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yelena-bellova · 2 years ago

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Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Three

Chapter Three: Out On The Town

Plot: Tess and Joel demand answers from Y/n and Ellie on the details of Ellie’s condition and venture out into the city.

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings: tlou ep.2 spoilers, language, canon typical violence, allusion to sexual harassment, guns, blood (16+)

A/N: PLEASE READ. Hello, my loves 👋🏻 I’m so glad everyone’s enjoying the series. I placed this in the previous chapter and a few other posts, but need to reiterate it. I’m not adding anyone to the taglist if they don’t have their age in their bio. This is a 16+ series and I’m trying to look out for younger eyes on here 👀

Other than that, I hope everyone enjoys these next two chapters. This one’s less action and more set-up for future parts. The next one should be out before Sunday’s episode. Read on, babes!!

—————————

May 10th, 2002. Austin, Texas.

The only proof Joel had that he’d been at the bar the night before was the throbbing pain in his temples. It was a sobering reminder that his talent for drinking was slipping with age. Still, he pounded some coffee and an Aspirin, picked up Tommy and headed off to work.

On their way, Joel found his eye straying to each women he drove past that even bore a tiny resemblance to Y/n. He should have been surprised that it had only taken one meeting for her to brand herself on his brain, but she was something special. She probably had that effect on everyone she met.

Joel parked the car outside the hardware store, leaving a semi-hungover Tommy to grab a few more minutes of sleep. Sarah was at soccer practice for the morning and then off to a friend’s house, they could almost get in full day of work.

Both the Miller brothers knew their way around the store like the back of their hands. Joel went to the back to get his quota of wood cut, made small talk with the older guy who worked the cutter and navigated the aisles effortlessly. There was nothing new about any of it…

On the other side of each aisle, Y/n was pushing a cart and restocking product. Home improvement wasn’t her passion in life, but her father had been one of those “don’t pay someone to do it if you can do it yourself” kind of guys, so it came natural to her. The pay was good, she liked her boss, and she enjoyed the community aspect of the job.

They were dancing without knowing it. Each time Joel moved in one direction, Y/n moved in the opposite, and vice versa.

Eventually, Joel got to the last thing on his list: a new drill bit. He steered his cart around a corner and down the corresponding aisle. When he got to the hook it was supposed to be on, he found it empty. This was not the day for that…

Y/n pulled down the aisle, spotting a customer rifling through a shelf, and put on her employee smile. “Can I help you find some-“

Joel practically smacked his head on the shelf above, standing up as soon as he heard that familiar voice.

Y/n’s eyes lit up, “You.”

“You,” Joel echoed, a surprised smile coming to his face.

“Hi,” Y/n chuckled.

Joel’s brain stopped firing any and all signals, “Hi.”

“So we had the same early morning planned,” Y/n smiled.

“Shoulda carpooled,” Joel replied, earning a breathy laugh. His chest warmed.

“How are you?” Y/n asked, as if some grand thing had occurred in the past twelve hours they’d been apart.

Joel leaned one arm on the handle of his cart, “Good. Headin’ off to work.”

“No Tommy?” Y/n looked over his shoulder.

“Nah, he’s sleepin’ last night off in the truck,” Joel said, putting a hand on his hip.

“Can’t say I blame him,” Y/n looped a finger through the grate of her cart, swinging her body into the aisle, “I shouldn’t have let you two buy me that second glass.”

Joel smirked, “Can’t hold your liquor?”

“Oh, I can hold it,” Y/n said confidently, scrunching up her face after, “Until the next morning.”

The two of them shared a short laugh before Y/n remembered why they were there. “You were looking for something,” she pointed to the shelf.

He was? “Oh, yeah,” Joel remembered, “Quarter inch bit.”

“Hang on,” Y/n said, determinedly sorting through one of the boxes in her cart. She pulled out the piece of steel and held it up victoriously.

“You’re my hero,” Joel said, taking it from her, “Day would have been a waste without this.”

“Well, there you go,” Y/n couldn’t help herself from beaming, “You saved me last night, I returned the favor.”

Joel internally winced at the memory.

“Are you done shopping or can I pull anything else out of my magic Mary Poppins cart?” Y/n quipped, patting a hand against one of the boxes.

“Nah, that was the last thing on the list,” he answered, wishing dearly he’d written more on the piece of paper in his hand.

“Well, I’ll check you out,” Y/n said, wishing she’d chosen any other phrasing.

Joel held up a hand, “I don’t wanna take you away from what you’re doin’.”

“Please, you’re doing me a favor,” Y/n grabbed the end of her cart and began to drag it down the aisle, “You’re the first human interaction I’ve had all morning.”

Deciding that he was doing a service and nothing more, Joel followed her through the store. He didn’t know if he believed in fate, but he believed in luck, and it felt like he’d gotten tossed a rare bit of good luck by meeting Y/n again.

Y/n was half convinced she’d caused Joel to materialize. Here she was, thinking about him and his big brown eyes all morning, and then there he was. It was either an unbelievable stroke of luck, or someone Up There had seen fit to brighten her day a little.

As Y/n scanned Joel’s items, a nervous silence blanketed them. Everything that filtered through their minds sounded too awkward to say. There wasn’t a whole lot of ground to cover, they’d only known each other for less than twenty four hours.

“You doin’ okay?” Joel finally asked, hoping he wasn’t crossing some line, “After last night?”

“Oh,” Y/n looked down at the pile of purchases, “Yeah, I’m fine. Not the first time it’s happened. I just need to get better at defending myself.”

Joel’s blood boiled under his calm demeanor, men were awful. “There shouldn’t be a need in the first place,” he bit out as he gripped his cart a little tighter.

Yn shrugged sadly, “It’s the world we live in. That’s why it’s so nice to meet guys like you and Tommy. You make up for your sex’s failings.”

Joel chuckled under his breath as he handed her his debit card, “Not sure we can fill that tall an order.”

Laughing softly enough to make Joel’s chest flutter a little, Y/n rang up the order and handed him the bags.

“Well, I guess I know where I’ll be seeing you two from now on,” she said.

“Yeah,” Joel replied, “And thanks for helping me find that bit. You really saved our asses.”

Y/n playfully held her hands up, “I didn’t get employee of the month for nothing.”

Joel could hear that little voice in his head, the same one that had a residency in the gut, telling him to take a shot and ask Y/n out. He wasn’t a timid guy, but she had some sort of spell on him that made his palms sweat and his mind go blank. Plus, he’d sworn off bringing anyone into his life a long time ago. It was all around, a bad idea.

“Well, I’ll see you around,” he finally decided on.

Y/n hoped her smile hid all her sadness, “See you.”

Joel and his cart made it about three steps before he threw caution to the wind.

“Hey,” he turned around, “Do you think, maybe….I could take you to dinner sometime?”

Y/n’s grin spread like wildfire across her face, “Yeah,” she replied, “I’d like that.”

Both of them released a caught breath, Y/n pressed a button on the printer and tore off a piece of reciept paper. She scribbled her number down.

“I work a lot,” she told him as she wrote, “But I’m usually free on Fridays.”

“Okay,” Joe took the paper from her, their fingers brushing, “I’ll call you.”

Y/n had to physically restrain her lips and the giggle that threatened to show itself. “You do that,” she responded, fiddling with her pen.

Joel gave a sideways smile, deciding to get out while he was on a winning streak. He held up a hand and turned on his heel, confidence powering his stride.

Y/n stayed at the checkout counter a little longer, trying to compose herself lest customers think she was high. She set her pen back down and did a little skip back to her cart. It was going to be a great day.

Joel made it back to the truck, loading his supplies into the flatbed with unusual enthusiasm. He didn’t care about his headache, his backache…he was flying too high for anything to bother him. He climbed into the driver’s seat, Tommy groaned as he did.

“You took your time,” he grunted.

Joel didn’t get many moments of victory, he was going to let himself bask in this one a while. He held up the piece of paper to Tommy, who leaned over and read it. Above an unknown phone number was Y/n’s name with a heart next to it.

Tommy’s grin stretched, “No way.”

Joel simply grinned and started up the truck.

“No fuckin’ way,” Tommy got louder, reaching over and shaking his brother’s shoulder. They drove off, Joel’s mood was shifted for the day. The nerves would set in later. For now, he just wanted to be excited about taking out the beautiful girl from the bar.

—————————

2023, Boston

Tess slammed Y/n up against the inside of the abandoned building.

“What the hell’s going on?”

Y/n pulled on Tess’ jacket and tried to flip her around. She rammed her elbow down on Tess’ arm and broke the hold. Before Tess could fight back, Joel took hold of both their arms and wrenched them apart. Y/n slipped as he did an fell on her side, refusing to groan and let any vulnerability show.

“I already told you,” Y/n grunted, pushing up on one arm, “She’s not sick.”

“You think we’re just gonna believe you?” Tess continued, “Give us one reason why we shouldn’t kill you both right now.”

Y/n smirked, her eyes bouncing to Joel, who glared at her with the same coldness he had twenty years ago. “How else are you going to get your battery?”

No matter how much control Joel wanted to pretend he had over the situation, Y/n held the real power. Ellie and her were the key to getting to Tommy.

Ellie watched this all from the side, exhausted and scared.

“Now here’s what’s going to happen,” Y/n stood to her feet and pointed to Ellie, “She’s going to get some sleep. At some point tonight, I’m going to do the same. Have a gun on me the whole time, I don’t fucking care,” she gestured between her and the girl, “But both of us are going to be breathing come morning,” she looked to Joel, “Or else you get to live with the fact that Tommy could have lived if it wasn’t for your overeager trigger finger.”

Joel’s blood boiled, furious with Y/n for having stepped over that line. How could she speak about his life so carelessly?

“We’ll take the first two shifts,” Tess stated, leaving no room for argument, “But we get our answers first thing.”

Y/n gave a single nod, picked up her backpack and motioned for Ellie to come with. In the middle of the building, there was a patch of grass that could act as a bed. Y/n sat down and pulled out her sweater, balling it up and laying her head atop it.

“Are you sure they won’t kill us?” Ellie asked quietly, she followed Y/n’s actions and crumpled up her jacket.

“Positive,” Y/n said as she shut her eyes. Joel may have been reckless with her life, but he’d sooner die than let anything happen to Tommy.

Ellie curled up a few inches away from Y/n. It was funny what life-or-death circumstances could do to people. Y/n was the only person Ellie had taken to out of the Fireflies, but now, with Tess and Joel as her other options for comfort, she was her new favorite person. Ellie turned on her side to face the woman, the only person she could count on to protect her…

—————————

Sunlight across Y/n eyes woke her up. She stretched out her legs and yawned, spotting a sleeping Ellie at her side. She’d never gotten woken up for her turn to keep watch, but that had been expected. It didn’t take a genius to guess what was waiting in front of her.

Sure enough, Joel had his rifle pointed straight at her chest.

“You’re getting predictable,” Y/n remarked, rubbing one of her eyes.

Ellie woke soon after, sitting up and finding the same sight.

“Morning,” she said. The second she moved, Joel’s gun followed her. Y/n immediately pulled her gun off of her belt and pointed it at her ex.

“Do I look like I’m infected?” Ellie asked.

“Show us your arm,” Joel demanded.

Ellie rolled up her sleeve and showcased the scarred bite. Tess and Joel leaned forward to examine it, which was hard to do with half a room between them.

“Yeah, it’s not getting any worse, is it?” Ellie said impatiently, “If we’re out in the open city, why aren’t we getting swarmed?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Joel ignored her concern.

“Well, I’m gonna,” the girl replied.

“What was Marlene doing with an infected kid?” Tess switched lanes.

Ellie shook her head, “I’m not infected.”

Tess and Joel gave a deadpan stare, Y/n rolled her eyes. It wasn’t like it was a fucking fairytale they were asking them to believe. There was proof right in from of them.

“She found me after I was bitten,” Ellie continued.

“And she didn’t shoot you,” Joel put another piece of the puzzle together.

“Clearly not. She locked me up and had her guys,” Ellie glanced over to Y/n, “Test me every day to see if I was getting sick.”

“Test you how?” Tess asked.

Ellie sighed, “I have to pee.”

Nobody cared. “Test you…how?”

“They’d make me count to ten and hold my hand out and then keep it steady,” Ellie answered, “But, you know, I think what really impressed them was that I didn’t turn into a fucking monster. Now can I please?”

As Ellie stood up, Joel rose with her, and so did Y/n. Betrayal and loyalty mixed between them like oil and water. Ellie held her hands up, caught in the middle of it.

“Fine,” Tess relented, “Back there, you can find a spot. And here,” she tossed a magazine Ellie’s way, “Tear out a few pages.”

Ellie glanced between Y/n and Joel, checking to make sure there wasn’t about to be a shootout, and headed back. “There’s not gonna be anything bad in here?”

“Just you,” Joel answered.

“Oh, funny,” Ellie said before disappearing.

With her gone, Joel and Y/n really had no reason to still be aiming at one another. At the same time, they cautiously lowered their weapons. Despite whatever tragic nostalgia they’d indulged in the night before, they’d gone back to hate, as if their memories had been a symptom of some bad hangover. It was all forgotten in the light of day.

Joel sat back down with Tess, letting his unflinching stare rest on Y/n. Y/n had seen enough of that scowl to not be intimidated by it. Eventually, when nothing more could be said, his eyes dropped to examine his hand. The pain had set in overnight and he couldn’t keep it from shaking.

“Broken,” Tess stated, sitting down next to him.

“Maybe a hairline,” he replied, never looking at her, “It’ll heal fast.”

“Okay,” Y/n muttered, clapping her hands together, “You keep thinkin’ positive, I’m gonna go take a piss.”

She marched over the small hill of grass and knocked on the door frame of Ellie’s makeshift bathroom. “Me,” she announced.

“Don’t fuckin’ look,” Ellie said quickly from somewhere in the room.

“I’m not,” Y/n replied, staring at the ceiling as she wandered, “Just tell me where to go.”

“Left a little,” the girl instructed, “Straight. There you go.”

Y/n unbuckled her pants and squatted, “Throw me the book?”

Ellie tossed the papers her way, they awkwardly went on with their business in silence.

As much as Y/n hated to let Joel have any sort of win over her, if they were going to convince him and Tess to help them to the State House, he was going to need more information.

“You’re gonna have to tell them,” she told Ellie, “About out West.”

Ellie was finished and standing on the other side of Y/n, “I thought I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone.”

“Yeah, well,” Y/n sighed, “They’re not gonna believe you unless you do. Marlene would say the same thing.”

“What about you?” Ellie asked, “Would they believe you?”

Y/n bitterly chuckled, the memories that once had stingers now couldn’t penetrate her thick skin. “No, they won’t believe me. You’re our only shot.”

Outside, Joel and Tess were discussing the sudden plot twist.

“She made it through the fuckin’ night, Joel,” Tess urged, her voice dripping with hope.

“It doesn’t matter,” Joel argued, “It’s gonna happen sooner or later. Alright? We’re still close to the Wall, we sneak ‘em back into the QZ. We find a different way to get the battery.”

“What about her?” Tess asked, there was no need to specify which one she was referring to, “You don’t believe her?”

“I don’t trust a fuckin’ word that comes out of her mouth,” Joel answered harshly, the past nipping at his heels, “She’s lied before and she’ll do it again.”

Tess had something unique going for her: she didn’t share history with Joel and Y/n. She saw through all their bullshit objectively. “This is our best shot,” she said, “We take ‘em back to the QZ, someone’s gonna notice her arm, they’ll scan her, then they’ll kill her.”

Joel wasted a heartlessly little amount of time with his reply, “Well, better her than us. You need to stop talkin’ about this kid like she’s got some kind of life in front of her.”

He didn’t know it, but he should have felt grateful that Y/n couldn’t hear his comment over the ripping of magazine pages. She would have shot him then and there.

Ellie and Y/n walked out, Ellie tossing the magazine back at Tess and Y/n keeping close watch as she took her seat.

“You hungry?” Tess offered to Ellie, “You can share some of ours.”

“Thanks,” Ellie replied, “Marlene sent me with my own.”

If Y/n wanted to feel like she was beating Joel in something, breakfast gave her the win. While he picked at a piece of jerky with his fractured hand, she and Ellie worked on their oversized sandwiches. Petty? Perhaps. But Y/n felt entitled to whatever form her hatred wanted to take.

“Is that chicken?” Tess finally asked.

Ellie nodded, “Yeah. Marlene and Y/n say they get it from smugglers. Guess not you guys.”

For whatever reason, even though she’d attacked her, Y/n was starting to feel empathy for Tess. She was the only one semi-amenable to Ellie’s situation. Against her instincts and more in line with her heart, she ripped the rest of her sandwich in half and walked it over to Tess, who looked up appreciatively. On her way back, she made a point of passing by Joel.

Tess stood up and approached Y/n and Ellie, setting Joel off. “Hey. Hey!”

“Why-“ Tess started, throwing a hand up to Joel to stay put, “Why is she so important to you and Marlene? And don’t lie to me or we’ll take you both back.”

“You take us back,” Ellie answered for Y/n, “You don’t get your battery.”

“You heard that?” Tess scoffed, “Well, then you must’ve heard that he wants to shoot you.”

Y/n wanted her heart to break at the comment, but when she looked into Joel’s eyes, she saw nothing. Nothing.

“He also knows he dies if he does that,” Y/n retorted, staring down the man like she could burn a hole through him by sheer force of will.

Tess kneeled down in front of Ellie, “I’m gonna talk to you like you’re an adult, okay? Joel and I aren’t good people. We’re doin’ this for us because, apparently, you’re worth something. But we don’t know what you’re worth if we don’t know what we have. So answer my question.”

Y/n and Joel saw none of the conversation, their eyes were locked on one another like bulls locking horns.

Ellie, however, took Y/n’s advice. “There’s a Firefly base camp somewhere out west,” she confessed, “With doctors. They’re working on a cure.”

Absurdity won and Joel broke his stare first, “Mm-hm, I’ve heard this before.”

“And whatever happened to me,” Ellie continued, “Is the key.”

“Is the key to finding the vaccine,” Joel’s voice overlapped with hers, turning to Tess, “That’s what this is? We’ve heard this a million times. Vaccines, miracle cures. None of it works. Ever.”

“This time it’s different,” Y/n argued.

Ellie stood up, “Fuck you, man. I didn’t ask for this.”

“You and me both,” Joel retorted, “This isn’t gonna end well, Tess. We need to go back.”

“Oh, yes,” Y/n smiled a joyless smile, “Once again, Joel Miller’s making decisions for everyone. What a comfort.”

It was the first time she’d said his name in twenty years and it was doused in venom. It should have hurt.

Tess got to her feet and came to Joel, “Let’s just finish it. It doesn’t matter if she is or isn’t what the Fireflies say she is. If they believe that she is, then…we get what we want.”

Joel faced two realities; one in which Y/n’s words from the night before came true and his brother died because of his stubbornness, and one in which he risked his life for a group of radicals running on hope that would never come to fruition.

He sighed, “If she so much as twitches…”

Ellie began to choke and snarl, flailing her hands like one of the infected. It pressed all their buttons.

“Don’t,” Tess and Y/n said in synchronization.

Ellie stopped, nervously rubbing her neck, “Yeah, okay…”

“Okay?” Tess asked her partner.

Joel glanced between Y/n and Ellie, then sighed. “Okay.”

Without another word, Tess, Joel and Y/n began packing up their gear. Ellie followed their lead, spotting Joel’s rifle. “Can I have a gun?”

“Absolutely not,” Joel replied.

“No,” Tess said.

“Not happening,” Y/n finished.

“Okay, fine,” Ellie’s voice went higher, “I’ll have to throw a fuckin’ sandwich at them.”

Joel pushed the bookcase he’d used to barricade the door aside and peeked out the door. “It’s clear,” he reported.

Y/n walked ahead of Ellie and let the sun hit her. Boston had been cold lately and the warmth was a treat.

“Whoa,” Ellie whispered behind her, she’d never seen or felt the freedom being outside the Wall brought.

“Yeah, looks different in the daylight huh?” Tess said with an almost smile.

There was beauty interlaced with the destruction. Vines twined around crumbling buildings. Grass growing around deserted cars. People theorized the apocalypse would look like blood and destruction, but survival wasn’t so black and white.

“We should get movin’,” Joel said, breaking Y/n from the first near-pleasent thought she’d had all morning.

The four of them walked through the city in a row, Ellie tried to keep pace while also taking in her surroundings.

“It’s like a fucked up moon,” she observed, wandering to look at one of the explosion sites, “Is this where they bombed?”

“Yeah,” Tess answered, “They hit most of the big cities like this.”

Maybe Tess could talk about it with some degree of separation, but Y/n and Joel kept painfully silent. They’d seen the destruction and didn’t want to deal with Ellie’s marveling at it. As Tess stopped to explain history to the girl, they kept moving.

They all came to a pause when they saw their route blocked by the remnants of a building.

“So, the State House is across there,” Tess said, “It’s about a ten minute walk if you could go straight.”

“So?” Ellie questioned.

“Long way or short way?” Joel asked.

“I mean, it’s the long way or the “we’re fuckin’ dead” way,” Tess replied.

“Well, I vote long way, based on that limited amount of information,” Ellie spoke up, “Y/n?”

Y/n inhaled to give her opinion when Joel spoke up. “We should check it from the hotel first.”

“That hand’s not broken yet,” Y/n recalled, “I’d be happy to remedy that.”

“Okay,” Tess said, breaking up the fight and taking the first steps. For two people who had survived twenty years in an infectious wasteland using nothing but their survival skills, Y/n and Joel brought out the child in each other. Once upon a time, that had been a good thing. Now, each petty comment felt like throwing a plastic knife and expecting it to kill.

———————————

They’d been walking an hour when they got to the interstate. Tess and Ellie were at the front, while Y/n and Joel were moving slower and bringing up the rear.

The curse of knowing someone so well is that even if you despised them, there was still safety in being around them. Y/n still wanted to throttle Joel and he didn’t want to be in a hundred mile radius of her. But it was better to be in the company of an enemy you knew rather than one you didn’t. Hatred couldn’t one-up their history.

“What did Marlene mean when she said you weren’t ready?” Joel eventually inquired.

“None of your business,” Y/n grunted as she stepped over a stray tire.

“It is if you’re gonna be a liability,” Joel replied.

Y/n scoffed, “Marlene says a lot of things. She’s not always right.”

While it was true, Joel had been more than surprised that Y/n had raised her gun so effortlessly at him, he could read in between the lines. Y/n had never had good followthrough. The Cordyceps had forced them all to adapt, but he sincerely doubted she could take a necessary shot.

“Stop doing that,” Y/n snapped.

“Doing what?”

“Stop thinking you’ve got me figured out,” Y/n sneered, “You have no fucking idea who I am anymore.”

Joel simply scoffed, that was only a half truth.

“Okay, Cowboy Joe,” Y/n remarked, the nickname earning a glare, “I don’t remember you being so quick with the murder,” Y/n decided to hit a little harder, “Or the drugs. Or the smuggling.”

Joel threw his arm out in front of Y/n to stop her, “Would you have rather I let him shoot us?”

Y/n inched her face closer to Joel’s, “I’d rather you fucking forget that we ever knew each other, cause this,” she gestured between them, “Hasn’t mattered for twenty years. We do this, and then you can go back to dealing pills and shoveling shit,” she trembled with anger and lowered her voice, “And we will never, ever have to see each other again.”

Joel thinned the close proximity even more, the last time they’d been this close had been under much different circumstances. “It’s forgotten,” he growled.

“Good,” Y/n whispered, her lips pursed as she turned on her heel and marched off.

Denial was a hell of a thing, but forgetting what they’d meant to each other was going to take something much stronger…

“Everyone said the open city was crazy,” Ellie mused as Y/n and Joel caught up, “Like, swarms of Infected, running around everywhere.”

“Not exactly like that,” Joel commented.

“People who’ve never seen outside like to make up a lot of shit,” Y/n added.

“So there aren’t Super-Infected that explode fungus spores at you?” Ellie asked.

“Shit, I hope not,” Tess answered, at least she had a sense of humor about all this.

“Or ones with split-open heads,” Ellie continued to earn her education, “That see in the dark like bats?”

The adults fell silent, Tess and Joel shared a look before she glanced at Y/n. Between the three of them, they’d seen the full spectrum of the abilities Infected possessed.

Like a sick joke, a distant yell echoed through the open highway. There was nothing in sight and it was impossible to tell where it had come from.

“What was that?” Ellie asked.

Joel tensed up, “Let’s keep movin’.”

————————

Once they got to the hotel, they had to get in to the hotel.

Joel shoved open the once-automatic doors and they walked in. The place had flooded, the waters that filled the lobby a mossy green shade.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Ellie exclaimed, her eyes widening as she took it all in, “You ever stay in a place like this?

“Uh, no,” Tess answered, “A little out of our league.”

“Once,” Y/n followed, “School trip to Pennsylvania.”

“How do you even know what this is?” Joel asked.

“Have you ever heard of books?” Ellie shot back.

Joel stepped down into the water, letting the sass float past him.

Ellie suddenly became hesitant, “Wait, are we going in there?”

“Yeah, we gotta get to the stairwell on the other side,” Tess replied.

“Well, I, I don’t know how to swim,” Ellie said, nervous.

Joel watched, unimpressed, from the lobby steps. “Seriously?”

“Do you think we have pools in the QZ?” Ellie retorted.

“No, smart ass. I mean,” Joel threw a leg out and hopped off the last step. The water barely hit his thighs.

“I don’t know how I was supposed to know that,” Ellie mumbled, treading into the waters with Y/n behind her.

Joel and Y/n’s argument on the highway had left her quiet. She’d been forced to change to survive the new way of life, but the memories Joel’s mere presence brought up reminded her of who she used to be. How care free, how light, how enthusiastic she’d been…she’d taken a job at a hardware store just because she liked getting to talk to people. Her old self had just become another person to mourn.

She snapped back to reality, she refused to let Joel Miller, of all people, make her fee bad about who she was.

“Hey,” Tess spoke softly, “She’s a good kid.”

Y/n glanced up at Ellie, who was wading through the water to get to the check-in desk. She enthusiastically rang the bell, “Ding! Ding!”

“Yeah,” Y/n bit back a smile, “She is.”

“Yes, sir,” Ellie played, “I would like your finest suite please,” she deepened her voice, “Yes, ma’am. Would you like me to take your luggage? Yes, ma’am,” she took hold of the luggage cart, “Right away, ma’am.”

Joel, who had lost his sense of humor over a decade ago, was done with Ellie’s excitement. “You’re a weird kid,” he remarked.

“You’re a weird kid,” Ellie repeated, a body falling out from behind the cart, “Oh, fuck me!”

Joel and Y/n had their guns drawn and were rushing over. The two of them examined what turned out to be a skeleton. Joel nudged its skull sideways with his boot, like there was a chance it was still alive and kicking.

“Uh, sorry,” Ellie nervously smiled.

Joel extended a hand to pull her up, retracting it as soon as she was on her feet. He caught Y/n rolling her eyes at him as they walked off. At this point, she was convinced he was acting like an asshole purely because he could.

The group climbed the four flights of stairs, the adults huffing and puffing while Ellie stayed as unbothered as ever.

“Fuck, holy shit,” Tess panted.

“Come on, it wasn’t that bad,” Ellie remarked.

“You try climbing ten fuckin’ floors with our knees,” Tess replied, “See how you feel.”

Y/n and Tess drifted and fell back in line with their assigned partners. While Y/n was glad Ellie and Tess had found camaraderie, she was selfish enough to not want it to come at the expense of being stuck with Joel.

They came up on what should have been their walkway, but it was blocked by a barricade of bricks and cinderblock. Joel and Tess tried the doors on each side of them, no luck.

“All right,” Tess calculated their options, “Well, I mean, maybe I could climb up there. Work my way around and open it from the outside?”

Ellie stepped forward, “Uh, no, well, I’m the smallest, so it’d be easier for me to get through.”

Y/n was quick to grab Ellie’s backpack handle, “Yeah, that’s not happening. We know what’s out there, you don’t.”

That caught Joel’s attention. When had she been sneaking out of the QZ?

“Can you give me a hand?” Tess asked of her partner.

Y/n pulled Ellie back before Joel could move her out of the way. He helped Tess up and stepped back. “You good up there?”

“Yeah, it’s a bit of a mess,” Tess reported, “So I’m gonna need a few minutes.”

It turned out, removing Tess was like removing a safety barrier for them all. Joel and Y/n sat on opposite sides of the hall, trying to keep as much space between them as possible. Ellie pulled out her pocketknife and started casually flipping it.

“Nice knife,” Joel said, trying to be cordial. Y/n was getting whiplash from his mood swings. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

Ellie didn’t flinch in her retort, “The circus.”

Joel sighed, looking away from both of them. This was him trying to be somewhat friendly, though it still came off as being put out.

Ellie, on the other hand, was better at small talk. “Where are you from?”

“Texas,” Joel answered.

“Y/n said she knew your brother,” Ellie replied, “So you all lived in Texas?”

Y/n took a breath, Joel watched her. “That’s right,” he said.

“What about Tess?” Ellie asked.

“Detroit,” Joel answered, “It’s in Michigan.”

“I go to school,” Ellie shot back quickly, “I know where Detroit is.”

Silence fell again over the threesome, eagerly awaiting Tess’ return.

“So,” Ellie started talking again, “Are you two, like, a-“

“Pass,” Joel cut her off.

“How’d you end up in Boston?” Ellie pushed, it was becoming a game for her.

“Pass,” Joel answered, “No more questions about me.”

Clever as ever, Ellie found a work around. “Okay,” she turned to Y/n, “Were you and him a-“

“Nope,” Y/n said quickly, it was more a denial of an answer than an answer itself.

Ellie sighed, trying to think up something else. “How long do Infected live?”

Joel mockingly shook his head, “Oh, I thought you went to school.”

“It’s a really shitty one,” Ellie replied.

Joel smirked, he could appreciate the girl’s wit under different circumstances. It rivaled his own. “Well, some last about a month or two,” he answered, “But there’s other’s been walkin’ around ‘bout twenty years.”

“Ever kill one?” Ellie asked, still fiddling with her knife.

“Yeah, I killed lots of ‘em.”

Y/n stiffened, hoping if she stood still, the conversation would move right past her.

“Was it hard?” Ellie continued, “Like, knowing they were people once?”

It took all the strength Y/n still possessed to not let her emotions show. To not let the nightmares take her over. She didn’t have time for them.

No matter how hard they argued that they were strangers, Joel could sense her discomfort. Her experiences with Infected were one more thing he didn’t know about her now.

“Sometimes,” he said, watching Y/n as her eyes stayed closed in concentration.

“What about that guy last night?” Ellie kept going.

A well-timed thump excused Joel from answering, him and Y/n jumped to attention.

“You can put the gun down, Joel,” Tess grunted through the wall, straining to open one of the locked doors.

“Where to?” Y/n asked.

Tess’ grim expression led them out to the hotel’s balcony, she pulled back the vinyl curtain and let them walk out onto the terrace. Ellie gained traction on the ledge’s decor and climbed to the edge. Joel and Y/n ended up on each other’s side.

Y/n’s stomach dropped at the sight beneath her.

Dozens upon dozens upon dozens of Infected lay fifty feet below them in a heap. Their sickening shrieks bounced off the buildings as they crawled and thrashed aimlessly.

“There’s so many,” Ellie gasped.

“The last time we were here,” Tess said, “They were still deep inside the buildings. Then I guess enough people came through looking for the QZ, they went inside seeking shelter…and that’s how they get more and more of the city, bit by bit, every year.”

Y/n watched through dead eyes as the horde began to move as one. She hadn’t seen this many in a long time, long enough for the sight to feel fresh. She stopped listening to Ellie and Tess’s conversation and focused on her breathing to battle the nausea, in through the nose, out through the mouth…

Joel saw it all, and he knew better than to ask. Marlene was right; she wasn’t able to handle the journey on her own.

“So we’re not going that way,” were the first words Y/n could hear again.

“No,” Tess answered Ellie.

“What do we do then?” Ellie asked, her eyes widened with fear, “Short way?”

Tess and Joel shared a look, his hands fidgeted as he thought through their route. “Museum.”

—————

TYL Taglist: @bachiracore @stolenxkissess @kayleezra @the-wistful-reader @allthesesonsofbitches @goth-detectives365 @trippovert @rh1nestonecowg1rl @emiliaserpe @khaleesihavilliard @frietiemeloen @gracie7209 @dorck26 @thegirlnextdoorssister @alanis-altair @mariwinns16 @whosscruffylooking @endofthexline @alexiaricciardo @eonnyx @pedrosmexicangf @scarlettequinn @ao-sleepy @toinfinityandbeyonce2 @deanlovescassie @turmoil-ash @sorrowjunky @kpopslur @xxlilyxx90

Joel Miller Taglist: @xsnak-3x @xmoonknightlyx @simplybarnes @stolenxkissess @mandoshoney @alexiaricciardo @eonnyx @deanlovescassie @paintlavillered

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #the last of us imagine #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #twenty years later

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ironunderstands · 9 months ago

Text

GUYS GUYS GUYS I FIGURED OUT HOW THE FINAL VICTORY LIGHTCONE HAPPENED PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE LET ME RANT I CONNECTED THE DOTS I CONNECTED THEM

SO I WAS HAVING THIS AMAZING CONVERSATION WITH ONE IF MY MOOTS AND I REALIZED, WE SEE THE SCENE IN THE “FINAL VICTORY LIGHTCONE” TAKE PLACE, or rather, SECONDS PRIOR LET ME EXPLAIN EEEEE

Ok ok ok ok so in our first meeting with Acheron we witness a very conversation between Aventurine and Dr. Ratio, where Aventurine says

NOW KEEP THE THREE CHIPS AND RATIOS DOUBT IN MIND

ALRIGHT SO WE HAVE THAT NOW WHEN DOES THE LIGHTCONE TAKE PLACE???? ITS NOT CONFIRMED BUT ITS VERY EASY TO EXTRAPOLATE THAT ITS POST AVENTURINES ARGUMENT WITH DR. RATIO, FOR A NUMBER OF REASONS

a) Post-Argument Aventurine needs ratio not to doubt him and within the lightcone he does some Russian roulette to prove he never loses a gamble

b) Aventurine has virtually nothing on Pencony, literally nobody likes him or wants to partner with him and the family stole a lot of his stuff so he’s desperate for help and the trust of anyone, including Ratio, who doesn’t believe he can pull it off with so little resources and communication

c) they leave that conversation on a bad note and that has to be rectified, the logical conclusion would be the lightcone is the rectification of the previous argument

NOW, AND THIS IS WHERE IT GETS INTERESTING; here is the descriptioj of the lightcone

“You don’t believe me?” aka him confronting Ratios doubt, AND HE TAKES OUT THREE!!! THREE SHOTS!!!

Now where have we heard that before

Ah, ratios doubt, and THREE chips. So, if you place the scene of the lightcone right after this one, you end up this this.

“Ah the charming audacity! To think that you, of all people, might emerge victorious dear gambler” (VICTORIOUS YOU KNOW LIKE THE FINAL VICTORY LIGHTCONE HUH HUHHHHHH REAJAJSJS)

“Three chips are enough. All or nothing”

“You don’t believe me?”

PROCEED THE REST OF THE EVENTS IF THE LIGHTCONE.

I COOKED I AM CORRECT IDGAF IF THIS SOMEHOW, SOMEHOW ENDS UP BIRTHDAY BEING CANON IT MAKES TOO MUCH SENSE AND LINES UP TOO DAMN WELL NOT TO BE GOOD NIGHT

#aventurine #dr ratio #aventio #IDC IF THIS WAS OBVIOUS TO OTHER PEOPLE I FEEL LIKE I DISCOVERED SOME LAW OF REALITY #Hsr #penacony

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8-dermestid · 9 months ago

Text

it's like as if somebody was gripping my throat

relationship: eyeless jack x reader

word count: 6.2k

links: available to read on ao3

warnings: canon-typical violence

M. Eerie National Park is one of the most boring places to work. You hike the trails to make sure nobody is trying to stay after hours, clean up garbage, and befriend the local cryptid.

Nobody knows about that last part except for you.

(like/reblogs are greatly appreciated, requests are open ✷)

“—Shocking news for M. Eerie National Park. Another victim, twenty-one-year-old Penn State student Ryan Sheppard, discovered on the property—”

You dig into your food, tuning out the broadcast as you scarf down your lunch and prepare for work. You rinse your bowl, toss it into the dishwasher, and move into the bedroom to change out of your pajamas and into your uniform. You pull up your cargo pants and pull on a green collared shirt with the M. Eerie National Park logo embroidered on the pocket. After deodorant, you pull on your hiking boots, grab your jacket and bag, and leave towards your car.

She’s a beat-up old thing, but she gets you to and from work without too much trouble. It’s a short, red, rust-damaged Honda Civic. Your car’s engine is strong, and it, other than the external imperfections and duct-taped-on mirror, has treated you well, and you’ve never felt the need to trade up.

(Nor the want, being a park ranger hardly gives you enough money to keep your head above the water, but you love it, and working an office job sounds worse than pulling all your toenails out at once with rusty pliers.)

The car sputters to life, rumbling beneath you in her comfortable and familiar way. You look down at the radio—the clock reads 14:37—you’ll be on time for the start of your shift. The drive isn’t exciting, and you’d take your boring drive over a three-hour drive to the office any day. Your job is so easy, too, a simple routine you follow every day—go in during the afternoon, hike the trails before closing, watch for lost folks and garbage, and close up the park. It’s easy, so easy that your job is almost dull. You walk into the break room, your lunch in your non-dominant hand, and stumble into a meeting.

“Oh. Hey guys.” You hesitate, creeping over to put your food in the fridge. Usually, the break room was empty, and Leslie, your superior in the standard uniform with her beat-up clipboard, was marching back and forth like a drill sergeant.

In the kindest way possible, you hope she retires. She’s been working here for so long and managing everything that she deserves some R-and-R. Leslie is the backbone of the team, and one would have to pry her position from her cold, dead hands (even then, it would still be a fight), but she should consider passing the job to someone else.

You plop down in one of the three empty chairs. Two of your coworkers transferred to another park (quite suddenly, too, no two-week notice or anything). It’s not good, especially considering they were the only other people working your shift.

“Alright, we can wrap up this meeting with a quick problem,” Leslie begins again, waving quietly to you. “Guests have been reporting stolen items more than usual, lots of jackets, gloves, boots, ooh—food, too,” Leslie jots something down on her clipboard, “To be honest, I think people are just misplacing things and blaming it on the wildlife, but if you see anything, just radio me, and I’ll come to help you sort it out.”

You nod. People leave things where they shouldn’t be all the time—you can't count the number of times families wake up with ransacked coolers because they leave them outside unprotected.

Leslie sighs, “And—look—there have been more than a few teens sneaking off into the woods before we close. Please, I don’t want another 24-hour challenge incident on our record. Keep an eye out for them. I mean it.”

Everyone affirms, whether with a nod or a “Yes, Leslie.”

The team filters out of the break room, and one of your coworkers (with wild, dark hair and stickers nearly smothering the Molly on her nametag) bounds to your side like a deer.

“You think it’s a bear?” She asks. She’s practically bouncing off the walls despite Park Ranger being the least thrilling job on the planet.

You shrug. You don’t carry the same energy that Molly does. She is just a wee sixteen-year-old at your side working her first big girl job, and any excitement at this middle-of-nowhere park is a godsend for her.

“Well, it could be a bear. But, I mean, a bear wouldn’t be stealing men’s jackets or boots.” she suggests, “Maybe not a bear, or maybe it’s those kids again… Remember the kids from a few weeks ago?”

Oh. Oh, of course, you remember those kids. Three of them, two girls and some in-between kid, all seventeen and seniors at the local high school (local being the closest high school, which was thirty miles away) that Leslie caught trying to stay overnight for some silly internet challenge. One of them, the in-between kid with the flattest hair you’ve seen in a while, brought an Ouija board because of some weird internet gossip about your park. It was strange—super, duper weird—because the couple (apparently, maybe? You aren’t sure) ditched the third girl to make out under an abandoned deck. Leslie only caught them because the third (a taller, more heavyset girl with colored hair) was terrified of some tall, slender man who scared her on the internet.

“God, don’t remind me.” You finally say. You still remember the three of them yelling at each other, Leslie dragging them out by the collars of their shirts like scruffed cats after they got caught (because one of the girls was a crybaby, their words, not yours).

Leaving the break room and finally feeling the sun this morning, Molly waves you goodbye and starts jogging down her favorite trail. She’s got energy for miles; if she were older and wiser, she could compete with Leslie.

Speaking of, Leslie pats your shoulder. Her grey hair shimmers in the sun, and she, with wrinkles showcasing her long and fulfilling life, smiles down at you.

“Afternoon, kiddo. You doing alright?”

You nod, more focused on the heavy workload you have in front of you.

Leslie pats your back like a coach would to her favorite player, “I know Josh and Ryan quitting hasn’t been easy on you.” Her voice is too solemn for a work transfer, “I’ll be working tonight, too, if that eases you.”

You perk up, half with relief and half because working with Leslie is the best. It’s comforting to have a superior like her around when people start getting wild in the woods; she’s good at grabbing people by the scruff and dragging them out, kicking and hollering.

“You can take care of the Southern Reach, yeah? You’re a big kid—you can handle it.”

You’re more than just a kid, but between her being near retirement age while you are fresh out of college—you are a kid in her eyes. You nod, already unhooking your heavy flashlight from its carabiner.

“That’s the ticket. I’ll take Northern. We’ll meet back up here for closing.”

“No, no, I’ll handle closing.” You persuade, “Come on, Leslie, I can handle closing a big gate. Just handle Northern and go home.”

She debates it, rolling the idea around in her mind before conceding. “Alright, kiddo. Just this once, though.”

At first, with the sun just touching the horizon, your checks go well, and you clean up a few empty beer cans along the southernmost trails. Your trash bag is light, which is a plus. You don’t need to pull your flashlight out until past seven in the evening when the moon peeks out behind you. You find an empty can of soup (chicken-noodle but with star-shaped pasta instead of noodles). The top looks messily cut, as if with a knife, which isn’t at all uncommon.

Except, well, this can has a pull tab disregarded by the previous user. You turn over the can in your palm, examining the shredded metal and paper label, and toss it into the bag with the rest of the trash.

Further, closer to the center of the trails, there is another disemboweled can. You pick up one, the lid is also ripped off, the pull-tab forgotten about, yet this soup can has more than half of it ripped off into a swirly shape, almost like someone was desperate for something to eat. It’s Campbell’s, not Grandma’s cooking.

There’s another can further into the woods, more shredded than the last, with a deep dent in the center; the can was clean, too clean, which is both weird and disgusting. Dogs shouldn’t eat this stuff concentrated—too much sodium.

Another one; there is a streaky, black substance marbling with some soup still sitting at the bottom of the can; another, and more of that black slime. You carefully pick up each one and add it to the bag. The next can has more of that substance—almost too much. The smell is putrid. It burns inside your nose, and you get a whiff of formaldehyde or something that reeks of death.

You keep traveling into the woods, finding more debris and litter, an old chewed-through sleeve, a jacket, and a glove smattered with that syrup-y oil. There’s something wet beneath your palm, and thank the stars you chose to bring your gloves this morning. It’s red, with a black slime marbled in it. It’s sticky between your fingers, and it smells awful. You follow the trail of red and black with your flashlight.

The source is the mangled carcass of a hiker wearing a high-vis vest. You suck in a breath and reach for your walkie-talkie. It’s sickening, and you can’t stop looking at the body as you radio for your superior.

“Leslie? Leslie, you there?” You plead, hands shaking and mind racing. Of all the people you want to pick up, it’s her. She’s been working here since before you were born—maybe she’s found a mutilated person in her time working the trails.

The silence stretches for an eternity until you hear a familiar voice on the other end.

“Hey, I’m here. What’s going on?” She asks.

“Uhm, I don’t know,” You make the mistake of looking at it, at the remnants of a man, at the carcass before you. “I don’t even know what could do something like this.” God, it makes you sick, but you can’t look away.

“Come on, talk to me,” She barks, her voice firm with years of seniority, “What are you seeing? Talk.”

You swallow. “Some hiker got attacked. They’re not responsive,” You mutter into your little plastic lifeline. “I’m off Trapper’s—I don’t know—Christ, I’m going to be sick.”

“...Okay,” Leslie replies quickly, “Are you safe?”

You don’t know the answer to that question. You swallow a lump in your throat as you look frantically for movement in the dark woods. Leslie says something, but you can’t hear it over the sound of your heart hammering away in your ears. You see movement between the trees, the primal part of your brain attempting to identify any immediate danger. Everything is spinning, it reeks of death, and Leslie’s voice is staticky because of the shitty speakers.

“Answer me! Come on, kiddo, where are you?” She shouted, her voice laced with harsh static.

Your flashlight flickers, and you hope whoever ordered these flashlights has something horrible happen to them. Something rustles in the bush. The only thing you have to protect yourself is a bag of loose garbage and your shitty flashlight. Leslie is shouting so loud you can only hear half of her words. Whatever emerges from that bush will eat you alive—you’re sure of it.

The stench of death gets heavier as a figure crawls out from beneath the foliage, wearing a dark hoodie and a blue mask. There’s blood and guts caked under their fingernails, and they look filthy and smell worse. They lock eyes with you and try to stand, stumbling and letting out a near-inhuman cry. You hold your heavy flashlight like a baton—all it’s useful for, considering the lightbulb works when it wants to—as the masked stranger lets out a wheezy breath and crawls towards you.

You grip the flashlight so hard your hands are shaking, taking careful steps back to maintain some distance between both of you. Their approach doesn’t stop. They reach and grab at your leg and pull you to the ground. Your head is spinning as it collides with the damp earth, and you feel two hands digging into your abdomen, sharp nails scratching and attempting to burrow into your stomach. You shout as their ice-cold hands scrape across your body, their claws raking across tender flesh.

You thrash and try to push them away, but they hold you down with one hand and remove their mask with the other.

You always said you’d know what to do if you were in a slasher flick. You always called the protagonists stupid for freezing up in front of certain death, never thinking about what it felt like, knowing you were probably going to die. You look them in the eye—more so what’s left of them, staring into two tar-filled sockets where their eyes would be—and unable to do anything.

You lay back, each breath barely making it in and out of your lungs. They stop, hands still pressed firmly against you. They crane their neck, probably just as surprised as you for simply giving up. They tug your shirt back down, pressing a palm over it and smoothing the fabric with their palm.

It reignites something in you because before either of you can register what’s happening, they’re squealing in pain as you hit them upside the head with your flashlight. You scramble away, pulling yourself to your feet and running blindly to the main trail.

You don’t stop, even after the demonic cries die out under the sound of the beginning storm. You push and push yourself until you nearly collide with Leslie.

“Stars—! Kid, where the hell were you? What the hell happened to you?”

She shines the light across your face, then brushes a leaf from your coat. It’s hard to think about speaking; Leslie knows you’re trying.

“Hey, it’s okay. Come on, I’ll drive you home, kiddo.”

“But the—”

“Don’t worry about it,” She says as softly as she can, “You’ve done all you can do. Anything about you that I should be worried about?”

You pat your abdomen, a few lines of brown blood staining the front. You shake your head, and Leslie holds off on grilling you for details.

✷𓃞 ✷

She drives you home in her big pickup truck (she even went through a drive-thru and got you something to eat on the way home). She pats your back as you dig through the bottom of the bag for scraps.

“Don’t think about coming back tomorrow—Partly because you’ve been through hell tonight—but also because there’s going to be an investigation. Look—take it easy, maybe go see your doctor, don’t come back until at least next Tuesday.”

Leslie pulls over to the side of your street and pulls out a box of cigarettes. “I mean it, take it easy. You do enough work while you’re on the clock; don’t worry about anything—I have people that can cover your shift if you need more time off.”

You nod, gathering your things and walking towards your house, digging your keys from your jacket to escape the rainy weather. You shut the door behind you, and Leslie walks towards her truck, a thin line of smoke trailing behind her.

You open the door, and a warm puff of air welcomes you home. It’s quiet and dark, leaving you on edge from tonight’s incident. Instead of relaxing—like Leslie practically ordered you to—you drop your bag at the front door and book it to your computer. It hums to life, and you punch in your password and open your web browser. Surprisingly, being attacked by a person-shaped thing did not perturb your furious web-searching.

Creature in the woods near me

Masked creature, person that tried to eat me?

Blue man— you hastily hit backspace as Blue Man Group auto-fills in your search bar.

You keep trying outrageous combinations of words, eventually finding a near-defunct blog with a picture of the freaky humanoid that almost killed you.

EYELESS JACK. Well, the name fits. At least you’ve finally got a name for that face. You read through this article, which recounts this woman—a hiker-slash-rock-climber, to be more specific—coming into contact with a human-ish guy. They had a few photos of deep claw wounds that scarred over pale on her dark skin. You jot down the name, continuing to dig into the incident recounted by this woman.

You pause and close all your curtains and turn off all the lights (and you get yourself a drink to keep yourself awake). Sinking into your chair again, you continue the deep dive into this Eyeless Jack fellow, feeling like a detective from some once-popular show that wasn’t that good. You keep searching—jotting down leads for your search—until the sun is peeking over the horizon, and you can hardly keep your eyes open. Eyeless Jack has been around for longer than you first believed—they’ve probably been terrorizing after-dark visitors of your park for years, right under your nose.

Are there more missing-person cases? Did any of your coworkers who quit unexpectedly actually have a reason? God, this journey to the weirdest parts of the internet has left you with more questions than answers.

You look down at the big sticky-note pad you used for notes. It looks like you fell off the deep end with your feverish scrawling, smeared ink, and lots of quick notes about disembowelment, kidney removal, and even cult activity. You think this may need another night of internet excavation to answer those (and inevitably, come up with more, even crazier, questions). Based on a few accounts of unwanted kidney removal in their sleep, you think about getting something to eat—

—and staying as far from your bed as possible.

✷𓃞 ✷

You can’t even eat breakfast without being tempted by your thirst for knowledge; it’s unbearable. You don’t even want to think of spending more than a few days at home. Hopefully, the police hurry up and finish so you can start your investigation.

You quickly rinse and dry your empty dish, filling a glass of water and flopping onto the couch. Surfing channels and finding something mindlessly entertaining will probably take your mind off things.

The news is boring—talking about the recent storm off the southern coast—and some cooking show. A history documentary—about someone you don’t care for—a jewelry channel, another news channel, and a kids’ show.

(Tempting, but no.)

The local news, though not mindless, is entertaining. There’s an over-top camera view of the park. Dozens of police cruisers and K-9 units are parked—and you can see your car, your old, rusty girl in the lot—Cops are infesting every corner of your TV, some moving into the woods toward Trapper’s, others lingering to talk in the view of the helicopter. It cuts to a news anchor recapping the incident from last night. They think it’s a bear attack. Leslie says it was a bear attack. Your coworkers say it was a bear attack, and Wildlife Removal will deal with it.

They don’t know anything—Jack tore into that hiker like a wild animal—and left the poor guy’s insides all over the forest floor.

You don’t stop watching the news until they start talking about the weather, where you only half-listen. There’s going to be a storm tonight. The teams at your job are probably going to try to recover the body and bring it to the morgue before it starts raining.

You turn off the TV after that. You examine your abdomen, five short lines across your belly where their claws made contact. You decide to go to the bathroom to clean and dress them.

“Better to be safe than sorry.” You tell yourself.

After a few cotton balls soaked in alcohol and big bandaids later, everything is clean enough and about as well-dressed as you can, considering your supplies.

There’s not much to do at home, and trying to take your mind off things with your usual hobbies isn’t working. You even try scrolling mindlessly online, but you can’t stop thinking about last night.

Why did they stop—and so suddenly?

You lift your shirt and brush your thumb over the bandaids on your belly, the skin still too hot and tender. Maybe you were just lucky, stupidly lucky. You pick up your home phone and dial Leslie’s number. She at least deserves a warning about what’s out there.

“...What are you doing?”

“Leslie,” there’s some strain in your tone, “Hey, Leslie. How are things?”

“You’re calling about work? You’re supposed to be on vacation.”

Yes. Yes, you are.

“I know, but—Look, it’s about last night. I know you specifically told me not to do any digging, but—”

“Kid,” She cuts you off. You can picture her frustration as she probably rubs at her temples, “Tell me you did not do that.”

Yes. Yes, you did.

She sighs dramatically. “You work too hard—even when I order you to stop thinking about work, you do it anyway.”

“Look, it wasn’t an animal. It was a guy.”

“...What.”

You pull the phone from your ear. You probably do sound crazy. And you will continue to sound crazy when you talk about what you found online from defunct blogs from 1999. No matter how you try to spin it—every time you start talking—you can not come up with the words to explain that the scary internet creature is real. Leslie will not believe you, and who the hell would?

“...Nevermind. I have to go. I have, uhh, laundry in the dryer.” You mutter.

“Well, feel better, and stop going on the internet—you’ll scare yourself out of your skin with stuff people make up for fun,” Leslie sighs, then her voice goes soft, “I mean it. Take care of yourself. We’re thinking of you, kiddo. Oh, and Molly says hi.”

You swallow a lump in your throat. “...Well, let Molly know I said ‘Hi’ back.”

“Will do. Okay, see you next week.”

You hang up.

✷𓃞 ✷

It’s damp. The fallen leaves are starting to rot and turn mushy under their boots. Jack tears through another can with their claws and downs a mixture of soup and soaked-through chicken. They drink, grinding the sinewy chicken and too-soft between their teeth, swallowing harshly and curling up at the taste. Police swarming the woods like ants to fruit has been awful; Jack is tired. Everything burns, they’re tired of running, and they’re still so hungry.

Other foods are necessary to Jack’s diet—they can’t live off meat. They need carbs and stuff—but if Jack has to spend more time seeing faces, they will start digging for their kidneys. They collapse underneath a fallen tree, curling up like a woodlouse. If the police find them, Jack just hopes it’s quick.

They can hear men shouting somewhere nearby with their big, angry dogs.

Jack falls asleep there, eventually, and they don’t know what time it is when they wake up, just that it’s dark out again, and it’s so quiet.

They survive off stolen clothing and soup cans between stays at the manor. Though their vision is gone, Jack still lives with psychosis (one would figure getting their eyes melted with hot tar would prevent visual hallucinations). Eating human flesh, though a taboo solution to their symptoms, allowed Jack to clear their mind and function.

Jack sunk deeper under the heavy log when they heard footsteps and a whining dog.

“I know, boy.” A man says, coughing as the air smells of cigarettes.

Jack’s nose burns at the smell. The dog sniffs at the earth and knocks aside a pile of leaves with its nose, whining and howling. The officer kicks aside the leaves and sighs.

“...Alright,” He says, the metal bits of the dog’s vest clicking together as the dog grows restless, thrashing against it.

The man hunches down, the sound of a plastic bag crinkling in his palm, muttering something to the canine.

“Atta-boy. Come on, Chester, it’s damn creepy out here.” With the tug of the leash, the officer and his canine retreat out of the woods.

When the two are out of earshot, Jack squeezes out from under the log and feels around in the dirt, sniffing the air and only smelling wet earth. Their chest tugs in a sickened sort of way, and they sink back into their hiding place and curl up into a ball. The rain picks up again. Wind howls and thunder crackles in the sky, rattling the earth.

Their new jacket, which they snatched off an unsuspecting hiker, was Jack’s only protection from hypothermia stealing the heat from their digits. Jack breathes into their palms, hot air flowing across their stiff fingers (which Jack promptly stuffed into their underarms to warm them up).

The wind doesn't hesitate to rob Jack’s already-deprived body of what little it has. Jack can’t stop thinking about how hungry they are—and how they see faces melting in their periphery whenever their mind wanders. They pick at the raw edges of their sockets in a measly attempt to soothe. It doesn't work. Nothing works anymore, even when Jack can consume human meat. After only a few hours, Jack’s skin is already itching with the need to keep consuming, to keep eating, to stave off their psychosis by any means necessary. They tug—and tug, and tug, and tug until they’re shaking—at their raw skin, where hardened pitch meets seared flesh and patchy brows. It’s unbearably cold, it’s so fucking cold, and going back to that hellish manor sounds like paradise right about now.

But that’s not an option.

✷𓃞 ✷

Tuesday finally comes around, and you can return to work.

You pack two lunches today. Your bag is just leftovers in a takeaway container (dinner from yesterday), and the other is a sandwich with a few slices of Swiss cheese and meat (far more meat than you’ve ever used at once). It’s got other things on it; you aren't going to give some hungry person—who’s probably been living alone in the wilderness for who knows how long—a boring sandwich. Too bad if they don’t like mayo (Well, you hope they like mayo, lest they rip you in two for the offense of a condiment on real-people food).

You fill your water bottle, grab your keys, and head out the door.

Leslie’s truck is humming outside. Your car is still in the lot at work. You were not in any condition to drive after, and Leslie would not have let that happen. She moves her bags as you climb into the passenger seat. You set down your things on the floor, trying to conceal the second lunch you made.

“...Glad to have you back, got everything?” Leslie asks.

You nod, jingling your keys.

She flicks her turn signal to the left and drives onto the road, turning right onto the main road.

The car is quiet, except for the radio playing old 80s hits, thick with the tension that you almost died the last time you went to work.

“You can work wherever you want today. Molly’s willing to work with your plans. I can imagine not wanting to do trail walks after, well, you know what.”

“I’ll be okay,” You say, ”I’ll do trails today. Not a problem.”

Leslie grips the steering wheel tight. “You’re sure? After you know what, I figured you would want to quit,” She turns left, “I wouldn’t blame you.”

“No. I’m a little shaken up, but I’m okay.” You say, looking out the window.

Leslie makes some noise like she knows you’re lying. Your brush with death should have turned you off from any outdoorsy work, but here you are, making lunches for the thing that tried to rip you open like an orange. Maybe your too-empathetic and hopeful parts hope this sandwich helps them out. Everything you read about them was far from pleasant—Some of it didn’t seem real.

“A mixture of blood and hot tar poured into the eye sockets.” You recall.

This stuff about Eyeless Jack you read felt like fiction, but what you saw that night was real. God, it sends shivers down your spine, makes you feel ill—you don’t know what you would do if put in that scenario (blinded, abandoned, and left to die in the woods with an insatiable hunger for human flesh? Jack has been active for years, all alone, you think, you’re not sure how you would last even half as long).

“...Did they find anything?”

Leslie sighs. “No. But it’s an animal, so it’ll return next time it’s hungry. We’ve got more people on watch. Hopefully, we can get Wilderness Removal or Animal Control on it, maybe kill it if we have to.”

You hope not. Leave the critter that keeps eating people alone; they should just leave a plate of food out.

“Maybe don’t try to hunt down the wild critter-person like an animal.” You think. The rest of the ride is silent. You pull up to the park and see Molly chatting with a guest. She spots you looking out the window and waves, delighted to see you again.

“I wanted to give you this in case anyone tries giving you trouble.”

She passes you a black cylinder that’s roughly four inches tall. The button on top and the spray nozzle tells you it’s pepper spray.

“...Thanks, Leslie.”

“Anytime.”

You pull on your coat and leave your lunch in the fridge, taking the other out. Then, you jog over to your car and abandon the pepper spray in the cup holder; you hope that this choice won’t get you killed tonight, but you need to start on a good foot.

Your day-to-day rhythm comes back to you. You warmed yourself up on the more populated trails, picking up cans and directing folks about. It’s sparse, only seeing small groups unfazed by the recent killings (perhaps through ignorance or a belief that death is beneath them). The dread is heavier when you walk an empty trail that’s usually lively with people, even during the day, when dangers lurking in the bushes are more visible. As the sun creeps across the sky—and lower towards the horizon—fewer and fewer people choose to risk hiking after dark, lest they get disemboweled like the last guy who tried.

By 19:00, it’s empty. There’s nobody around other than you. But you know they’re still out there, listening to your every movement (and every breath and every hitch).

You scan the edge of the woods where they’re probably hiding, carefully stepping over the foliage while you intentionally stray from the carefully manicured path.

The trails are well-kept. The landscaping crew works diligently and takes pride in their work, keeping them free of debris and roots that would make the footpath a challenging terrain. Beyond the edges of the dirt roads, however, the forest is wild; vines writhe and twist along the floor, every plant fighting for sunlight in the undergrowth, with bigger-than-your-head leaves and trees wearing thick coats of creeping ivy. You witness the cycles of life and death within this delicate ecosystem—young trees climb higher and higher, growing larger and larger; insects feast upon the trees, rely on the trees, live and die by the trees; the trees, after centuries of life, die and rot; the lichen and insects feast on the rotting wood and refresh the cycle anew.

It makes you feel small and insignificant, as the world around you lives and dies without even noticing your existence. It’s like being surrounded by other people’s ideas in a museum, thousands of other people, forgotten by time, remembered by their art, or their shoes, or their stories through other people’s mouths.

Your boot slips on slick earth before you can continue your mental spiral about your insignificance as one among billions. Your boots squeal against pulpy mud and you nearly slip down into a strange recess; the earth is slick with that same slime, though it is more grainy and pus-like in texture. You follow the streaks in the muddy ground, where it slips underneath a large, rotten log.

You shine your light underneath, spotting a shivering, cobalt-blue mask underneath layers of jackets and stolen fabrics.

Maybe they’re sleeping, and waking them up (though with the promise of real people food) may upset them enough to maul you like a bear and eat you for lunch instead.

They shift and wiggle into the recess they carved out for themselves, hearing some shuffling outside of their burrowing. They suck in a deep breath through their nose, and the smell of human sears the insides of their lungs like smoke. They hunch a little bit, curling into a more upward sitting position, sniffing the air, inhaling once, twice, then a third time until they have that scent burned into their hindbrain. They can’t stop drooling, salivating at the thought of finally feeling okay again, having something to cut through the smoky, blurry feeling. They hear shuffling, their prey slinking back as they curled forward. They can’t suppress the growl that rumbles in their throat, teeth licked behind the mask. They don’t move like a person in preparation for a chase. Jack slips out of their nook, their body curled forward and arms hanging limp.

Jack reaches up and peels the mask like a second skin, revealing tar-filled sockets that bore down at your scent.

Jack lurches forward like they’re on a leash, sinking their claws into your arm and digging in, etching out five deep grooves, each weeping a stream of blood that makes Jack’s mind run wild. Without thinking entirely, Jack pulls your arm forward and sinks their teeth into your bicep, leaning their body weight against you, knocking you both to the floor. There’s kicking and screaming, high-pitched whining as Jack’s teeth tear through skin and sinew, coating your arm in blood and spit.

You cry out, trying to pull their steel trap of a jaw out of your arm—managing to loosen their upper jaw, and by shoving them away with the heel of your palm, you manage to rip out their lower jaw, too.

They shiver, licking their teeth over and over again. Feral, animalistic delight rattles their whole body; they’re giddy at the taste of your blood, but they hold some restraint at the sound of their name.

Your breathing is frantic, and your heart is hammering in your throat. Jack’s breathing slows, and they quit licking their teeth. You’re not sure where to start. You hold your breath as Jack’s tar-filled sockets bore down into yours. Their breathing is heavy, and there’s saliva dribbling down their chin. You squeeze your arm, your skin clammy with blood and sweat, while Jack stays still above you.

Your mouth is nailed and twisted shut like you’re at the morgue. Jack doesn’t finch as they, strangely again, don’t tear you to shreds like the last guy. You sigh, which comes out as an exasperated laugh, your chest squirming like a bucket of mealworms as Jack’s warm, blood-soaked breath enters your nose. Their hair is long and matted, greasy and cool-brown in color; their skin is a deep gray like the living dead, bulked up by layers of stolen sweaters and pants to keep warm.

“I, uhh…” You start, “I brought you a sandwich if you want it. I didn't know what you liked, so I just put a little bit of ever—”

Jack’s knee presses into your ribcage as they climb over you, feeling around on the ground for your bag. A wheeze rattles from your throat, and they dump your belongings onto the forest floor unceremoniously, sniffing the contents like a tracker hound.

They pinch the bag between their claws, disemboweling the brown paper bag, the contents hitting the floor with a wet thud.

You watch them eat, tearing through plastic and paper with their teeth, eating with no sensibility nor dignity. The sandwich is shoved into their mouth and swallowed in about fifteen seconds, and a crushed bag of potato chips you forgot at the bottom of your bag perishes, too. They crack open the plastic container full of your dinner and hesitate, neck craned in your direction. It takes a few moments to find them, but Jack finds the metal utensils you packed for yourself, showing the container to you.

“Oh, well, yeah. That’s mine. My dinner, I mean. You can have it if you want.”

They shake their head in a fit.

They push it in your direction, a flatly affective expression on the remainder of their face, but their body language pushes your cold leftovers on you with a lot of force. You gingerly take the container from their claws, crack it open, and eat. Jack listens attentively to you, sockets trained on you, on the sound of metal utensils clinking against your mouth, the sound of you swallowing your meal. Their hands squirm and play with the dirt and leaves, excited to share a meal of leftovers with somebody they nearly killed twice. Your arm is throbbing as you carefully feed yourself, your jacket’s sleeve shredded. Hopefully, your emergency fund can cover a trip to the hospital for however many stitches you’ll need, as well as the antibiotics you’ll be taking (or paying for amputation if this gets infected, but you try not to think about that as this demonic forest creature is enraptured by you eating supper with them). You scrape the bottom of the container, not missing a single morsel.

They move their hand under their chin, and you recognize what Jack is doing. You took a few classes in uni, so you pick up on the ASL as soon as their hand collides with the other in a neat thank you.

“Oh! You’re welcome,” You say, “Was it good? I was worried if you liked mayo or not.”

They grin. It’s small, subtle, and hard to do with the tar seared to their skin, but there’s a quiet peek of teeth as they chuckle at being understood. They like mayo.

You laugh, too, exhausted and relieved. After so many restless nights worrying about getting your organs surgically removed in your sleep, you’re looking forward to a restful night after the day you’ve had. At the hospital, because you’re arm is looking pretty ugly.

“Look, I think I have to go.”

They tense up.

“I won’t tell anyone about you, I promise,” You sigh, trying not to look down at your bloody limb, “They’re still looking for you, though, so be careful. If you need food, I can try to sneak you some from Lost & Found.”

Jack pats at their pocket, pulling out an old, beat-up phone. They pass it to you, and you type out your number and put it into a contact.

“I’ll, hopefully, see you soon?”

They shrug. It’s probably for the best that they don’t make any promises. Jack walks into the treeline, eventually disappearing from view.

#can also be read as: domesticating the feral they/them at your job #mewrites #eyeless jack x you #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack #creepypasta eyeless jack #creepypasta fanfic #fanfiction #creepypasta #mecreepy #x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader

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sleepyconfusedpotato · 2 years ago

Note

Hello, Sleppy! There is one thing I have always wanted to know about Jade but did not dare ask. Tell me, please, what happened to Jade and Simon in the original CoD universe? I saw a sketch of crying Jade, was it her reaction to Simon's death or in your universe he managed to survive? P.S. - I am sorry if you do not like this question at all.

Okay so since I rarely post about the OG!MW2 anymore, I'm just gonna reveal the whole plot to you guys (ʘ ͜ʖ ʘ)

Be ready cuz this is kinda long - these are the canon divergence that I constructed in the events that my OC's are inserted into the OG!MW2 plot.

So, Jade was actually sent by the MI6 to track down what actually happened that made Russia attack US out of nowhere. Because that Zakhaev Airport massacre sounded and looked FISHY as HECK. Being the MI6 she was, Jade had to report regularly to her handler in MI6 (141 didn’t know this. It’s her personal gig). She met Soap Ghost and Roach there, but her first meeting with Ghost was bad and blab la blaaa SHE OPENED GHOST'S MASK. She also met Ellie (another OC I had for Gaz who’s a medical corps leader in 141. Gaz died in the OG!MW, she was still saddened but she’s very glad to have Jade in the base).

There’s also another OC that I have named Bara. He’s a lone Indonesian Denjaka sniper lieutenant that got sent by the country to capture an Indo defector among Makarov’s cause. Because of political reasons, he’s not a 141. Bara’s like an ally that pop out sometime somewhere like a spirit. 141 themselves were still very suspicious of him, but when Bara saved Meat and Royce in Rio, he gained their trust, and 141 would help him find the defector as Bara would help them on their missions.

Now, sometime in the middle, Jade was captured by Makarov and got tortured by him. Jade intentionally didn’t escape and held the pain in to gain some info herself from anyone inside the room or from Makarov himself. And that’s where the (How about you check who you surround yourself with) and Jade’s gears started turning inside her brain. She released herself and ran amok around Mak’s place, and found some data about “anonymous source” that said there’ s mole among Makarov’s group in the massacre (we know it is Joseph Allen) and she SENT THAT STRAIGHT to MI6. Ghost and the boys found the compound and rescued a badly injured Jade.

So like, along the story, Jade found bits and pieces, put two and two together, and by the end, Jade’s 90% sure that Shepherd’s onto something shitty.

NOW HERE’S THE CANON DIVERGENCE IN LOOSE ENDS MISSION.

As Jade, Roach, and Ghost went to Makarov’s base at the Georgian-Russian border, Jade actually took the time to read the posts, notes, and all the info that were sticked to the boards, tables, and walls. In fact, as Ghost and Roach was busy fighting off Makarov’s goons, Jade READ that shit (because at that point she didn’t trust Shepherd AT ALL).

And you guessed it, she found out that Shepherd is the mastermind behind every damn thing.

So when Roach transferred the data to the DSM, she did her magic and unbeknownst to everyone, she SENT ALL the proof to MI6 on the spot.

Jade then told Ghost and Roach about everything, and they did NOT trust Shepherd anymore. So when the general told them to go the fields, they declined and decided to hold the fort inside the house. Shepherd knew something was wrong, so when he kept pressing the three to get out of the house, but again, the three didn’t oblige, the general and the shadows decided to finally go to the house.

Shepherd and the Shadows cleared the whole area from enemies and tried to find Ghost, Roach, Jade,and the others in the house. One by one, the SC people got killed with stealth. Things led to another, and chaos ensued inside the house. Shepherd could’ve burnt down the house with the 141 in it, but Shepherd’s paranoid that Jade had done something, and he NEEDED that DSM.

Shootout happened, and Jade got one of the SC as a shield with a gun to his head. Shepherd told Jade to give him the DSM, and convo happened, Shepherd finally revealed his motives. And now he had to get rid of the three of them.

AND THEN, MI6 contacted Jade, saying that the proof about Shepherd’s doing had gone public. The whole thing was his doing all long, and now the world had turned all their forces towards finding Shepherd. Russia, US, now began their search on Shepherd! WOOHOO

Panicked, Shepherd yelled at SC as reinforcements came, along with Price and Soap who came straight fom Kazakhstan to the place, Meat and Royce (who survived Rio), Archer and Toad, everyone came to help.

CLIMAX ENSUED, and Ghost got shot twice protecting Jade from Shepherd’s bullets.

As Jade held Ghost on her arms, Price and Soap, with Nikolai’s help, chased Shepherd who’s desperately tried to escape and killed him. Minus the Soap getting stabbed.

Don’t worry, Ghost survived because ELLIE WILL NOT let him leave Jade like Gaz left her too fast. So Ghost survived WOOHOOO.

The Jade crying sketch was, indeed, a cry of relief as Ellie told her that Ghost was going to be fine (❁´◡`❁). She wore Ghost's jacket to comfort herself during the times Ghost was unconscious, and this sketch came out!

Everybody lives, no WW3, no MW3. This is REAL MOVIE ASS SHIT but it’s what’s in my mind!

I have the whole ass fic about the post-Loose Ends angst at the ready if y'all want it.

#if the demand is high I'll consider posting the post-Loose Ends fic #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw #cod #simon ghost riley #sleepy answers #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #ghost x jade #call of duty canon divergence #sleepy's thoughts #sleepy's OG!MW2 plot

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serenefreakgeekao3 · 2 years ago

Text

Chocolate and Pining

Jim Halpert x GN!Reader

PART ONE

[TABLE OF CONTENTS]

Check Table of Contents for entire fic summary and Key!

Summary: The cameras arrive and begin their rotation through the office. What will their shiny lens and intrusive questions uncover?

Warnings: canon-compliant cheating (if you count Pam flirting while engaged)

Author's Note: First post of the new rewrite, and Im kinda glad I only post two chapters of this previously because I went through and changed the entire thing from third person pov to first, to match along with the rest of the xReaders i’ve been writing.

[ ֎” ]

"Alright," You begin, your legs crossed while you tap one hand on your thigh. "What do I even say?" You huff a little laugh, shaking your head. You sat on an uncomfortable grey plastic chair, blinds slightly drawn behind you to block the view of the rest of the office working. You turn around and glance back, looking through the small opening available and noting three different cameras roaming the office and zooming in on people.

"What do we do here?" You repeat the question you're given, turning back toward your own interview camera. "Well, this is Dunder Mifflin, Scranton branch. We're a paper-pushing company." You stop for a moment before the producer behind the camera does a sort of wave as if urging you on. "Uh- well, I'm the receptionist here. I took the job almost a year ago. I transfer calls to the department they need to go to, write notes during our meetings- I'm basically Michael's secretary." You awkwardly laugh, glancing at the wall of the conference room shared with Michael's office as if he could hear through it. You wouldn’t doubt it if someone told you he stood there with his ear pressed to the wall.

"What's the most interesting thing about this job?" You furrow your brows in concern, uncrossing your legs and sitting forward. "Look, I don't know what you guys were expecting when you came here with a whole film crew, but we're a paper company. There's literally nothing interesting about working here."

[ ֎” ]

"What's interesting about working here?" Oscar asks, glancing through the blinds before leaning closer to the camera, waving his hand as he speaks quieter, "Now I'm not one to gossip, but the big thing going around is the office romance right now. And I'm not talking about Kelly and Ryan getting back together for the fifth time." He laughs shortly at his own joke before continuing. "See, Pam is engaged to Roy, he works here in the shipping warehouse downstairs. They've been together for years and they finally have a wedding date set for about a month or so from now.

"However, Jim has the biggest crush on her, everyone can tell. Before Y/N got here, Pam was the receptionist and Jim was always jumping up and going over to her to flirt constantly. Now, some believe the flirting is still going on while their desks are right next to each other, but I think it's gotten tamped down a bit since Pam scheduled a date for the wedding.

"And then there's Y/N. They started here when Pam was finally transferred to sales, and the position opened. They actually became quite close to both Pam and Jim pretty quickly, which makes some sense considering Dwight and Michael basically attacked them their first day here." —

[ ֎” ]

"Attacked Y/N? Please," Dwight scoffed, shaking his head, "I was merely preparing the new employee. If you’re not ready for a surprise stab from a ninja on your first day on the job, then I really don’t think you’re ready for work at all.” Dwight huffs out a breath, crossing his arms. “Besides, Jim made me use the dull blade.” He looks away from the camera in a strop, shrugging his shoulders. “If he hadn’t taken my sharp one I wouldn’t have had to pull out the dull one. I had to put extra force behind the attack for it to do anything, so really it’s Jim’s fault for the bruises.

“Michael? He couldn’t hurt a fly.” Dwight scoffs, then scoffs again for emphasis. “The fact that he tripped and fell that day means nothing, he was merely catching himself from falling with the closest available thing to grab. Which happened to be Y/N’s body, which he then happened to pull down with him. An honest mistake, that.”

[ ֎” ]

— "Now," Oscar continued where he left off with a smirk, "You'd think Jim flirting with Pam, and her egging it on while engaged, should be drama enough for you. But, then you have to figure into the equation that Y/N also likes Jim. I have a pretty good view of the receptionist area when Y/N sits in a certain spot, and I can hear whenever they talk to each other... Sometimes.

"Now I don't know if Jim realized he's a little flirty," Oscar wiggles his fingers with this, "But certainly not as much with them as with Pam. But- man, it's almost painful how hopeful Y/N's voice gets when they talk with Jim. Almost, but mostly just entertaining. And of course, none of the three know about this. It's basically the office soap opera at this point, and no one wants to say anything to disrupt the saga."

Oscar leans back, chuckling to himself before glancing at the camera, "Oh, almost everyone. Don't tell Dwight or Michael either, they're sure to give it away." He pats his leg for a second before smirking, "I'm team Pam. Now don’t look at me that way! I would love for Y/N and Jim to get together, but he’s just too obsessed with Pam! And that woman really needs to get herself a new man, that Roy is a real piece. of. work."

[ ֎” ]

"Team Pam or Y/N?" Phyllis asks, her smile soft as she raises a hand to cover a giggle, "Now I don't like drama, but absolutely team Y/N. Pam is engaged, it's inappropriate."

[ ֎” ]

"Team Pam, all the way." Meredith nods, smirking to the camera. "She was here first. Gotta be loyal to the branch."

[ ֎” ]

"Oh! Team Y/N!" Kelly squeals, wiggling her body in excitement.

[ ֎” ]

Jim sits in the seat, smoothing his pant legs down and sighing. "So, uh, what exactly do I say?" He places his chin in his hand, his fingers tapping restlessly against his bottom lip.

"Anything interesting?" Jim repeats, glancing out the window in the general direction of Pam and Y/N before looking back. "I mean, there's nothing really interesting about this job. Toner prices, how much each piece of paper weighs or costs-" Jim sighs, shaking his head and dropping his hand, "Honestly, the only reason I'm still here at this point is probably my friends. Pam, my desk-mate over there, we've been here for a while together. And then there's Y/N, the relatively new hire. Or, are they new?" Jim tilts his head to think about it, squinting his eyes toward the ceiling. "Has it almost been a year already?"

Jim shrugs, smirking before tapping his leg, "Oh, and also pranking Dwight. Gotta make your own fun here."

"What the- Jim!" Dwight suddenly yells, drawing half the office's attention. The other half continued blandly on with their work, used to their antics it would seem. Jim glances wearily over toward Dwight as he lugs something up from his bottom drawer, placing a plate with yellow jello and a stapler floating inside onto his desk. "What did you do?"

Jim struggles to hold back a laugh, his hand curled in front of his face and chin resting on his palm. Instead, he shrugs, leans back and crosses his arms while trying to maintain a poker face. "Nothing, Dwight. By the way, what happened to your stapler there?"

"You should know, you did it!" He sits there for a moment, glaring at Jim before bounding up, running and calling out, "Michael!"

You were half standing behind your reception desk to get a good look, sniggering to yourself about this prank- it was a good one. You look over to Jim and see him give Pam a high-five, mumbling something to each other before Jim looks in your direction and shoots you a full smile instead of the smirk he had been wearing. You smile back, sitting back down in your chair and scooting up closer to your computer.

The camera swings around closer to Jim, listening more in on their conversation. "How did you even do it?" Pam asks and snickers quietly before straightening up suddenly, grabbing her phone to press to her ear in an attempt to look as if she was doing her work as their boss exits his office.

"Let me see, let me see-" Michael finally lays eyes on the prank, laughing loudly. "Wow, just- wow!" He laughs some more, patting Jim on the back. "This is a creative one, good job Jimbo!" Dwight scoffs, moving to be in Michael's line of sight. Michael jumps slightly as if remembering he's the boss before clearing his throat and looking at Jim. "Oh, but don't do it again."

"Do what again?" Jim asks, playing dumb still and raising his eyebrows at Michael. Michael barks a laugh in return and pats his back again before wandering back into his office, mumbling about jello under his breath. Jim turns toward Dwight with a victorious grin while you stand, carrying your lunch box toward the kitchen. You tap Jim's shoulder twice in passing as if to say good job, and Jim barely has enough time to lift a hand to yours as you gently pull away to continue to your destination.

"Get it out," Dwight demands, standing near Jim and glaring at him.

"Get what out?"

"My stapler!"

"Well, it is your stapler, Dwight." Jim turns back toward his computer, chuckling under his breath.

"Oh, and how am I supposed to get it out?"

"I don't know, eat the jello?" Jim suggests, causing Dwight to scoff loudly as he plops in his chair.

"I can't just eat the jello, Jim. I wrote my name in whiteout on the stapler so everyone would know it's mine." Dwight pauses for a moment before narrowing his eyes. "Unless you knew that, and you'd assume I'd eat this. You're trying to poison me!" Jim sighs loudly, widening his eyes toward the camera before shaking his head.

"Ok, and with that, I'm going to take my lunch." He stands, turning to make his way toward the kitchen.

"If you need something to eat, I have a whole plate of jello right here for you Jim!"

Jim enters the kitchen, watching you press a few buttons on the microwave to heat your lunch. He dons a small private smile before sneaking closer behind you, reaching out and grabbing your sides while calling out a quick, "Boo!"

You jump heavily and yelp, turning around quickly with a hand pressed to your chest, panting out your breaths. "Fuckin- Halpert!" You yell out, smacking his arm before slumping against the counter behind you. Taking a few more breaths as Jim bends over laughing, you call out, "Unfair!"

"Oh? Unfair?" Jim replies, grinning toward you, "This is just payback for that email!"

"Hey, I sent that yesterday!"

"And I just opened it today." Jim grinned, not at all sorry, as you remember the jumpscare chain email you had forwarded to him, hoping to see his reaction.

"Well, that's unfortunate. I wanted to see you jump, I must've missed it." You pouted slightly and Jim's face did a small change, becoming softer and crinkling slightly at the eyes. You don’t seem to notice as you turn toward your food once the microwave beeps.

"Yeah, you were being harried by Michael, something about new shoes?" At which you groan loudly, holding up a finger with an eye roll.

"Don't even get me started on that." You thought back to that same morning when Michael came in with muddy shoes, whining about how he had just bought them even though you could’ve sworn you had seen Michael wearing them for the last half a year. How exactly did time pass in Michael's world, you wondered? And how had they gotten muddied? It wasn’t even raining outside!

"If you need to talk about it, I'm here," Jim said, sounding oddly sincere, but then continued quickly, "Although if the opposite is true I'm also very willing to go into detail about the newest book I just finished of my series."

"Oh? You mean your nerdy novels about swords and dragons?" You reply, raising your eyebrows and smirking at Jim as you stirred your lunch. “Aren’t you supposed to be a jock or something?”

"Don't pretend like you don't love the series, you listen to me ramble about it every week," Jim replied, never losing his smile and never looking away from you. His focus felt like fire on you, and there was nothing you could do to put it out. You weren’t even sure you wanted to. “And it is possible for someone to like sports and reading at the same time.”

"Hmm." You hum, pretending to think about it. It really wasn't a hard choice- while the stories sounded interesting enough by themselves, it was Jim telling them to you that made the whole week worth it. Listening to Jim become so passionate about something he found interesting was almost infectious, you practically waited for these days just to gain inspiration for your own writing. And if you happen to write fanfiction about the stories you've never actually read- well, Jim didn't need to know about that. "Alright, fine, if you insist. So what's new with Salamander and Patterson?"

"It's Sally and Parker," Jim began in disbelief, rolling his eyes fondly as you pick up your lunch, the both of you moving to the break room. You had known that, of course, but watching Jim try to explain for the seventh time why Sally is absolutely not a salamander and is, in fact, more like a snake than anything else just brings a smile to your face and a warm feeling to fill your chest.

You sat down at a chair, thankful for the empty break room as Jim wandered over to the vending machines. He put in some money and roughly pushed a few buttons, complaining all the while about his book characters. He ends up chuckling and shaking his head as he states that he needed to 'start from the beginning.'

A packet of double chocolate chip cookies lands in front of you, and you grin brightly while reaching for the gift. "My favourite, how did you know?" You look up to see Jim looking quickly away, not noticing the red starting to stain his cheeks and the tops of his ears.

"You eat it every week," Jim replies quietly as if that explains it, fetching his own lunch. "Anyway so then Parker-"

It was later in the day, and you sat bored at your desk, a word document pulled up on your computer that was half written with a personal story. Though you weren't actively typing it, instead spinning a pen in your hand as you stare in the direction of the sales associates.

"I honestly don't know what I'm looking for here," Jim speaks lowly, chuckling as he held Pam's hand in both of his, her palm facing upward. He looks up into her eyes as she giggles, shaking her head.

"No, look closer, here," Pam takes one of his hands, taking a finger and tracing a line on her palm as if this would help him read it, "This is the life line. Or- wait, maybe it's the heart line?" Pam giggles again, though misses Jim's almost yearning gaze as he holds her hand a little tighter.

"I don't know what either of those mean, Beesly," Jim replied, his voice low, and Pam finally looked up. Their eyes met and you finally had to look away, the pain in your chest becoming almost too much to bear.

And, almost as if on cue, Roy pushes in the door to the office, walking forward with his hand holding a leather jacket over his shoulder. You glance up quickly, about to start your usual introduction before realizing who it is and clearing your throat loudly, throwing a worried glance toward Jim. He glances over in time, thankfully, yanking his hands back as if burned when spotting Roy turning the corner. It seemed as though Roy hadn't noticed, smiling at his fiance as he approached before leaning down and kissing her forehead.

You watched the pained expression cross Jim's face for just a moment before he managed to school his features into a poker face. You felt for him, honestly. You knew how it felt when the person you liked, well, liked someone else. You just wanted him to be happy above all else, and you knew pining after Pam was not it. If only Pam wouldn't egg it on constantly, maybe he'd have a chance to get over her.

"Ready to go?"

"Yeah, let me just pack my things and print out one more file, I'll meet you down there," Pam replied to her fiance, smiling blindingly bright at him before they kiss once more. Roy turned around, passing the reception desk before grabbing a few pieces of candy that you kept out on the top of the desk. He popped one in his mouth before choking dramatically, turning around and coughing a few times before looking directly at you.

"M&Ms? Really? I liked it better when it was Skittles."

"I've never put out Skittles, I like chocolate."

"It doesn't matter what you like, it's for the guests, isn't it? Pam used to put out Skittles and no one complained." He tossed the remaining few pieces onto the floor beside him before walking out of the office. Pam ran up quickly, a worried look on her face.

"I'm so sorry, he must've had a bad day-"

"It's fine, Pam, really." You paste on a smile, annoyed not just at Roy but at Pam for earlier. Pam nodded slowly, her smile regretful as if knowing how you felt before turning around and pressing the last few clicks on her computer to shut it down. She gathered her things in silence, sliding her newly printed paper into a file on her desk. Meanwhile, you stared at your computer screen, not really reading what was there.

"Bye Jim. Bye Y/N, see you tomorrow!" Pam called out, and you replied with a little wave before pressing save on your word document, downloading it to your flash drive. The door to the office hadn't even closed before a new presence was at your desk, leaning over to try and spy on their computer. You looked up to see Jim smirking, looking directly into your eyes.

"Did you close that document just 'cause I came over? Hiding something from me, Y/L/N?" His teasing tone had you smiling against your better judgement, leaning back and crossing your arms.

"Well, I wouldn't want you discovering my master plan. It's a secret for a reason, you know." Jim laughed at your joke, leaning back and taking a handful of M&Ms to pop into his mouth. Watching this, you felt their face deflate just slightly before you hear Jim’s whispers.

"You know, I think I prefer the M&Ms over Skittles any day." He winks, then dumps more from his handful into his mouth, walking back to his desk to finish up his day. You once again couldn't help the small smile that adorned your face in response.

[ ֎” ]

"I've always had a thing for chocolate," You said, shrugging, "I'm the one who sits there all day anyway." You bite your lip for a moment, trying to suppress a smile. "Besides, who cares what Roy thinks? Other people in the office like them, that's all that matters."

[ ֎” ]

"What kind of person do I like?" Jim makes a baffled face, blinking a few times before resituating in his seat. "I don't know why that's relevant, but if I had to choose..." He trails off, his eyes taking on a far-off look, "Someone sweet, smart- someone who laughs at my jokes while also making me laugh. Someone who will help me with my pranks and listen to my ramblings." He looks back up to the camera with a small smile, "Someone with a sweet tooth that I could spoil."

"You coming, Y/L/N?" Jim calls out, the office dark. You're the last two in the building now, it seems, and you glance up from your desk where you're standing to smile at him.

"Oh, I just have a few more papers to print, you go on ahead."

"Don't work too hard, Y/L/N. The effort isn't worth it." You laugh in response, waving him off. You both exchange a quiet goodbye before you wander over to the copier, which was printing multiple copies of what looked like Dwight's face on the 'Scranton Strangler' wanted poster. The camera swings between the pages and back to you, where you only shrug and smirk.

"It'll be funny," Is your only excuse as you take the pages and start hanging them on the pillars of the building around the office, sliding an extra copy into Jim's desk as a memento.

#jim halpert x reader #jim halpert x you #jim halpert #the office us #the office #fanfiction #the office of chocolate and pining #michael scott #pam beesly #dwight schrute

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starshineandbooks · 6 months ago

Text

Bottom of the river (hold my hand) Chapter one

This is my ode to red vs. blue. This show has given me a lot. It's been something my dad liked to do something I liked. It's always going to be in my heart, and one day, I hope that I too, can be a gay robot.

As requested, here is your tag @the-team-sucks

Rating: T

Pairing: Grimmons, Tuckington, Docnut, oc x oc

Summary: Thanks to something Sarge has made in the future, the Sim troopers and their freelancers have to deal with their kids from the future. The kids are split up evenly between the Sim troopers, and the two chorus armies are hopeful about their new recruits.

Warnings: cursing, time travel, Canon divergent, time travel

Other: If I missed anything, please let me know. Not beta we die like Church.

Word count: 3,202

Masterpost

-------

Simmons dosen’t know what to make of the news Kimball wants to share. There has been no progress in retrieving their comrades from the enemy.

He has no clue what the news could even be to call for only him, Grif, Tucker, and Caboose. Are their teammates dead?

He hopes not.

Simmons arrives first, to the surprise of no one. He enters the meeting room and takes a seat. He can wait.

He's used to waiting.

Kimball comes in next, and her armor is polished more than usual. She must be worried about something.

Although in a war, who isn't?

"Simmons," Kimball says curtly.

"Ma'am."

"Where are the others?"

"I don't know."

"They're late."

As if on cue, Caboose comes in, dragging Grif. The blue-clad soilder towers over the man he drags.

Caboose lets go of the orange armored soilder once they're by the meeting table.

"Man, I don't wanna be here." Grif groans loudly as he flops down beside Simmons.

His head is thrown back as he stares at the ceiling for a moment.

"I'm ready to meet santa!" Caboose declares.

"It's too early for this shit." Grif groans lowly.

"It's three in the afternoon," Simmons says with a scandalized look.

"So?"

"Where's Tucker?" Kimbal sighs.

"Who knows. Let's just get this started." Grif flops onto the table.

"Yeah, party!" Caboose cheers.

"No, Caboose, no party." Kimball sighs.

Simmons glances around, trying to find clues for what's going on. He just needs to know. What if it's news that the others are dead?

He just-

Simmons just needs to be prepared for the fallout.

"Can we come out yet?" A voice calls from what might be a closet.

"No." Kimball calls sharply, sounding as if this is the umpteenth time she's answered this question.

"You can't keep us locked in a closet that's really homophobic!" Another voice calls. "Like what the fuck lady?!"

"Please stop yelling." Kimball sighs slowly.

There's some rude grumbling from the closet. And then there's a thud followed quickly by a groan.

"What is this about?" Simmons asks again, trying to keep any petulance from his voice.

"I'll tell you once Tucker arrives."

Grif just mutters something that's likely rude. His gaze lingers on the table.

Tucker comes in, "What's going on, Kimball?"

"Timetravel."

No one can see her face from behind her visor but the tone of voice is so serious you'd think she was announcing a death.

"Fucking what?" Tucker asks.

Because this has to be a joke. The universe loves to fuck with the Sim troopers!

"I hear them all I'm coming out!" Calls the second voice.

"Lani wait!" A third voice urges.

Out of the closet comes a teenage girl with dark shoulder length curls and plenty of attitude. She's got her arms crossed.

She stands out more than the attitude, though. She's dressed in casual clothing. Ripped jeans, a graphic t shirt. She looks - like a true civilian.

"Guys!" The teen- Lani calls behind her sharply.

"Stop yelling we're right here." A teen with long brown hair sighs. His height is almost intimidating, but his easy going nature helps.

He too is dressed in casual clothes. A Spiderman shirt screams his lack of military status.

"Yeah, chill out, Lani." Says the third voice as a dark skinned teen with close cropped hair emerges.

This one too is dressed casual, converse with shitty doodles and a teal plaid flannel.

Holy shit.

These three kids really might be from the future.

"Shut up." Lani snarks immediately, "I don't have to listen to you two."

"I'm older than you." The tall boy grins.

"You'll just go grey first."

"Someone explain what's going on here," Tucker urges, trying his level best to make sense of the teenz.

"Oh, hey dad!" The boy with close cropped hair waves.

"Did you just call Tucker dad?" Simmons gapes from inside his helmet.

"You don't have room to say jack shit papa." Lani levels evenly. Her gaze intense as she turns it to the cyborg.

Grif starts laughing. His body shakes as he looks between the three teenagers. This is too fucking good.

Next, the tall one will claim to be Caboose's kid! That would be really rich.

"Ha! Simmons, you have a kid!" Grif is laughing again

"You do too, dad." Lani levels her gaze to Grif, "Or did you think papa's pale ass had me all alone?"

Tucker gives a snort, "She's got you there, dude."

"Wait- he's your- and I-" Simmons is blushing so hard he short circuits.

"This is going well." The tall teen says.

"Let's start with introductions." Kimball says, "And maybe try not to short circuit captain Simmoms."

"I'll go first. I'm Zach James, my momma is Kitty Caboose-James. Caboose is my uncle. He helped raise me." The tall teen with the long brown hair says.

"I have a nephew!" Caboose gasps, "This is great news! I can be a ghost uncle!"

"Almost." Tucker says, patting Caboose's shoulder.

"How the fuck would he be a ghost uncle?" Grif asks Simmons under his breath.

"I don't know." The maroon soilder sighs, "ignore it."

"I'm Ben Tucker, I don’t know where the others ended up." The boy in plaid gives a half hearted shrug.

"Others?" Grif manages, sounding only the appropriate amount of strangled.

"You're my kid?" Tucker asks.

"Yeah." Ben shrugs. "And we're missing our other friends."

"I'm Lani Grif-Simmons." Lani gives a smirk, "I get my good looks from my auntie Kai."

"Oh fuck, Kai's an aunt?" Tucker asks, the realization follows a dawning horror.

"Go back. Who are the others that you're missing?" Simmons asks.

"Oh. Uh, Aspen, Cassie, and Violet."

"Who are they?" Tucker tilts his head.

"Cassie's my twin." Ben volunteers helpfully.

"Aspen is Carolina's kid. They're pretty chill." Zach shrugs.

"Violet is Doc and Donut's special little princess." Lani shrugs.

"Wait, Doc and Donut hooked up?" Simmons blinks.

"That makes the most sense out of everything." Tucker says. "I guess Wash didn't have kids."

"About that." Ben says.

"No." Tucker says quickly, "He had kids?!"

"Oh my fucking god." Lani groans, "I didn't believe dad when he told me about the dumb ass pining."

"I know." Zach pats her shoulder. He seems unbothered by this.

"Excuse me. There are more of you?" Kimball asks. She sounds annoyed.

"Probably ended up wherever the others are." Simmons speculates, "If you guys are here."

"So there are more captives of the enemy? That's not great." Kimball sighs. "We need to work harder."

"I wouldn't worry about that. Those army people don't have our friends, our friends have them." Ben grins.

"You don't think Vi's going to embrace the violent side, do you?" Lani asks, looking like she hopes the violent side is in fact embraced.

"Who knows." Zach sighs, shaking his head.

"So wait, hang the fuck on. We have kids, who time traveled, and some of those kids are being held captive? What the fuck man?" Grif sounds outraged. Because seriously, what the fuck did they do to the universe?!

"Come on, keep up man." Tucker shakes his head.

"My nephew is a space pirate!" Caboose declares.

"No, Uncle Mikey." Zach says evenly. "I'm a college student."

"How- old are you guys?" Simmons frowns.

"I'm nineteen." Zach shrugs.

"Seventeen." Lani says.

"Eighteen." Ben smiles.

Kimball clears her throat, "These three have generously agreed to help us fight-"

"Absolutely not." Tucker and Simmons snap in unison. Both sounding firm in their words.

"And who's going going to stop us?" Lani challenges. Her crossed arms and challenging gaze mark her as too much personality.

"I am your father, you are not fighting." Simmons says sharply.

"I'm fighting, and you can suck my dick."

"Lani." Zach chides.

"You are grounded!" Simmons snaps.

"You haven't even had me yet. What do you know about parenting?"

"I know I should let my kid fight a war!"

"I'm fighting, papa. And if you try to stop me I'll castrate you."

"Definitely your kid." Simmons says to Grif.

"I know, I'm so proud." Grif pretends to wipe away a tear.

"Yeah, you're not fighting Ben." Tucker crosses his arms.

"I am though. They have my sister that kind of takes precedence over listening."

"See? Ben gets it." Lani pats his shoulder.

"You're not fighting." Grif says, "Simmons is right."

"What the fuck ever." Lani rolls her eyes.

"We'll talk about this later." Tucker says, "all of you. But we have other things to focus on. Like, what are you doing here?"

"How the hell should we know? I was messing with something, and then we're on the floor." Lani throws her hands up in a 'what can you do?' sort of motion.

"Definitely, your kid." Tucker says, looking to Grif and Simmons.

"I know." Grif says, unfamiliar pride wlling in his chest.

"I know." Simmons says, very familiar dread wells up in his chest. What kind of baby could he raise? His own father was so awful... he hopes he isn't like his dad.

"Obvious genetics aside," Zach says, already used to the way the Sim troopers are, thanks to being raised around them. "We should really focus on what happens from here."

"Do we get to talk to our future selves?!" Caboose demands, "I want to know where I lost that Easter egg!"

"Caboose." Tucker says firmly.

"Can we maybe see where we're sleeping?" Zach suggests, "It's been a long day."

"Yes. Your rooms. I've put all three of you in one room."

"What?!" Simmons and Grif demand.

"Well, I don't want them in general population barracks, but they aren't high ranking enough for their own rooms."

"You put out daughter in a room with two boys?!" Grif demands, flashbacks of horror stories in his head.

"Dad, ew." Lani says with a look of pure disgust. "Ben and Zach are like my brothers."

"I know what teen boys are like." Grif scoffs.

"Hey, I promise I raised my kid better." Tucker defends.

"I'm going to fucking scream." Lani says sharply, looking like she very well might hold good on the threat.

"Please don't." Zach says, "Kimball can we go to our room?"

"Yes. Your room is three down from Tucker's."

"I'll show you!" Caboose declares.

"Thanks." Ben says.

"We'll all show you!" Simmons villunteers.

"Jesus fucking chrsit." Lani sets her face in her hands. She wonders what she has to do to get the others back as soon as possible.

"You're just upset that Cassie isn't here." Ben snickers.

"Shut up."

"You miss Cassie."

"I hate you."

Ben and Zach share a look. Neither is bothered. Honestly, they're both amused.

The Sim troopers leave the meeting room, guiding the teens down the halls and towards their room.

Lani trails after the others. Her arms don't uncross, and her gaze lingers everywhere.

When they arrive at the room, she immediately claims one of the top bunks. Sighting that she likes to feel tall.

Simmons leaves as soon as he's seen the room. He doesn't know how to father. What if he makes a mistake? What if he ruins a relationship he should have yet?

Grif just waves grumbling threats to the boy's before leaving.

Tucker pats Ben on the shoulder, "You find me if you need anything."

Caboose says something about going to find flowers for his new friends before leaving.

Ben takes the other top bunk, and Zach takes the bottom bunk under Ben.

Lani just curls herself up between Ben and Zach. She just wants to seek safety, and these two are safe.

Their parents don't know them they've volunteered to fight a war. And they're missing half their friend group.

And if she's honest, it's her fault they're here.

Lani should have known better than to mess with someone Sarge built. But here they are.

Zach rubs her back slowly, "We're right here, Lani. Right here."

"Yeah. I know."

"Should we sing?" Ben grins.

"Please don't." Lani laughs softly.

"You don't plan to act like a bitch the whole time, do you?" Zach tilts his head.

"Fuck you." She says, no bite present. And for all her bark, all her attitude, she is really just glad she's not alone.

"We're going to be okay," Zach says, sitting up slowly.

"Zee's right, you know," Ben agrees, stretching out on his side.

"Can I braid your hair, Zach?" Lani asks.

And Zach agrees. For two reasons.

The first reason is because he likes the feeling of someone's fingers in his hair, it soothes him.

The second reason is because braiding seems to bring Lani peace.

-------

Doyle stands before the Sim troopers and freelancer, trying to figure out how to explain the situation. After all, everything is very different.

"What do you know about time travel?" He asks.

"Not enough." Wash sighs slowly.

"Okay... well, uh- I have a surprise?"

"Go on!" Donut urges, "You have me on the edge!"

"Come in." Doyle calls over his shoulder.

The door opens, and three teens stroll in. The tallest has a red pixie cut. The shortest has dark skin and long locs. The middle height teen has bubblegum streaked curls.

"Oh my god." The shortest teen groans.

"These are your children. From the future." Doyle manages.

"What?!" Wash and Donut manage.

"I have no kids!" Sarge says quickly, he doubts he'd have kids later. He's already kind of old!

"We know, Sarge." Says the teen with streaked curls.

"Uh- hi?" The tall one waves, "I'm Aspen."

"Who's kid are you?" Wash asks.

"Carolina's."

"Oh."

"I'm Cassie Tucker." The short one explains, "Hey dad."

"Me?" Wash blinks.

"Yes, you." Cassie snorts, seemingly amused by her father's cluelessness.

"Oh."

"I'm Violet Dufranse! I'm Donut and Doc's kid."

"My baby!" Donut cries, sounding every bit the theater kid he probably was.

"Hi, Daddy!" Violet waves cheerily.

"This is all kinds of weird." Wash mutters.

"Oh chil, dad. Ben, Zach, and Lani aren't here. Wait- where are they?" Cassie turns her attention to Aspen quietly.

"Uh- probably with our other adults?"

"Wait, there's more of you?" Wash asks. Feeling genuine dread in his heart. Their other teammates had kids?

"Course there are, crafty aliens always have friends!" Sarge snaps.

"Yeah, there's more." Cassie rolls her eyes. "There's Lani Grif-Simmons, Zach, who's Caboose's nephew, and my brother Ben."

"Grif and Simmons have a kid?" Sarge asks.

"That makes a lot of sense!" Donut declares, "They spend so much time together."

"They had a nice wedding." Violet adds with a hum. "The pictures make it look beautiful."

"Pictures?!" Donut gasps loudly, "You have to show me!"

Violet is reaching for her phone, more than ready to show off the pictures. Unfortunately, Cassie just shakes her head, muttering something that makes Violet sighs.

"Guys." Aspen says, "We have to focus. Where are the others?"

"I don't know. But how much trouble can they get into?" Cassie asks.

"Are you serious?" Violet looks to the shortest with a look of confusion. "Lani and Ben are being let loose without any authority the respect."

"Whatever Vi, they have Zach with them. It won't be that bad."

"This is a nightmare." Apsen groans.

Washington looks between Sarge and Donut, wondering where Lopez is. But really, what could the robot do?

He's inclined to agree with Aspen. This has all the makings of a nightmare. He has twins. He has twins with Tucker.

Okay, the Tucker part isn't too bad.

Wash really doesn't mind Tucker. If he's going to be honest about his feelings, and he hates that, he's a little too fond of the aquamarine soilder.

"These young adults have graciously volunteered to help us fight the rebels so we can rescue your friends." Doyle says as he gestures to the time travel trio.

"No." Washington says firmly. "No way in hell."

There's a second of silence, while all three teens stare him down. But he's not budging on this one. He is not letting these three fight.

"Yes. I promise the rest of our group is going to fight. We're not letting them fight alone." Violet is shrugging, looking for all the world like she's just suggested tea.

"Aren't you anti violence?" Cassie frowns.

"I'm anti needless violence. If I can't talk my way out, I can fight."

"This is great and all, I'm happy to meet my new red rookie, but we aren't getting any fighting done like this!" Sarge crosses his arms.

"Can we talk about this later? It's been a long-. How long have we been awake?" Aspen looks around, trying to make sense of time.

"I don't know. I'm more worried about the look on Kai's face when we left." Cassie admits, "Here's hoping she ends up with Lani and not us."

"It's all going to be fine," Violet assures quickly.

"Yeah, you'll see. You're surrounded by big, strong men, we'll be right behind you, and you just tell us what you need." Donut chimes in quickly, sounding a little too excited.

"Thanks, dad!" Violet chimes happily.

"Okay, can someone show us where we'll be sleeping?" Aspen cuts in.

Doyle nods, mostly to himself. He needs to get this show on the road. He has a strategy meeting in ten minutes.

The genral straightens to his full height. "I've put you three in a room across from Washington and Donut."

"Thank you," Aspen says evenly.

Doyle just nods. "Woukd you guys show the new recruits to their room?"

"Absolutely!" Sarge is standing now. He's very fast.

There's some bickering, but after a minute, Sarge is leading the entire group minus Doyle through the halls.

They make it to the teens' new room, and Wash is kind enough to check the perimeter. He dosen’t know a lot about parenting, but he figures he should make sure there's no lurking enemies. That sounds like good parenting.

Aspen shows the Sim troopers and Washington off, claiming that they have it all covered.

And then Violet is trying to get reassurance that things are really going to be okay.

-------

In the future, the Sim troopers are staring at the charred device and floor with mounting horror. They just watched their kids disintegrate.

"Ah fuck." Tucker groans lowly.

Grif turns a glare to Tucker. His acusing presence should freeze over hell. "My daughter just disintegrated and all you have is 'ah fuck'?!"

"Okay now calm down gentlemen." Sarge reassures, "They ain't dead."

"Good." Doc says, looking like he might hyperventilate.

"It sure looks like they are!" Grif snaps, throwing his hand to the side, "But do tell. How do six teens survive being disintegrated?!"

"They're in the past numb nuts." Tucker says, pushing Grif's hand away from him.

"How do you know?!" Simmons demands, whirling on the retired blue.

"Uh guys, shouldn't someone go after them?" Kai asks.

Unfortunately, no one registers her words. She sighs, deciding to go pack a bag. If their parents can't get their shit together, Auntie Kai will just have to go help.

That sounds like a great plan.

Kai leaves, missing out on the part of the conversation where the others insult each other, oh, and remember that the time travel device sent them to a war.

If she had heard that, she wouldn't have packed so many condoms.

-------

Chapter two

#misty writes #red vs blue #red vs blue fic #rvb #red vs blue chorus #rvb chorus #dexter grif #dick simmons #lavernius tucker #michael j caboose #rvb sarge #franklin delano donut #rvb doc #agent washington #grimmons #tuckington #docnut #Bottom of the river (long way down)

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canonicallyobserving911 · 1 year ago

Text

Growing as Good Cop Parents

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

New Buddie Fanfic

“Growing as Good Cop Parents” - When Chris makes it home after hanging out with his friends, Buck smells and unmistakable scent and everything that happens afterwards, helps him and Eddie realize they’re growing as good cop parents.

8.8K Words; Rated: Teen and Up Audiences

This is part 2 in a new series titled "Good Cop vs. Bad Cop Parents". Part 1 is "Becoming the Bad Cop Parent" and it was posted on AO3 earlier this year.

___________

Here’s a snippet of Buck and Chris' conversation.

____________

“Uh… Chris, how was the arcade?”

“It was great.” Chris responds as he keeps looking at his notebook.

Buck tries again by asking Chris a question that requires him to use more than two or three words to answer.

“What did you guys do while you were there?”

“Nothing much... we played skee-ball and some of the driving games.”

He’s still waiting on Chris to look at him but since he hasn’t, Buck realizes he needs to be more direct. He wants to give Chris the opportunity to tell him what happened because he doesn’t want to assume anything and he wants Chris to understand he can always come talk to him.

He gently asks, “Chris, could you look at me please?”

Chris finally looks up and meets his eyes.

“Thank you. Now… before I say what I’m about to say, I want you to know that I’m not accusing you of anything because in this family we talk first. So, is there anything you’d like to talk about because… when you walked past me after Ms. Parker dropped you off, I—I thought I smelled cigarette smoke.” He maintains eye contact with Chris and asks, “Was someone at the arcade smoking cigarettes?”

_____________

Continue reading on AO3

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #christopher diaz #the buckley diaz family #buckley diaz family #911 on fox #911 fox #911onfox #911 on abc #911 abc #buddie fanfic #ao3 fanfic #Fanonwriter2023 on AO3 #Hiatus Reading #911 fanfic #911 #Dad!Eddie #Dad!Buck

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inposterumcumgaudio · 10 months ago

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nick lightbearer!

Sorry for the delay. Ever have computer problems? Happened to me.

Anyway, Nick Lightbearer. Nick's pretty well explored in the canon as well, but I got a few things in my pocket for him.

The bobby outside his house who tells you Nick is not seeing any visitors was originally supposed to let you in the front foyer. Inside that room is a viewing window that you could watch Nick be sad and pathetic through. Girls have scratched messages of possessive adoration on the glass. In a normal playthrough, you'd see the other side of this window with metal shutters over it when you meet Nick in the living room.

There's also a custom (possibly jailbroken, judging by the sparks?) Compliment Machine in there.

It has messages particular to visiting Nick.

"En - chan - té!"

"Do come in. Mr. Lightbearer has been expecting you."

"Do you have a warrant?"

"I am sorry, Mr. Lightbearer is indisposed. Please come back tomorrow."

"I assure you she has not been here, nor has she ever been here. Mr. Lightbearer doesn't even know your wife."

"Mr. Lightbearer apologizes for missing tea Sunday night, but he was very sick. He knows you cooked his favorite. Of course he still loves you, you are his mother."

"Mr. Lightbearer is not seeing anyone, except Miss Boyle. Are you Miss Boyle? No? Then go away."

"Mr. Lightbearer will be delighted to see you. This way to the living room, if you please."

"Please be gentle. Mr. Lightbearer has a bad back."

"Please leave it on the console. Mr. Lightbearer said to tell you that you are his favorite fan."

"Please leave the food on the kitchen table, you may keep the change."

"Please leave the wine on the coffee table, you may keep the change."

"You've arrived on a rather special night, it's one of the master's affairs."

Speaking of Miss Boyle, when Sally visits Nick's house in her playthrough, it's after Arthur has already visited and Nick has electrocuted himself in the tub. People make a lot of the fact that Sally hears him snoring in her playthrough, particularly given the context of Nick's DLC. But consider that Sally also thinks Col. Lawrence - man already on death's door and who definitely is dead when we visit the MacLears next in Ollie's act - is only unconscious too after using the pituitary extractor on him. Unlike Col. Lawrence (who Sally needs to think is only unconscious for her own peace of mind), I think Sally only assumes Nick is still alive because fully clothed and asleep in a full bathtub is not an out-of-the-ordinary way to find him to her experience. In fact, she even says beforehand that's how she expects to find him.

"He'd never part with it. On the other hand, he's passed out half the time I come by. I'll just sneak in while he's sleeping. Where did I leave the keycard he gave me?"

I do go out of my way to point out Sally's character flaws because people seem really struggle with the whole "three moderately terrible people" aspect of the game, but to her credit, I highly doubt she ever dated Nick. For one thing, she only dates men who can do something for her and while Nick is rich and famous, he can't really give her anything she couldn't get herself or from someone who'd be less work. For another, the most profitable relationship for her to have with him is as a drug dealer.

I also think that Nick was probably married for a lot of the last fifteen years. Not that that's a problem for Sally, but Nick is also said to consider himself a poet. Which suggests to me that this is a guy who would like to be a romanticized and idealized version of himself (which is part of why he gets married so frequently) but falls short of that because he is painfully human (which dovetails nicely with the whole Dante's Inferno theme of his DLC). And once you've failed to meet that ideal, why should you bother trying at all? So Nick gets married in the hopes that he can be the guy he sings about being in his songs (and maybe it's to girls who are just as deluded about how they can have this the fairytale other girls failed to achieve), acts like an asshole rockstar at the first opportunity with whatever girl offers, and then gets divorced. Rinse, repeat.

Petunia might have been the only one he actually loved because she's the only one of his ex-wives we ever see him thinking about. And maybe that makes a lot of sense. She seems practical and not given to the fantasy of him. Which, we don't know if that's how it started, but I have to think that since she's got 90% of his earnings, past, present, and future in the divorce (meaning none of his other exes collected first), she was level-headed and even-keeled throughout the relationship.

This is probably what also appeals to him about Virgil. Nick needs handlers, people to keep his shit together.

You know what though? A thing I find really compelling about the lore here is that Virgil is said to write all of Nick's songs. Nick was writing the Make Believes' songs himself before Virgil's management (when Nick is said to have "sold out") and those songs are... not so good, if testimony re: "The Unicorn Song" is anything to go by. Perfectly listenable and appeals to the doped-up masses, but perhaps drecky on closer inspection. The lyrics to the songs we have access to are quite clever and are subversive of the culture of Wellington Wells. So maybe Nick sold out, but the songs were better for it, too much sitar aside.

And it bears out too, with "I Have Seen Everything", a song that Nick presumably writes himself. It's a nice song, I like it, but the lyrics are repetitive and simple compared to "Dead of Winter" or "Out of the Blue". Kinda reads like an amateur poem. Rhyming "anything" with "not a thing"? Lyrical genius right there.

A thing I like to think about is that the art book tells us that Wellies value signage because they are so forgetful. Communication is mostly done through notes sent through pneumatic tubes rather than telephone conversations that could be quickly forgotten... When Wellies need or want to remember something, they dedicate that to record so they can refer back to it. And so, in the fact that his music's been so popular and pressed on vinyl, Nick Lightbearer and the Make Believes are going to be some of the few townspeople who will be remembered beyond the fall of Wellington Wells. And maybe that's kinda beautiful or maybe it speaks to the whole bread and circuses of it all.

#nick lightbearer #sally boyle #virgil dainty #petunia penny #we happy few

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lovediives · 1 month ago

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i always wanna hear oomfie, lay them on me

HELP MEEE.. THANK YOU OOMFIEEEE!! UHM. WHEN I SAY INSANE. I /GEN MEAN ACTUALLY INSANE. MURDERS AND SHIT LMFAO

before anyone has the chance. NO THEY ARE NOT YANDERES. they will never BE YANDERES. please do NOT call them yanderes. thank you <3 this is just the work on a mentally ill kid who dealt with a lot of violence and coped like this. okay disclaimer out of the way...

okay. so to give the tldr. this is edgy shit i had since like TEN YEARS OLD. will i ever change it!!!!!!! HELL FUCKING NO! i call them my erm, well, number ocs! cause they dont have names. theyre just numbered LOL

this is 1-5 in order. theyre my ltitle silly billy insane girls (SORRY FOR THE OLD ART </3 ILL REDRAW THEM PROPERLY AT ONE POITN IN MY LIFE.........)

theres also men but im ngl. im lazy and dont feel like it.

01, the one with the yellow eyes, is probably the most unhinged. kinda goes on insane killing sprees and then when shes done with them shes like "waahh why did u hit me :( i didnt do anything" (04 plucked her for killing people again or something)

02 acts like shes better so shes always like "g-g-guys! we shouldnt kill people" and then when some man (best boy lawrence) cheats on 01. she like. unironically tortures him for three days straight. funny.

old 02 and lawrence meeting for the first time <3

old relationship chart. basically theyre all kind of obsessed with each other. and they all hate each lawrence for being an outsider of their weird little polycule. lawrence kinda dont gaf because 01 is obsessed with him and theyre in love (sorta) here is some art of these little freaks. 01 x lawrence YOU WILL ALWAYS BE REAL AND CANON (because i said so)

imagine i have more art and stuff of them (i deleted everything one day. dont worry about that) this is just becoming about 01 - 02 - lawrence but honestly. i need to go back to compile everything properly into a google slides or something because the amount of lore and timelines all of them have would be too insane to explain in one ask. check this out too i suppose!

i forgot the most important part <3 01-05 were all experimented on when they were kids and now they cant ever properly die. so their understanding of death is so convoluted and confusing. they all have a hatred for those who were never stuck in the lab and that's why they kill people......!

#.asks #.jon #thank u oomfie. sorry this is insane. i toned it down as much as i could

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sugoi-writes · 7 months ago

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FUCK. I WROTE PART NINE AND HAD IT ALL READY TO GO AND THEN MY KID GOT HER HANDS ON MY PHONE AND CLOSED THE APP. THANK LUCIFER I HAD THE FIRST HALF SAVED AS A DRAFT BUT STILL. OTL sending this separate because I was paranoid she'd do it again and I would have to write the second part a third time 😭 also realizing I forgot to put my sig at the bottom of Pt.9

..... Annnnd of course, after pressing send I remember that I forgot to rewrite the part where reader chokes Alastor when they cum. just shoot me holy motherfucking shit

At some point I'mma just make these into a full blown PWP fic. It seems like they get longer with each installment 🤣 (I'm sorry btw, I always feel kinda bad whenever I leave long messages in anyone's inbox 😫

AYEEEE WELL YA KNOW WHAT THEY SAY - GREAT MINDS THINK ALIKE!! 😘❤️‍🔥

It's a fitting pet name Hunny Pun! You're the queen of puns and you're so so SO sweet like a Honey Bun! is that icing or Alastor's jizz on you??? ... im so sorry i'll see myself out again 😭 CAN'T FIND AND KISS ME IF I FIND AND KISS YOU FIRST BABES~! ❤️❤️❤️

I can't hold on to my anonymity anymore guys so I'mma be making Pt.10 my reveal post~ it's killing me that I can't leave rabid fangirl messages on your works like you all do here for me! I really did wanna wait until I got the Smutmus Holy Trinity complete or at least in the revision stages but just- GAH! I NEED YALL TO KNOW HOW AMAZING I THINK YOU ARE. Beautiful beautiful minds, inside and out i can't even-!

Seriously though, I can't even begin to express how grateful and happy I am to have met any of you! And there are no words in the English dictionary (or any at all really) that I could use to describe what I feel about how accepting and supportive you've been! I could NEVER thank yall enough for helping me to find the joy in writing again. I love all three of you so much and I'm honored to call you friends!! 🥺🥰💋

- ☄️❤️ Smut Santa

False Alarm for the Next Part!! And honestly, thank God, the vibe is still not charged HAH--

Oh no!!! I'm so sorry that happened to you!! I had a similar experience when writing my part 2 to my Nun! Alastor fic. Fun fact: had to re-write it 5 times because I kept forgetting to save it. ;;_;; hhhh my baby fever is so bad I'm crying, but man, KIDS! What a little stinker 🥹❤️

Also, my ask box is usually super empty? Like, you could LICK the floor with how neat and empty it is? I LOVE messages? Even better if they long like Alastor's girthy fucking co--

We--We were- when we??? ALASTOR GETS--??? MY HANDS AROUND HIS???

*Danny.Exe has experienced an Error*

*Rebooting*

OKAY IM BACK--

☄️❤️Anon... babycakes. At this rate I'm gonna do more than fucking kiss you. I think we're past that now. And if you keep calling me 'Hunny Pun', or similar pet names, I'm just gonna jump your bones--

Hug you!!!! I meant hug you!!!

It's Alastor's jizz. It's canon-- NO DONT LEAVE I NEED TO KNOW HOW I GOT IT ON MY FAAAAAAACE

GUYS CODE TREAT, CODE TREAT, THE ANON VEIL IS DROPPING!!! ITS DROPPING DHDHDJDHDJ-- You will never gain a mutual as fast as you will then I SWEAR

☄️❤️!!! Smut Santaaaaa! 🥹😭❤️ Your mind is a beautiful, smutty, enchanting place!!! Knowing that you've been religiously cranking this out, while also having a kiddo... Seriously, how do you do it??? If anyone deserves the praise rn, 🎵it's you??? It's you, ITS ALWAYS YOU!!🎵 ❤️❤️❤️

Don't push yourself too hard! Please? ❤️ I will treasure these rare, scrumptious little treats for as long as I have brain cells left ❤️ I will call you friend until you tell me to quit or I lose my voice for good. And even then, my lips will keep moving and repeating the same thing until I'm blue in the face. ❤️❤️❤️ you are such a sweet, sweet, soul, and I can feel your vibes, and they are so wholesome! I can't wait to meet the person or sexual fiend behind it all! I feel like I speak for us all, and not just the main 3, but EVERYONE: everyone who has read your posts love you to bits. And they love your work to bits. Best believe when you publish your first work, we'll be there. En masse. And we will be EAGERLY returning the love you surprised us with.

Thank you for all that you do. On this post in particular, you deserve a foot rub, a forehead kiss, and a hug that lifts and spins you off your feet! 💗💗💗

Have a blissful, best of days you can have, dear! You deserve it! 💗

#gah now im all mushy #i need to watch Howl's Moving Castle again #I NEED IT #☄️❤️ i said i love you like a million times let me know if that makes you uncomfy please? hahah;;;#MWUAH #☄️❤️anon #sweet post #smutmus #danny rambles #danny speaks

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endlesslystarlitskies · 2 years ago

Text

Lost and Found- Part 6

A/N: Okay, so I’m so excited for this that I am putting out two chapters in one day! I’ve got quite a few written out already so I thought why not! Hopefully you guys are still enjoying the story, and please let me know what you think!

By the way, I did give her an age. It’ll be the only characteristic I’ll give her but I had to so that there is no way to assume an inappropriate age gap, so I hope everyone is okay with that. Thank you!

Genre: Horror, action, adventure, Romance, Slow-Burn,

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Named Reader (Named but not Described)

Summary: Ella was one of the missing hikers who was kidnapped by the villagers. She narrowly escaped being sacrificed, but her friends weren’t so lucky. Managing to survive out in the woods with her previous skills and knowledge, she runs into Leon, and that meeting begins the longest, most dangerous adventure of her life as she tries to help him save the girl she saw being taken into the church. What will happen along the way? Only one way to find out.

Warnings: Canon typical violence and gore, Death, Murder, Monsters, Suicidal ideations mentioned, Ella has little regard for her own life and is dealing with the loss of someone closest to her while also fighting to survive with waning self-preservation instincts. Please be cautious if that triggers you. Her suicidal tendencies are also explicitly mentioned in this chapter, so please be aware of that!

Word Count: 5,065

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7

Story Masterlist

xXx

They had attempted to stealthily get by the villagers, but unfortunately one had walked through the gate just as they moved into sight, and now they were facing off against the horde, Ashley sticking behind them and avoiding the enemies around them as much as she could.

Ella had to switch to her shotgun so she could take out multiple enemies at a time, trying her best to keep her eye on Ashley as well as fight off the villagers.

“Get behind me!” Ella told her as Leon had been distracted by one of those swinging parasites and a horde was coming up on them. Ashley did as she was told, and Ella finished reloading her shotgun, before taking aim and hitting three of them at once with every shot. What the shotgun didn’t finish off, she took care of with her knife, like Leon had taught her. That took out the ones blocking her way, and she held out her hand for Ashley to take before she guided them down the path. Leon had said there was an extraction point to the North, so she knew where they needed to go.

“What about Leon?!” Ashley asked in a panic.

“Don’t worry, he’ll be right behind us! The best thing we can do is get out of his way!” She assured her, now using her handgun to take out the ones that chased after them or the few stragglers still coming up to the church in their path. They got to the edge of the graveyard, seemingly out of the worst of it, and Ella turned, watching as Leon threw a flash grenade, before using his shotgun to mow down the villagers surrounding him. Finally taking care of them, he was down to one, and he did his signature kick to the already injured villager, finishing him off.

Ella let out a breath of relief, as that had been intense and even though she had full confidence in Leon, she still worried about him.

“See? Nothing to worry about.” She shot Ashley a smile, who seemed relieved herself as she gave her a nod.

“You guys okay?” Leon asked as he made it to them, looking over them both for any visible injuries.

“I think so. Ashley?” Ella turned to her. She was mainly checking on her mental health, but Ashley seemed relatively okay. She was obviously shaken up, but other than that, she was holding it together just fine.

“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks.” She spoke to the both of them, giving them a smile.

“Don’t mention it. Like I said before, here to help.” Ella chuckled, before the three of them continued their way down the path. Ella looked to Leon when she felt his eyes on her, seeing the appreciative look in them, and she waved him off. She meant it when she said she wanted to help Ashley, and it was honestly the least she could do for them considering. xXx To Ella’s delight, they came across the purple flame, her expression lighting up as her pace quickened, making it under the little shelter beside the worship building from before to see the Merchant standing at the table. “Hello again strangers! I see you’ve added a new friend to the party!” The grin was obvious in his voice, and Ella smiled at him, looking at Ashley who was giving the man a suspicious look. “Don’t worry, he’s friendly.” Ella assured him, the blonde looking at Leon, who nodded in agreement, which helped Ashley relax more. With that, Leon and Ella freshened up their supplies, Ashley looking around the Merchants table curiously. “So where do you get all this stuff? And how do you get around?” Ella found herself chuckling lightly as Ashley started up the same questions Ella had asked. Ella and Leon stood back as Ashley talked to the Merchant, the man giving her the same answers he had given Ella when she asked. Unlike her, however, Ashley wasn’t letting it slide so easily. Ella smiled as she watched the scene, before her mind flashed back to what she had overheard between Leon and his contact. “Hey, you know I don’t expect you to ever put me above your mission, right?” She spoke in a low voice to where only Leon could hear her. “What?” Or maybe not. Well, when she looked at him, she could tell by his expression that the problem wasn’t that he hadn’t heard her. “I don’t expect you to put me above the mission, at any point. And I don’t want you to either.” She repeated more clearly. “Getting Ashley home comes first. I had always known that when I tagged along, even before I met her.” Seeing Ashley the first time- seeing how terrified and out of her element she was- had immediately reminded Ella of Alice. Add to that how young Ashley was, and all Ella wanted to do was make sure she got home safe. Her resolve to end this didn’t leave her, but the anger faded. As much as she wanted to get revenge for Alice, Ashley was still alive. Ashley needed to get home. There was nothing Ella could do for Alice except do for Ashley what she had been unable to do for her best friend. Ella wasn’t one for revenge anyway. “Hey, we’re all getting out of this, alright?” Ella snapped out of her thoughts, looking at Leon and noticing his hard gaze. She sighed. “Yeah sure.” She said dismissively, missing the way Leon’s frown deepened. “I’m not trying to argue with you Leon. I’m just saying that if it comes down to it, I won’t be upset that you prioritize Ashley, because she deserves to get back home.” Okay, maybe not her best wording. “And you don’t?” He shot back, and Ella could honestly pull her hair out as her frustration grew. “Oh my god, will you just-” “No, stop. Cut it out with this self-sacrificial, suicidal schtick you got going on, because I’m getting tired of it. If you wanted to die, then you wouldn’t have fought to survive in those woods for four days straight. You wouldn’t be here right now.” Ella had not expected that, her eyes widening in shock as she looked at him. “We will all make it out of here, got that?” He hadn’t raised his voice, but it held no room for argument. However, Ella was nothing if not hardheaded, and she felt defensive at him calling out her reckless behavior, anger rising in her throat. “Fuck you, Leon. You don’t know me! You have no idea what I’m going through, or what losing Alice did to me! I’m a grown woman, and if I want to die, then I’ll do that, whether you like it or not. So, take your heroic bullshit attitude, shove it up your ass, and focus on your damn job!” She growled, before turning and walking into the building, refusing to argue with him any longer. She hadn’t realized Ashley and the Merchant had caught on to their argument, but how could they not?

Ashley held a look of concern as she watched Ella walk off and disappear, before looking at Leon, whose jaw was tight with anger as he took a deep breath through his nose. He turned, noticing Ashley’s look. “Come on, we should get going.” He told her, clearly not wanting to talk about it Ashley was quiet a moment, before she nodded, saying goodbye to the Merchant and following Leon into the building. xXx Ella walked ahead of the two, the stiff posture she held showing she was still upset. Leon wasn’t looking any better, and the two were very obviously ignoring each other, and Ashley didn’t know what to do or say.

The tense quiet air was getting to her though, and she picked up her pace so she could walk alongside Ella.

“Hey.” She greeted cautiously, not wanting to upset the girl more. However, the frown Ella had been wearing softened as she looked at Ashley, which helped the young girl relax a bit.

“Hey, what’s up?” She hummed in a gentle voice, which was a contrast to the way she had been acting since leaving the merchant. Ella’s anger wasn’t with Ashley, and she wouldn’t take it out on her, or pull the poor girl into her problems.

“Can I ask you something kind of personal?” Ella paused, worried Ashley was going to ask her about what happened with Leon back there. She did not want to talk about it. If she did, she might realize how unfairly she treated him, and she wasn’t ready to accept that what he had said was the truth just yet.

“Um, sure. Shoot.” She supposed if Ashley had heard them, then it was only natural for her to worry and wonder what happened. The least she could do was offer some sort of explanation.

“Who’s Alice?” Ella had not been expecting that, however, her steps faltering lightly, though she was quick to mask her emotions. Not quick enough, apparently, as Ashley gave her an empathetic look.

Ella took a few moments, willing the tightness in her chest to dissipate as she contemplated whether or not she should answer. She looked over at Ashley, seeing the curiosity and concern in her brown eyes, before she sighed.

“She, uh, was my best friend. Practically my sister.” She started in a quiet voice, forcing the emotions down to a manageable intensity as she swallowed the lump in her throat. “We grew up together, went to college together, and then lived together in our own little apartment.” The memories of Alice flashed through her mind as she spoke, and surprisingly, the weight in her chest dissipated just a bit. “She was a mess, honestly.” She laughed softly. “An adventurous fun-loving daredevil. I was the stick in the mud that was always making sure she didn’t get into trouble.” Alice was almost two years younger than Ella, but she was very smart, and moved up a couple of grades in school. She had had a lot of pressure and responsibility put on her to be perfect at a young age, so when she was out of her home, she didn’t let anything hold her back from living her life for herself, which Ella had always admired about her, and supported.

As Ella thought about how excited Alice had been to go on this hiking trip, her heart dropped once more, her smile fading.

“She wanted to come on this hiking trip. . .we really didn’t have the money for it, but she desperately wanted a break from everything back home, and she loved nature. But then. . .we were taken-” Ella stopped when Ashley gently took her arm, looking at her in slight confusion.

“That’s okay.” Ashley told her with a shake of her head, not wanting Ella to get into that. “Just remember her from before. When you think of her, remember what made you smile just a second ago.” Ella’s felt as though the breath had been stolen from her lungs. She hadn’t realized that every time she thought of Alice, all she thought about was her lying on the stone altar, the fear permanently etched into her expression. It was only when Ashley asked about her, that Ella actually thought of Alice, her best friend, and not Alice, the sacrifice.

Ella allowed the emotions to well in her chest, thinking about her fondest memories with Alice for just a couple of moments as the weight lifted a little more.

Tears didn’t come to her eyes, and it didn’t feel like she was being suffocated by the memories. It felt. . .freeing. It wasn’t a cure to her depression and trauma by any means, but for now, Ella could remember Alice as she was before to help keep everything at bay.

How did a 19 or 20 year old help her regulate her trauma better than she could have? Ella came back to earth as she focused on Ashley, who was giving her a kind smile, and she felt herself return it.

“Okay, not bad kid.” She chuckled, pulling her into a side hug as they walked.

Ashley gave her a mock offended look, but returned the hug nonetheless.

“Kid?! I’m 20 years old! Aren’t you like 24?” She argued, and Ella laughed.

“25, and trust me, when you’re my age, anyone over 2 or 3 years younger than you are practically toddlers.” She grinned, and Ashley scoffed, rolling her eyes, but there was a smile tugging at the edges of her lips.

“Whatever.” She jokingly pushed her off, making Ella laugh, Ashley joining her after a few moments.

It was a nice break from the terrifying and dangerous situation they were in.

Ashley had looked back to Leon, realizing he had probably been listening in when she saw him watching them with the tiniest smile. xXx Of course their break couldn’t last forever, and soon they were running into a cabin where the man from the factory was ushering them in for shelter against the horde of villagers coming after them, Leon closing and locking the gate to buy them some time. Getting inside, the three were panting lightly as they tried to catch their breaths, though Leon turned a glare on the man.

“You.” His tone was almost accusatory, and the man began to back up as Leon moved towards him.

“Hey! Listen, about earlier. . .” He tried, attempting to diffuse the situation, but Leon wasn’t having it.

“Yeah, about that.” Ella had no idea what happened between them in the factory, but whatever it was had Leon pissed as he backed the man into the wall, pressing a fist to his chest and holding him there. “Hey, I see you found your missing Senorita!” His voice was cheery and positive, but Ashley just glared at him, the words having the opposite effect of what he had wanted. “The “senorita” has a name, and it’s Ashley.” She pointed out, the brunette haired man looking at Ella with raised brows. “See, she gave me her name.” Ella rolled her eyes at that, though she did find it a little funny that he was referencing that at a time like this, and she had to hold back the amused smile. The man must have seen that as he opened his mouth to comment, but Leon pressed his fist harder against his chest, making him wince and cutting off whatever he was going to say. “And you are?” Ashley brought the focus back. Ella was curious about that too, their previous meeting being very brief. Who was he, and what was he doing on here? He wasn’t dressed like a villager, but he was Spanish, so it could go either way she supposed. “Names Luis. Encantado.” He smirked, giving a small nod of greeting and shooting Ella a wink. Ella scoffed lightly, but this time she couldn’t hide her amusement. She thought he was funny, and even charming, his attitude helping bring a lighter atmosphere. It was a nice change from Leon’s attitude, and she wished they could bring Luis with them.

“Great. We all have names, now then-” “Well not all of us.” Luis spoke matter-of-factly, once again looking at Ella, but Leon didn’t let him change the subject, somehow seeming more annoyed than before. “Who are you? And what are you doing here?” He demanded, but it was clear Luis had no intention of answering him. “Very good questions. Unfortunately-” He gestured to the window, and the three looked out to see the torches getting closer.

“Hide, now!” Leon told Ashley, giving Ella a look that Ella knew was him asking her to go with her and make sure she was safe. Ella nodded, taking Ashley’s hand and pulling her up the stairs. Pissed at him or not, she wouldn’t let it get in the way of her goal of saving Ashely, and she knew Leon wouldn’t let it either. Getting to the top floor, Ella found a spot right outside the window, there being a cabinet Ashley could easily fit inside, and she helped Ashley into it, making sure the doors closed properly. They could hear the gunshots and fighting downstairs, and Ella tried to move quickly so she could go and help too. She wouldn’t stray too far from where Ashley would be hiding, but she could be helpful to the two downstairs as well. Once Ashley was well hidden, she moved to the stairs, taking in the mess that was going on below. Pulling out her gun, she shot a villager who was coming up behind a distracted Leon, who looked behind him, and then to her, giving her a quick nod of thanks before he focused back on the villagers already inside the house. Ella took care of the window in front of the stairs, doing her best to keep the ones outside it from getting inside. However, no matter how many of them they took down, they just kept coming. “Let’s go upstairs, come on!” Luis shouted, and Ella backed up that way as Leon and Luis ran over. Getting further onto the top floor, she was surprised to see another villager already up there, before quickly realizing they must have found a way to get to the second story window, letting out a curse. Ella tried to stay by the window Ashley was behind as much as she could, but the massive wave of villagers made that very difficult. Fortunately, she didn’t think they knew where she was, so at least there was that. The three had been distracted by the villagers coming through the windows, none of them noticing the large boar man with a hammer stomping up the stairs. That was until Ella caught a glimpse of the hammer swinging towards Luis’ head in her peripheral, and she gasped, reacting as quickly as she could as she tackled the Spanish man to the ground, both barely dodging the weapon. Leon moved quickly, firing three shots to the thing’s head and taking care of him quickly. Ella looked at Luis to make sure he was okay, only to find that he was smirking at her, his eyes shining with gratitude. “Okay, now you have to tell me your name.” Luis had been firing off quips left and right this whole time, and Ella didn’t know how he did it. She knew she also quipped and joked as much as she could, but Luis was on a whole other level. “Now’s really not the time.” She pointed out despite the grin pulling at her lips, the disbelief and amusement apparent in her tone as she got to her feet, taking care of a villager who was coming up on their right while Luis stood up himself. “All I heard is that you will tell me eventually.” She had no idea how this guy could flirt during a time like this, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t enjoying having him around. She was usually the one joking and trying to keep the gloomy atmosphere and fear of the situation from getting to them, and it was nice to share the load. “If you two are done, there’s more coming.” Leon snapped as he pulled the knife out of the now dead man’s chest, and Ella rolled her eyes, but didn’t respond as she focused on the four villagers coming up the stairs. It was maybe three minutes of fighting off the seemingly never ending influx of infected when Ashley came through the door, offering them a way out. “You guys, this way! Hurry!” She shouted, the three of them looking to her and not wasting another second as they followed her out the door and over the wooden platform. It was just in time too, as numerous villagers came through the windows and up the stairs.

Ella couldn’t help but wonder how many people this village even had, as it didn’t matter how many they took out-There were plenty more to replace them

Fortunately, they passed a gate, and Leon turned, shooting the mechanism holding it open just as a villager almost passed through, the spikes slamming down onto his head and crushing it.

Ella winced as blood and brain matter splattered across the wood, having to look away even after everything they had seen this far. The group took a minute to catch their breaths, Ella leaning against the wood and resting her head back for a few moments.

Coughing broke through the silence, however, and Ella turned to watch as Ashley spit up blood into her hand. Ella was immediately reminded of Leon out on the lake, and she knew this was a result of the infection.

“Ashley-” Leon stepped forward; his expression full of concern that mirrored Ella’s. “Wh-What’s happening to me?” The fear in Ashley’s voice broke Ella’s heart, and before she could answer, Luis stepped forward. “Ashley,” He took her hand. “Is this the first time you coughed up blood like this?” He asked her, the way he said the words making it clear he knew about the parasites and the infection. Maybe even more than Ella or Leon, though it wasn’t hard to know more than them on this subject. Anything he could add would be helpful. “Do you want to start explaining?” Leon gave him a hard look, and Luis took a step back. Ella wondered why Leon clearly had something against Luis. She had seen it back in the house, it being behind his eyes when he looked at him. “The cough- the blood- it’s caused by something called a...”plaga”.” The three looked at each other, before back at Luis expectantly waiting for him to continue. It was nice to have a name for the parasite, though that didn’t give them much more information.

“Ok. You saw those “people”, right? Well, you have the same thing inside you. The same thing that made them like that.” That much was a given. “This, what you’re experiencing, these symptoms- they’re only the beginning.” He sighed as he turned, Ashley looking fearfully at Ella.

“I don’t want to become like them.” Ella put a hand to her shoulder, trying to comfort her though there wasn’t much she could do or say. They had no idea how to get rid of the parasites. They didn’t even know where they were in the body. “You are, well, lucky.” Luis started, Ella looking at him with furrowed brows. How could any of this be lucky? “You see, at this early stage, the parasite, the “plaga”, It is possible to remove it. . .With a surgical procedure.” Ella’s brief moment of hope dissipated. How were they supposed to perform a surgical procedure in a place like this?! “And all you need is some knowhow.” She sighed. She had no idea how they would learn how to perform a surgical procedure in the current situation they were in. “And oh yeah-” He turned, pulling the buttons of his shirt apart and revealing a scar on his chest. “The right equipment.” Ella quickly realized he had been infected too, and that did bring a bit of hope back. They knew the procedure worked, and they had someone who knew how to do it. “Wait, you too?” Leon asked, coming to the same conclusion Ella had. “No worries. See, I have a plan.” He started walking away from them, and Ella almost opened her mouth to ask where he was going, but he continued before she could. “But you’re going to have to trust me.” It was a simple request, but Ella wasn’t so sure it would be that easy. She didn’t know why, but she felt as though Luis had an ulterior motive.

Then again, didn’t everyone? She and Leon shared a look, Ella and Ashley both shrugging. They didn’t really have a choice if they wanted to remove the parasites. Leon looked back at Luis, before nodding, and the shaggy haired man smiled, happy with that answer. “Great, we’re partners then!” He said happily as he began walking away. Ella wished he would travel with them, but Luis was clearly intent on going on his own. Ella knew that it probably meant he didn’t want them knowing something else, but the fact didn’t change anything, so she kept it to herself.

“Wait, why are you-”

“No time for any questions, the clock is ticking.” He waved off, clearly avoiding something, but Leon didn’t let him. “Why are you helping us?” He demanded, and that made Luis stop for a moment as he contemplated his answer. It was a good question. People didn’t usually help out of the goodness of their hearts, unfortunately. Even so, however, Ella doubted they wouldn’t get a straight answer from him.

“Because it makes me feel better. Let’s leave it at that.” That would be the best answer they would get. “I will contact you later.” He held up a walkie, before disappearing behind the rocks. Ella was quiet a moment as she went over their interactions in her mind, trying to decide whether or not trusting him would be a mistake.

She didn’t think it would be. xXx

“What do you mean the helicopter can’t make it?” Ella sighed, wondering why nothing could ever go right in this place. “The weather’s too bad. We’ll have to wait it out.” Leon answered, and she could hear the disappointment and annoyance in his voice as well, letting it go since she knew there was no thing that could be done about it. “Figures.” She murmured, cursing their bad luck. They walked the trail ahead, and Ella looked up to the sky, wondering if she could wish the bad weather away if she tried hard enough. “What’s. . .What’s going to happen to me.” Ella was brought from her thoughts as she looked at Ashley, frowning lightly and opening her mouth to offer some words of comfort. “Right now, let’s just focus on getting out of here.” Leon spoke first, and Ella wanted to throw something at him. She didn’t understand how he could have such little awareness. She knew he wasn’t emotionally available, but he could at least try and be a little more comforting to Ashley. “Yeah. . .right.” Ashley murmured, and Ella gently put her hand on her arm comfortingly, hoping to quell her fears at least for a little while. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. We’ll figure it out, I promise.” Ella knew better than to promise things she didn’t know if she could deliver, but at the same time, she was determined to do whatever she could to make sure Ashley made it out of this. And comforting wasn’t always about being honest, anyway. Ashley gave her a small but appreciative smile, before nodding lightly. Ella wished she could do more, but that would have to do.

Soon, they were greeted by the purple flame, and Ella really needed to remember to thank the Merchant for always being there when they needed him. After doing their usual sales, they reloaded their weapons and found the proper places for the ammo as Ashley stood by the Merchant’s table. “They’ve still not made up eh?” The Merchant murmured to the girl, gesturing to how Ella and Leon were a few feet apart and intently focused on their weapons. Ashley shrugged. “I don’t know, honestly. They’re weird. They are. . .amicable I guess, but neither one of them wants to just get over themselves. It makes for tense walks, that’s for sure.” She sighed, and the Merchant laughed. “Ah give ‘em a minute. They’ll be back to bantering in no time.” He sounded sure of it, so Ashley could do nothing but hope he was right. She hadn’t really gotten much of a chance to see them not mad at each other after all. xXx

When they found a note that mentioned an impregnable fortress, Ella knew they were in for a headache, and she seriously considered going back to the Merchant and falling asleep in the little shelter. She didn’t know why, but no villager ever seemed to wander into his areas. It was strange, but maybe it was just a coincidence. Either way, she was sure it’d be safe. Unfortunately, they must move forward. Even though they now had no set destination and were only just looking for a safe place to wait for extraction. Ella would have brought this up to Leon if she thought it would get her anywhere. And if she was in the mood to talk to him, which she wasn’t. She knew her stubbornness was a flaw of hers, but it was more than that.

Apologizing to Leon meant admitting she was wrong, and he was right. And him being right meant fully coming to terms with what had happened, and what it all meant for her life. It was a journey of self discovery she wasn’t quite ready for, so she kept her mouth shut and left the tense atmosphere in place. Leon didn’t seem too keen on dissipating it either, after all.

Getting to the first section of the impregnable fortress, the three did their best to stealthily get by, but the villagers were vigilant, and it wasn’t long before they were shooting and stabbing their way out. Ella couldn’t complain too much, because at this point, at least it was familiar territory. The second section wasn’t too bad, except at one point Leon and Ella both could have sworn they saw the glint of a gold necklace, but it was for a split second, the two forced to focus on the villagers in front of them.

Afterwards, with it nowhere in sight, the two convinced themselves they must have imagined it, neither bringing it up.

Getting to what was hopefully the last section, they came across a gate that was missing a lever, and they were made to look around and search for it. Fortunately, and for some strange reason, there weren’t many villagers around, but Leon had to go and mention how quiet it was, Ella almost strangling him right then and there.

It was as if being a cliche video game character was ingrained into his very being, and no matter how many times Ella pointed it out and was proven right, he just couldn’t help himself but foreshadow the impending headache they were sure to face.

Despite her annoyance with his habit, she didn’t say anything, instead seething silently behind him before just letting it go and praying that for once, she was wrong.

Entering one of the larger wooden buildings, Ella let Ashley and Leon jump down first as usual, preparing to follow behind them. However, before she could, arms grabbed at her from behind, effectively immobilizing her, and she couldn’t even make a sound before her vision went black.

#Leon Kennedy x reader #Leon Kennedy x OC #Leon Kennedy #Leon Kennedy Fanfiction #Leon S. Kennedy #Resident Evil #Resident Evil 4 #Resident Evil 4 Remake #Lost and Found

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silverwings22 · 6 months ago

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Song of the Sea: Chapter 39: Something to Believe In

Series Warning: explicit smut, alien anatomy (it's a monsterfucker fic, guys), major character injury, grief, canon typical violence, autistic meltdowns, and my terrible attempts at Mando'a Chapter Warnings: suicidal ideation, disability, violence, reference to death. grief, guilt, mind control

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The longer she looked at the data, the less sense it made. There was a base on Setron. Hemlock moved his research subjects somewhere and torched it. There was a new base, called Mount Tantiss, but she couldn’t figure out any clue to where it was.

Is that the place the tracker would have led us too, if Saw Guerera hadn’t interfered?

Shiani hated Saw Guerrera with her entire being, every inch of sucker and skin prickling with the urge to sink her teeth directly into his throat. She’d begged him to wait, to share information, to coordinate for a bigger target than the summit. But no, he wouldn’t listen and now Tech was dead and Omega was missing. If he’d just shut up for one day, none of this would have happened. He was just like Kashae, so sure he was right, so stubborn and self-important that he couldn’t listen to her when she was right-

Beep.

The ship’s comm beeped with a prerecorded message, startling her out of her quiet fury. She unclenched her fist, flexing her fingers quietly. It was unusual to get a prerecord, since Rex and Echo always commed live. Other than them, the only person who talked to them was Phee…

“Havoc 5 to Havoc 1 and Havoc 3.”

Shiani almost stopped breathing at the sound of Omega’s voice. It was distorted slightly, run through encryptions just the way Tech had taught them, but there was no mistaking it. Shiani paused the recording immediately. “Hunter! Wrecker! Come here!”

Both clones had been looking at copies of the same data she was, and came running into the cockpit. “What’s wrong?!” Hunter gasped.

She turned the recording back on. “This just came in. It’s Baby Mega! Listen!”

“Havoc 5 to Havoc 1 and Havoc 3. I need a pickup. Please meet me in the same place I made a friend, when she said flying was a feeling. You remember, don’t you? I can’t explain more, I’m in a stolen Imperial ship and I can’t risk getting caught. We’ll be there in about eight standard hours. The ship I’m in has a tracker, so if you could beat me there… That’d be good. I’ll see you soon.”

Wrecker let out a half-sobbed breath. “She’s alright…”

“She’s talking about the moon of Ryloth, where we did the weapons drop with Gobi Glie.” Hunter barely whispered. “It’s where she met Hera. How long will it take to get there?”

“Six hours.” Shiani flipped dials, dropping them out of hyperspace so she could change their direction. There was no hesitation, despite all three of them knowing it could be a trap. It didn’t matter, when their entire reasons for living circled around finding Omega.

Hunter sank into the co-pilot’s seat and Wrecker went to fix up Omega’s room, re-hanging her string lights and fluffing pillows that had been accidentally trampled during the not-infrequent firefights they got into. “You really think it’s her?” Hunter whispered. “I need it to be her. I need her to be there… I don’t know what I’ll do if it’s not her.”

A tentacle wrapped around his wrist, silent solidarity of his anxiety. She let him hold it as she held the controls, fingers gripping so tight her knuckles turned white. It was Omega. It had to be Omega…

She had to come home.

Wrecker had gone outside first, to wait by the ramp for the Imperial ship. Hunter both wanted to stand with him and was scared to death of the disappointment that would come if they were wrong. If it wasn’t Omega that stepped out.

Shiani was still letting him hold her tentacle, hands folded in her lap to hide the way they shook with nerves. “It’s her, Hunter.” She finally said. “I’m sure of it. She used Tech’s encryption method, referenced this place, used the call signs…”

“She didn’t use yours.” He frowned, overthinking so hard she swore his head was going to explode out from under his bandana.

“She doesn’t know I’m alive, Hunter. She saw me fall.” The siren shook her head. “It's her.”

“What if they hurt her?” Hunter gritted his teeth.

“Then we’ll fix her up. You fixed me up.” She sighed, ear fins wiggling at the same time he lifted his head. They both heard another ship landing. “Sounds like a bigger ship.”

“Cargo freighter. They do come with tracking beacons… so that part was true.” He nodded.

“It amazes me that you can know that. No matter how many times Tech explained your senses, I never quite think I understand.” She tried to distract him for a few minutes, waiting for a signal from Wrecker. Hunter squeezed her tentacle again, ears straining the same way hers were.

“Omega!” Wrecker yelled, and Hunter’s entire body stiffened like he’d been electrocuted. He started to try to help Shiani up, telling himself they could go to the girl together and everything would be okay, but she waved him off. “Go. I’ll catch up.”

She knew how much this meant to him, and she’d slow him down. Hunter gave her hand a grateful squeeze before practically bolting to the ramp and taking the stairs down two at a time.

Shiani pushed herself up and limped her way to the hatch slowly, leaning on her cane for now. Sometimes she could manage without it, especially around the ship, but other days two steps was too much. Today was one of those days, though she chalked it up to how fragile her emotions were at the prospect of finally finding Omega.

It had been her only reason to get up in the morning. Making sure her beloved baby best friend was rescued, after all she’d lost, had been what she needed to not curl up on herself and fade into nothing. She had no idea what she would do now that the goal was accomplished, but she’d figure it out once she had her arms around Omega and confirmed the blonde clone was safe. She made it to the hatch, looking out. Wrecker was grinning and wiping tears, facing the ship, and Hunter was down on his knees with his arms wrapped around Omega. “We crossed the galaxy four times looking for you.”

“Five.” Shiani called with a smile, getting Omega’s attention. The girl’s hair had grown and she was taller, but the big golden eyes flickered open with Shiani’s silhouette blocked the light from the Marauder. She sucked in a sharp gasp when she saw the siren, straightening up from Hunter’s embrace.

“Sh-shiani?”

The siren smiled, limping her way down the steps as quickly as she could with her arms open. “Omega.”

“Shiani!” Omega skirted Hunter, who smiled and wiped his own face as subtly as he could, and ran to the siren just as she made it to the bottom step. She tackled into Shiani, who landed backwards on her ass in the dirt as she hugged the girl tightly. “You’re alive! I thought you were gone forever!”

Shiani put her head on top of the blonde one and rocked her back and forth. “Too stubborn to die, I guess.” She breathed, before leaning back to cup the girl's face with her cane still hanging off her left wrist. Deft claws swiped the tears off her cheeks. “Baby Mega isn’t a baby anymore.”

Omega wrapped her hands around Shiani’s wrists. “If you survived, does that mean Tech…”

Shiani shook her head, wincing. “No… just me.”

Omega’s voice went quiet, eyes dropping so she got a good look at Shiani’s brace and cane. “You’re hurt… let’s go back to Pabu, we can fix it up…”

“This is fixed. I’m just… like this now.” The siren shook her head.

Hunter walked over and offered Omega a hand, while Wrecker righted the toppled siren. The sergeant put a hand on Omega’s shoulder once she was upright, and crouched beside her. “How did you escape?”

“I had help.” She nodded back towards the Imperial cargo ship she’d come off of. Standing on the ramp was a tall figure, slowly walking down the steps. For a split second, Shiani’s hearts started hammering at the silhouette of a sharp-featured clone, but as she stepped out of the bright light it wasn’t Tech’s face that appeared to her.

“Crosshair.” She breathed.

Hunter stood upright, tension in the air so thick Shiani could taste it. Wrecker was solidly behind his oldest brother, eyes narrowing. Omega glanced nervously at them before looking back at Crosshair. “He helped me escape. We got out together.”

Shiani nodded first. “That model of cargo ship has a tracking beacon. Let’s get going.” She gestured for Omega to get in the ship, startled when a fully grown lurca hound came rushing past her to lick Omega’s face. “... We have a hound now?”

“Her name is Batcher.” Omega said proudly.

“Well, Batcher can stay in your room. Three brothers again take up lots of space.” Shiani gently urged Omega towards the ramp.

“Who says we’re taking Crosshair with us?” Hunter huffed. He didn’t really intend to leave his brother behind, but he couldn’t stop thinking about how the last time he’d seen Crosshair. On Kamino, as it sank, making Hunter question his very existence and position as leader. He’d had more sleepless nights over Crosshair’s words than he cared to admit.

Shiani cut her eyes at him. “I did.”

“You’re a civilian.” Hunter raised an eyebrow.

“It’s my ship.” She turned around and started up the ramp. “Crosshair, you can sit in the cockpit with me.”

“Your ship?” Hunter followed her up, frowning.

“It was Tech’s ship. Now it’s my ship. Now go sit down somewhere.” She limped her way to the cockpit, ignoring anything else he said. Behind her, a very quiet sniper hesitantly followed and parked himself in the co-pilot’s seat. Omega distracted Hunter and the hound was getting belly rubs from Wrecker, so she closed the hatch and got them in the air.

Crosshair glanced at her from the corner of his eye, noting the brace and cane. And the many scars dotting her limbs and face that he hadn’t seen on Kamino. “The kid said you died.”

“I should have.” She adjusted the navi-computer and engaged the hyperdrive as they cleared the atmosphere, her motions a little too Tech-like for Crosshair’s comfort. She looked resigned, exhaustion on her face that looked less soft and round than he remembered.

“You say that like you wish you had.” Crosshair frowned.

“You catch on quick.” She engaged the hyperdrive and set the autopilot, leaning back in the seat. “It’s a couple hours to Pabu… Tech said you didn’t like small talk. It’s okay.”

He nodded quietly, sitting back to see if she’d fill the silence. Instead, they both sat there under the lights of hyperspace with nothing but questions between them and no one brave enough to ask.

When the ship sat down on Pabu Omega was already asleep, tucked into her pillows and cuddled with Batcher. Hunter peeked in on Shiani in the cockpit, glancing at Crosshair with his arms crossed and head down on his chest. It felt weird to have the sniper back on board… like a stranger instead of the brother he’d known since he was a cadet. “You need help getting out of your brace, Shiani?”

“No. I’m just gonna sleep here.” She turned the engines off and leaned back further in the chair. Half the time she didn’t bother going back to her nest when they were on the ground, haunting the cockpit like a ghost of the girl she used to be. “... were you really going to leave him, Hunter?”

“It crossed my mind. But probably not.” He sighed. “Was he okay on the trip back?”

“We didn’t talk much.” She looked over at Crosshair. He’d fallen asleep less than an hour into the trip, clearly exhausted. He didn’t even know her well enough to feel safe with Shiani, but he was willing to accept she was the less threatening adult on the ship.

“He’s never been much of a talker.” Hunter said cautiously.

“Tech told me. Go to sleep, Hunter.” She murmured. “She’s finally home, you need to rest. You’ve been running on fumes for months.”

“So have you.” He frowned quietly. “You didn’t even rest once you woke up…”

“There wasn’t any time.” She waved her hand gently. “There’s time now. Go to bed. I’ll open the ramp so we can get some air in here.”

“Good idea.” He lightly patted her shoulder. “Get some rest.”

She listened to him settle down in the bunkroom for bed, Wrecker snoring already. It didn’t take long for Hunter to fall asleep, and she slowly got herself to her feet and limped out of the ship.

Pabu was warm and peaceful, the sea breeze filling her lungs. It was a pleasant change from recycled ships air, but just a hollow comfort after so long. She limped her way to the edge of the sea wall and leaned against it, collapsing her cane and slipping it back on its holster. She propped her elbows up and stared out at the dark, where the sky met the sea and blurred into an unending line that made her feel so small.

It was just starting to feel like home here… it doesn’t now. Not without Tech.

She turned her head as she heard footsteps coming down the ramp, expecting Omega or Hunter. Instead, she spotted Crosshair walking out with his hands in his pockets and shoulders slumped. Part of her wanted to walk over and strike up a conversation, like she would have with Hunter or Wrecker. She’d ask if they couldn’t sleep, see what was on their mind, and try to help if she could. It was about all she was good for, she thought.

But she barely knew Crosshair. What she did know came from Tech; his memories and holo recordings of a sharp tongued sniper with a smirk and a toothpick. A competent soldier who preferred listening to speaking, who never seemed to get bored of Tech’s ramblings even if he didn’t understand a word. He’d said Crosshair understood him more than any brother… and she could feel the guilt and misery rolling off of the sniper as he tried to sneak past her to go down to the beach. It was the same feeling he’d been trying to smother in the cockpit.

Tech had loved Crosshair. Tech had died to save Crosshair. But just because he was out of Tantiss didn’t mean he was saved yet. Omega had gotten him out of the physical hell, but the one of his own making was stronger than any fortress. Shiani would know, she’d been in her own hell since the day she’d woken up on the ground on Eriadu.

She watched him make it to the stairs and start heading down towards the water, and she sighed and picked her cane back up. Fuck… she hated stairs. But it looked like she was going, because Crosshair was Tech’s brother and that meant he was hers too. She had nothing left but Omega and her brothers.

Crosshair had found a large rock to put his back to when she got to the sand, many steps down, and had his head on his knees trying to lose himself in the sound of the surf and no thoughts. If he could have ignored the feeling of eyes on him, he would have, but he’d been in survival mode far too long. His head popped up just as Shiani came into view, metal foot and cane sinking into the sand and complicating her hobble over to him. He frowned, cautious, as the siren made her way to where he was sitting and slowly slid herself to the sand beside him.

He hunched his shoulders and waited for her to start swearing, or punch him. Instead, she leaned her head back against the rock. “I never realized how many steps there were until I couldn’t take them three at a time.” She sighed. “I used to race Omega to the bottom.”

“She’s… she’s a good kid.” Crosshair said cautiously. “... what did you come down here for?”

“I wanted to talk to you. You fell asleep in the cockpit.” She shrugged.

He sighed. “You didn’t have to come all the way down here to cuss me out. I’d have come back up to the ship eventually… I’ve got nowhere else to go.” He hugged his knees a little tighter.

“Why do you think I’m going to cuss you out?” She gave him a confused look.

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “... I ruined your life? Omega told me why you guys went to Eriadu… It was because of me that you got hurt, and that Tech…” He shook his head, voice cracking at his brother’s name. “Of course you hate me. You should.”

“I don’t hate you, Crosshair.” The siren looked at him, and he felt like she was staring right through him with those massive eyes. “You want me to, though. You think it’ll justify how much you hate yourself, but I’m not going to do that for you.”

“Why?” He couldn’t help but ask. “He talked about you all the time once we saw you… about how smart you were. How happy, and bright… from the beginning, I knew he was crazy about you. Probably before he figured it out, cause he could never get out of his own head… but you didn’t smile the whole ride back. He said you smiled all the time….” Crosshair gritted his teeth.

“He talked about you all the time too.” Shiani’s voice was barely above a whisper, he had to listen intently to hear her over the sea. “He said… you two had a special bond. He said you love quietly, but if someone paid attention they’d see it… it showed in the times you were a good listener, and how you understood him when nobody else did. He said that he had to respect your choice to leave, but he hated it. That he wanted you back, that even though adapting to change is a part of life that he hated when you were gone. He saw the space you left behind everywhere we went. Tech was going to look for you by himself if Hunter wouldn’t go, just as soon as we found out about Hemlock and what a monster he is. How disrespectful would it be for me to hate something he loved so much?”

There were tears in her eyes when Crosshair met them. He had a persistent lump in his throat, but he nodded. Shiani scrubbed her eyes on the back of her hand and got herself together, mentally scolding herself for crying. “I’m sorry.” Crosshair said after a minute. “About what I said on Bracca. That was.. A low blow. I don’t even know why I said it.”

“Inhibitor chip.” She felt a tiniest of smiles creeping over her lips at the memory. That had been the first step of the convoluted road that led her into Tech’s arms… “He was so mad at you for that… he yelled at me when I brought it up. He even slammed the cockpit door in my face, and had a whole meltdown.”

Crosshair winced. “Fuck. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. It actually led us together… I never would have known he felt the same way I did if you didn’t say something.” She shook her head. “It was the happiest time of my life, when he was mine.”

“Was he a decent boyfriend at least?” Crosshair asked, curious now that she’s made it plain she wasn’t a threat.

“He was an excellent husband.” Shiani swallowed hard, smile broadening even though it hurt.

“You guys were married?” The sniper blinked.

“Yeah. It was… accidental. He gave me armor, and in my culture a handmade shirt is a marriage proposal.” She pulled her good leg up and leaned against her knee. “He had no idea, and I didn’t know he didn’t know. So I made him a return gift, and I thought we were married for months… He took a little while to come around to the idea. But… then he made me this.” She showed him her durasteel ring. “He had one like it, and the necklace I made him and my armor… we were happy. Especially once we got here…”

Crosshair looked around at the ocean. “It’s… nice here. I guess.”

“We used to wake up as late as we wanted, and have caf and go swimming or walk on the beach. He cataloged seashells… and I’d bring him different snacks to try from the market. One night we fell asleep on the beach and it was past midnight when we woke up… we didn’t even go back to the ship. We just stayed…” She swallowed again, tearing up at the memory of Tech’s voice telling her how much he loved her when they’d made love on the beach. It was hardly the first time and it wouldn’t have been the last.

“You don’t have to talk about it if it makes you cry.” Crosshair murmured.

“I want to. I want to, so bad.” She whispered. “Hunter and Wrecker tiptoe around it like if they say his name I’ll die too… but I just need to remember him. He was the best thing that ever happened to me and I’m not allowed to remember the good times out loud? I can’t pretend he wasn’t there… I don’t want to pretend he wasn’t. I want…” She put her hands over the sides of her mouth and tried to right her breathing. “I don’t want to grieve him alone. Everyone else loved him too… but no one will share it with me, so I can’t share mine. It hurts so much more by myself.”

Crosshair looked at the siren next to him, watching her shoulders shake as she tried to cough up the grief like poison she’d been forced to swallow. He wasn’t good at being comforting, that was Wrecker’s forte… but he could understand. He was tired of being alone too, and he wasn’t sure it would be much better when he went back up the stairs to where Hunter and Wrecker didn’t trust him. He didn’t deserve their trust, not after what he’d done… but Shiani was willing to give him a chance. He needed a friend right now, and so did she.

“We used to hide his glasses, as a cadet.” He said quietly, and she sniffled but looked at him. “It was such a dick move… but we’d put them right where we knew his vision got fuzzy. And time how long it took him to find them. He started wising up and made them into goggles so they’d be harder to steal.”

Shiani blinked, then chuckled weakly. “I put them on my face the first day I met him, while he was unconscious… everything was so blurry, but the yellow was so nice.”

Crosshair nodded. “He was the last one of us to talk. He just used to stare and stare at everything… or scream his head off. He’d stand near one of us if we got hurt and just shriek until someone came. He was so loud for being so little… it used to give Hunter headaches. When he started talking, we were all excited that the noise would stop, and then he just turned into a chatterbox.”

She smiled. “He did talk so much… I loved it. Sirens are only quiet when we’re hunting… it’s unnatural for us. Tech could chase away the silence, and it never mattered what he was talking about. I just wanted to listen forever. I only learned Basic so I could talk back to him…”

“You really had it bad.” Crosshair smiled faintly, looking at her. She was teary again, but smiling.

“You have no idea. I worshipped him. I’d have fought the gods for him… I tried begging them to take me and send him back.” She sighed, cheek in her hand now. “All those years praying to them, and they ignored me. I don’t know what’s worse, losing your faith because the gods must not be real or knowing they are and they just… don’t help. I quit praying. Just tastes like swallowing my own venom now.”

“Venom?” Crosshair raised an eyebrow.

She showed him her teeth. “Yeah. Sirens are venomous… It’s not lethal to humans, but it itches and makes you pass out. I got Wrecker once, when his chip went off…” She smiled faintly. “Tech was studying it… trying to make himself immune. All those little needles, and I had to bite a little cup every morning before I could have my caf.”

“He was such a fucking nerd.” Crosshair smiled sadly. “Hard to believe he got married…”

Shiani touched her dented chest plate and hiccupped. “He’d have been so upset, if he could see what happened. He’d say he should have built me more armor, over my legs…”

“How bad is it? Your leg?” Crosshair glanced at the brace. “If… if you don’t mind telling me.”

“My pelvis was crushed and my femur snapped and came through the skin.” She touched the place on her leg where the thick scar sat under her overalls. “I was out there… two weeks, I think. The pelvis started to heal wrong, the ball and socket joint is misshapen. I can’t straighten it, but it bends inward so I can sit and goes out enough I could probably ride a speeder if I needed to.. The break in the femur had to be set, but I got a bad infection… it weakened the bone. It won’t bear weight without the brace. I have to drag myself or use a crutch. My hips are misaligned now, so my back is kind of crooked too. That’s why the brace is like this… I’m lucky my broken ribs didn’t displace, so they healed more or less right. But I’ll never walk correctly again, and I can’t run.”

“And it won’t get any better?”

“It’s been six months. I don’t think so.”

Crosshair hesitated, wondering if she had even told his brothers the truth he was about to ask for. “Does it hurt?”

“Yes.” Shiani nodded. “I try not to complain. I don’t want your brothers to take me off the controls. I need to keep flying. Whenever I have my hands on the controls or I make a repair to the ship… Tech’s still with me. I can hear him telling me what to do, reminding me how to fly… Everything I know about the galaxy off of Kamino is because of him.”

He nodded, looking up as the earliest streaks of dawning light started to peek over the horizon. “They’ll come looking for you if you’re not on the ship when they wake up.”

“You don’t want to go back yet, though.”

“No… I don’t. I only made it out of Tantiss because of Omega. She didn’t give up on me… She should have.”

“No, she shouldn’t have. You belong with this family, just as much as I do. Maybe more, it was your family first.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “Omega’s my best friend. But… you need one too.”

He looked at her hand and slowly put his own over it. “Thank you…”

“Come on, let’s go back. You can use my bed in the hold if you don’t want to go back to the bunkroom with them right now.”

“What about you?”

“I have to take my brace off to lay down.” She gestured to the places it came over her hips. “I don’t like taking it off, so I usually sleep in the pilot’s seat if someone else isn’t flying.”

He nodded, looking at her for another minute. Tech’s bed had been a top bunk… she couldn’t get into it anymore. She was barred from the bed she’d shared with her husband, one of the places she might have gotten some comfort, by her injury. “Here. I’ll carry you back up the steps.”

She blinked, eyes wide, as he stood and gave her a hand up. He let her put her cane in its holster, and turned around to give her a piggyback up the many stairs to Upper Pabu. Crosshair was a complicated, damaged, traumatized man… but his little sister Omega had saved him. He could offer a little of himself to his other sister, the one his brother married who missed Tech just as much as he did.

#explict #original character #clone force 99 #the bad batch #star wars #fanfic #tbb tech #song of the sea

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aerodaltonimperial · 2 years ago

Text

baby, please (would you read my eulogy?)

(This is the group chat's fault LOL. Canon gives me nothing so I have to resort to shit like this?? Ugh look at me. @hookedtheghoul dubbed this JungleCorpse and it's fucking genius so we are going with it HAHA)

His head hurts. It’s not a strange sensation, and certainly not an unusual one on any given Wednesday, but the ache began at the back, where his spine meets up with his skull, and then spread like blooming flower petals until it’s taken over most of his thoughts. When he presses his fingertips to the nape of his neck, gingerly, the skin is tender and sore beneath his touch. He’ll pay for this one, for Sammy targeting in on all the weakest joints he’s got, but beneath the pain, Jack vows to make MJF pay more.

It was supposed to be the three of them against the problem; the three of them against the man who holds everything and is grateful for nothing. And now it’s not, and Jack’s not sure which part upsets him more: that he believed it would all play out fair and square, above board, or that he believed, deep down, that he’d eventually win.

Dealing with the sting of losing will have to come after dealing with the much more pronounced pain littered across his body. He stands in the bathroom of his hotel room and checks his reflection for anything out of the ordinary—broken blood vessels, open wounds, the usual drill. There’s nothing but a smattering of already purpling bruises that will rainbow within days. Jack’s hands fall back to his sides, knuckles scraping across the fake marble counter.

There’s a knock at the door.

Of all the people to be standing on the other side when he opens it, Jack honestly never would have expected this one.

There’s a moment of nothing, of stillness, of the quiet that descends when words slip off into failure, and then Darby holds up the ice bucket. “Can I come in?”

There are a thousand reasons Jack should say no, but he pulls the door open wider, the barest of invitations. Darby takes it.

“What are you doing here?” Jack asks, when the door has clicked latched once more.

Darby gives the room once-over as though his own isn’t identical, right down to the framed pictures on the wall. “We need to talk about what we’re going to do.”

“Do?” Jack parrots.

“About MJF. And Sammy.”

Jack laughs, involuntary and mirthless. “We’re not going to do anything. I’m going to take a shower, and go to sleep so that I can forget this whole day.”

“He cheated,” Darby says. His eyes flicker to Jack’s, narrow at the edges. Flecks of the white paint drawing a harsh line down his face have caught on his cheek. “They both cheated.”

“And we probably should have expected it,” Jack replies, harsher than he anticipated. “So that’s on us.”

A pause. Then: “I wanted it to be you in the next match.”

“Why?” Jack crosses his arms over his chest. He’s got few defenses left, but hell if he isn’t going to cling to the remainder. “Because I’m the easier target?”

Another pause, longer this time. “No.”

Jack sighs. “I don’t care, Darby. And I ask again, why are you here? We aren’t friends.”

“We’ve got a common enemy,” Darby says, like it means something.

“Oh, cut the ‘enemy of my enemy’ bullshit,” Jack snaps. “It doesn’t matter what MJF and Sammy did—I’m out. You all got what you wanted.”

Darby’s expression twists. “I didn’t say I wanted that.”

“Why wouldn’t you? I was in your way just like Sammy’s.” This is ridiculous; Jack needs to go to sleep, take care of the litter of bruises he’s going to be sporting by morning. He doesn’t have time to argue with Darby about the ethical ramifications of MJF and Sammy deciding to join forces. “Listen, I’m exhausted, okay? I just got thrown into a table by a guy whose tongue is hanging out of his mouth more often than not. I can’t do this now.”

“Can you do it later?” Darby asks.

“What does that even mean?”

Darby’s still got the ice bucket in his hands. He raises it up again, gives the plastic a little shake. “I’ll help.”

“Why?” Jack counters.

Ignoring the question, Darby circles his index finger lazily. “Sit. And turn around.”

Jack shouldn’t. He really ought to kick Darby out of his room and lock the door behind him. This entire thing is bizarre, the sort of thing Jack can’t reasonably conceive the ending to. But he sits, because his skin is aflame, and doesn’t argue when Darby swings a leg over onto the bed behind him.

The ice stings, and Jack winces, though it begins to numb the worst of the marks on his back within a minute. He sags into the sensation, his muscles protesting the whole time, and then he waits while Darby slides the ice around a few times before trying to push the conversation again. “They can’t both have the belt. One of them will turn on the other.”

“Yeah,” Darby says. Apparently, it’s not a new train of thought. “But we have to deal with this bullshit until then.”

Jack loops his fingers together in his lap, absently. Stares at the black television face. “You want to join up. Against them.”

Darby doesn’t answer. The patch of ice sweeps over to Jack’s other shoulder blade, another shock of cold.

“Why would you want to join up with me?” Jack asks, and before Darby even has the time to reply, adds, “I just got out of something like that. I’m not interested in doing it again.”

“Not even to take out MJF?”

“How would we even do that? You want to cheat just like they do?” Jack snorts. “I don’t want to stoop to their level. Not even to win. Besides, I already told you: I’m out now. If you want to beat them, you’ve still got the chance.”

Behind him, Darby sighs. He sounds annoyed, but Jack can’t find it in himself to care. “Think about it.”

“Already did.”

“Think about it when you haven’t been thrown through a table by Sammy Guevara.” Darby stands up, dropping the ice and the towel wrapped around it into Jack’s hands with little fanfare. He gets halfway to the door before pausing and turning, the unpainted side of his face glowing warm in the yellow hotel lighting. “You might feel differently tomorrow.”

“Why did you want it to be me in the next match?” Jack asks. His fingers tighten around the cold fabric in his lap.

Darby just holds his gaze, sharp, offering absolutely nothing. “See you, Jack.”

He leaves Jack with far more questions than answers. But in his wake, the hotel room is quiet: too quiet. Jack doesn’t want to spend time with the anger that’s already starting to coil in his stomach. He’s done enough of that. He gets up and goes to his suitcase to pull out his phone and tap a quick message, hoping that a new perspective might shed light on the situation. Darby showed up at my door after the match. I think he wants to join forces or something.

The reply takes only a few seconds: he said that?

Not in quite so many words. Jack frowns. He tugs his bottom lip between his teeth just to roll the flesh around a little. He brought ice to help with the bruising.

The three dots appear, flickering. i’m sorry WHAT?? And then a second later, a follow-up: WHAT????

“Dammit,” Jack sighs.

His phone lights up with another message: i’m coming over don’t do anything stupid

“I don’t do stupid things,” Jack mutters, and tosses his phone on the bed. Thirty seconds later, there’s another knock on his door. This time, at least, he knows exactly who is on the other side.

“This is unnecessary,” he says as he opens it up and Hook breezes in like he owns the place, hair askew and hands shoved down into his hoodie pocket.

Hook turns a wide circle, almost like he thinks Jack has somehow stashed Darby behind the curtains or something, and then levels Jack with an expression bordering on incredulous. “He came over here with ice? And you didn’t think that was weird?”

“I have to stop giving you my room number,” Jack says.

Hook’s disbelief grows more pronounced. “Jack, you hate each other.”

“No, we hate MJF,” Jack points out. “And, at this point, Sammy, because seriously, fuck that guy. This whole thing is a nightmare. It’s just politics.”

“Politics doesn’t come over to ice your bruises. I don’t even do that.”

“Yeah, cause you’re an asshole,” Jack says.

“Not the point.” Hook rolls his eyes.

The clock face tells him that it’s far, far too late for conversations like this. Jack throws his head back. “What are you trying to say here, Hook? I’m tired. I don’t have time for this.”

“Oh my god, Jack, think this through,” Hook tells him. “Why would he do that?”

A moment, a beat; Jack doesn’t trust it. Doesn’t like it. He scowls. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what, make sense?” Hook hits him with another of his unimpressed looks. “You’re just mad because I’m right.”

“I’m not mad, and you’re not right. You’re insane, is what you are.”

“Darby Allin showed up here with ice for your injuries and you think I’m insane,” Hook deadpans.

“I’m not listening to you,” Jack says. Then he waves a hand between them back and forth a few times. "Please get that look off your face, the one where you think I'm an idiot."

"I don't know how to get it off my face."

Jack is too tired for this. "Yes, you do."

"You're right, I just don't want to." Hook sniffs, that unconscious crinkling of his nose he seems to do when he's lost in thought. "So what are you going to do about this? Even if you don’t believe me that there’s ulterior motives here, it’s obvious Darby wants something from you.”

"I don't know," Jack admits. His head hurts. His body hurts; he's been snapped in a million pieces, and he honestly just cannot attempt to sort through the mess that is Darby right now.

"Seems like you should figure that out soon." Hook raises one eyebrow, the judgy bitch.

"Yeah?" Jack counters. "Should I? You sent that text yet asking how recovery is going?"

Silence. Hook works his jaw around in a slow circle while glaring at Jack across the hotel carpet. And then, after what feels like an eternity loaded with all the bullshit neither of them is willing to wade into, he says, "I don't know why I'm friends with you."

"Ditto." Jack sighs, rolling his neck around. Despite it all, the ice has helped, and it’s one more thing he files away to think about when he’s got more brain power. "You wanna watch a movie or something?"

"Yeah." Hook climbs onto the bed without further invitation, grabbing for the remote on the bedside table, and Jack resigns himself to something with far more explosions than necessary. He takes a far too quick shower, and emerges to find one of those obnoxious car racing movies on, the ones he has long since lost count of. But it doesn't really matter. He settles up on the pillows next to Hook, and they watch in companionable silence.

Hook falls asleep within the hour, his head tilted back against the headboard, sleepy little sighs slipping past his lips. It happens more often than not, and Jack wonders when, if ever, Hook will figure out that he gravitates to having body heat next to him like a missile. Jack’s never met anyone as miserably lonely as Hook is, especially given how much the man staunchly refuses to do anything to change the situation. But Hook is a familiar tangle, comforting by this point, and the rest…

When Jack reaches for his phone, he's got an unread message from an unknown number. He clicks in.

Make sure to put new ice on in the morning. And think about what I said.

Jack’s eyes slide to the left, but Hook’s still asleep. For some reason, Jack wants to keep this close to his chest for now. He waits a moment, and then another; finally, he thumbs down to the input. He types, very slowly: Okay.

Then he taps into the string of numbers at the top and saves the contact under ‘Darby.’

Jack watches to the end of the movie, full of explosions and gasoline fires and cars screaming off of towers, with Hook muttering nonsense in his sleep next to him and a thousand thoughts racing through his head.

#JungleCorpse #And my love UngleHoo platonic friendship #Why am I like this #God only knows #Sleep deprivation changes a woman

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