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Smoke Eater - Part 17
Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. ReaderÂ
Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but heâs also known to break a few hearts. Heâs starting to crave something heâs never had, though. Something stable. Something real.Â
Thatâs when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.
AN: Ready for some feels? â€ïžâđ©č
đ„ Series Masterlist
Word Count: 5,500 Tags/Warnings: Angst, injuries, hurt/comfort and feels, tinge of spice.~
Part 17: âThe Real Dealâ
The first time Dean was awake for longer than a few minutes, he asked about you.
Sam wasnât surprised. He was frankly relieved that he had an answer for his brother.
âShe has carbon monoxide poisoning,â he said. Deanâs brows furrowed, but before he could start worrying too badly, Sam cut in again. âSheâs okay. Theyâve got her on 100% oxygen. Eileen and AndrĂ©a are with her right now.â
Dean nodded on a breath of relief, despite coughing himself. He still wore an oxygen mask, but he knew his exposure hadnât been as bad as yours.
âCO poisoningâs no joke. Donât let her take off that damn mask for anything until they clear her,â he said.
Sam raised a placating hand. âDonât worry. She knows sheâs got to stay put this time.â
Dean shook his head. You were so damn stubborn. He still couldnât believe youâd dragged yourself out of bed within minutes of waking up, just to see him.
âŠWell, he could believe it, but he didnât have to like it.
âOkay, do you need anything before Eileen and I run home to get you guys some stuff?â Sam asked.
Heâd already drawn up a list for both you and Dean of things you two would need for the next couple of days in the hospital. Deanâs stay would likely be longer than yours.
âNah, Iâm good, man,â Dean replied.
He was still trying to find a comfortable position in bed. His back couldnât fully touch the mattress, so he had to lie on one side or the other. Truth be told, it sucked. His head swam with the effects of the painkillers and antibiotics they were pumping him with, along with his head injury.
While his body wanted to keep sleeping, Dean wanted to see you. He wanted to make sure you were all right. He wanted to know what happened before the fire, and how youâd found out about Nick being Azazelâs son.
And he wanted to get you both home.
He wasnât sure if he was going to get to do any of those things, any time soon. Â
Sam saw his discomfort and frowned in sympathy. He went over to help Dean shift onto his other side. Dean shot him a look of annoyance, but Sam was firm.
âLet me help, or Iâm calling Nurse Jeff,â he warned.
Dean's lips pursed. Jeff was nice and all, but Dean could concede this time. At least when it was his brother helping him, he didnât feel like a complete invalid. Â
âAndrĂ©aâs gonna stay with her?â Dean asked, while Sam helped him ease over and nodded at his question.
âYeah. Ellen and Jo are on the way too. Theyâll keep you company.â
Dean wanted to quip that he didnât need a babysitter, but he held it in. It would be nice to see Ellen. He remembered seeing his father, briefly, before he fell back asleep. Sam told him John had gone back to the precinct to work out their protective detail, once you and Dean were eventually discharged from the hospital.
Over the last few hours, the rest of his team from Firehouse 25 had come in to see him in small groups, including Benny, Gordon, and Jack, Meg and Chuck, and Bobby himself, with his gruff worrying. Dean knew the Chief felt responsible anytime his firefighters got hurt, but Dean also knew the only one to blame was himself.
Still, he didnât regret breaking ranks to go and find you. Heâd never regret that choice.
Samâs hand on his shoulder grounded Dean back into reality.
âOkay, Iâll be back,â said Sam.
Dean nodded, with a hint of a smile. âAll right, Sasquatch. Get goinâ then.â  Â
Samâs face betrayed his dry amusementâŠand a hint of fondness. He squeezed the shoulder he held, and hesitated, almost like he was steadying himself before he left his brother alone.
âHey,â Dean said. He gave his little brother a true smile, if one edged with tiredness. âIâm okay. I donât break easy.â
After a moment, Sam nodded. His lips flickered at a smile.
âYeah, I know,â he replied, clearing his throat. Before they both mightâve succumbed to a dreaded âchick flick moment,â as Dean called them, there was a knock at the door. Ellenâs head soon peeked through into the hospital room. She smiled as soon as her gaze landed on Sam and Dean.
âThereâs my boys,â she said. Sam welcomed her in, along with Jo, before he slipped out. The Harvelles brought food, of course, for you and Dean. And Ellen had bought some flowers.
Dean took off his oxygen mask and teased her a little. âOoh, for me? You shouldnât have.â
Ellen shook her head at his familiar antics. Jo came up on his other side of his bed and gave him a softer smile than usual. He tried to return it.
âThese are for your girl,â said Ellen. âHowâs she doinâ? Have you been able to see her?â
Deanâs good humor dimmed. âSheâs got carbon monoxide poisoning from the fire, but Sam tells me sheâs resting. I havenât been able to get over there yet.â
Ellen frowned, but she nodded and rubbed his arm. âOkay, well you just stay here and rest. Iâll go over and bring these to her, make sure sheâs doing all right. Then Iâll come back and give you a full report. Howâs that?â
Dean met her gaze with relief and gratefulness in his. âThanks, Ellen.â
She nodded, giving him a motherly pat on the cheek. Maybe her brown eyes welled up with tears she would refuse to shed. And maybe Dean pretended he didnât see them, knowing how sheâd hate for him to call her out. Â
âYou two are gonna be just fine,â she said. Dean agreed with a nod and a smile. She left soon after with the flowers, discreetly wiping at her face.
When the door shut behind her, Jo took a seat beside his bed. She was looking around at the wires, the monitors, the minor burns and scrapes on his face, while trying not to look at the gauze spanning his upper back.
âHowâre you really feeling?â she asked eventually, when she was able to meet his gaze.
Dean chuckled a little. âLike shit.â
She laughed too, though it soon ended in tears. She bit her lip against it, with her eyes squeezing shut.
Dean faltered. âHey, none aâ that.â
It was an effort, but he reached for her shoulder. She clasped his hand there, then she held it between both of hers. Dean squeezed her hands.
âIâm okay. Scouts honor,â he said. He wished he didnât have to keep telling people that, but here they were.
When she drew his hand against her cheek though, Dean internally sighed. He had to pull away.
Jo felt the loss of his hand, and of him. She looked up at him with sad blue eyes. Dean couldnât answer her. Or at least, he couldnât give her the one she wanted.
She ducked her head and tried not to cry harder.
âJo,â Dean sighed. âListen to me.â
She wiped at her face and managed to look up at him again. He was direct, but still gentle as he could be.
âYou know I love you like family,â he said, âbut you also knowâŠI canât be that guy for you.â
Her brows furrowed as she shook her head. âWe had something, Dean.â
âWe did,â he acknowledged. He could admit that much, even as he blew out a breath. âI fucked it up.â
At that, Joâs face shifted towards resignation. âI did my fair share.â
âYou were worried about me on the job, thatâs all.â
âBut you also didnât fight for me. The second it got hard, you left and called it quits.â
âI know,â Dean admitted. He thought hard, and he nodded. He was a different man when he and Jo began. He hadnât totally figured out what it was he wanted. Heâd just known, instinctively, that it was different with her. Heâd wanted to try to be more for her.
But, heâd let Ellenâs warnings and his own fears take over. He knew heâd been a coward, and at the time, heâd convinced himself that Jo was better off without that in her life. He knew now how that had just been a nice justification for breaking her heart.
âI know,â he repeated. âI guess I wasnât ready for the real dealâŠbut youâre the first one who made me want to try.â
Jo heaved a tremulous sigh, laced with tears that she brushed away from her face. She had already known it, deep down, but now she supposed she had closure. She knew now that he loved you, for real.
âAnd sheâs the one who made it stick,â Jo supplied.
âYeah,â Dean said. The truth was in his eyes. Sheâs the one.
After a moment, in which Jo locked away the rest of her heartbreak and denied herself a flash of jealousy, she wiped her face dry and looked up at Dean. Â
âThen you rest up,â she said, with a small smile and red-rimmed eyes. âAnd whatever happens next, you better fight for her.â
Dean smiled back. He gestured at his prone form with a hand.
âAnd what do you think Iâm doing here?â
âLooks to me like youâre sitting on your ass,â she quipped.
Dean laughed so hard he started coughing. Jo shook her head and helped him put his oxygen mask back on.
âGod, youâre a mess,â she said.
Dean gave her a mock incredulous look. âHey, no sympathy for the injured here?â
âIf it was sympathy you wanted, you shouldâve kept the mask on.â
Hours later, Sam and Eileen came back freshly showered and with plenty of clothes and necessities for you and Dean. And when his hospital room door opened, Dean fought through the haze of the drugs and his swimming head to wake up. He smiled at Eileen, who stepped through the door first. But then his eyes widened.
Sam carefully guided you in a wheelchair, with your oxygen tank rolling in next to you. You held the mask to your face, but Dean still spotted the edge of your smile.
Your eyes shone bright with unshed tears the closer you came. He had to clear his throat himself before he reached for your hand at the same time you held out for his.
âHey,â you said.
âHey, yourself,â Dean replied. He brought your hand to his lips and held it there. âHow you doinâ, sweetheart?â
âIâm okay, thanks to you,â you said, smiling, even though your voice shook. Tears slipped down your cheeks. Your lips trembled, and your face ducked down. âIâm soâŠso sorry.â
Dean frowned and squeezed your hand. âDonât you do that. This isnât on you.â
You shook your head, like you didnât believe him. Or you didnât want to believe.
He wasnât having that.
âHey, look at me,â he demanded. He tugged on your hand, until finally you did as he said. Your eyes were red and spilling over with tears. It made his heart clench, and out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Sam holding Eileen close. Both of them were getting emotional, though Sam was trying not to.Â
Jo stood with her mother in the corner. While Ellen dabbed at her eyes, Jo had to avert her gaze. That part, Dean didn't notice, because his lips pressed together as he returned his attention back to you.
âYou donât gotta worry about me,â he said. âIâll shake this in a few weeks. Tops.â
You nodded, but your denial was still obvious as your shoulders trembled. He could see there was no reasoning with you on this one, so he just tugged you closerâas close as you could get without leaving your wheelchair or taking off your oxygen mask.
He managed to reach for your face, soothing his thumb across your tear-stained cheek. You covered his hand and kept him there, for as long as he was able.
You were discharged from the hospital a couple of days later. It was a few more before Dean was able to join you. He wasnât happy to learn that his head injury would put him out of commission for at least one to three months.
You wished he would be more fair to himself. Heâd suffered a subdural hematoma after he was struck by the beam. The doctor officially labelled it a TBI, or a concussion, and he was already dealing with headaches and bouts of vertigo.
Not to mention the large second-degree burn that was only just starting to heal across his upper back. The doctor also warned that he might suffer some mood swings, due to the head injury.
Meanwhile, you were starting to recover from your cuts and yellowing bruises. Though the carbon monoxide had been driven out of your system, you still had your own headaches, nausea, and a lingering cough.
You both were a bit of a mess. Sam and Eileen had incredible patience, and you were so grateful for their help in those first days back home in Sam and Deanâs apartment. However, you couldnât shake off your nature to help as much as you could in taking care of Dean while Sam and Eileen were back at work.
You knew your boyfriend wasnât used to being catered to. He didnât like being, what he deemed in his mind, âuseless.â In your mind, that was just too damn bad. He was going to be cared for whether he liked it or not.
So you helped Dean adjust where he lied in bed for the third time this morning, arranging the pillows just so. All while you ignored his crabby mood.
âHowâs that?â you asked, fluffing one more pillow between the small of his back and the headboard. Youâd managed to find a way for him to sit up without his upper back touching the bedframe.
âFine,â he said grumpily. He was channel surfing on the TV above his dresser. âAnd it was fine half an hour ago.âÂ
His mood was always dour after a shower; it meant you had to help him stand, and make sure he didnât kill himself by slipping and falling. You sighed and brushed your fingers through his wet hair, mindful of the shaved and bandaged portion on the back of his head. He sure was an awful patient.Â
âYou used to like it when I joined you in the shower,â you tried to tease gently. He shot you a glance.
âYeah, that was before I could barely piss standing up,â he replied. You rubbed his arm.
âCome on, babe. Donât be like this. Youâll be healed up in a couple of months, and we can put this behind us,â you said. If he really wanted you not to feel guilty about his current state, then he was doing a bang-up job.
Dean turned to you then, and you understood the look on his face. Will it really be over?
You couldnât fault him for it because you didnât know the answer either. You both knew that Savage & Co. burning down was likely just another battle with Azazel, not the end of the war.Â
And that was when John and Cas arrived for a visit, with the doorbell interrupting the silence. It was the first time theyâd come together, and that told you one thing: this was more than a familial check-in.
You welcomed them into the apartment and made some coffee for everyone. Cas helped you get the mugs ready in the kitchen. Meanwhile, it gave John a moment with his son.
John dragged a desk chair over and sat by Deanâs side of the bed.
âHowâs your head?â John asked.
Dean nodded, though his face said he wished people would stop asking him that.
âOn the mend,â he replied instead.
John nodded in return. The space between them was awkward and quiet, except for the drone of the TV. Both men had their protective walls and their thoughts, but neither one was able to lower their guard.
When you and Cas came into the room with fresh coffee, it was a silent relief all around. You sat beside Dean in bed and handed him a mug of decaf. You mightâve claimed it was the real stuff, but Deanâs nose knew the difference; he didnât play when it came to his coffee. Yet another reason why he hated being on these antibiotics.Â
âSo, letâs start from the beginning,â John said. He lowered his mug into his lap and looked straight at you. âWhat happened before the fire? Start from the very top of the day.â
You took in a deep breath and glanced at both Cas and Dean. Cas seemed encouraging, while Dean looked just as grave and interested as his father.Â
You explained everything from the moment Marv came to give you his report, intended for Nick. You were going to just leave it with his assistant, but his office door had been open a crack, and youâd heard the voices within. Youâd been curious enough to approach the door and listen in.
You recounted what youâd heard between Nick and the other man.
âWeâre working together on this,â said Nick. âKeep an eye on the cop. Wait for an opportunity.â
âTogether, huh? Azazel has his orders. You trying to take his place?â the other man replied. His voice was thin and nasal. You saw his profile, however. His eyes were dangerous.
Your eyes widened at the implications of his words though. Azazel?!
âDad agrees with me. The guyâs not getting the hint, so weâll need to remind him who really makes the rules,â Nick said.
Your eyes widened. Holy shitâŠNickâs father is Azazel.
You clasped a hand over your mouth before the gasp could escape. A sharp breath still echoed through the hall. The menâs heads began to turn, but you did as wellâaway from the door and booking it down the hall as quietly and quickly as you could.
You remembered going back to your office, just to find Nick Savage waiting for you.
Deanâs grip on the bedsheets tightened when you told that part of the story. You tried to spare the details, but there were some things you couldnât avoidâŠ
A strong hand grabbed you and hefted you up. You felt a trickle of wetness rolling down the side of your face as you stared up into his. It mustâve been blood, but all you could focus on was the satisfaction in Nickâs eyes. Finally, they seemed to say.
But then he paused. Confusion was written across his face.
âDo you smell smoke?â he asked. You both saw it climbing under the door of your office.
It was a distraction that broke you out of your frozen fear.
On pure instinct, you jabbed at Nickâs ribs with your taser.
âAfter IâŠmanaged to get out of my office, thatâs when I saw the smoke,â you said. Your voice became a tad more unsteady as the memories flit through your mind.
âIt was chaos. People were getting trampled trying to get down the stairsâŠand when we saw the fire coming from below too, I barely made it out of the stairwell.â
You raised a slightly trembling hand to your mouth, but a warm hand slipped into yours, taking it from you. You met Deanâs furrowed brows and softened eyes.
âCome âere,â he said quietly. You let him pull you towards him, against his side, and you blinked past the sting of tears.
âThe rest you guys know,â you continued. âI couldnât get out. Dean and his guys came and found me. He got hurt trying to get us out of there.â
Deanâs hand rubbed up and down your arm in comfort. He pressed a kiss to your forehead while you wiped at the few tears that managed to escape.
âDid you see Nick at all after what happened in the office?â John asked.
You shook your head. âNo. I hope he burned to a damn crisp.â
âHeâs officially missing, but his body hasnât yet been identified from the remains at the building site,â said Cas.
That sobered you. You knew there were many people who hadnât made it out of the building in time. You just couldnât fathom the kind of person who would intentionally set that fire, damn the costs.
âWhat about the other man he was talking to?â John asked. You shook your head, but you provided a detailed description of him, from what you could remember: tall and lean, graying short hair, a nasal sounding voice.
âAny other details you can remember? Anything at all. Could be something you saw or heard, or even smelled,â John pressed.
Your lips pursed. The stress alone of reliving all of this was giving you a headache, not to mention making your chest feel tight. Your reply was a bit more clipped than you intended.
âWhat, other than the part where I was fighting for my life?â you said. âI think I gave a pretty good statement of the events, Detective.â
John paused. His mouth firmed, but he watched you with more sympathetic eyes. Dean saw that his father was trying to ease up. He rubbed your back in comfort again.
âAll right, itâs okay,â said Dean. âYou did good.â
You glanced at him and took a small, steadying breath. You relaxed a bit and met Johnâs gaze.
âIâm sorry,â you said, with sincerity. âIf I remember something else, Iâll let you know.â
John nodded.
âThatâs all right. Weâve got enough to arrest Nick Savage on assault charges, once we find him.â He shared a brief look with Cas. âIn the meantime, weâve got a couple of guys stationed outside the apartment building here. Theyâll keep an eye on things.â
You and Dean nodded; it was a relief, but also disconcerting to know the police were watching you. A chime on your phone soon distracted you though. You reached over for where it lay on your nightstand and read the reminder notification. You turned to Dean.
âReady for your pain meds?â you asked him. You saw the answer in the tightness around his tired eyes. You rubbed a soothing hand on his thigh. âYou should eat something first though. Want some of the soup Eileen made?â
Dean shrugged, making an unenthusiastic sound. Your head tilted as you considered him. Then, an idea struck you.
âOoh, I could make you a grilled cheese on the side,â you offered in a tempting tone. Your leading smile was just enough to get Dean to smile back, if more reserved.
âHmm?â you prompted. âCome on, three different cheeses on some buttery breadâŠâ
His smile became more genuine. âOkay, sounds good.â
You nodded and pat his thigh once more. You looked up at the detectives.
âYou guys want lunch?â you asked. John started to shake his head, but Dean cut in.
âTrust me, you want to get in on this,â he said. The promise of your cooking managed to cut through some of the haze of his pain and discomfort.
Cas conceded first, with a nod. Though he got up from where heâd been sitting at the end of the bed.
âIâll help,â he said, rolling up his sleeves. He soon followed you downstairs into the kitchen.
Again, it left father and son glancing at one another in silence. John was leaning elbows on his knees, hands folded. His lips drew upwards as he looked up at his eldest.
âWant some advice from an old man?â he asked.
âWhatâs that?â Dean replied.
John nodded, quirking a smile. âHold onto that girl.â
A couple of weeks later, however, tensions were still running high. Dean was frustrated with his own inability, worsening with each bout of vertigo, and every time the pain in his skull necessitated a pill to cope with it. Part of it was also that he needed so much of your help when Sam was at work.
Every time Dean saw you cooking, cleaning, changing his bandages, reminding him to take his meds, helping him get around when he was feeling offâŠ
He was grateful, more than you knew. He just couldnât feel right about letting you do it all when he saw how tired you were. You were still healing up too. And he could only imagine how stressed you were after everything youâd been through in the past few weeks. Hell, in the past few months.
He felt guilty, and useless, and angry at how youâd gotten caught up in all this, and at Nick Savage and Azazel and everything in between.
So Dean now stewed in all of this while he sat watching mindless reruns of some dumbass show about fake ghost hunters, even though he was trying not to think of anything at all. Somehow he had nothing to do but think, even though the meds he was taking often made him want to crawl into bed and sleep.
You appeared from down the hall, looking and smelling like your nice floral soap after a shower, wearing nothing more than one of his old shirts. Your thighs were bare. Your hair was twisted up on top of your head, just asking to be taken down with a practiced hand.Â
Dean liked the look of you.
Not that I can do anything about it, came a dull reminder.
You came around the couch with a roll of gauze and a medicated cream for his burns.
âOkay, Dean. Letâs go ahead and change the bandages,â you said, nodding at his back.
He was reluctant to move. He was finally somewhat comfortable sitting in the corner of the couch with a shit ton of pillows propped against his lower back. And he hadnât told you this, but a headache had been building for the last hour. Heâd been trying to wean himself off the pain meds.
âIt can wait until Sam gets home,â he said. âWhy donât you relax? Take a nap or something.â
You frowned at him, tilting your head. âSam works late every night. Doesnât it make more sense to get it over with now?â
âYou see it would, if you hadnât already done it yesterday,â Dean replied, with a dry edge to his tone.
You arched a brow at him. You'd re-bandaged the burn across his back yesterday morning. It was now late afternoon.
âThe doctor said once a day,â you said. âYou want to get an infection?â
The back of Deanâs head pulsed with pain. He gritted his teeth in trying to ignore it.
âYou want to get off my back? Literally?â he snarked.
You frowned at him and set down the medical supplies. Your hands went to your hips as you looked down at him.
âI donât appreciate the attitude,â you said. âIâm just trying to help you.â
âI get that, but you donât have to take care of me right now,â he said. âYou can just let me watch this shitty-ass show in peace.â
Your brows knitted together. Both of you were stubborn, if in different flavors. You tried to come at it with a gentler approach, drawing near him to set a hand on his shoulder.
âI know itâs unpleasant, but you canât change your bandages by yourself,â you said. Your thumb swept along his neck. You really hated seeing him in so much discomfort. âDonât you want to get it over with so you can relax for the rest of the day?â
A sharper pain pulsed behind his eyes for a moment, making Dean take in a deeper breath through his nose. He could later admit, he lost patience with you (and his temper).
He turned off the TV and tossed down the remote.
âWhat is this compulsive need you have to control everything? Do everything?â he snapped. âContrary to what you might think, I donât need you to wipe my ass! Just give it a goddamn rest!â
Irritation was hot under his skinâŠuntil he actually looked up at your face. The open-mouthed look of shock, and hurt, your eyes welling up with tears as your hand fell away from his shoulderâŠ
Thatâs when Dean knew this concussion was fucking with him.
There was no way he could be this much of an asshole, could he?
âShit. Baby,â he tried, but you shook your head at him, making a negative sound when he reached for you. You walked away from him.
âHold on!â said Dean. His first attempt to get off the couch was unsuccessful, and it made his head swim.
âSon of a bitch,â he muttered. He grimaced in annoyance, but he used the couch and the coffee table as leverage and pushed through onto his feet.
Once he knew he was steady, he thought he heard you in the kitchen. He found you there, trying to hide your face behind the open door of the pantry while you cried. It broke his heart, really.
âSweetheart,â he called to you. His hand rested on your back, prompting you to look up at him with red, watery eyes.
âWhat now?â you asked. âWant to yell at me some more?â
Deanâs sad frown deepened as he tugged you closer, guiding you into his arms.
âIâm sorry,â he said. âI really am. I donât know where the hell that came from.âÂ
Maybe the knife stabbing through the back of your head, 'cause you're too stubborn to take all your damn meds, came the dry edge of his conscience.
You held onto him as tightly as you dared while you pressed your tear-stained face into his chest.
âThat wasnât you, Dean,â you said. âI get that youâre in pain, and that you're frustrated, but you donât have to white-knuckle it. Or take it out on me, for that matter.â
ââŠI know,â he agreed, laying a kiss on your forehead. âIf it happens again, I give you full permission to slap me. Concussion be damned.â
You snorted at that, despite a couple more tears slipping down your cheeks. You wiped them away.
âI know I was being a bit pushy,â you said, with a sigh. âBut Sam does work late. Iâd feel like shit just lying around here waiting for him to help you. And Iâm the reason this all happened anyway, so I might as wellââ
âWait. Stop,â Dean said. He pulled away so he could grasp your arms and look down at you. His brows furrowed, and his jaw worked. âWhat did you just say?â
You looked up at him, and he saw the vulnerability in your eyes. Your lips pressed together, and you averted your gaze.
âNo,â he said, curling his fingers under your chin and lifting your face back up to his. He didnât like what he saw.
âOkay. Sit with me,â he said. He guided you to the dining table, where he pulled out both chairs. After you sat, he raised a waiting finger to you, just so he could grab his prescription from the kitchen counter and down what should've been his morning dose of pain medication with some water. Then he returned to the table and sat across from you.
By the time he got you to look at him again, your eyes were already filled with tears. He took your hands in both of his.
âWhat happened to me wasnât your fault,â Dean said at last. Heâd said it before, but apparently it hadnât gotten through your head.
âYou disobeyed a direct order to find me,â you argued.Â
âI wouldâve gotten called to that fire no matter what,â Dean countered. Still, that didnât seem to sway you.
âYou donât know what it was like,â you said. You squeezed his hands, and your voice shook. âWhen I saw you in the ICUâŠâ
All those wires, the newly wrapped burns, the oxygen mask, his skin pale and clammy, and his eyes closedâŠ
âBefore you got to me, of course I was scared. For a minute there, I thought I was going to die,â you managed to say. His hold tightened on yours. âBut in that room, it wasâŠit was different. It was you, but it was also my grandfather all over again. And I was so damn afraid.â
After that confession, you crumbled once again.
Dean slid his chair forward and held you close. His fingers swept through your hair after taking down your haphazard bun. He managed to pull you into his lap and he shushed you gently.
He glanced up heavenward and actually asked George for the right thing to say to you right now, because he had no damn clue.
After a moment, he released a humorless chuckle.
âYou wanna know fear?â he said. âWhen my dad told me what youâd found out about Nick. And when I got the call that the building was on fire, somehow, I knew you were still in there.â
His fingers brushed along the shallow cut above your brow that was still healing.
âYou had to deal with that bastard by yourself. That alone pretty much kills me,â Dean admitted. âAnd if I hadnât gotten to you when I didâŠIâll never regret that. Ever. Iâll take the whole damn building on top of me if thatâs what it takes.â
You leaned back and shook your head at him, but he took your chin between his fingers and stilled you.  Â
âBut I told you,â Dean said firmly. âIâm not leaving you.â
Your eyes met his before you let out a shaky breath. Maybe this time you would believe him.
He leaned down and kissed you soundly, so youâd get the idea. Your hand reached up to caress his cheek, and you moaned when his tongue caressed yours. His hand tightened on your hip.
âDean.â Your warning was gentle. The doctor hadnât cleared this yet for him, and he knew it.
âJust a little bit,â he said, smiling against your lips. His hand slipped under your (his) shirt and teased the edge of your panties.
You sighed with conflicting need when you felt the pads of his fingers stroke you through the fabric. It also stroked your arousal back to life.
âOkay, bedroom,â you caved. âBut go easy. Iâm serious, Dean.â
He smirked and pressed a kiss to the side of your head.
âOh, Iâll definitely be easy.â
AN: Lol trust Dean to push his limits there. đ
We also got some closure on the Jo & Dean arc, some supportive Sam and Eileen, and some major feels.
In Part 18, Sam and John work together to try and pin down Nick and Daniel/Azazel, Law & Order style...
Next Time:
The charges included four counts of murder in the first degree: the murders-for-hire, enacted by Alastair Rolston.
Followed by attempted murder in the first degree, ten counts of murder in the second degree (those who had lost their lives in the most recent building fire), conspiracy to commit murder, arson, and if that werenât enough, a charge each of attempted sexual assault and sexual harassment.
When the last two charges were read out loud in the courtroom, Nick looked visibly angry.
Sam glanced over at the defendant with thinly veiled satisfaction. Some days, it was difficult for him to come to work.
Today was not that day.
âAll right, that is a laundry list of potential misdeeds,â Judge Deveraux remarked. He looked up at Nick Savage. âHow does the defendant plead?â
At the prodding of his lawyer, Amelia Richardson, Nick spoke up.
âNot guilty,â he said. Though he rolled his eyes, as if this was a waste of his time.
âWhatâs the deal here, Mr. Winchester?â Judge Devereaux asked.
âThe primary charges are murder-for-hire, your Honor,â Sam replied.
Keep Reading: PART 18
Dean Winchester Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Series Tag List (Part 1):
@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb
@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91
@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @katherineann814 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19
@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420
#The Real Deal#Smoke Eater#Part 17#dean winchester#Firefighter!Dean Winchester#dean winchester x reader#Dean Winchester x female reader#firefighter!Dean Winchester x Reader#dean winchester x you#firefighter AU#dean winchester AU#spn#supernatural#john winchester#sam winchester#eileen leahy#Castiel#Jo Harvelle#ellen harvelle#zepskies writes
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Everyone's comm beeps in their ear, drawing their attention. "Kon, Jon, Cassie, and Bart all know now. I'm bribing them with the footage of Phase One." Tim's voice says. Their comms beep again and the line goes silent.
Dick sighs. Yeah, that checks. Honestly, he's surprised those four hadn't been told way earlier than now.
"What's wrong?" Wally asks from beside him.
"Nothing," ha answers. He finishes the drink in his hand in one go.
Wally snorts softly. "Yeah, sure. I assume someone's blown it?"
"Tim and Dami. Both Superboy's, Wonder Girl, and Impulse all know now."
"Our Wonder Girl?"
"Tim's.
"Ah." A beat. "The problem?"
"No problem. Though, B might say something."
"I thought he was all for telling the teams?"
"He is! This was all his idea! But Tim's bribing the other four with the footage of the Cave."
"You mean the footage that I haven't seen yet?"
"Yep."
"Then what are we waiting for?" Wally grabs his hand, "Let's go get Donna and go watch!"
Dick sighs again and goes along. He clicks his own comm on and says, "Me, Wally, and Donna are gonna come watch, too. Wally insists."
Damian's voice comes next. "Since when does Troy know?"
"Probably since I told her and Wally."
"What?" Steph's voice whines, "You've had two people know for so long?"
Before he can respond, Barbra hisses, "Hey! This is supposed to be a distraction free line, guys."
Jason snorts, "Me, Roy, Lian, and Duke are on our way, too. You girls should come watch; we'll make a party out of it."
"Good idea," Cass says.
Dick can see Bruce on the other side of the room, unable to react to a thing that's being said in his ear. Ha!
***
Bruce watched his kids all leave the room. He's glad that their teams know, though why did they have to let it slip while the party was still going on? Oh, well, nothing to do about it now. Especially because Oliver's agreed to give a speech.
"Ollie, dear, it's time for your speech now, isn't it?"
"Ah, yes." Oliver says, light pink dusting his cheeks at the address Bruce had been using since they were in high school. He made his way to the stage, the band quieting as he took the podium. "If I may have everyone's attention for just a moment?"
Great start, Ollie.
"Like all of you, the invitation to this gala tonight came as a surprise. A welcome one, but a surprise nonetheless. Now, I won't keep your attention for long, but, on behalf of Bruce, I'd like to thank everyone for coming tonight. This Gala tonight, Charity for Justice, is a fantastic way for us to give back to the people who work so hard to save us. And it's not just the Justice League; Doctors, Teachers, Veterans, et cetera. They're all heroes who deserve all the help we can give them. Being here tonight, while it may seem superficial, is a step in the right direction to helping the heroes of the world. Now, I don't know how Bruce is going to get this money to the Justice League, but I'm not one to questions his ways or his motivations. He's been a friend of mine since we were in high school, and I trust him with my life. Thank you, Bruce, for hosting tonight; And thank you all for coming and donating." Nodding to the audience, Oliver walked from the stage as they clapped.
Bruce smiled at Oliver as they met at the bottom of the stairs leading to the stage. "Thanks, Ollie. I didn't know you trusted me so much."
Oliver matched his smile. "'Course I do, Brucie! And what you're doing tonight is really good. I might just have to steal this idea from you."
Laughing, Bruce patted Oliver's shoulder before taking his place on the stage. "Thanks, Oliver, for speaking tonight. I know it was last minute, but you did great." The crowd chuckled a bit as Oliver raised the glass he now held. "At the risk of sounding like a broken record, thanks again, everyone, for coming here tonight. I know a lot of you are far from home, but it means a lot that you made the trip out.
"Admittedly, this entire gala was a spur of the moment decision. My kids, actually, came up with the idea, so if you're going to thank anyone, it should be them. They did everything on their own while sat back and let them do their thing.
"When you think of heroes, you're most likely to think of the Justice League and their sidekicks. But, who were the heroes before the Justice League was founded? Perseus, Heracles, Aeneas, Remus, Romulus, Vldar, Ragnar Lodbrok, Hua Mulan, Guan Yu. All of them were warriors. But, does combat make a hero? I don't think so. I think the thing that makes a hero is the willingness to help; the willingness to give even if you have nothing to give; the willingness to do what it takes to make sure someone gets to live even just a little bit longer.
"Oxford dictionary defines the word 'hero' as "a person who is admired or idealized for their courage, outstanding achievements, or noble qualities". While I agree, I think that this is a much too niche definition. After all, I've met hundreds of people who I would consider heroes, heard thousands more stories- and not one of them has been 'admired' or 'idealised' for it.
"Tonight, I've asked for donations from each of you. All of the money will be going towards helping the heroes of the world; those who are recognised as such, those who aren't, and everyone in between. Every donation made will be matched by not only myself, but Wayne Industries as well. Then, all the money will be anonymously give to the heroes of every city represented here.
"Again, I'm so glad everyone could make it tonight, and I'm beyond glad that you've all be generous enough to help our heroes. Please enjoy the rest of your evening." The applause was loud as he walked off stage, the music picking up softly before crescendoing as the crowd began talking again.
The comm in his ear clicked just before Barbra started speaking. "That was a good speech, B. Brought some of us to tears."
He picked up a drink and sipped it as he spoke into his own comm piece. "You're watching the cameras?"
"Naturally," Damian said.
"We're all too comfortable to move," Tim explained, "So Bab's pulled the cameras up on the TV just as Oliver finished speaking."
"I've never heard Batman talk so much..." That was Bart Allen, clearly close enough to hear him over Tim's line, but not close enough to be intentional.
"Hell," Donna was probably sprawled across Dick and Wally, "I've never seen him express emotion and I knew who he was!"
Bruce hid a laugh and a smirk behind his drink. "Watch it, now."
There were a few squeaks as the comms all clicked off, Barbra taking care of his as well.
The ballroom was emptying, slower than he would like, but faster than expected. The kids (because that's what they are, no matter how old they may be) all trickled back into the ballroom, waving goodbye and joining their families as they went, though his own kept themselves near the door to say goodbye to everyone leaving. He decided to join them.
Just as Oliver, Dinah, Roy, and Lian were leaving, he stopped his old friend and pulled him aside.
Oliver's guard was still down, relaxed even as Bruce pulled him into a completely empty room and shut the door. He heard the click of a comm turning on, though no one spoke, so he could only assume it was his own.
"I was just about to head home; What's up, Bruce?"
"Oliver, there's something I need to tell you." This was gonna be so funny.
"Bruce?"
When had first started out, he knew that having the same voice in and out of costume would be a potentially detrimental mistake, so he'd dropped his voice as low as he dared and added the grit to it. Eventually, he'd gotten a voice changer, but he'd kept up the training to make sure he didn't damage his voice in case the voice changer ever broke.
Taking a deep breath, Bruce turned around and dropped his voice. "I'm Batman."
Part 16 Part 18
#Batman's Biggest Hater#part 17#bruce wayne is batman's biggest hater#batman is dramatic and i will die on this hill#dc#dcu#justice league#dc comics#pranks#they're a family of detectives#using their powers for good#mostly#this one is really dialogue heavy and i'm only a little bit sorry for that#i don't know how to write parties#this was a mistake#lol#only half kidding about that. too#yes this feels a bit rushed#i've lost motivation for this story (a while ago actually) but i'm determined to finish it#I CAN'T WRITE SPEECHES#this was unnecessarily hard#why are words hard?#omg this is so cheesey#i'm proud of it though#bruce's speech came out really good for me completely winging it
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Apple Seed Dumpster Baby Crossover: Sibling Meeting
Apple Seed 17
Charlie: (laying exhausted in bed with Sammy curled up next to her)
Vaggie: (opens the door and ushers Perri in) Come on, mija. You were so excited to see him before. Where did that energy go?
Perri: (Shuffles in nervously and pitter patters over to the bed, peeking over the edge at the bundle of blankets) Is.... Is that him?
Charlie: (nods tiredly) Mm-hmmm, that's your new brother, little angel.
Perri: *eyes sparkle*
Vaggie: Come on. Up we go. (Picks up Perri and sets her down on the bed next to Sammy)
Perri: (squeaks as she's picked up and set down. She looks up to Vaggie nervously)
Vaggie: Go ahead, mija. Say "Hello".
Perri: (slowly crawls forward and lays on her belly so she can brush her finger against Sammy's cheek) H-Hi, baby.
Charlie: His name is Sammy.
Perri: Hi, Sammy. (Brushes his cheek again and moves to run her finger through his hair) Mita! Mama! He's so soft!
Sammy: (blinks his eyes open, stares at Perri, and coos at her while reaching out a chubby little fist)
Perri: (gasps and wiggles her finger into Sammy's hand) Hi, Sammy! I love you already! (kisses Sammy's little fist)
Charlie & Vaggie: (clutch their hearts) My babies....
#apple seed au#apple seed 17#dumpster baby#part 4#part 17#crossover#chaggie#charlie#vaggie#hazbin hotel#fankid#fan kid#sammy morningstar#perri morningstar#big sister#little brother
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Chapter 17 of Moon Knight and Sun King is NOW UP!
Read on =
AO3
Wattpad
Summary: MâLadyâs group and Sunset trioâs group sit down with their noodles and start their Q&A. MK learns how gold vision works, you get called villainous, Redâs fire powers have you nervous about triggering your apartment's sprinklers, Macaque is being his annoying but strangely helpful self. While Moon and Samadhi are mostly enjoying their noodles while listening to the groups go back and forth.
Part 1
Part 16
#moon knight and sun king#possessed wukong#corrupted monkey king#lmk#lego monkie kid#x reader#lmk sun wukong#lmk six eared macaque#lmk monkey king#lmk mk#lmk qi xiaotian#lmk red son#lmk mei#lmk macaque#lmk fanfic#my fanfic#fanfic#fanfiction#part 17
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Fanatic Intervention Part 17!!!
Okay, it's been a bit so quick recap: We just spent the evening at a dive bar singing karaoke and learning that 1) Jesus is a 13-year-old rich white kid with rich parents living in L.A. and 2) Muriel is missing. The Angel of Sardis gave us a lovely fishbowl (alcoholic drink since no one in this world has bothered to ask Reader's age because I have more room to play that way) as a reward for singing Taylor Swift (Shake it Off). We pick up our story The Morning After.
Also, since the poll about Sardis tied, I'm taking it to mean that everyone needs/wants more time with him to figure him out. Fortunately people also voted to bring him along, so we get to have LOTS OF THAT!! :D
Brandenburg Concerto No. 3 in G Major for anyone who's curious.
What music do you think Anathema likes??
Let's do this!!
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The next morning you sit at the table in the dining room of the massive Ritz hotel suite, staring into your coffee. You have a headache, and no one else seems to be faring too much better. If only it was just a hangover. A miracle from either Aziraphale or Crowley could fix a hangover, but there was no way that a miracle of any size could make your situation any less bleak.
Aziraphale, angel that he literally is, had thought to order in breakfast from the kitchens. You look from your coffee to the waiting plate of pancakes, eggs, and bacon, heaving a sigh. Jesus, if and when you find him, is an entitled teen. Muriel, friend and precious, is missing. Things are...well, itâs hard to feel happy or optimistic right now. Your companions arenât faring much better as far as you can tell. Crowley is staring at his phone with a frown, the sound effects of Candy Crush drifting across the otherwise silent table. Heâs playing at non-chalance, but you know Distraction As A Coping Mechanism when you see it. Aziraphale has barely touched his food, focusing more on alternating between stirring his tea, and sipping it only to add more sugar. The drink must be nearly syrup by now. Anathema keeps dangling her pendulum, pausing, then setting it down to re-cast her rune stones. Youâve noticed that they keep landing up the same way. Well, you need fuel in your system if youâre going to deal with all of this, so you reluctantly cut a slice of pancake with your fork and bring it to your mouth.
The silence stretches. Well, except for the ambiance; Candy Crush, spoon stir, runes cast, pancake slice. Candy Crush, spoon stir, runes cast, pancake slice. Candy Crush, spoon stir, runes cast, bacon â mixing it up a little. Candy Crush, spoon stir, runes cast
BAM!!!!
The door of the suite slams open, and there stands Sardis with his foot in the air.
He kicked the door down. What...onâŠ.earthâŠ
âI FOUND HIM!â Sardis stomps into the suite toward the table, waving his phone in the air, âI FOUND HIM! I knew Iâd seen his face somewhere, and I found him!!â
Crowley sits up straight for once in his life. âWho THE FUCK gave him a key?!â
You avert your gaze. The fishbowl was delicious, and he patted your head afterward and told you everything would be okay! Not your faultâŠ.entirely.
There isnât much time for you to contemplate your guilt because Sardis has turned up the volume on his phone, and pressed play on a Tik Tok video. He turns his phone so that you all can see the screen. A boy with dirty-blonde hair is smiling out of it. His hair is longer in the middle and pouffed up with what is probably a standard-teenagerâs worth of hair gel, and the sides are very short with...dollar signs shaved into them. Itâs just a Tik Tok video, but you can smell the Axe body spray from here.
âHey guys!â The smiling teen calls, waving at the camera. âItâs me, ya boy Jeremy. Iâm bringing back my most popular series. Thatâs right! You asked, and Iâm answering your prayers! Time to bring back Letâs See What I Can Get Away With Because Iâm RICH.â
Your face twists in disgust, and you hear Anathema groan.
âI think weâve seen quite enough,â Aziraphale says, speaking for you all.
âAre...are you sure thatâs Jesus?â You ask. Honestly youâre hoping itâs a joke. Youâre hoping beyond hope that this...this...caricature of a person is not the same person who you need to convince to help you save the world.
âOh yeah,â Sardis replies, âThatâs him. Right name and everything.â
âWot? Jeremy?â asks Crowley with an edge of salty sarcasm.
âNo,â Sardis says, âHis true name. I know everyoneâs, remember? Itâs the right kid, you have my word on that.â
Truth be told, youâre still not exactly sure what his word is worth, but for now itâs a lead. You glance at Anathema, who shrugs.
âFits the bill,â she admits, âAll my readings have been...unsettlingly clear about the kind of kid weâre looking for, and I mean...â She gestures helplessly at the phone and the video that Sardis has, thankfully, paused. You blink, dumbstruck. Aziraphale said something last night about Heaven cutting corners. Apparently they had cut the corners so thoroughly theyâd made a circle.
Great.
******************
Breakfast suddenly became easier after that. Maybe it was because Sardis was the only one who wasnât completely despairing over everything, and maybe it was because he was suddenly helping himself to the plates of excess pancakes, bacon, and eggs. Suddenly, you noticed Aziraphale wave a finger and the food was hot again â trying to impress company, or be a good host, or both no doubt. You found that your appetite had suddenly returned, along with your need for caffeine. Even Crowley had grabbed some bacon now that, perhaps, there seemed a less likely chance of him having the choice if he waited any longer. Sardis did most of the talking, explaining that the shortest driving route would take 28 hours. Best to get started asap then.
âI am not listening to anymore of yourâŠ.Us songs!â Crowley growls at you as soon as you get in the car.
âNot all of them are love songs!â You protest.
âNo! No breakup songs either!â
âFine, fair, but what about -â
âAnd especially no End-of-the-World songs!â He snarls. Youâre pretty sure heâs halfway to hissing at you now. âWe have enough of that to deal with assss is!â Ah, there it is.
Ever-so-gently, Aziraphale takes the phone out of your hand.
âPerhaps itâs about time someone else had a turn,â he says. Ah, so heâs finally gotten tired of humouring you and your taste in music. Well, it had to happen eventually.
Unfortunately, this means that you all end up listening to Brandenburg Concerto No 3 in G Major. Well, it could be worse, you figure. At least this song has movement to it, even if it does feel endless based on your musical standards. Crowley is driving and silent, Aziraphale is waving your phone around in the passengerâs seat like a conductorâs baton. The backseat is as follows â You, Sardis, and Anathema.
Yes, Sardis is there. Considering the way he found Jesus â or, Jeremy â so quickly, and the way he seems to be single-handedly keeping everyoneâs morale afloat, it seemed a waste to leave him behind. Besides, both Crowley and Aziraphale had tried to make him leave, but he justâŠ.stayed. In the end, you pouted, they gave up, and now heâs sitting in the middle of the backseat, because you and Anathema have seniority.
Speaking of Anathema, you notice her very pointedly staring out the window. She looks...stiff. Maybe classical music isnât her thing? Your suspicions are confirmed approximately nine minutes later when she practically jumps up from her seat and grabs the phone out of Aziraphaleâs hand and presses stop. The music comes to a halt and silence fills the SUV. Aziraphale looks shocked and appalled.
âAnathema!â The angel exclaims after a moment. You can practically hear him clutching at his non-existent pearls. You can see him resisting the urge to clutch at his bowtie. âWe werenât even finished the Allegro!â
Anathema takes a deep breath. Youâre able to count out a solid beat of ten before she speaks.
âI...am not...listening to classical concertos for 28 hours. I donât care what key itâs in or how many allegros itâs got!â
Crowley snickers and snorts. âConcertos donât work like that.ïżœïżœïżœ He says. You see Aziraphale gently pat the demonâs knee as if to say âthatâs my man.â
âWell what would you rather?â Is what Aziraphale actually says, âMore bebop?â
âTry me, and Iâll play death metal, I swear I will.â
âUm,â Sardis ventures cautiously, âCan I see that for a minute-- thank you.â He plucks the phone out of Anathemaâs hand. After a minute or two of swiping, he taps the screen, and the car fills with songs from well-known musicals. Now, although this isnât exactly to everyoneâs taste, no one can find a good reason to outright hate it. No one can manage to find a good reason not to put up with it, and so by the time Music of the Night has melted into Seasons of Love, everyone has settled down and accepted that things arenât actually all that bad.
âImpressive,â You mutter, basking in the semi-content vibe. Everyone is still a little on edge, but it feels less intense now.
Sardis smirks. âSix siblings,â he says to you with a small nudge.
âWhat happened to the others?â Anathema asks, tuning in to the conversation.
âWell,â Sardis sighs, âOf the seven of us - myself, Smyrna, Pergamum, Ephesus, Philadelphia, Thyatira, and Laodicea - Smyrna and Philly were the only ones who didnât get hate mail. Smyrna was always super into the doctrine. She drank the kool-aid, as the humans here would say, and felt it her calling to âreturn home,â as she put it. Bullshit, honestly. We werenât born angels, we were made alongside the churches of Christ. âS one of the reasons why they donât actually give a shit about us.â
âAnd why you worried that your miracles might get taken away,â You add, putting some of the pieces together. Sardis nods. âWait, a minute,â You say, âYou were made??â
Sardis laughs. âAlright Little Moth, you need to pick a lane here. Do you want to hear about my siblings or how I was born human?â
âYou were BORN HUMAN?!â You are practically bouncing right now. What...how⊠âBut you said that you canât change your species!â
âI said your Miracle Enabler canât change your species,â He replies with a twinkle in his eyes, âNot that it canât be done. The seven of us were all born human. We made the first seven churches, so we were made guardians, lower angels. Like...lower than whatever the lowest type of angel you know of is. But we werenât created as angels like your friends in the front seat.â Movement catches your peripheral vision, and you notice Crowley shifting a little in his seat. No doubt thatâs a touchy subject that only Aziraphale is allowed to go anywhere near, but he says nothing. âSo they all pretend we donât exist, and look down on us whenever they need to deal with us. Sort of like weâre --â
âOh, donât worry,â You interject, âI read enough fantasy to understand the way magical societies view human-born magic users.â You can imagine that being An Angel of God would probably get old real fast if everyone who was supposed to welcome you actually hated you and made sure you knew it. Goodness knows it got to Aziraphale eventually, makes sense that a human-born angel (a huboan? Youâll work on it) would get sick of it a lot sooner.
âAnd thatâs why I like you Little Moth,â Sardis says with a chuckle and a wink. âAnyway, so I know Smyrna went to Heaven. Philly stayed here. The two of us have always been really close, she stuck with me and we messaged and called and visited all the time until recently. I got some messages from her when the world went nuts during the first apocalypse, but I havenât heard from her since. She stopped replying to my messages.â
Now itâs your turn to shift uncomfortably in your seat. Your eyes drop to your feet and start to fill with tears, so you change your view to the one outside your window.
âI can relate,â You say after a moment, holding back a sniffle and a sob. Deep breath. âWell, Iâm glad youâre sticking with us.â You plaster a smile on your face and turn back to him. âMaybe we can find her.â
He smiles. âThatâs what Iâm hoping.â For a while, everyone is silent. After a few minutes, Anathema offers to put together a playlist with everyoneâs favourite songs. The mood shifts considerably as the five of you spend the next few hours excitedly making musical suggestions.
Itâs the best collection of music youâve ever heard.
â€ïž â€ïž â€ïž â€ïž đ€
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#good omens#crowley#aziraphale#ineffable husbands#aziracrow#good omens 2#aziracrow lasts forever#aziraphale x crowley#good omens fanart#good omens fandom#ineffable fandom#anathema#anathema device#sardis#the angel of sardis#good omens 3#good omens season 3#good omens fanfiction#anthony j crowley#good omens fanfic#good omens fic#good omens fanfic rec#shameless plug#fanatic intervention#part 17#jesus#jeremy#it was the most rich-kid sounding name I could think of without googling and ending up with endless baby-having ads#algorithms#amirite
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Ted is not a monster, no matter what the police think, Karen's injuries are her own fault. She should not have pushed him, he's so tired of her nagging, of Holly's crying, of Mike not listening.
Nancy is a lost cause, has been since she began dating that Byers Boy.
The Byers always were Bad eggs. It didn't surprise Ted when Joyce lost her youngest. It was a little surprising when he showed up alive, Ted had figured that someone had killed the boy.
Ted wished Nancy had stuck to the Harrington boy, he was a good sort, and even if he was like his father, at least the money he came from would make up for it.
Ted was angry that Hopper had arrested him, was angry that when he discovered when Steve Harrington of all people had Holly, not the Ted wanted her, she was too needy and had been mistake, an accident but Karen wouldn't consider an abortion.
Ted sat on the cot in his cell, he was alone, Hopper having to step out for a moment.
And then the lights flickered.
Ted scowled, "That's not funny."
The lights did not stop flickering, flickering faster and faster until every light bulb burst in a shower of sparks.
Ted flinched at the sudden darkness.
"Hello?" He called, standing.
There was a long momrnt of silence before Ted feltt something right next to him, he could feel it's breath at his ear.
"Hello Ted." Harrington's voice said.
Ted breathed a sigh of relief.
"Steve, Son, you scared me." Ted said as he turned to look at Steve and froze at the sight of a Monster.
"I'm not your son, Ted." The monster with Steve's voice said "and you should be scared. You hurt Karen. I like Karen. She was nice to me, even after Nancy left me."
"She asked for it." Ted defended himself.
The monster bared it's teeth, too many, too wide and Ted had the distinct feeling he'd said the wrong thing.
"My father said the same, the creature that are my Spawn said the Same thing. Nothing asks to be hurt." The monster saud.
"Please, don't hurt me." Ted begged, falling to the his knees.
"I'm not going to hurt you, Ted." The monster said.
Ted let out a sigh of relief.
"Thank you." Ted started.
"I'm going to kill you, until the rivers of the Down Below run pure. You don't get the luxury of a quick death. Not after what you've done to my family."
The monster lunged and Ted did not have time to scream before the grey walls of the Station cell disappeared
When he became aware again Ted felt cold and something grey white was falling from the Sky.
Something screeched and Ted flinched.
Something dove at him and bit into his body, tearing him up until darkness came.
Ted woke up, something snarled and lunged, digging teeth into his arm, dragging him along until something cracked in his head and darkness came.
Ted, woke up to teeth in his throat, darkness came.
Ted woke up. Something nibbling at his toes before slowly moving up his leg and leg body until he was fully engulfed slowly his body began to to boil until finally, thankfully, darkness came.
Ted Woke up, Steve sat beside him on a Rock, a dark, poluted river flowed next to the vines that surrounded them.
"Please, Please make it stop." Ted begged.
Steve looked at him, eyes dark, empty.
"No." The monster said.
Something swooped, threw Ted up and swallawed him whole.
Darkness came...
Ted woke up...
Ted woke up...
Over and over until the Rivers of blood ran dry until the air purified.
But that took a very long time.
-
So um it's been quite a while since I worked on this, but here you go.
@addelyin @merricatty @lesbiabrobin @apuckishwit @0o-mushroom-o0 @starlight-archer @darkwitchoferie @just-a-tiny-void @swimmingbirdrunningrock @intergalactic-president-awesome @vampireinthesun @goodolefashionedloverboi @adhdsummer @purpleanimeoverart @space-invading-pigeon @lilaclilyroses @nohomoyesbi @plantzzsandpencilzzs @korixae @subversivecynic @flusteredcas @persnicketysquares @freddykicksasses @little-trash-ghost @cupcakesnwhiskey @cats-ate-all-of-my-pasta @planetsoda @paintsplatteredandimperfect @irregular-child
@daydreamsandcrashingwaves
@lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @steddieassheg0es
#eldritch monster steve#from the rot#part 17#revenge#warning ted wheeler#technically steddie#technically torture
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malevolent spoilers under the cut
UGH, Part 17??? FUcking kill me, Poor Faroe, good fuck. Poor Arthur? I guess, even if it technically was his fault. Good fuck, first his wife, then his daughter UGH.
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tiny people :3 (part 17)
#part 17#spy x family#sxf#sxf manga#sxf tiny people#tiny people#anya forger#loid forger#yor forger#the handler#yuri briar#franky#sxf anya#sxf loid#sxf yor#sxf handler#sxf yuri#sxf franky
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I'M BACK!
This chapter took forever to figure out. Turns out the pacing was off, and what I figured would be 1 chapter is actually going to be closer to 2 or 3 chapters. Which is frustrating cuz it really feels like the fic just keeps adding chapters to itself at least as quickly as I can write them.
ANYWAY. Time for More Feelings! And Qweck being Absolutely Done with her customer service job.
Previous chapter (part 16) here
CW: Suicidal behavior and ideation; references to burning to death; burns; body horror
Nobody Is Always Right
"Yeah, so, would it be possible to get the Laria's Latte with no milk? And no caffeine?"
You take one of the ceramic cups on the counter and hand it to him. "Yes. Here."
"Oh...do I go fill it somewhere?"
"You wanted a latte with no milk or caffeine, right?"
"Yeah."
"There you go. NEXT!"
"Wait - I never actually ordered - "
"Sir, you have been served. If you want something else, please go to the back of the line."
"Whatever happened to 'the customer is always right?'"
"It was a lie. Nobody is always right, and you're old enough to learn that."
Usually this is where Mori, the brown-eyed girl from Corentyn who came in with a crop a few days after you arrived, would slide in between you and the countertop with a fabricated excuse for you to go back to the store-room while she smoothed things over with the customer. You would pretend to be torn about leaving someone so newly freed to handle the customers alone before acquiescing. By the time you returned, youâd have calmed down, and the problem customer would be gone.
Usually.
Today, though, Mori is desperately avoiding your gaze. All of your coworkers are desperately avoiding your gaze. They barely speak, and when they do it is only what is purely necessary. No niceties, no small talk, no jokesâjust the bare necessities. And itâs not even your fault.
He took her in, raised her on his own, and she has nothing but contempt for himïżœïżœïżœand so she started pouring poison in your ear and you just believed her?!
The trap door to the dormitories above the shop was still open when Giliys arrived last night, and he was loud. Everyone in the building heard what he had to say.
But of course you didâsheâs a pretty face, isn't she? She's someone new and exciting and we both know youâ
So now, instead of bailing you out, Mori is very deliberately looking through the beans and blends under the counter, even though you donât need any, while you are having the worst self-control day youâve had since you were an initiate at the cloister in Ostenso.
You donât know what exactly has caused their alienationâare they embarrassed at having heard that? Are they upset because they believe what he said about you and Laria? Are they jealous that you have a âfatherâ you donât supposedly donât appreciate? You donât know. Nobody will tell you.
âWhere is your manager? I want to talk to her!â
âYouâre talking to her.â
âWhat about Laria?â
âSheâs out sick today.â
Laria came downstairs before sunrise to open the shop, only to find ash covered streets swarming with guards. She went back to her room after that, leaving you in charge to âkeep the customers from walking all overâ the newly freed employees. The others think Laria is just really upset about all the people who are missing or dead. You know better. You donât know the nature of her relationship with Giliys, but she seemed surprisingly fond of him. You wonder if she still is, now that youâre sure she knows what he is.
âWell, then,â the customerâa dark haired youth, almost certainly a studentâtakes a moment to recover his equilibrium. âIâll be back when sheâs better to lodge a formal complaint! You have no idea how much trouble youâre in, Miss, Iââ
âPRINCESS!â
The entire cafe seems to turn to look at the harried halfling running through the door.Â
âWhat are you doing here?â you hiss.
âLook, it doesnât matter. I have to talk to you now. Itâs an emergency.â
You feel your face cool. âWhat happened? Whereâs Theo?â
âWhat? No, Thayâs fineâit has to do withâyâknowâremember at Rivad? The part I donât remember?â
âExcuse me! I am still here!â the customer exclaims. You throw a wet dish towel in his face before turning to Mori.
âYou take care of the customers, I have to deal with this.â
âYouâre just leaving?!â Mori asksâthe first thing sheâs said to you today.
"How dare you!" The customer shrieks, his voice cracking. You ignore him.
âYes. Is that a problem?â You donât mean to glare at her, but you must have given how she seems to shrink into herself.
âN-no. Sorry,â she mumbles, and you know youâre going to catch hell for this later from Laria, but you donât care.
You walk out from behind the counter, grab Giliys by the arm, and drag him into one of the backrooms of the coffeehouse, ignoring the brat's entitled spluttering. You do not slam the door behind you. You push it closed with exactly the appropriate amount of force for the situation.Â
âThe fire in the Villegre. That was you,â you say, skipping pleasantries. âIt happened again.â
He squeezes his eyes shut and nods. âYeah.â
That fucking bastard. You pick up the first thing you can grabâan appleâand hurl it at the wall with a roar. âI should have killed you at Rivad,â you snarl.
âYes,â he agrees. âYou can kill me now, instead.â
âDonât tempt me,â you snap.
âIâm not tempting. Iâm asking.â
Your body feels like ice. âWhat?â
He closes his eyes with a deep breath, and you are suddenly struck by how exhausted he looks. âI canât stop her. Next time she comes out, I wonât come back. So we canât give her the chance.â He flicks his wrist, and an ornamental dagger slides out of his sleeve into his hand. He holds it out to you, pommel first, tip angled towards him. âSheâs weak from what she did this morning. If youâre quick, she wonât stop you. When itâs done, get rid of the bodyâmake sure nobody will ever find it again. Sheâs trapped in a gem in my chest. Nobody can be allowed to find it again. Sheâs too strong now. My fault for feeding her.â
Thisâheâwhat?
âWhat about Theo?â you ask, suddenly remembering why you are so glad you didnât kill Giliys at Rivad. âYouâre going to leave me to deal with him alone?â
His exhaustion shifts to regret. âIâm sorry. If I had a choiceââ
âYou did have a choice!â you snap. âYou had a choice when you decided to let a monster live in a gem in your chest!â
âI know.â He takes a deep breath. âPlease, Qweck. I donât know Iâll be able to do it by myself.â
He never calls you Qweck. He also never begs.
Another thought strikes you. âWhat does Theo think of this?â
His jaw sets. âJust take the fucking dagger, Qweck.â
âDoes he even know?â
âPleaseââ
âIt would kill him to lose you, you know that, right?â
âHe hates me!â Giliys exclaims. âHe just forgot. I confused himâheâs not himself. Itâll be better once Iâm gone.â
âHe could never hate you! I donât know why you keep saying he does, but he doesnât, so if you actually care for him, youâll find another way toââ
âI fed her some of my crops.â
For a moment you wonder with confusion when Giliys was ever a farmer, and why plants would satisfy a creature that fed on souls. You know what the word âcropsâ means to a Bellflower tiller, but no tiller would ever think of doing what Giliys just said he had done.
And yet, as you stare at him in dawning horror that youâre sure is visible on your face, he holds your gaze with something like defiance. âI had to feed her souls to keep her from taking over. So every so oftenâwhen she got hungryâI would pick out someone from my crops. Someone alone, who had no one waiting for them. Someone that no one would miss. Iâd say I had a place in the city and invite them to stay with me while they got their feet under them. They always said yes. Always so happy to finally have a friend. Iâd take them down a back alley andâŠ.â He stops, still looking you in the eye. âTheyâd always try to scream. It was always too late by then, but theyâd try. Hellfire burns fast. It never took long. Just long enough for them to realize. And then theyâd be gone. No soul, no body, just a pile of ashes that Iâd spread out to be less obvious. And then Iâd go back to Cheliax, to Brastlewark, and Thay would see there was something wrong, realize Iâd âlostâ one, and heâd fuss over how my clothes were wet and muddy, and heâd give me some of his to wear while my clothes dried out, and Iâd pretend not to notice they were much too big for him and nothing like what his normal clothes, and heâd give me cocoa and tell me stories about the kids at his library until dawn, and by the time I left, Iâd feel ok. Every time I felt her hunger and felt like this time I couldnât do it, Iâd remember that heâd be there when I was done. And it would be enough.â
Youâre shaking now, and you donât know if itâs rage or shock or cold or all of it. âDoes he know?â you ask, voice low with anger.
He nods. Oh, gods, he nods. âHe told me heâd kill me if he ever saw me again. And then you called me to get him out of Rivad.â
Theo knows. He used Theo to carry him through damning innocents, and he let him find out.Â
Youâve known Giliys for decades, worked with him, even vouched for him on occasion. Youâve known from the beginning that he was a murderer, that he subsisted off of a combination of paid assassinations and corpse robbing, but you let it go because he was dedicated to the causeâor so you thought. You shouldn't have. You should have realizedâhow did you not realizeâ
But what youâre feeling right now canât possibly compare to what your father felt when he realized. To care so deeply for another for years, only to discover that he was a monster who used your affection to motivate his atrocitiesâit would be heartbreaking. The confusion and uncertaintyâwondering if you had ever known him at all, if he had ever returned your affections or cared about you beyond your ability to comfort him when his conscience woke. Asking yourself how he fooled you for so longâhow you could have possibly loved thatâ
It was a betrayal that would destroy anyone. How had it not destroyed your father?
Maybe it did, and you just never noticed.Â
Thereâs no thought in your movement. You have barely realized youâve taken the dagger from him before you have him pressed against the wall, golden blade bared against his throat.
âYou son of a bitch,â you growl through grit teeth. You feel his body relax, and that only adds fire to your rageâdoes he think you wonât hurt him? Does he think your healerâs oaths will keep him safe? That your self-control and discipline will hold you back from giving him what he deserves?
No. He knows they wonât.
This is why he told you. He told you so it would be easy to kill him. So that even if it would break your oaths, youâd kill him in a fit of rage. And it almost worked.
What is wrong with you??
You are a child of Irori on the path to perfection. You should be above this. You should be above snapping at customers. You should be above lashing out at Corvinius. You should be above abandoning your father to the monster who used him.
The bastard must see the rage clearing from your eyes, because his face hardens. âDo it,â he hisses. âJust fucking do it! I deserve itâyou know I doâjustââ
You need to think. You need everything to stop so you can think and figure out what to doâif killing him is right or if you just feel like it is because youâre angry orâ
Pain.
You hiss in pain as you recoil, practically jumping backwards, away from Giliys. You look down at your left armâthe one that had been barred against his chest to hold him in placeâand find an ugly burn on the side of your forearm. You hear a strangled cry, and when you look up at Giliys, face twisted in pain as he gasps for breath and claws at his chest.
His chest which is now glowing through his smoldering shirt.
All else forgotten, you move to help him. âWhatââ
âNoâget back! Get back!â he croaks, left hand shooting towards you to push you back if you come too close, right hand continuing to claw at his chest, heedless of the flames and growing burns.
âYouâreââ
âWhat is goingââ Your words die as he raises his eyes to meet yoursâgreen eyes ringed with hellfire. You know the answer before he says it.
âGet everyone out. Out. Out now!â he pants.
âWeâre too late. Sheâs back.â
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Taglist: @photogirl894 , @kanerallels , @bigfrozensix , @lucy-shining-star , and anyone else who's a fan of this series.
#disney tangled#tangled the series#rapunzel's tangled adventure#tts season 3#rta season 3#who's afraid of the big bad wolf#islands apart#tangled polls#tts/rta round 1#part 17
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Break Me Down - Part 17
Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader
Summary: Youâre a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk â leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcherâs team.
Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of themâŠ
đ Break Me Down Masterlist
AN:Â *Gives you a box of virtual tissues.* Just in case. đ
Word Count: 6,000 Tags/Warnings: Macho angst ahead, hurt/comfort, major, major fluffâŠ
Part 17: More Than Words Can Say
Mount Sinai Hospital was one of the largest private hospitals in the city.Â
Fortunately, it was also the closest to Vought Tower, or what once had been the focal point of the superhero industry. It had been reduced to mere rubble and whatever dilapidated parts still stood.Â
All the news outlets were covering the towerâs collapse, and speculating on what couldâve created the blast that made the entire city trembleânot unlike last yearâs incident, when Soldier Boy killed the most powerful supe in the world.
In the hospital, M.M. walked through the Emergency Department until he found Yvette and her son, Devon. They sat beside each other on a single cot, now joined by Yvetteâs husband Chris while she signed her discharge papers. Sheâd gotten off with a minor concussion and a bandage over her temple.Â
âJust checking in on you guys,â M.M. said. Yvette smiled, but she asked about you.Â
âSheâs in surgery,â he told her.Â
Yvette nodded, though tears welled up in her eyes. Chris rubbed her back and held his sonâs shoulder.Â
âPlease call me with any news on her,â Yvette asked.Â
âYou got it,â M.M. said.
âAnd please,â she said, holding her son. âThank Soldier Boy for us.â
M.M. paused at that.Â
Seeing the family was well in hand, he returned to the trauma wing. There in the waiting room sat the whole team, minus Butcher, whoâd been admitted to the hospital as well after the ED doctors didnât like what theyâd found on his lab reports. (But M.M. would look into that later. Hughie was with him now anyway.)
That left Frenchie, Kimiko, and Annie to wait for any news on you. Even Grace had arrived an hour ago.Â
But M.M.âs attention was drawn to the dusty motherfucker standing near the hallway.Â
Soldier Boy leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. The collar of his supe suit was undone to give his neck and chest some breathing room. Heâd removed his gloves, and an empty gallon jug of water lied at his feet.Â
He was covered in a fine layer of soot and grime, though heâd since washed his hands and face to the best of his ability. He was also flanked by his two hired men, Frank Cardoza and Lorenzo Rivales.Â
Grace had run a quick background check on both, and as M.M. had learned, they were ex-Marines Soldier Boy had picked up in Colombia, while he was busy infiltrating a drug cartel.  Â
Fucking figures, M.M. thought, shaking his head as he watched the man. Grace stood and joined him.
âHeâs not just gonna fuck off back to South America,â he told her. âYou realize that right?â
She considered that with a tilt of her head. âLetâs just see what happens here.â
As if right on cue, your surgeon made his way down the hall and over to the waiting group. Ben pushed off the wall and went to meet him, as did Grace, Annie, and M.M.Â
Annie and Ben eyed each other with mistrust and annoyance, respectively, but then he ignored her to regard the surgeon with a terse, expectant gaze. Â
The doctor was a graying man in his fifties. He seemed to internally brace himself before he spoke, glancing at Ben first before the others.Â
âWeâve repaired the damaged muscle around her right leg. The femur is broken. We also addressed the wound near her shoulder,â he said. âHowever, the rebar did nick her heart. Sheâll need additional surgery to repair it.â
Ben sensed a but coming. He crossed his arms. âOkay, whatâs the problem?â
The doctor gave a nod and a short sigh.Â
âSheâs lost a lot of blood,â he explained. âWeâve given her a transfusion, of course, but sheâs in a delicate state right now.â
âSo whyâre you wasting time? Do your fucking job,â Ben snapped. Grace shot him a glance, but addressed the doctor herself.
âWhat are her odds, doctor?â she asked. Ben eyed her with a glare. She ignored him for the time being.Â
âShe needs this now. But, there is a chance she wonât make it out of surgery at this stage,â the surgeon replied. âThe OR will be available in thirty minutesâŠso this would be the time to be with her, just in case sheâs unable to get through this.â
âExcuse me?â Ben said.Â
His tone was dark and deep with grit, and the doctor stepped back. No one dared attempt to hold Ben back, but Grace quickly thanked the doctor and urged him to move forward with prepping you for surgery.Â
Loco shared a saddened look with Frank, who watched their boss with a deepening frown.Â
Annie turned to Ben with a measure of sympathy, hidden underneath her irritation at his attitude and her worry for you. You were still her friend, and she felt guilty for how cold sheâd been treating you lately. And she could see, at the very least, that this man cared about you.Â
âLook, can you just calm down a bit? Weâre all here hoping she pulls through,â Annie said.Â
M.M. stood behind her, silent, supportive. But Ben just ignored her, and everyone else for that matter.Â
He stalked down the hallway. And when he turned a corner, out of eyeshot, he growled and punched a hole deep into the closest wall.
Hughie perked up when Butcher finally started to rouse in his hospital bed. They had him on a hefty dose of morphine.Â
He blinked his weary eyes, his head rolling over on the pillow. His lips quirked when he noticed Hughie, who was glaring at him.Â
âWatching me sleep now?â Butcher remarked. âPretty fuckinâ creepy, Hugh.â
âYouâre such an asshole,â Hughie said.Â
That was something Butcher couldnât refute. He nodded. âI see they told you.â
âWhen were you gonna say something?â Hughie said. âWhen you fucking dropped dead?â
âProbably not even then,â Butcher teased. But when he took in the younger manâs face, all he saw was his little brother, Lenny. Butcher sighed.Â
âAinât nothing any of us can do about it.â
âFucking cancer?â Hughie said incredulously. âYou couldâve gotten treatment.â
âWouldâve bought me a few more months, maybe,â Butcher admitted. That fell between them for a moment with stony silence.Â
âItâs all right,â he added. âIâve had my fucking time. Got to see the life drain from that golden cuntâs eyesâŠgot to let my girl rest easy.â
Hughie didnât buy that. Or maybe, he just didnât want to. His eyes burned, both with emotion and determination. He stood from his seat and set out to find Grace. If there was anything that could help Butcher, she would know.Â
While the others went down to the cafeteria for a bite to eat, Frank sat in the waiting room with Loco beside him and Dr. Bakerâs briefcase on his lap.
He was sorting through its contents while Loco sat with crossed arms and slumping shoulders. He looked over at Frankâs stoic profile with a frown.
He was older, but not by much. Theyâd gone through one fresh hell after another together, and somehow, Frank always managed to pull their asses out of the wringer. It seemed Frank was trying to do the same for their boss.Â
It was funny, actually. Soldier Boy wasnât their first contractor. You were their first kidnapping though. Neither he or Frank had felt good about it when Antonio brought you back to the mansion in Medellin, but theyâd agreed to do a job. Guarding you became part of that job.Â
And yet, you had somehow reminded both Frank and Loco that they used to be respectable members of society. They used to have families, friends. They had once been soldiers. Good men. Maybe that was why theyâd grown fond of you over the past few months.Â
And FrankâŠwell, Loco knew the man had his reasons for wanting to be done with this work. Loco couldnât blame him; he was feeling tired himself.Â
âFound anything good?â Loco asked in Spanish. Frankâs dark brows had drawn together in new interest.
âMore than good,â he said. He looked up, but didnât find Soldier Boy in the waiting room. âWhere the hell did he go?â
Loco pointed to the reception desk. âTry asking someone.â
With a sharp sigh, Frank gave Loco the briefcase. âGuard that with your fucking life. Donât let anyone from the CIA take it from you.â
Loco gave him a look of offense. âItâs like you donât know me at all, bro. Fucking hurts.âÂ
Rolling his eyes, Frank got up and went over to the reception desk.Â
âExcuse me,â he said. There seemed to be no one at the reception desk. Granted, it was late at night, and they technically werenât supposed to be there. Grace Mallory had worked out an agreement with the hospital to allow them all to stay overnight.Â
He didnât have to wait too long though, as an on-duty nurse came over with a clipboard in hand. Her red hair caught his eye, along with her pretty smile.Â
âHi there. Can I help you?â she asked.Â
Frank faltered, just for a moment. But he cleared his throat and met her eyes.Â
âDid you happen to see which way Soldier Boy went?â he asked.
She gave him a wan smile and pointed down the hall, to the left. âThat âa way. Think he had an argument with the wall over there.â
Frank followed her gaze and caught sight of the hole in the wall. He frowned.Â
âSorry about that,â he said.Â
The nurse gave him a sideways look. âNo worries, hun. Itâs not your fisticuff outline in the wall, now is it?â
Once again, Frank didnât know quite what to say to her slightly teasing smile. But he returned it, more reserved, but genuine.Â
âThank you,â he said, with a nod. Then he remembered then what he needed to do.Â
And he took off brusquely down the hall.Â
It took him a few minutes to pull his head together, but Ben eventually worked up his nerve to go and see you.Â
You were still drugged out asleep, of course. He stood outside the large window of your private room in the Intensive Care Unit. He wouldnât go in though. Part of him refused to believe it had gotten to this.Â
And the reality, that this was his fault. Heâd caused the blast that destroyed the tower. His fault he hadnât gotten to you sooner.
âYou are the reason I needed saving,â youâd told him once.Â
You were right then, and it still held up now.Â
So, noâŠhe wouldnât go in there, into your room. The truth was, he couldnât.Â
But Benâs awareness prickled before he noticed, Frank had joined him. Ben tolerated it. While he wanted to be alone, maybe part of him (one he wouldnât acknowledge) craved some kind of company.Â
âYouâll get paid, donât you fucking worry,â he said dryly.Â
âThatâs not the only reason Iâm here,â Frank said.Â
It felt like a confession. Ben didnât reply though; he was focused on your pale face, covered by the breathing mask. Shallow puffs of air fogged the inside of it while your heart monitor clipped on.
âThereâs another solution here,â Frank said.Â
Ben gave him a cursory side glance. âShe wouldnât take Compound V. Not even to save her fucking life.â
âThat didnât stop you before,â Frank mentioned.Â
Ben didnât answer, but heâd been internally debating it ever since heâd spoken with the surgeon.Â
âAll right, get it over here,â he said. âThe temporary stuff.âÂ
Frank rose a brow. Heâd been curious enough to try testing the man. But now, he frowned.
âShe wonât forgive you,â he pointed out.Â
âWhatâre you, devilâs fucking advocate? Sheâll get the fuck over it,â Ben snapped.Â
But after his initial anger subsidedâŠhe knew his subordinate was right.Â
âSheâll be alive to hate me,â he said, more honestly. Â
Frank inclined his head. âThere could be another way.âÂ
Ben glanced over at him.Â
âShe lost a lot of blood,â Frank said. Ben frowned. Â
âTheyâve given her fucking blood transfusionsââÂ
âYeah, normal blood. A supeâs blood is stronger. Yours could probably heal her,â Frank said. âBut, the only one who can break your skin is you.â
Ben eyed him in suspicion. âWho told you that?âÂ
âRead it somewhere,â Frank said evasively.Â
Ben huffed in response, but as that realization truly sunk into his mind, his lips pressed together in new determination. He left Frank to start a brusque pace down the hall.Â
He ignored the red-headed nurse calling at him at the reception desk when he shoved through a locked security door, into the OR unit. He searched until he found your surgeon and pulled him from the sink he was washing his hands in.
The man gasped with fright, though he tried to hide it looking up at Ben. âWhat the hellâre you doing?â
âIâm making a donation,â said Ben. He raised a blunt nail to his wrist. âYou better hurry the fuck up, because Iâm about to open a vein.â
It was morning by the time another doctor returned to deliver an update on your progress: the âtreatmentâ was working. Your wounds had knitted closed within an hour following the blood transfusion, and you no longer needed surgery. They had also x-rayed your leg and found that the bone was whole once again. Even your broken ribs had healed.
Ben nodded at the news. He didnât respond, and just started walking down the hall. Grace, Annie, and M.M. stared after him with mixed reactions of confusion and curiosity.Â
âWhere are you going?â Annie asked. She was exhausted; all of them were.Â
The supe ignored her though. M.M. shared a look with her before he decided to follow the man.Â
Meanwhile, Ben once again stopped in the middle of the hallway when he was out of view. He took in a slow, steadying breath of relief, his fists clenching at his sides.
âCongratulations. After today, youâre gonna get your statue put back up,â M.M. said.
Ben turned around to stare back at the man, schooling his face into a stoic frown.Â
âYvette and her son are going to be fine, by the way,â M.M. added, as he crossed his arms.
Ben paused slightly at that, filing that information away with secret satisfaction.Â
To M.M., he merely raised a brow. âYou got something to say, or are you going to keep wasting my fucking time?â Â
âYou think saving one black kid makes you a hero?â M.M. asked, point blank. âTaking down Vought. Saving her. What does that all mean to you?â
Ben frowned in irritation. âWhy the fuck do you care?â
âJust answer the question. Be honest for once in your motherfuckinâ life,â M.M. said. âDo you really think youâre a hero?â
Silence fell between them.Â
Ben didnât know what it was about this guy. Maybe it was his persistence, or the fact that heâd pulled you out of the rubble and got you to a hospital in time to save your life.Â
But Ben actually considered the question.
Killing Stan Edgar and Black Noir. Saving you. Heâd done it all for selfish reasons. The kidâŠthat was something else. His face stuck in Benâs mind, how heâd trusted the superhero, like dumb kids were supposed to do.
But in that moment, carrying the tower on his back and knowing he was the only barrier between a mountain of hot rubble and this one kidâŠBen hadnât wanted to fail.Â
And still. You are the reason I needed savingâŠ
It wasnât really saving the fucking day if he started it, was it?
Benâs lips turned on a humorless smile. Still, he had saved the kid. And his mom. And you. For now, that was enough.
âLooks like I am,â said Ben.
But he met M.M.âs stare, briefly allowing him to glimpse beyond a wall of arrogance and pride.
And Ben walked away. M.M. watched him go in silent contemplation.
Grace intercepted Ben before he could visit you in the ICU.Â
Christ. What the fuck now? he thought sourly.Â
She gestured for a word, and with an annoyed look, he followed her down the hall.
âIâll get to the point,â she said. âButcher is sharing a floor with your girlfriend, down in Oncology.â
Ben raised a brow. That prick had cancer? Par for the fucking course, if he said so himself.Â
âSo?â he remarked.Â
Grace sighed. Sheâd expected that reaction. âTheyâve given him weeks, but the way heâs been pushing himself, more likely itâs days. Taking the untested Temp V long-term has had its adverse side effectsâŠif you were to make another blood donation, Iâll make it worth your while.âÂ
So now his blood was some fucking wonder drug? Hell no, Ben thought.Â
âYouâre asking me to save the guy whoâs double-crossed me, tried to hunt me down, tried to end me?â he said, with a dark, incredulous chuckle. âYou can fuck right off, sweetheart.â
She grated at the sweetheart remark, but Grace leveled him with steely blue eyes.
âIf it werenât for me, youâd be on ice right now,â she pointed out.Â
Benâs lips pursed. Heâd really like to snap this bitchâs fucking neck on principleâŠbut then he thought about it. He could work this into his favor.Â
âYou know what. Iâm having a good day, so maybe Iâm feeling fucking generous,â he said. His mouth edged into a smirk. âBut I think itâs time we renegotiated our contract. Donât you?â
Grace stared up at him, and she inhaled a deep breath.Â
âFine.â
You slowly woke up in a hospital room, in a paper gown with an IV drip and a heart monitor. Which made sense, as the events of yesterday came back to you in a rush.Â
But beyond feeling relieved to be alive, you also felt extremely well-rested. You didnât feel like a building fell on you.Â
What kind of masterful drugs are they giving me? You tried to read your chart on the wall, but you didnât see any pain medication on there.Â
Annie popped into your private recovery room. Her face brightened when she saw that you were awake.Â
âHey, hun! How do you feel?â she asked, lowering into a chair at your bedside. You wouldnât know that this chair had been occupied by various members of the team over the past few hours, including M.M., Frenchie, Frank, and even Grace.Â
âGreat, actually,â you replied. But now you frowned. âI shouldnât feel great.â
You remembered nearly being crushed under a pile of rubble. You remembered falling on a piece of rebar, and unable to move your crushed leg. You remembered the worry in Benâs eyesâŠÂ
And panic stung at yours.
âDid they give me Compound V?â your voice shook when you asked. Annie calmed you down with a shake of her head and a reassuring hand on your arm.Â
The door to your room opened once again. Benâs frame filled up the doorway. When his eyes met yours, your breath caught in your throat. He was still in his supe suit, and with his hands resting on his belt, he strutted inside the room.Â
M.M., Frenchie, Frank, Loco, and Kimiko came in behind him and at least looked showered. Ben looked like he hadnât even done that much, nor slept all night.
âIt wasnât the V,â he said at last. âJust a little blood donation. Seemed to work like a charm.â
His resulting grin had a bit of charm in it as well. Your head tilted in confusion.
"Whose blood?" you asked.
"Mine," he said. His expression faded, slightly more serious.
You found yourself slowly smiling, though your brows still furrowed in surprise. He gave me his bloodâŠinstead of Compound V.
While you tried to wrap your mind around the gravity of that, you reached for the pitcher of water on the rolling tray beside you. You grasped the pitcher, but the plastic actually crunched in your hand. You gasped and moved your hand over so the water inside wouldnât spill all over you.
Ben raised a brow.Â
The room fell silent as all eyes stared at you. When the water finished pouring out onto the floor, you gently set it back down on the tray.Â
âSeems you got some of his strength in the deal,â Annie remarked.Â
âGreat, thereâs two of them,â Hughie quipped with a grin.Â
âWell, thatâs probably just temporary,â M.M. sighed. âHopefully.âÂ
You couldnât help but laugh, and it brought a slight grin to Benâs lips.Â
After a bit of well wishing, everyone cleared out of your room to let you rest upâŠexcept for Ben, Frank, and Loco.Â
âWhat are you guys going to do now?â you asked of the latter two. Loco cracked his knuckles.Â
âGot another job lined up in private security,â he revealed. âIâve lost the taste for drug running. Nearly lost a damn toe on the last one.â
You laughed. âWell, thanks for doing one more job here.â
âAnything for el CapitĂĄn,â Loco said, giving Ben a respectful nod. âHe pays exceedingly well.â
You raised a brow at Ben, who shrugged with a cocky grin. Smiling, you turned to Frank, who was sitting in the chair beside your bed.Â
âAnd you?â you asked. Frank gave you a rare smile.Â
âGoing home,â he said. âTo my daughter.â
Your eyes began to sting, but you tried to blink away the beginnings of tears. You nodded and squeezed his arm.Â
âGive her a big hug for me. And thank you againâŠfor everything,â you said, even though you realized that thanking your former guard keep was strange. Still, there had been no part of your kidnapping that was normal in the least.Â
Frank hesitated, but he covered your hand with his.Â
Though he caught the way Benâs face tightened, and Frank let go of you. He stood with Loco, giving you and Ben a final nod. Then the two men left your room and disappeared down the hall.
Part of you felt melancholy, like chapters of your life were closing. But you also felt like new ones were waiting in the wings.
Your gaze turned to Ben, who stood near your bed.
He was looking over your chart to see if the doctors needed anything else before you were discharged. But your soft voice called to him, earning his attention. You beckoned him closer.
He went over and sat down on the edge of your bed, laying a hand on your thigh. You reached out for his arm.Â
âThank you,â you said.Â
Ben scoffed, though a hint of humor glinted in his eyes. âFor what? Saving your reckless ass for the millionth time?â
âFor saving Yvette and her son,â you replied with a smile. âAnd yeah, all that other stuff.âÂ
Your hand slid down his arm and slipped into his hand. Your fingers curled around his palm.Â
âReally. Thank youâŠâÂ
Tears welled up in your eyes again. You still couldnât fucking believe he opened up one of his own veins and gave you his blood. He gave a public hospital his blood in order to save you.Â
He couldâve easily slipped you V24 again, or worse, the permanent stuff. But he didnât just save you. Heâd respected your wishes.Â
What you wanted to say next got stuck in your throat.
Ben had something hiding behind his eyes, like he was reluctant to show you his real emotions. But when he focused on your face, his hand tightened on yours. His jaw clenched, but he didnât speak. He only let go of your hand to brush a falling tear from your cheek. His lips twitched at a smile.
âCome on now, baby doll. Youâre tougher than that.â
You choked on a laugh as more of your tears slipped down your warming cheeks. âNope. Iâm actually not.â
âHmm. Couldâve fooled me,â Ben said. You matched his grin with a beaming smile of your own. Â
Slowly, you pushed yourself up and took his dirty face in your hands. You guided him down to you, and you pressed your lips to his.Â
He allowed it with his usual demanding, fervent kiss. But then it slowed. He held your wrist to keep your hand in place on his cheek, and his thumb drew bath and forth over your skin.Â
You parted from him, pulling back enough to see his face. There was so much you wanted to sayâŠbut maybe right now, it was too much.Â
You met him with another tearful kiss.
Before you were officially discharged from the hospital, you had one more visitor.Â
Grace was once again there to debrief you. This time though, Ben sat at your side on the bed, a silent statue who regarded the woman coolly. He seemed to be tolerating her presence with more ease than usual, and you wondered why.
âYouâre going on medical leave,â she informed you. âFor three months, and then a psychiatrist will need to clear you for duty.â
Part of you wanted to argue, considering you were completely healed of your injuries. But you knew you needed a break from the S.A.âfrom all of this.Â
âYour mother and sister will be brought out of witness protection soon, after we determine that the threat is sufficiently neutralized,â she said. âYou can return home today as well.â
You could finally go back to your apartmentâŠthough the thought didnât call to you as much as it should have. You glanced over at Ben.
âIs this the part where you try to ship him back to Colombia?â you asked.Â
âThat was the agreement,â Grace said wryly. You frowned, trying to blink away the tears forming once again in your eyes.
You didnât want to lose him, but you also didnât want to give up your life here. You didnât want to leave the S.A., or your family, or your friends. Ben put you out of your misery, however.
âWe renegotiated,â he said.Â
Your eyes widened. âWhat?â
Grace explained, âIn exchange for his assistance in another case, he can stay in the U.S. on a trial basis. As long as he agrees to live within the law.â
You didnât entirely trust Grace. Ben would be watched at every moment. That was a given, but considering he still didnât have full control over his nuclear power, you were surprised Grace would allow him free roam within U.S. borders.Â
âAnd, provided, he agrees to a relocation. Preferably not in a densely populated area,â Grace added.
There it is, you frowned. You shared a look with him, and you could see he wasnât entirely on board with this. You had no doubt heâd agreed to her demands by lying through his teeth.Â
You turned back to Grace.
âWhat if he becomes a contractor for Supe Affairs,â you proposed. âThere may be some fallout after Voughtâs collapse, and more of their records to go through. Other labs to clear out. Ben would be a lot of help, if heâs willing.â
You glanced at Ben again. He met your eyes, then Graceâs, and he nodded marginally. He was getting bored of the heat in South America anyway.Â
Grace heaved a sigh. Benâs lips formed a smirk.Â
âOh, relax. I just ended Vought. Youâd be an idiot not to cash in on that PR,â he pointed out.Â
âNeed I remind you that you caused the towerâs collapse?â Grace said tersely. âAnd you did not end Vought. There will be repercussions to this, believe me.â
Benâs face tightened, but you grasped his hand.Â
âBut he fulfilled the mission,â you said. âHe took out Black NoirâŠand Stan Edgar in the process.â
âThe idea was to arrest him, but I get your point,â Grace said. Her hand raised to cover her mouth as she thought about your proposal.
Eventually, she spoke. âIf you can play by our rules, then weâll contract with you. But until you get that atomic bomb under control, you canât remain the city. Upstate is the best I can do.â
Ben chafed at being told what he couldnât do. What the fuck was he going to do in Upstate New York? Slowly rot to death in dusty-ass suburbia?
You shot him a knowing look, raising a brow.Â
âItâs a fair offer, Ben,â you pointed out. His lips pursed in annoyance. But he glanced at your hand in his.
Then he looked up at Grace. âFine. But first, unfreeze my fucking bank accounts.â
Ben later led you out of the hospital. There was a car waiting outside, and he got in to drive, despite you offering. He mustâve been going on very little sleep, if any over the past two days.Â
And of course, heâd refused to be seen at all medically, saying he was fine. You were still concerned about that destabilizing gun Black Noir had shot him with.Â
âIâm fine,â Ben had claimed. âJust need some sleep, thatâs all.â
You watched his profile for a moment, and a smile started to raise your lipsâŠuntil you finally remembered something that felt like a heavy stone in your stomach.
âUmâŠâ you said, earning Benâs attention. You looked up at him. âMy fatherâs deadâŠâ
Good fucking riddance, was Benâs initial reaction. Followed by a frown, as he now realized he would never get the pleasure of choking the shit out of Jon himself.Â
Ben had been fucking livid to learn from Frank that youâd been left alone in the Tower with your father while it was coming down (and Ben was petty enough to dock that little slip up from Frankâs pay). Had that asshole lived, Ben wouldnât have put it past him to try and take you with him after escaping the building. The mere thought grated on him.Â
âBlack Noir killed him,â you said, heaving a shaky breath.Â
That cut through Benâs thoughts. He glanced over, watching you fight some conflicting emotions.Â
ââŠPunched a hole straight through his chest,â you added.
Ben hummed in acknowledgement. You turned to him with a raised brow and glassy eyes. When he realized you were expecting a bit more from him, his lips pursed.
âWell, he got a quick death,â he said. âBetter than he fucking deserved, far as Iâm concerned.â
You sighed and leaned your head back on the head rest. Your eyes closed.Â
âGoddamn it, Ben.â
Ben eyed you with a deepening frown. âWhat the fuck do you expect me to say?â
âHow about some decency?â you asked, as a tear fell down your cheek. âHe tried to apologize. But I wouldnât let him.â
He paused at that. While he thought you were being unreasonable, it begrudgingly dawned on him what you wanted, and maybe, what you needed. He sighed through his nose. Even now, you were a handful.
Ben reached over, taking your hand from your lap. He pressed the back of it to his lips, earning your mild surprise. Â
âThatâs not your fault,â he said. And he briefly took his eyes off the road to look into yours. âNone of it was. You understand me?â
Your face softened. Though you tried to blink away your tears, a few of them still fell. You wiped at them with your free hand, while the other squeezed around his fingers, resting against your thigh. Despite how you were fracturing inside, warmth still kept you afloat.Â
So you looked up at Ben, and you nodded. He seemed satisfied by your answer. He turned back fully to the road, but you kept a tight hold of his hand. He allowed it.  Â
âWeâll have to go to the safe house to get our stuff,â you said eventually, with a small sniffle.
âNo need,â Ben said. âThatâs taken care of.â
That confused you. Was he taking you to your apartment then?Â
But instead, he drove you out of the city, and an hour upstate into Scarsdale. Youâd never been there, but you knew it by reputationâas one of the most affluent towns in the state.
You were even more confused when he drove down a street flanked by tall hedges within a private community. He pulled into a circular driveway in front of an immense white house, with a red brick roof, colonial architecture, a manicured lawn, complete with matching fountains lining the front door.
Ben parked the car and encouraged you to get out with him. You followed him up to the front porch, expecting an old billionaire to pop out of the tall bushes at any moment to chase you away.Â
âWhatâre we doing here?â you asked. His hands fell to the belt of his supe suit as he surveyed the stood, the door, and the walls for anything amiss.Â
âIâm looking into buying it,â he revealed, as if heâd just told you, Itâs pretty fucking sunny today, huh?Â
âOur stuff is ready to be shipped out when the deal closes with the owner,â he added.
Your eyes flew wide. âWhat? When did you have time to scope out houses?âÂ
Youâd only been discharged about an hour after the conversation with Grace.Â
âI had Frank look into some shit. He found this one,â Ben shrugged. âCould use some work, but not bad.â
Our stuff, you repeated in your mind. This houseâŠwas he trying to recreate what the two of you had in Medellin?
And more importantly, was this his way of asking you to move in with him?Â
Well, thereâs not too much asking going on, you thought in annoyance. And yet, you blushed; the sentiment in itself was enough to warm you.Â
You brought Ben back down to Earth by grasping his hands, earning his attention from the old grout in the tile.
âBen, this place is amazing,â you said. âBut I donât know if Iâll be comfortable living like this.â
He frowned down at you. âWhat the hell do you mean? You could have anything you want here. Itâs safe. Got plenty of roomââ
âA bit too much room,â you said, holding up your thumb and forefinger a couple inches apart.Â
He looked adorably grumpy. You smiled and squeezed his hand.Â
âDid you really feel cozy and at home in that mansion with fifty rooms and nobody in âem?â you asked.
He didnât answer you, and he didnât seem happy either. You didnât want him to take this as a rejection.Â
âIf weâre going to do this,â you said, âthen can we start a little smaller? Somewhere that feels like home to both of us?â
Ben stared back at you in annoyance. âYou need to broaden your palate.â
You just managed to stop yourself from laughing.
âYou havenât had a normal home in a long time, Ben,â you replied. Maybe ever, you realized. âHow about you trust me?âÂ
He gave you a dubious frown.
âWhat about this,â you tried. âLetâs pick it out together! If in a few months you still hate the new place, weâll try it your way.âÂ
âYouâre assuming weâre gonna make it that long.â Ben was starting to wonder if this was going to work after all. The two of you were from very different worlds.Â
You offered a cheeky smile. âIâm optimistic.â
He huffed. âSure.âÂ
You reached up on your toes, and gripped the front of his suit when you leaned up to kiss him. His hands rose naturally to hold you, resting on your jean-clad hips. He followed your languid kiss, his furrowed brows relaxing when you touched his cheek.
When you broke from his lips, his eyes opened to find yours.Â
âI am, Ben,â you said more seriously. âIâm not playing games. This is real to me, and I want to be with you.âÂ
But then you hesitated. You lowered back down to your feet.Â
âBut if itâs not to youâŠif youâre just passing time with me, until you get bored,â you said, âtell me now. Please.âÂ
It was Benâs turn to hesitate. It was the please that got to him, along with your downturned gaze. He captured your chin between his fingers and raised your face up to him.Â
âIâm not fucking around,â he said. âI want you to live with me.âÂ
Your smile was soft and bright when you took his hand. Ben wouldnât admit it, but something in his chest stuttered to life then.
âOkay,â you said with a nod. âLetâs do it.â
AN: *squeals* It's happening! We've really gotten here, folks. How'd you like how it all wrapped up with Grace, M.M., and even Butcher?
But we're not quite there with these two yet...
Next Time:
âWhyâre you nagging me like a goddamn wife?â he snapped.
âWife?â you scoffed, crossing your arms. âYou donât even call me your girlfriend.â
But God forbid another man even smile in your direction. Ben was possessive, protective, and claimed with all but words that you were his. And yet, he wouldnât say it.
You shouldnât have been surprised that he was afraid of commitment, but youâd been living together for six damn months.
Keep reading: THE EPILOGUE
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#More Than Words Can Say#the boys#soldier boy#soldier boy/ben#soldier boy x female reader#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy x you#the boys season 3#soldier boy/ben x reader#the boys au#enemies to lovers#frenemies to lovers#private investigator!reader#the boys amazon#soldier boy smut#break me down#Part 17#zepskies writes
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She says his name in an exaggerated and almost mocking tone, clearly enjoying making fun of him in front of you.
The girl grabs her brother and begins to pull him back into the kitchen, giving him one last look before disappearing inside.
You breathe a sigh of relief that you have time to think alone again.
You grab his arm, but too tightly, where you stopped Andrew from trying to touch you.
A FEW MINUTES LATER
Andrew and Ashley had finished making dinner, the three of you were finally able to eat, but honestlyâŠ.
You'd rather eat a cockroach than that thing called soup.
After several minutes of awkward silence, you finished dinner and started to put away the dishes.
Well, you and Andrew and that brat just sat there staring at you like I was a worm.
You stop washing the dishes and look at the boy next to you.
Andrew turns to you, his expression slightly worried as he notices the tiredness on your face.
He looks in his sister's direction and notices her disapproving look, but chooses not to say anything.
You glance at Ashley as you head towards the bedroom, reminding her that it's best to at least make a good impression, even with these types.
Ashley, still glaring at you, doesn't say anything in response, her dislike for you still apparent.
Fortunately, Andrew couldn't see his expression as his back was turned.
You finally go to your temporary room.
As you make your way to your room, you can feel Ashley's icy gaze following you until you close the door behind you, finally cutting off her line of sight.
After the door is closed, you are left in the peaceful solitude of your temporary room.
You jump into bed, incredibly uncomfortable.
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#the coffin of andy and leyley#tcoaal#villainous au#tcoaal oc#tcoaal au#villainous#the coffin of andy and leyley au#gravekeeper au#au#oc#gravekeeper#i do not support incest#gravekepper part 1#part 17
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picture spoiler đ«Ł
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Where is Apple seed 17?
Hi, acreepylittleguy!
Apple Seed 17 is up and ready! Link is in the Master List!
Stay Golden!
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You nod, a bit fascinated by what had transpired before Briar helped you down.
" We've already taken too much of our time." Briar muttered as he looked up to the sky as it was darkening before looking to you.
" Not to worry, though. I know these woods like the back of my hands.
Come with me, and we shall be there in no time."
Placing your hand in his, he guided you, only pausing to eat with you, as darkness was finally blanketing the world when you finally reached The In Between.
It was difficult to get into and live in, so the structures were sturdy and enchanted to keep the area safe.
" You have a pretty old map." Briar pointed out to you as you both strode through the lit streets, every lamp post not only having a light, but a glowing protective runes on the posts, " So many people want things like True Heart stones that a village had been built around it so anyone who got close enough to harvest them could do it safely."
He explained as he took you to a Quarry.
A pickaxe rested on a carved rock, worn from use, but open for anyone to have.
Briar gestured to it with a nearly lazy hand.
" The time has come for you, I suppose.
Good Luck." He smiled, his dark blue eyes glittering as you turned back to the pickaxe and picked it up, hefting it in your hands as you turned to the walls.
The stone and ground it was in was purely black, glittering in the lights.
However, as you struck your pickaxe down, a small hunk of True Heart fell down to your feet.
You knelt down, and reached for it.
And as you did, it glowed a color that spoke to you.
Tags: @abrokecupoftea, @one-really-annoying-tree-rat
#yandere#yandere male#original yandere characters#Sonny Rosen#Psy the Mushroom Merchant#Briar the Wood Elf#You only got to just meet these boys in a sense#But that's the Point of This#You can learn about them more deeply outside of this series#They would love to get to meet you#Pick your Ending#Part 17
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"Come for your potion?" Merlin teased when Gwen entered his work room.
"Don't forget I'm your Queen, Merlin." Gwen reminded him.
"Eh, what are you going to do? Burn me at the stake? I'm fire proof, Dragons don't burn." Merlin shrugged as he chopped some roots for the potion he was working on.
"Are you okay?" Gwen asked, Merlin wasn't usually so sarcastic, not to Gwen at least.
Merlin frowned as he looked into the bubbling potion, "No, not really."
There was a pause.
"Lancelot and I had a fight." Merlin admitted.
"You had a fight?" Gwen repeated, shocked, Merlin and Lancelot never fought.
Merlin nodded, going to sit on one of the cots he kept for patients or the childrens naps.
"What was it about?" Gwen asked as she sat next to him.
"That's just it, I don't know, or well, he was yelling about me hoarding his shirts but I don't think he's really angry about that." Merlin told her.
"Why not?" Gwen asked, usually if a person yelled about something they were angry about that thing, or at least that's how Arthur worked.
"Because Lancelot usually puts his stuff in my nest and when he's down to his last few outfits I take the nest to have the clothes washed and the cycle repeats." Merlin explained, "So, it's not that."
"Oh." Gwen frowned, thinking and then looked up when Theron began to cry.
Merlin sighed and got up to fetch the baby, tucking him close to fed him on his Magic.
Gwen looked at them and thought about how having Morgana had disrupted her and Arthur's schedule, how it had taken Elyan babysitting overnight for them to talk it out and make plans for Elyan to keep an eye on Morgana a few evenings so they could have time together.
"Merlin, how long has it been since you and Lancelot had time alone?" Gwen asked, "Time where you aren't sleeping?" Gwen interrupted when Merlin opened his mouth.
Merlin frowned, "I don't..., I think it must have been before Ellie and Effie. At least for quality together time where we weren't on our way to other tasks."
"Hmm, I thought so. I think Lancelot misses you and he doesn't know how to tell you without upsetting you." Gwen said softly as Merlin came to sit next to her, Theron in his arms.
"Right, that makes sense, but how can I fix it?" Merlin asked, looking at Theron, "Thero needs my Magic."
Gwen hummed, "Can you siffon off enough for a few days? That way Arthur and I could watch him, Morgana would love to practice having a brother, and Gwaine could watch Ellie and Effie, Leon would love having a sleepover with his favorite Dragonlings."
Merlin frowned, "Magic wants to be used, actively or not, if I siffon it off it'll just give itself a job. But perhaps... Cornelius Sigan put his soul in a gemstone, maybe..." Merlin trailed off as he handed Theron to Gwen and went digging through his books.
"Ah, here it is." Merlin cried some hours later.
Gwen looked up from where she'd been playing with Theron, shaking one of his noisy toys for him to grab at.
"What did you find?" Gwen asked as she lifted the boy up to her chest.
"A way for Lancelot and I to have a weekend away." Merlin grinned, "Well, at least if Arthur is willing to let me borrow twelve emeralds from the treasury."
"Twelve?" Gwen asked.
"Oh, it's just in case, Theron feeds twice a day and once at night, but sometims Ellie and Effie benefit from feeding on my Magic too." Merlin explained.
"Right, twelve, does size matter?" Gwen asked.
"Only with Sapphires but Emeralds are better for storeing Magic, Diamonds are the best conductors and Sapphires are best used for spell or curse work." Merlin said absently as he began preparing a space for placing his Magic in the stones.
"Alright, I'll get you the gems by tonight and make arrangements so you and Lancelot can be gone for the weekend." Gwen told him as she placed a now sleeping Theron in his basket.
Merlin looked up, "Thank you, Gwen, for helping me with this."
Gwen hugged Merlin, "You're my best friend, of course I want to help you. Besides it'll be good practice for when I finally do take that potion to have a baby of my own."
Merlin laughed, "You'll do fine, but Arthur could use the practice, I'm sure, if only so he realizes he'll do just fine."
Gwen smiled and kissed Merlin's cheek before leaving him to make the arrangements.
It would be good for Merlin and Lancelot to have time to themselves, and hopefully at a future date they'd return the favor.
--
A/n: so, Merlin and Lancelot need a vacation without the kids, any thoughts on what happens, be aware I don't do sex scenes.
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