what he wouldn’t let himself see before: Sasha’s hunger, Tim’s exhaustion, Martin’s strain. They’re all on edge and they’re all walking a fine line. Melanie hasn’t fallen as hard as they have; she’s still just a regular assistant. Still a bit of an outsider looking in. She’s far enough away from all of this that she can…well, she can’t walk away, but she’s at least not having her soul sucked out of her body with every step she takes. And she’s choosing to be here, choosing to help. She’s someone he can trust to protect his people without reservation or hesitation.

And if what the Primes have said is even half true, which it seems to be, she can probably handle herself almost better than the rest of them.

“For starters, I’d like to hear what you’ve been up to while I’ve been gone,” Jon says. “Then, perhaps, I can tell you what I’ve been up to. We—we need to make plans.”

“War room or downstairs?” Sasha asks. “Either one should be fine. Elias left sick about twenty minutes ago, so we can all convene without him knowing.”

Jon is startled. “How do you know?”

Melanie looks gleeful. “Sasha went up to tell him you were back and that you’d be in later today and all that, and while she had him distracted, I distracted Rosie and mixed laxatives in with the creamer she was putting in his coffee. A lot of laxatives.”

“The whole building heard him, practically.” Sasha smirks. “Rosie wanted to call him an ambulance, but he insisted he’d be fine to get home on his own and that he just needed rest or something like that. I didn’t read his mind,” she adds, evidently catching something in Jon’s expression. “Or hers. Manal told me.”

“See, this is why I drink tea,” Martin says with a straight face.

Jon is torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to scold them both for recklessness. Instead, he says, “If you’re sure…let’s go ahead and do this up here. The seating’s a bit more comfortable.”

Melanie turns on her heel. “I’ll go get them.”

Jon ducks into his office only long enough to grab a couple of things, then joins the others in the War Room. There are a couple of additional pins on the board and a new color of string; considering it stretches from London to Beijing to start bouncing around the States, Jon guesses it’s tracing his journey. The whiteboard has a list of the most common names and places they’ve seen in the statements, with tally marks indicating how many statements they’ve come up with for each, but Sasha begins erasing it with the explanation that they’ve already made a more permanent copy of those notes. They’ve also set up a secondary tea station in the room itself, which Jon appreciates, since it means Martin doesn’t have to be out of his sight for the length of time it would take him to brew tea for them all.

God, the separation anxiety is terrible.

Melanie arrives with the Primes just as Martin finishes up the tea; Jon Prime crosses over to where Jon stands, smiling wanly, and pulls him into a hug. “I hope your trip went better than mine,” he murmurs in Jon’s ear.

“I doubt it,” Jon mutters back. Jon Prime sighs regretfully and lets him go.

He gets a hug from Martin Prime, too, and then they all settle into seats in a rough semicircle around the boards and single desk. Jon brings the mug of tea to his lips and inhales for a moment. Jon Prime is right, it doesn’t taste as good when Martin doesn’t make it. “Right,” he says at last. “Fill me in. What have I missed?”

“Not much, honestly,” Tim says. “A few live statements, Elias being a dick, and…whatever that mess was on Tuesday. But we haven’t been able to find much about the Unknowing.”

Jon is instantly on edge. “Tuesday? What happened on Tuesday?”

“Pick something,” Melanie mutters, with just a bit of an edge to it.

Martin sighs. “Peter Lukas was here.”

“What?” Jon barely manages to stop from dropping his mug. “I-I thought—I thought the deal was that he had to stay away from you.”

“The Institute doesn’t show up in those pictures in the Light, apparently, so there’s no way for the Keeper to actually know he violated the contract,” Martin says. “Unless someone tells him, which, well, if I can figure out how to find him, I’m going to. I got it on tape, at least, so there’s evidence. But yeah, apparently he had a meeting with Elias and made a trip down here first.”

Upset, Jon reaches over to touch Martin’s arm lightly. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’ll admit it was a bit rough, but that’s just because I was already kind of…not at my best. I took a live statement two days in a row,” Martin admits, wincing under Jon’s look. “But anything he did to me, I got over pretty quickly.”

Jon doesn’t like the emphasis Martin places on the word me, but when he turns to scan the others, he realizes the one who looks the worst off is Martin Prime. Jon Prime meets his eyes, and his lips flatten. “Peter Lukas trails the Lonely after him. I wasn’t here,” he says softly. “Martin woke up alone and…”

“It was a bit touch and go,” Martin Prime says. “But we’re all right.”

“Where were you?” Jon asks his counterpart. It’s not like him to go haring off around London, especially during the day.

“Hill Top Road. Your team found a statement I remembered…when Martin brought it to me the first time, I remember being tempted to investigate but feeling very strongly that I shouldn’t. I had the same feeling this time, so I went,” Jon Prime answers. “I thought I might get some…useful information.”

“Did you?”

“Not about the Unknowing.”

Jon waits a second, but it’s obvious Jon Prime isn’t going to say further, and he decides not to push him. Sasha evidently comes to the same conclusion. “I feel bad that I missed all of this, but I was out for the afternoon. My uncle called and wanted to talk to me, so everyone told me to just go.”

“Is everything all right?” Jon asks.

“Depends on your definition of ‘all right’,” Sasha replies. “He’s being released next week. Which is great, and I’m actually quite excited about it. But he also—he had a statement.” She points at the shelves. “Tape’s in there if you want to listen to it later, but short version, the Corruption killed my parents and grandparents. Uncle Wade and I probably had a lucky escape ourselves.”

“Sasha, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. Anyway, that was basically all that happened with us while you were gone. What about you?” Sasha pushes her glasses up her nose with her middle finger. “Did you learn anything useful while you were gone?”

“Maybe? Not by actually following Gertrude’s path, though.” Jon takes a sip of tea to brace himself, then sets it on the desk and takes a deep breath. “Did Martin and Tim tell you about what I found in Chicago and Pittsburgh?”

“Fat lot of nothing,” Melanie says. “Except for the fact that Gertrude Robinson managed to not actually get charged with anything after being arrested.”

“Essentially, yes.” Jon glances from Martin to Tim and back, knowing they’re going to be upset. “As you know, then, I planned to take the bus from Pittsburgh to D.C., then fly home. I should have been home yesterday. But…well, the bus I was on made a stop to allow us to stretch, and I was…accosted.”

“Jon,” Tim says, “did you get kidnapped again?”

“Only a little,” Jon protests. He knows how feeble it sounds, but it does at least get a surprised laugh out of Martin. “I’d—I’d had a feeling I was being followed since I landed in Chicago, but by the time I got to Pittsburgh…I’m sorry I didn’t say anything while we were on the phone on Monday, but I-I didn’t want to worry you two unnecessarily. But by then I was sure. I had hoped the cop that was stalking me would be left behind, but no, he was still after me when the bus stopped.”

“You got kidnapped by a cop?” Martin’s voice rose a bit in pitch.

Jon shook his head. “No, by someone chasing that cop. Alleged cop, anyway. You recall that statement last year, the—the anatomy professor with the students with the strange names?”

“Wh—oh, yeah, the Stranger statement. First live one after…” Martin waves a hand around the room, indicating the Primes, the timeline on the whiteboard, and his own scars.

“Well, apparently one of them was hiding out as a Chicago beat cop. Must have recognized me, or at least spotted the Eye’s influence on me. But he didn’t actually manage to get to me. I got kidnapped—or escorted, as she would have it—by Julia Montauk.”

Sasha’s eyes widen. “Robert Montauk’s daughter?”

Jon nods. “She’s working with Trevor Herbert. The vampire hunter. He’s still alive…somehow. They’re over in America hunting…monsters. Mostly.” He shivers slightly, remembering the smug sneer on the man’s face: The line gets blurrier every day. Could he…no. No, he won’t think about that.

Martin and Tim both reach for Jon’s hands at the same instant. He clasps them both, grateful for the connection. Melanie frowns. “Fill me in. Who are these people?”

“Robert Montauk was a serial killer, but he was also working with the Dark,” Sasha tells her. “Julia Montauk was, well, his daughter. She gave a statement a few years back. Trevor Herbert was a man who spent basically his whole life hunting vampires. Or at least that’s what he calls them. There’s this whole…thing. We thought at first he died of lung cancer, like, literally in the middle of making his statement, but apparently he survived.”

Melanie taps her finger on her mug. Her eyes go vacant for a moment. Before Jon can continue, though, she turns to Jon Prime. “So is he part of the End or the Hunt?”

“The Hunt,” Jon Prime says, looking surprised. “Why do you ask?”

“I thought so, but the whole cheating-death thing made me wonder, that’s all.”

“A lot of—of avatars have cheated death, in one way or another,” Jon Prime says slowly. “But it’s their patrons, I suppose, keeping them alive. One more favor.”

Melanie hums. “’S irrelevant, I guess. Anyway, I’m up to speed now. Go on. You got kidnapped by a Hunter and—the daughter of the Dark?”

“She’s with the Hunt now, too. I got their statement while we waited for Max Mustermann to—well, regrow a body.” Jon shudders a bit again. It was all a bit grisly. “They obviously didn’t know anything about the Unknowing, but I was hoping Mustermann would.”

“Did he?” Martin asks softly.

Jon sighs. “Mostly what we already knew. He didn’t even know when it was set to happen, just ‘when things are ready.’ I’d have tried more questions, but Trevor and Julia decided they weren’t going to get anything else useful out of him and dispatched him.”

Tim sighs, too. “So you got a net total of…nothing.”

“Not quite. Julia and Trevor offered me a—a thank-you of sorts, for helping them catch Mustermann. Apparently they’d been after him for some time.” Jon lets go of Tim and Martin’s hands and reaches into his pocket. “I made a deal at the time. Bring this back to England, promise to dispose of it after, and I’d get all the information I needed.”

Jon Prime chuckles slightly. “That sounds familiar.”

Jon pulls out the folded page he’s been carrying for two days. Martin eyes it apprehensively. “Jon…what did you do?”

Melanie leans forward. “Is that—leather?”

“Technically, I think leather has to be tanned first. It’s just skin.” Jon studies it. “There’s a book—Mary Keay had it. It’s got pages on it with—it’s hard to explain, but the pages are sort of…possessed by the spirits of people who’ve died. Technically, mostly people she murdered. Gertrude Robinson knew how to do it too, and…she bound Gerry into it. Uh, Gerard Keay.”

Sasha’s eyebrows shoot up. “Gertrude Robinson murdered Gerard Keay?”

“No.” Jon reconsiders. “Not technically, but I’m inclined to hold her responsible. She had to have known how little time he had left—his cancer was incredibly advanced when he was admitted to the hospital. But I-I don’t think violent death is necessarily a prerequisite for being bound into the book, just…fresh death. I wouldn’t know.”

“You’re right.” Jon Prime massages his temple with one hand, eyes closed. “I would rather not know those details, but unfortunately I do.”

Martin Prime slides a hand between Jon Prime’s shoulder blades and rubs gently; Jon Prime leans into him and sighs, almost inaudibly. Martin studies the page in Jon’s hand. “So what did he tell you? I—I’m guessing you…summoned him.”

“Nothing yet,” Jon answers. “Like I said…he promised to tell me everything he could if I would just bring him back here, and then burn the page after we’re done.”

He unfolds the page, takes a deep breath, and begins to read aloud. As the last time, the air grows thick and heavy, and the words taste bitter on his tongue. He aches with sympathy for the dying—technically the dead, but reading it, he feels there, the same way he does when he reads the statements.

“‘And so Gerard Keay ended,’” he concludes, lowering the page. And just like last time, there the figure is in front of him, with no clear idea of when he appeared or how he got there. Martin makes a strangled noise of surprise. Jon can’t help but smile a bit as he makes eye contact with the specter. “Welcome home, Gerry.”

Gerry grins and makes an ironic little half-bow. “Archivist.”

“My friends call me Jon.” Jon waves a hand around him. “And speaking of…this is my team.”

He introduces each one of them in turn, including the Primes. Gerry is particularly startled to see them. “Time travel? I didn’t know that was possible. How’d you do it?”

“Spiral,” Martin Prime says succinctly. “Not the best option in the world.”

Gerry studies Martin Prime for a minute, then gives Jon Prime a meaningful glance with a raised eyebrow. Jon Prime rolls his eyes, but there’s a fond smile on his face as he kisses Martin Prime’s temple. Martin Prime relaxes a little, and it occurs to Jon, all of a sudden, that he’s jealous, at least a little bit.

Turning back to Jon, Gerry folds his arms across his chest. “All right. I suppose you’ve got questions.”

“Just one,” Jon answers. “How did Gertrude plan to stop the Unknowing?”

He knows what the Primes did, but he’s hoping against hope Gertrude might have had a different plan. Blowing up a factory will work, but he’s afraid to let Tim get that close to an explosion in the name of revenge. Unless there’s a way to do it long-range…

“Don’t know,” Gerry says casually.

Melanie throws up her hands dramatically. “Great! Just great. Big help.”

“Hey, now,” Gerry protests. “Okay, I don’t know exactly, but…Gertrude reckoned it couldn’t be stopped ahead of time. It could be delayed, but nothing we could do would actually stop it properly. Even the Dancer could be replaced. But once it starts, it might be vulnerable.”

“Vulnerable to what?” Melanie presses.

“I dunno.”

Melanie lets out a string of profanity that would have had Jon’s grandmother washing his mouth out with soap and salt water. Sasha hides a laugh behind a cough. “Seriously, she never said?”

Gerry’s eyes twinkle. Jon’s pretty sure he’s enjoying teasing them. “She did say she had something that might disrupt it.”

Sasha rolls her hand in a go on gesture. “What?”

“Not long before I went into the hospital, she told me that if something got her first, I was…” Gerry pauses, and there’s a flash of pain in his eyes. Jon realizes he really, truly did care about Gertrude, in his own way. “There’s a storage unit on an industrial estate up near Hainault. She said she rented it under the name Jan Kelly, and hid the key somewhere in the Archives.”

Jon remembers the key he found under the floorboards with Gertrude’s laptop. “Oh. Uh, I think I found that, actually.”

“Well, it’s in that storage unit,” Gerry says. “Whatever she thought might disrupt the ritual, stop the Unknowing, that’s where it is.”

“But you don’t know what it is.” With a sinking feeling, Jon realizes it has to be some kind of explosive.

“No,” Gerry answers. “When I asked her, she said she’d show me when we got back to London. Mind you, she had this weird look in her eyes, like it was some kind of joke.”

Melanie sighs. “So we’ve got a net gain of…a storage unit.”

“Hey, at least I know where to go now,” Jon points out. “It’s something, at least.”

Gerry looks around at them, then turns to the Primes. “Did it work when you did it?”

“It did,” Jon Prime says quietly. “But we lost a lot in the process. We were hoping there might be another method.”

“I reckon if there was, Gertrude would’ve had more than one plan set up,” Gerry says. “She was like that. Never put all your eggs in one basket unless you only have one basket, or you’re damned sure of it.”

“Or you don’t have that many hens,” Sasha says.

Jon sighs and nods. “Thank you, Gerry.”

“Sure. Glad to help what I could.” Gerry studies Jon thoughtfully. “Don’t forget what you promised.”

“As soon as we’re done here.”

Gerry nods. “I think I’m ready to go now. Thank you. For bringing me home.”

“Of course. Uh…I dismiss you,” Jon says, a bit awkwardly.

Gerry sighs in relief and smiles. He gives a wink and a thumbs-up to Martin and Tim, and then he’s gone.

Jon sighs, too. He folds the page back up, then goes over to the metal trash can in the corner, drops it in, and fishes out the spiderweb lighter he keeps finding in his pocket even though he has definitely quit smoking. “Right,” he says, mostly to himself, then lights the page on fire.

None of them speak while the page crumbles away to ashes. Once it’s done, Tim exhales heavily and slumps in his chair, rubbing at his temples with his eyes closed. “Christ, that hurt.”

“Hang on.” Martin grabs Tim’s mug and brushes a hand gently against his cheek before hurrying over to the tea station.

Jon barely stops himself from dropping the trash can and hurries back to Tim’s side. “Are you all right? What’s wrong?”

“I’ll be okay. Just—lot of power, you know? It’s getting harder and harder to stop from seeing the marks without trying, and the—the page itself was bad enough, but watching it burn—I don’t know why, but it was painful.” Tim takes a few deep, slow breaths. “I’m okay, Jon, honest.”

Jon doesn’t move from Tim’s side until Martin comes back with the tea and slides it into his hands. After a few moments of inhaling the tea, with Jon on one side of him and Martin on the other, Tim finally looks up and manages a smile. “Sorry for worrying you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Tim.” Jon takes a chance and brushes the hair on the back of Tim’s neck lightly. “How are you feeling?”

“Bit drained,” Tim admits. “Should be okay tomorrow.”

Jon Prime sighs. “Tim, if you’re using your abilities…whether you mean to or not, you’re going to need a statement to really recover well.”

Melanie half-rises from her seat. “I can go try and grab you one. Then you can, I don’t know, read it while we go look at this storage unit?”

“We can do that later,” Jon says, waving her to sit down. “Look at the storage unit, I mean. As for the statement…” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the tape Tim locked in his desk drawer weeks ago, the one labeled in Gertrude’s distinctive handwriting with nothing more than a date and location. He holds it up to show everyone. “This is the statement we’re pretty sure is my father’s. Anyone who wants to can leave…but I think it’s time we listen to it.”