#on any other show there's a 50% chance they'd have killed him off for the (omg drama) of it all

[flyboytracy]

[disaster-j]

Bobby saving the 118 when he was the reason they were in trouble in the first place was definitely a choice. I understand they did it because they didn't want to redo the 118 working together to get Gerrard fired but I still hate that in a diverse show they managed to have it come down to a straight white man masterminding saving the day.

Are you watching a different show? How did Bobby become the reason for their trouble? Is a man not allowed to want to step away from his job while having a breakdown in his mid-50s anymore?

Athena Grant-Nash, a black woman, and Jem, a black pre-teen boy, landed a plane with zero prior experience and saved dozens of lives last episode. What were your thoughts on that?

In that same arc a black man convicted of killing a cop was humanised, his past actions were presented in a more empathetic and less damning light than the show had previously done. He was not only endeared to the audience but also given the chance to be a hero, helping save the people on the plane and Bathena, and exposing a multi-million dollar CSA porn ring and he was NOT killed or written off, but given a happy ending instead. Where are the thinkpieces on that writing choice?

Bobby Nash is one of two MCs in this on-paper ensemble cast. As such, he's going to save the day from time to time. He is a white man and, as such, a white man will save the day from time to time. Like idk where yall are getting the whole White Saviour takes from bc this arc itself had absolutely nothing to do with the race of these characters or their backgrounds? It was all about a personal grudge and none of the characters' backgrounds other than Ortiz being rich and powerful came into play. Like I understand and agree with the takes about how the juxtaposition between Ortiz, a woman of colour with a heavy accent, being the Big Bad Villain and being harshly punished for her crimes vs Gerard, the racist homophobic misogynistic cunt getting an 'ending' that is good for him being bad optics. Like it would've been better if they'd cast a white actor for a role like Ortiz and i do blame Hollywood's current obsession raceblind casting for such instances but that doesn't make it any better or worse. It is what it is. But this is a show full of a diverse cast, you're right, and that will mean that yeah sometimes the bad guys will not be white and the good guys will be. Like, it's one thing to bring this up about a show or movie where the canon is centred around a white man saving a non-white or 'othered' community. But this is the wee woo show. It's literally just a bunch of first responders in LA. There was a tornado made of bees in the season premier. They unironically called it a bee-nado and it took down two planes. Is it actually that serious? Also, how is this different from the cartel arc? A white man saved a black man from a group of Mexican-American criminals. I didn't see a word said about that.

Like I am just not seeing your point here. If the main character of the show swooping in to save a situation he wasn't particularly involved in, which is a thing he has done before, upsets you bc of the race of said main character I think you should just watch a different show.

[chronussy-bc]

Annon-Guy: This Crossover ask is related to a fighting game idea I have. It's a 3-on-3 fighting game in the vein of The King of Fighters. I originally didn't inlcude them, but sense Shamen King is no longer owned by Shonen Jump, I have Team Sweaper (Train, Sven and Eve) in their place. To give an idea of this ask, here's the synopsis for my game idea, Batlle Stadium D.M.S.S. (Dengeki Bunko, MF Bunko J, Shonen Jump and Shonen Sunday);

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In a special pocket dimension, a mysterious fighter known as Gamma seeks new challengers to face in an effort to find worthy opponents. Using his mysterious powers, Gamma sends out special invitations across different multiverses to a three-on-three fighting tournament where two prizes await the winning team: a $500,000 Cash Prize and title of the three strongest fighters in the multiverse!

For one reason or another, 50 Teams, each with three fighters, enter the tournament by agreeing on the invites they were sent. Some fight for the title of strongest, some fight for the cash prize, some fight for both and some fight to discover the truth behind Gamma's motives. However, a mysterious monster is observing the tournament, waiting to strike...

Who will emerge the champion by the end? And who is the true foe? Gamma... or the monster?

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How would Train, Sven and Eve feel about being invited to a fighting tournament? Would Sven be okay fighting female opponents in the tournament? He is a gentleman after all.

In their ending, would $500,000 be enough to pay off their debts? Would they have some money leftover or would they give Eve a little allowance before paying off the debt? If they don't spend it on their debts, what would they spend it on?

How would they feel about having the Title of The Three Strongest Fighters in the multiverse? (They'd each be given medals as proof.) Hopefully it won't excite Creed or give Sephira concern should they catch word of that 😂...

P.S. No need to look up gameplay, okay 👌?

Well, they would not mind tbh. There is a chance of fighting female opponents but they would be able to deal just fine. The idea that hitting female fighters is ungentlemanly seems quite absurd in this case, as people who participate are all far more than capable of defending themselves and aware of what would ensue participation. On the stadium they are all equal. Train and Sven would fight like they normally do, using the right amount of strength needed to win without causing fatal injuries. No holding back without being a berserker is the right way of showing respect and I'm pretty sure they understand that.

If the exchange rate is the same as reality then that would be enough for their debts. All three would have some considerable allowance, even minus the expenses for tournament preparation. Train would just spend it on food and milk, while Sven would spend it on car maintenance and something for his suitcase. Both him and Eve would have some savings, knowing how they would probably need it in case Train causes some troubles. Eve would definitely buy more books and perhaps a bigger shelf as well.

None of them would really care tbh. The trio would mostly enter the tournament for the money. Sephiria, if she really minded that someone other than herself becoming the strongest, she would have thought of ways to take Train out long before any of his enemies could. Unless she wants to kill someone who also enrolls in the tournament or maybe operates it, she would only find the news interesting at best. Creed would be fanboying as usual. He would follow the tournament from the first day and yap about how none of the contestants are at Train's level.

[fangirl-ramblings]

Pairing: Arthur x gn!reader

Characters: Reader, Simon Pearson, Mary Linton, Arthur Morgan

Word count: 3306

Summary: You and Arthur have recently made your relationship official by moving into his tent...but is he really into you...or is he still holding onto his past?

Notes: SFW, Angst leading to fluff

After requesting several wonderful stories from one of my favourite writers and people, I was super honoured to have the chance to be able to write something for the super talented and lovely @littlestarofthewest -  Merry Christmas from your secret santa 😘😘

Also a huge thank you to @horsegirl1h (who helped me plot this out) @verai-marcel (for wrangling in all my stupid grammatical mistakes) & @mileycyprus-hill who took a quick look over this and gave me a much better character note on how to improve Arthur's feelings in this story and give me a far better title I could ever think of myself. Thank you all 😘

~* Tumblr Masterlist | Stories on AO3 *~

The First Shall Be Forgotten

You slowly opened your eyes, only to find the cot next to you still empty. It was fairly late when you'd finally taken yourself off to bed last night, but you had found yourself unable to keep your eyes open as you'd sat around the scout fire. Your hope of Arthur riding back into camp and joining you in lying down for the night had turned into a wishful dream of waking up with his strong arms wrapped around you, but it turns out it was just that - merely a pleasant dream. 

It was only a few months since you'd started dating, with most of that time spent being inseparable, but lately you noticed that Arthur was staying away from camp longer and longer. Yes - the events of Blackwater had changed the gang's luck and the likes of Dutch and Strauss kept giving Arthur more and more tasks to do, but you'd felt like that most of these jobs could be done well before nightfall. Surely Arthur wasn't avoiding you because he was bored of you already….could he?

You sat upright, shaking your head free of any more of those nasty thoughts, quickly making the decision that you should get dressed and help out around camp before Miss Grimshaw marched over to berate you for wasting so much time idling about.

There was a chill floating in the air this morning in camp and so you found yourself shivering as you looked around for your light jacket. Opening your shared trunk, you proceeded to pile a mixture of both yours and Arthur's clothes on to the cot in your quest to find your missing coat. Though you soon found yourself distracted as you lifted one of Arthur's shirts up, tutting to yourself as you saw just how worn and dirt stained they all were. You swore that that man would wear these offending items until they fell apart on him...and some were close to doing so, judging by how often they'd been patched up.

   "Ah, there you are," Pearson's cheerful voice booming from behind you, making you jump out of your skin, "I need a helping hand gathering supplies in town and was wondering if you could come along with me for the ride"

   "Me? Surely there's someone more capable about?" Although Valentine was only a short ride away, the idea of being Mr. Pearson's captive audience for that short length of time was not high on your list of priorities for the day. 

   "Well, I don't know if you noticed but we are stretched a little thin on the ground right now," his hands gesturing to the almost empty camp area in front of you, "Mr. Smith & Mr. Escuella are yet to return from Blackwater with young Sean and, as you well know, Mr. Morgan is still yet to return from wherever he has took himself off to. As for the girls..." you tried to stifle a chuckle as he trailed off to glance nervously over at where Tilly, Mary-Beth and Karen were currently sitting at their wagon, making sure they couldn't hear this conversation, "...I'd rather not ask them. Uncle told me of the trouble they got up to on their last visit into Valentine."

You couldn't help but burst out laughing at Pearson's fear of trying to keep three excited young women from creating chaos. "Sorry, sorry," you apologised, wiping your eyes as he looked at you with confusion, "Well...since you have no other options, I'll join you. I've been wanting to pick Arthur up a new shirt anyways." Spotting your jacket at the bottom of the truck, you quickly threw it on, leaving all the other clothes heaped on the bed, "Shall we go now then?"

"Goddamit, why does there have to be a train in the station?" you grumbled as Pearson pulled the horses to a stop at the crossing, which was blocked by one of the carriages belonging to the offending train. After being waylaid by the shop boy slowly loading the wagon with all the goods Pearson had chosen for camp - not that any of these ingredients would do much to improve his cooking, you cruelly thought to yourself - your head was starting to ache from listening to Pearson's constant tall tales. All you had wanted to do was get back to camp and sleep off your headache, but that didn't seem to be happening anytime soon, thanks to this stupid train.

   "I know what you mean, I was hoping to get back and make a start on preparing supper," Pearson sighed before suddenly cheering up, "But, hey, at least it gives me more time to tell you about my time at sea. There was this other time..."

Internally, you found yourself groaning, trying to zone out the older man as he recounted yet another story, that this time seemed to involve him somehow, inexplicably fighting a walrus -  single-handedly -  to save his crew.

You glanced around, finding yourself admiring all the different horses hitched up around the station...until a familiar sight caught your eye.

   "Hey isn't that Brutus?" you interrupted Pearson mid-sentence, gesturing towards the big, black Shire horse that Hosea had gifted Arthur a few weeks ago. Arthur had rarely named his horses after losing his beloved Boudicca in Blackwater and was more than content to just refer to this one as "Boy", but after overhearing Hosea called this giant a brute, you'd jokingly suggested the name Brutus, a name that had tickled Arthur and agreed it was the perfect name for this beast.

Put out a little by the fact you had rudely interrupted him just as the story was getting good, Pearson grudgingly glanced over to the direction in which you were pointing.

   "Er, it does look like it. So anyway after I killed the Walrus with nothing but my bare hands…" 

   'So this is where you've gotten to Morgan,' you thought to yourself, once again not listening to Pearson's story. 'Here's hoping you're on your way home too.'

Smiling to yourself that your lover would hopefully be by your side once more, you absent-mindedly found yourself scanning the crowd of people that was starting to thin out as they slowly stepped onto the carriages...until you saw him standing with his back to you.

A smile started to creep over your face as you recognised Arthur's dirty blond hair, broad frame and filthy blue shirt. Just the fact you could see how dirty it was from this distance made you glad that you'd made the decision to buy him a new one now, as that one needed throwing out, never mind a good wash. Anybody would think that man spent most of his time rolling around in the mud than riding a horse around.

With his hands on his gun belt, he shifted his weight to one side and the smile on your face was replaced with a look of confusion as a young lady was revealed to be standing next to him, deep in an intimate conversation.

Unconsciously scowling at her, you were unable to shake the feeling that you've seen her somewhere before, but for the life of you, you couldn't quite place where.

You squinted your eyes to try and focus your vision on her delicate features before a feeling of rage bubbled up from your stomach as she kissed Arthur's cheek, in a way that suggested more than just friendship.

"And I'll tell you - I used that walrus meat to feed a crew of 50...and not one of them complained the way you and the rest of camp do about my cooking" Pearson waffled on down your ear, distracting you from your thoughts about this mysterious woman and how you wanted to jump down and throttle her. Instead you suddenly had the urge to wrap your hands around the cook's neck. 

Turning to face him, you barked, "Maybe being at sea for weeks at end with no food makes people more appreciative of the slop you always manage to serve up - no matter the ingredients." 

You instantly felt regret as the words left your mouth and you saw the hurt in the older man's eyes.

   "Christ, I'm sorry Mr. Pearson. I didn’t mean to take it out on you..." You paused, thinking about telling him about what you just saw, but you doubted this old sea dog would give a damn about your love life and so explained "I just have a real bad headache and it's put me in a bad mood."

He nodded softly and turned away so you wouldn't see him wipe the sting of the tears from his eyes.

Feeling guilty from the hurt you just caused, you looked away to the source of your own pain, only to find Arthur had disappeared from the platform and the train was now pulling out the station. Had he gotten on board with his mystery woman? Gone off to start a new life with her and left you and the outlaw life behind him? These thoughts rattled around your head as Pearson told the horses to giddy up and the pair of you headed back to camp in an awkward silence.

Jumping down from the wagon, you helped Pearson unload the wagon - still with an uneasy tension in the air, before you tried to broker the peace between you both by offering to help prepare the next meal as a peace offering.

   "No, it's quite okay," Pearson patted you shoulder to show there was no hard feelings, "You go sleep off that sore head of yours"

You nodded appreciatively, finding yourself thanking him and apologising once more as you picked up the wrapped parcel containing Arthur's new shirt, and headed back to your tent. 

As you walked over, you rolled your eyes in annoyance at yourself as you caught sight of the mess you'd left behind this morning. Picking the mountain of clothes up, you threw them in straight at the trunk at the end of the cot, surprising yourself as you heard a loud clatter of something hitting the side of the chest and then dropping onto the floor.

Peering over, you saw that a few shirts and a pair of trousers had missed their target and were now scattered over the floor... alongside a wooden photoframe, laying face down on the ground, that definitely wasn't there before.

Picking it up, you recognised the image of a younger, but still very handsome version of Arthur standing on the left.

'You've always been a good-looking bastard haven't you?' half smiling as you took in his handsome features, 'No wonder you have a long list of admirers to spend all your time instead of me.'

Well before you and Arthur had started dating, you had seen this photograph before. You recalled picking it up from his bedside table back then too, in order to get a closer look of how attractive Arthur's always been.

But sometime between then and making your relationship official, Arthur must have removed it and hidden it out of sight from you. Just as you were about to ask yourself why, you spotted who else was in the picture.

   'No…no it can't be,' you thought to yourself as you stared at the beautiful, dark haired woman standing next to him in the image. But, as much as you didn’t want it to be, it certainly was. Looking straight back at you was a younger version of the same woman from the train station…the same woman who had ripped Arthur's heart out and tore it into a million pieces all those years ago when she called off their engagement - Mary.

Time seemed to slow down as your mind went into overdrive. Did he simply remove the picture as a thoughtful gesture so you wouldn't wake up to a younger Arthur and his ex-fiancee looking at you…or did he hide it because he still loved her and her alone? Were you just a stopgap - something to fill the emptiness in his heart until she came back to him? Is that the real reason Arthur had hidden the picture and not gotten rid of it completely? So once he had managed to win her back, he could toss you aside and place it once more on his bedside to stare lovingly at while he held her in his arms?

You hadn’t realise you were crying or just how hard you were gripping the frame until you heard the sudden sound of glass cracking and a mix of your blood and tears began to streak all over her stupid, perfect face. Standing frozen to the spot, you stared and stared at her image, slowly disappearing under the physical manifestations of your hurt and betrayal, until you heard Arthur bellow out your name as he rode back into camp.

   "Hey you. Boy, did I sure miss you while I was gone," he cheerfully greeted you as he strode towards you, "I tell you, there's some strange sights out there that I've been dyin' to tell you all 'bout."

   "Tell me?" you snarled, acting the wounded animal you currently felt like, "Don't you have other people you'd rather spend your time with?"

   "What? What's got into you?" 

Your heart panged as you saw the hurt cross his face as he saw how upset you were. 

"Listen, if this 'bout me spendin' so much time from camp recently, then I am sorry - but I did miss you somethin' fierce y'know" he assured you, placing his arms around your waist.

   "Just like you've missed Mary for all these years?" Just saying her name out loud felt like you had tasted venom on your lips and needed to quickly spit it out.

"Mary? Where's all this comin' from?" He flustered, averting his eyes downwards as not to meet your steely gaze. Upon seeing you holding the photograph, he exclaimed, "Christ alive, you're bleedin'. Here lemme fix you up."

"I'm fine," you snapped at him, pulling your hand away from his gentle touch. Any other time, this small act of affection - the big mean outlaw gently cradling your hand in his - would have made you melt on the spot, but today your inner rage wasn't having any of it. Instead you blurted out, "I saw you. At the train station…with her."

Realising he had been caught out and couldn't bluff his way out of this sorry mess, he sat down on the cot and tried to explain.

   "Okay, yeah, I was at the train station with her, but it really ain't what you think…"

   "I saw her kiss you."

  "You mean when she kissed my cheek? That was her sayin' goodbye. Her and her brother are headin' back East to find their father."

You sat next to him, the photograph still in your hands.

   "Still doesn't explain why you were with her in the first place."

   "No it doesn't, does it." He sighed, running his hand down his face. "I was on my way back to camp, ridin' through Valentine when I thought I'd check and see if there was any post. Lo' and behold there was just the one - a letter from Mary askin' if I could help with a small problem of hers."

   "So you must have been in contact with her if she knew you were in town."

He shook his head. "No. No, she'd recognised the girls after their last trip into town and wrote to me on the off-chance I was also in the area."

   "Why?"

"Her kid brother, Jamie, he'd gone and got himself mixed up in this weird cult up in Cumberland Forest. Christ, you shoulda seen them all listenin' on as this lunatic spouted some nonsense about turtles or somethin'," laughing, he patted his leg until he saw your stony expression still waiting for the answer to your question.

   "Get to the point please, Arthur."

   "You're right, sorry," he said as he nodded, "Jamie was the only one in her family who stood up for me and I owed it to *him*, not Mary, him -  to help get him away from those crazy fools."

You fidgeted slightly next to him. You wanted to believe him, but he seemed to be avoiding the main topic of conversation.

   "So say I believe you about your reasonings for helping her…why did you keep a picture of her?"

Silence filled the air for a second before he simply answered. "I shoved it in there so you wouldn't have to keep lookin' at it when we lay together...and I guess I forgot all 'bout it."

You looked away as more tears fell down your cheeks. Gently placing his hand under your chin, Arthur turned your face to face his, looking deep into your eyes he told you, 

   "You’re overthinking – I’m yours. That’s all I want to be.”

   "Prove it." You pleaded.

   "Okay then...this should show you she's nothin' to me now." He took the broken frame from your grasp and carefully removed the picture from the frame, lingering for a moment before crumpling it up in his hand and walking towards the campfire.

Though his stride was purposeful, you couldn't help but feel he faltered once more as he looked at the flames, but those fears disappeared as he turned to look back at you with a warmth in his eyes and a smile stretching wide across his face. Looking straight at you, his hand opened and the picture fell into the flames, where it lay for a few moments as it slowly rendered into nothing but a pile of ashes.

Making his way back over to you, he picked you up and spun you around his arms.

   "I'm all yours...are you mine?"

Bonus scene: Arthur's POV

He slowly removed the picture from the frame, partly being careful not to cut himself on broken shards of glass and partly because he wanted to make sure he was making the right decision. He was convinced that after Mary called it all off between them, he'd never smile, let alone love again. But then you'd walked into his life and brought light back into the darkness he'd found himself in.

But maybe there was a reason he'd held on to this photograph for all this time - a reminder of the good times that existed between them. Heartbreak has a funny way of erasing those memories, but seeing the woman you once considered the love of your life in person has an equally funny way of making those feelings rush back.

But no, the heartache he'd felt for all these years outweighed the fleeting moments of happiness he'd felt with Mary. And that kiss on the cheek to say goodbye that she'd given him at the train station? It certainly didn't give him butterflies like it used too. Looking at her image one last time, he crumpled it up and walked over to the campfire.

Though he had confidently strode over to flames, he once more had doubts he was right to finally let Mary go. Turning to face you, everything suddenly became very clear in Arthur's mind. Everything he ever wanted: someone who loved the group of people he considered family, as well as loving him for the man he was - despite his faults, someone who was willing to stick with him through thick and thin, make him laugh when he was down, and never fail to make him smile, that special someone he wanted to grow old with with...he already had that with you.

Without thinking, he opened his hand and let the battered photograph waft downwards, enveloped by the flames and turning to nothingness as he made his way back over to you, picking you up and spinning you around his arms.

   "I'm all yours...are you mine?"

[ma-gic-gay]

In Port Charles, New York, there was never a large amount of time without someone having a near death experience, death, or traumatic event.

Michael and Willow had been pretty fortunate, ever since they got married the only bad thing that had happened was Wiley being kidnapped and they had all recovered from that, mainly. Granted, they still checked on him twice a night, but it didn't matter. Everyone was healing and the pair were trying desperately to tell each other what they felt without actually saying the words.

So it seemed it was time for them to deal with a traumatic event, according to whatever controls what happens with people in this town.

Whatever controls these people's lives decides to make them get caught up in a gunfight, where Willow was about to get shot. She had been kidnapped hours before and was being used as a pawn in a scam Cyrus had concocted against Sonny. He knew Sonny cared about Michael's family, but that he couldn't get Michael himself or he'd be killed.

When Jason and Sonny fired their guns at Cyrus and his guys, they'd fired back at a tied up, scared Willow. Michael jumped in front of them, his own gun firing as he was shot in the chest. The bullet just grazed Willow, and though she was in intense pain, the worst she'd ever felt, her first concern was Michael. He needed medical attention immediately, or else he'd die.

That brings us to the present, where Willow got shot in the shoulder and Michael's still in surgery to try and save his life. When they'd had her sign something earlier for it, a medical form she didn't know quite the details of, it had really set in. Michael could be dead because he was trying to save her life. Willow's bullet had been a through and through wound; they were able to get her all taken care of quickly. She's bandaged and traumatized, but fine. Michael, on the other hand, could be bleeding out on an operating table for all she knows. He got shot in the chest and the doctors think it's in an artery.

There are no words to describe how she felt, finding out that her husband had a large chance of death. Cyrus, stupid Cyrus and his mob games he had to play with Sonny. Stupid, stupid Sonny. If he wasn't in the damn mob, Willow never would've been kidnapped and Michael never would've been shot. He wouldn't be fighting for his life on an operating table right now, trying not to die. This was Sonny's fault as much as it was Cyrus's.

Sonny enters her room cautiously. "Willow, I'm so sorry you got caught up in all this. You never should have been involved in this situation in the first place and I have no clue why you were even on Cyrus's radar in the first place."

"I think that you should know damn well why I was shot, Sonny! The same reason Michael was, because you're in some territory fight with him. You're lucky Carly didn't get shot or another innocent bystander in your fight with him. Your mob war is fine, but I don't want anything to do with it. I married Michael, and I knew that it meant I was marrying into a mob family with you being his dad and all, but I didn't expect this! Your son is fighting for his life on an operating table right now because of you! I got shot because of you! My son could be in danger or on the radar of a known mobster right now because of you and your actions!" Willow angrily shouts at him.

The mobster is confused before he responds, "Don't you think I know that, Willow? Don't you think I feel terrible about my son having to fight for his life because of me again? I'm not a monster, despite you apparently seeing me as one. This life- it's not what I ever thought my life would be. In some ways, it's so much better, but in others, it's terrible. I don't know how you got to be involved in this, or if Wiley's on their radar, but my guys will take care of it."

"Take care of it meaning you're going to put us on house arrest like you did your entire family because you can't control the mob wars you start? Or maybe we'll have a guard following us everywhere we go like Joss. I'm sure I could get some pointers from her about how to live your life with a guard following you," she fires back, heart racing and angry.

"My family means everything to me. I-I would never do something that I thought could put my family in danger. I'm having one of my guys check right now and see if Wiley's on their radar. They're gone, the bad guys. No one is hurting any of you because you're all good people. Michael's the former head of ELQ and lives at the Quartermaine mansion, so I don't know if he was on their radar because of his last name, but I also don't know why you're the one they took. If they wanted to kidnap someone, Michael probably would've been easier to than you were," Sonny ponders, clearly apologetic about his actions.

Thinking for a moment, Willow breathes deeply, wincing slightly. "I'm sorry I blew up, but I'm anxious right now. I mean, my husband is on the operating table. Not exactly a great thing for me, or Wiley. I also got shot, which isn't exactly a fun experience. Add in the kidnapping, I'm pretty sure that there's such a high amount of adrenaline in my system right now I could be having a panic attack."

Jason enters the room with Sam and Dante. "How you holding up?"

"Shot, kidnapped, angry, scared, traumatized. I'm wondering, why did they pick to come after me? Sure, Cyrus and all them know I'm married to Michael, that's not old news, but if they wanted to get mad at Sonny, why not take one of his kids?" Willow asks, trying to distract herself from the fact that her husband could be bleeding out right now and that she's in a hospital bed with a gun wound.

"Well, Michael and I are adults. We've dealt with this stuff before, it'd be harder to just kidnap us. Avery is at Ava's, and they don't want to mess with Julian or Nikolas. Donna's got so much security around her, it'd be near impossible to, and Kristina would make an absolutely terrible hostage. Joss has a guard following her, and would also be a bad hostage. All of us wouldn't be good targets to kidnap, and so there could be the argument he could have taken one of Jason's kids, but they're all innocent in everything and Jason would go ballistic. It just wouldn't make sense. You, however, are new to this life, married to a Corinthos, have a child with one, and don't really seem like you've been kidnapped before," Dante explains.

"So I was the easiest target for them to take, pretty much?" Willow asks and they nod.

Sam speaks up now, "It makes sense that if they wanted Michael, they'd take you. Wiley's a bad target, considering that there's so much energy put into making sure he's okay at all times. You're his wife and he loves you, so they want to lure him in, they take you. Tell him exactly where to find you, exactly what to do to get you back. Only thing is, they didn't count on Sonny and Jason being there too. So they saw them and got scared. Shot at you since you were still tied up and Michael, being Michael, saved you. They wanted to hurt Sonny and the best way to do that is by hurting his family. You were the easiest target and collateral damage."

Willow sighs, angry and hurt. "So in an effort to hurt Sonny and Jason, they wanted to hurt Michael. They knew that they couldn't take him, so they take me instead and make him come get me and try to kill us both?"

"These people run off of trying to find a soft spot. This one matched for both of them. Carly was probably their second choice, except she's an absolutely terrible hostage and they know it would've been too obvious. If they could kill you and Michael, Sonny lets down his guard because he's grieving and probably raising Wiley. I'm grieving, everyone involved in the business is grieving. They can take over Port Charles. It's unfair and cruel, but true," Jason summarizes to her.

Portia comes into the room then, looking somber. "Is he okay? What-what's happening with Michael?" Willow asks immediately, frantic for news on her husband.

"Willow, the bullet that hit Michael was in one of his arteries. We were able to remove the bullet, but we don't know if he'll survive. The surgery was intense, and the damage he took to his heart was as well. His body, like yours, has faced a huge trauma, but since his was to his heart, we're not comfortable yet with anything," the doctor tells her and the brunette bursts into tears. It's like her heart is slowly cracking and they're dragging out what's happening.

"Portia, just tell it to us straight: What are the odds?" Jason asks, face emotionless.

"Michael has a 50% chance of survival," Portia admits. "The next 24 to 48 hours are going to be crucial to getting more exact odds. Right now, he's not allowed any visitors, but we will be changing that in a few hours. I'm so sorry I don't have better news."

Those are the words it takes for everyone to be crying. Jason, in a rare showing of emotion, looks like he's going to break down. Sam's face says it all: She's heartbroken. Michael's practically a son to the both of them, especially Jason. But Sonny, his face is the truly heartbreaking one. He breaks down right then and there, sitting on the floor of the room and crying. Dante looks shocked, like he's not processing this. "What the hell?" He asks. "Dad, what the hell is it with you and killing my brothers? First Morgan, now Michael?"

"Dante, your brother is still alive. He is in critical condition, but alive. The odds of survival will likely increase after I go to check on him in a few hours," Portia calmly explains as Carly runs into the room, crying.

Carly runs to the space in between Jason and Sonny and asks, "What's wrong with my baby? Why won't they let me see him? Is he alive?"

"Yes, Michael is alive. He was shot in the chest and it got in an artery. The surgical team was able to save him, though he is in critical condition with what I'm predicting is a 50% chance of survival. He will be allowed visitors in a few hours," Portia spiels, everyone understanding it more now and the room more tearful than before. "Carly, if you want, Joss and Dev are more than welcome to stay with Trina and I for the next few days, since I know you and Sonny will be here, and I presume Jax will be as well."

"Thank you, Portia. That would be great if it's not too much trouble," Carly thanks her, tears still streaming down her face.

"Of course," Portia smiles before leaving the room. "Jason, that offer extends to Danny and Scout too."

"That's nice, but they're gonna be staying with Elizabeth and her boys. Thank you for offering," he says solemnly, tears building up in his eyes.

The room has an aura of sadness as everyone processes the information they've been given. Michael has a 50% chance of dying, and a 50% chance of surviving. All because of Sonny's stupid fight with Cyrus. Despite what she may have said, Willow is still beyond upset with Sonny, as is Dante.

"Sonny, you caused this. Not Cyrus, you. By starting that stupid fight with him, you put all of our lives on the line. Now, Michael's fighting for his life in a hospital bed and Willow's been shot too! The only reason we're in this situation is you and your stupid mob war. You're lucky I'm not PCPD anymore, or I'd arrest you for all of your illegal activities and put you behind bars because none of us deserve to have this be our lives!" Dante shouts at his father, angry and needing someone to blame but truthful.

"I know that, Dante! I know that I'm the reason my son could die. I'm the reason Morgan did too, I know. I'm so sorry, Willow, that you got caught up in this because they wanted Michael," Sonny tearfully tells his oldest son.

Willow takes a deep breath, calming her sobs. "I am angry at you, but I know that it's Cyrus's fault I got kidnapped and that Michael and I got shot. Why I was kidnapped, I still don't fully understand, but I can see how badly you feel about this. So I accept your apology, but I can't forgive you for this yet."

Dante breathes, trying to calm himself, as he says, "They took you because Michael loves you and they wanted him to get to Sonny. It's stupid and rude, but the truth."

Love? That four letter word hadn't been said by either of them yet; they were getting annulled for God's sakes!

That would probably be getting put off indefinitely while Willow and him were recovering from their gun shot wounds. It would be easier on everyone because Monica would be there if something bad happened to either of them and Wiley wouldn't have to move around or anything.

Noticing her silence, Sam asks, "You didn't know that?"

"Is it that obvious?" Willow asks, noting that the pain of the wound is starting to go down.

"Yeah," Dante laughs. "It's really obvious. Stupidly obvious, to be honest. You two, I presume, have been in love with each other for at least a few months by now. It's just that neither one of you wants to say it because you're scared you'll ruin your friendship somehow or whatever."

There's a quiet laughter in the room for a few moments before the air turns somber again and tears come back full force. It's evident that all of them are in pain, emotionally and, for Willow, physically.

Several hours later, Willow's entire hospital room is full of people. Maxie, Spinelli, Anna, Finn, Monica, Bobbie, Brook Lynn, Ned, Jax, Joss, Dev, Cam, Elizabeth, Franco, Nina, Lulu, Lucy, even Sasha and Chase are there. A lot of people know Michael, and a lot of them care a lot about him. It warms Willow's heart to see that, to know that the man she loves has so many people who love him and care about him.

Portia comes in the crowded room with Trina, who envelopes Joss in a hug. "Michael can have guests now," Portia tells them, "but only one at a time. He may still be a bit woozy from the anesthesia, if he's even awake. He will likely be confused somewhat and drifting in and out of sleep. Don't talk about anything serious with him, or he'll get more confused."

As she leaves the room, Joss says, "I think Willow should go first. If there's anyone Michael would want to see first, I think it would be her."

Everyone nods their agreement and Elizabeth goes to get Willow a wheelchair. Sitting in the chair is fine, standing and walking isn't. She already hates how much this is slowing her down, considering that she's always been so quick to go and do things. This is pretty much just a shitty situation.

Elizabeth comes back, wheelchair in tow, and Willow moves to get in it, wincing in pain but ignoring that. She's got a husband to see. "You know," she jokes, "Michael and I never had a honeymoon. I guess this is the closest we'll get before our annulment."

"If I hear one more word about that annulment," Carly threatens and Monica agrees.

"I'm not letting you two make this decision, no annulment!" Dante smiles and everyone laughs for a minute except Chase and Sasha, but it's obvious that they mean it.

"Our fans grow," Willow chuckles as Elizabeth wheels her into Michael's room, which isn't far from her own.

"For what it's worth, and not that my opinion has anything to do with your marriage to Michael because it doesn't, you two do make a very good couple in a way I don't think we've seen around here in a while. Again, not my spot, but still, I think you two have some talking to do before you agree to end your marriage," Elizabeth tells her. "Count me as a fan."

Chuckling, the pair go into Michael's room, where the energy is instantly changed to more of a sad, somber energy. After all, he is in a hospital bed, hooked up to a lot of tubes and machines. Willow was lucky, her IV could go with her. Michael's setup is much more complicated.

Willow's wheeled up to his bed before Elizabeth leaves, telling her to just text someone when she needs to get wheeled away again. It's evident Elizabeth can't stand to be in the room much longer.

When she leaves, tears start streaming down Willow's face. This is more difficult than she thought it would be, though she was trying to joke her way through it. Her heart aches seeing him like this, the man she married fighting for his life in a hospital bed. It's heartbreaking, knowing that she's got a chance of him not making it, that he'll die on her. She knows he'll fight like hell to stop it, but at the end of the day, you can't always get what you want.

It's this thought that makes her want to say what she's been feeling, confess like she's in some movie or something. The words have been on her mind for weeks, but she couldn't bring herself to say them because there was a chance he didn't feel the same.

Opening her mouth to speak, Willow notes that only a sob comes out. It's not a pretty sound by any means, if anything it's an ugly one, but it's okay because Michael's still alive. "This, what I feel for you, it's hard to put into words but I'm going to give it my best shot. I fell for you because you're you. That makes no sense, I know, but that's why I fell for you. I fell for you because you're so unapologetically yourself, even when it's causing an issue. I fell for you because I want the whole thing, the stupid little fights and the joking, the love that's always there. I fell for you because when I look into your eyes, I stop thinking. I fell for you because that look you give me, that keeps me up at night trying to figure out what it means. When we kissed, I can still feel it when I go to sleep at night. You, without my knowledge, walked into my heart and just decided to get comfy. Falling in love with you was beyond my control, but I'm okay with it. This- falling for you has been the scariest thing in my life because I'm giving you the power to destroy me. You're destroying me, not knowing if you'll make it or not. It breaks my heart, knowing you could die because of me. I couldn't deal with it if you die. So hang on long enough for us to watch movies while eating a pizza we just bought in a Walmart. Hang on long enough to have stupid pillow fights with me in bed at three am because Wiley's starting school tomorrow and we can't fall asleep. Do it for me, do it for him. Do that for us. I love you, Michael, and I don't see that ending so please, just wake up."

By the end of her beautiful proclamation, Willow's full on crying. Tears are streaming down her cheeks and her heart is broken. Even though he's not dead, Willow just spilled her heart to him. It could be the last thing she ever says to him when he's alive, that she loves him. That thought terrifies her, that he could die and never fully know if he knows she loves him.

"I don't know what it is, but somehow, you can always make me smile even when I'm feeling the worst I've ever felt in my life. Without me even thinking, I can see a future with you. A future full of a couple more kids and happiness. Don't get me wrong, I know romance isn't always happily ever after. But still, I know loving someone the way I love you is so uncommon, especially so quickly. I love you, and I'm going to tell you that because it's true. You deserve to know the truth, and simply put, that's the truth. Those three words that terrified me have been so common in my brain thinking of you. And telling you, it makes me feel relieved. Because you deserve to know these things. At the end of the day, you deserve to know I love you," Willow tearfully tells him. "So you can't die on me, okay? I love you and we haven't even started our story yet, so you've got to survive so we can have our happy ending."

No response from Michael, nothing. His vitals are the same and he looks the exact same too, still great but wounded. He looks frail, lying in that hospital bed.

Maybe her words can't save him. Maybe he's already gone, already left her. It's sad to think about and makes her breakdown, sobs coming from her mouth with tears so plentiful she can't even see anything. She takes his hand, holding it in hers. This, this is the moment in all those movies where he would squeeze her hand, wake up.

Life isn't a move though, she realizes, as she continues speaking. "I get it if you're already gone and your heart's still beating, but selfishly, I want you to wake up. I want you to wake up and we can stop the annulment, fall even more in love. Selfishly, I want a huge love story where we're together for so long that people ask if we're still together and wonder how we are because we've been together so long."

"And so you have to be okay, you have to wake up from this, you have to. I get it if you don't know entirely, or if you don't fully want to, but Wiley and I need you to. Everyone here, and everyone in the waiting room, everyone crowded in my room needs you to wake up. I love you," Willow tearfully reminds him.

She pulls out her phone and texts Elizabeth she's okay to leave the room, that someone else can come in, and within a minute, Carly's in there, staring at her son, equally as heartbroken, if not more, as Willow is. Carly's been through this before; Michael was in a coma for a year and a half at one point. That doesn't mean it's less heartbreaking or easier; if anything, the opposite is true.

"I'm so sorry this is happening to you," Willow says to Carly. "I can't even imagine what you're going through."

"Thank you. I know exactly what you're going through, Willow. Sonny and Jason have been through this enough, I know just how bad it hurts and how worried you are. But Michael's strong, he'll survive this. I have faith he will survive long enough for you both to have a happy family and me to have more grandbabies. Don't even try to say that I'm wrong, because he loves you as well," Carly smiles sadly at her, tears still streaming down her face.

Willow can't help the smile on her face when she hears that. "It's good to know someone's sure of that, because I'm sure as hell not."

Carly laughs, incredulous. "How do you not see it, Willow? He's told me, flat out, that he loves you. It's so obvious that you two love each other that the fact you're both denying it or not thinking about your love for each other is getting annoying."

"I don't know. I guess I just didn't think he loved me back, but I'm going to wait for Elizabeth."

Elizabeth walks in and wheels a teary eyed Willow back to her room. "I take it that he's not up yet?"

"Nope, he's still not up. I spilled my guts to him and he's still asleep or whatever he's doing," Willow explains to her, showing off her lack of medical knowledge.

"Well, I'm sure he'll be up in a few hours, Willow. This is Michael we're talking about, he'll pull through. He always does."

When she says that, the pair have reached the room, which is still crowded with people. Willow gets herself back in bed, despite the pain that causes. After all, it's not like she's going to die getting in bed.

More time passes, and everyone goes into Michael's room until everyone's visited and he's still unconscious. It's heartbreaking, knowing that the longer he takes to wake up, the lower his chances of survival are. Medical odds are terrible sometimes.

Jason goes back into Michael's room, noting that his phone was left there on accident. Willow nods her head, pretending she heard what he said.

When he comes back, there's a huge smile on his face very unlike what you have happen when you find your phone. "Michael's awake," he says.

Tears of sadness are replaced with tears of joy as the room gets a much happier energy. "Can I go see him?" Willow asks, already getting out of bed and into the wheelchair that has been left at her bedside.

"He's asking for you," Jason says, hugging Sam tight to him.

Willow smiles widely as Dante pushes her down the hall. "Please let this make you two say how you feel about each other," he smirks.

"I already have, but I don't know if he heard it," Willow smiles at him.

"Well, sister in law and cousin in law in a completely unconvoluted way, I think he did and know he feels the same so if you two aren't together by the end of this, I will be very upset," Dante jests as they reach Michael's room.

He steers her up to his bedside, as close as she can get, and then leaves the room.

"Willow," Michael says, voice quiet. It's probably because he's just speaking again after major heart surgery.

"I'm right here," Willow smiles, grabbing his hand gently.

She watches as a smile comes across his face and he looks at her with the look he always gives her. "Good. I don't want you leaving me alone in here. This room is kinda creepy and very boring, but you make it happier. You make everything happier. I heard what you said earlier. Well, parts of it. It was beautiful and if I wasn't coming out of an anesthetic because I got shot, I'd probably be able to say something much more beautiful than I'm about to, but I love you. So please stay married to me."

"I would love nothing more than to stay married to you, Michael," Willow tells her husband truthfully. "You scared me for a while there, I was so worried that you'd die on me before we could have our love story."

"Hey, I'm not that bad. I would never die on you and Wiley. But our love story has already begun, because it's been brewing since we met. Now, it's just turning romantic officially," he smiles at his wife. "If you think of it, us getting shot was kind of a great thing because now we're telling each other what we otherwise wouldn't be."

"Thank you for showing up when you did," she thanks him, "and for saving me. I would've died had it not been for your bravery."

"I wasn't being brave, I was so pissed I wanted to kill those bastards but I needed to keep you safe. So I took a bullet to the chest, but it's worth it," Michael explains. "If you died, I would have never forgiven myself. So thank you for being a good hostage to them so that no one actively wanted to kill you until I got there with my dad and Jason."

They both let out a chuckle, though Michael winces in pain a few times. "That wheelchair can't be comfortable for your back, do you want to come up here? There's plenty of room."

"I don't know if Portia would allow that," Willow smirks at him, "but I doubt she'd object too harshly."

Several minutes later, Willow's in the hospital bed next to Michael and they're both fast asleep.

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