#please understand i can get burnt out p easily when it comes to writing

[sugarstripes]

Dqb2 image if your still doing them? Malroth dealing with nightmares (perhaps from the hargon incident) And being comforted by the builder?

Oh, I still am. I have uh. Quite a bit of asks sitting in my inbox, and felt overwhelmed when I got them all is all! Just been tired from work. Note this will have light spoilers from the endgame.

- - - - - - - - -

Red. All he saw was red, and pitch black darkness. The ground was wet, water as high as his ankles. The smell of the place was metallic, a stench that he swore was familiar but distant. Malroth looked around, searching for an end to this abyss. He began to panic, running even though it felt like he was going nowhere. Then it started. Images of those he came to know and care for blasted into his subconscious, but not in a nice way. No, each one was being taken down with what sounded like a monster or a beating everytime. He felt like he was going to puke when he realized that the water he was running in wasn't water, but blood.

A cackle rose through the darkness, mocking him. Saying this was inevitable. Saying this was who he was to be. Nothing short of a cretin who destroyed. He can't hide from it for long. He started to weakly call out for his Builder friend.

And then he woke up, tears streaming down his face as he looked up at the night sky. Right, they built him a sky light for that reason. It was calming to look up at the stars. Speaking of, the Builder was awake on their bed on the other side of the room. They shared a room together on the Isle of Awakening, where everyone is most definitely alive and okay. He took a few breaths to chill himself out. They walked over to him, sitting on the end of his bed.

"Malroth.." They mumbled, caressing his face to wipe at the tears that spilled. Their brows furrowed in worry.

".. it was just a nightmare." He responded, looking away but gently held onto their wrist to keep them there.

"It's okay to have them, Mal. They're a normal process... Cmere." They used this position to their advantage as they tugged him up into their arms, holding him close as they tucked his head under their chin. They don't know why, but he always found their heartbeat the most grounding thing there was.

"... I dreamed I was in that dark space again.. The.. The one Hargon had me in." Malroth shut his eyes, resting his head against their chest. The Builder rubbing his back.

"Oh, it was that nightmare again huh?"

"Mhm.. Hey, do you mind if we uh..."

"I can move my bed over to here if you want me to."

"Thank you."

"No problem, whatever I can do to help you, I will do it."

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

If I Fell For You (Part 14) - Keep Close

Summary: The Ackles have the Padalecki’s over for dinner and let it slip that they’re engaged. Things seem to be going well but the anniversary of the accident is coming up and the reader comes up with the Ackles taking their first vacation together as a means of distracting Jensen as well reconnecting with Ray...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 4,800ish

Warnings: language, mention of sex, mention of a dead parent/spouse, anxiety

A/N: Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

________

“I’m stuffed,” said Jensen that night, the kids running around playing soccer in the yard after dinner. 

“I need that chicken recipe,” said Jared.

“I’ll write it down for you guys,” you said, sitting back in your chair. “You can do it with breast too if you like that better.”

“I want exactly this like, everyday from now on,” said Jared. Gen rolled her eyes and Jensen pulled out his phone. “Want me to take a pic?”

“I don’t need your freakishly long arms just yet,” chuckled Jensen. He turned around and took one of the four of you at the table before handing off his phone. “Mind getting one of us?”

“Your mom harassing you for engagement photos already?” asked Gen.

“By the time we were leaving they were both asking for photos and being obnoxious. Better than they were though,” said Jensen, smiling beside you. Jared took a few more and handed the phone back. 

“I still can’t believe your parents would act like that,” said Gen. “I mean obviously I’m super happy it got fixed but that’s so unlike them.”

“They made a mistake is all,” you said with a smile. “I don’t know about you guys but I’m going to finish this beer in the pool.”

“I think I’ll join you,” said Jared. He stood up and had a look on his face you caught too late. Before you knew it he had you picked up and was jogging over to the deep end and jumping in with you.

“Jared!” you said when you popped up. He giggled and swam off to the shallow end. “After I helped pick up the plates ya big lug.”

“We got it,” said Jensen, carrying over two beer cans and handing them to you. “We’ll join you guys in a few.”

About ten minutes later Jensen was leaning against the side of the pool in his bright red swim trunks, handing you the other half of his cookie cake piece.

“So any big plans for the wedding?” asked Jared, sat on the pool steps with Gen.

“I have a thought,” you said, turning to Jensen. “I haven’t discussed it with Jensen yet.”

“Vegas. Shotgun wedding,” he laughed. You shook your head and he grinned. “You’re thinking the farm, aren’t you.”

“What do you think? It could be outdoor or indoor, whatever it needs to be depending on the weather.”

“I’d love that,” he said, giving you a squeeze. “That’d be perfect for us.”

“You own a farm?” asked Jared. 

“Yeah, ten minutes from the brewery.”

“Dudes. You can open bar with your own beer. Oh and dibs on being a groomsmen.”

“Like that wasn’t gonna happen,” said Jensen.

“I don’t know on that,” you said. Jared’s face fell and you shook your head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that you wouldn’t be one. Of course you would. I just don’t have a lot of close girlfriends. I think it’d be weird if Jensen had a ton and…”

“I don’t think it’s weird,” said Gen. “We didn’t have an even number at our wedding.”

“We got time to figure that stuff out,” said Jensen, holding your waist. You finished the last bite of cookie and hummed. 

“So you two having a kid?” asked Jared. Gen whacked his chest and he shrugged.

“Jesus, Jare. Don’t ask that.”

“They’re our best friends and godparents to our children...although I guess Y/N didn’t know that she inherited that until now but come on, I know you’re wondering too.”

“Shut up,” said Gen, crossing her arms. “Obviously if they decide, they’ll tell us when it happens.”

“Yeah, I think there’ll be at least one,” you laughed. Gen lit up and turned to Jared.

“Last time they said they were having a baby guess what we did? I can’t handle no more babies,” said Jared.

“Can you even get that thing up anymore?” teased Jensen, sipping on his beer.

“You’re one to talk, old man.”

“That shit still works just fine.”

“Just fine?” shot back Jared.

“Oh my God. You’re both good at sex. Y/N be grateful you’ve missed this same conversation over and over for the past sixteen odd years,” said Gen. 

“I’m still taller,” said Jared with a smirk.

“I can last longer,” said Jensen with one of his own. They narrowed their eyes at one another and Jared stood up.

“Go wrestle on the grass,” groaned Gen. They both huffed and got out of the pool before starting to playfully wrestle. “See, what you may not realize yet is you have another child right there.”

“Yeah but he’s hot,” you said, Gen laughing while you sat beside her. “Do you guys really talk about sex with each other?”

“Yes and no. The boys are you know, boys. They’d combust if they didn’t tease each other. I wouldn’t say there’s like, intimate details or anything ever shared. They’re both pretty private about that sort of thing. Dee and I would talk but more so say we had fun the night before. Shit we probably talked about sex toys more than anything.”

You stopped mid sip of your beer and she laughed.

“When your guy is thousands of miles away for that long out of the year, you gotta get off on your own. You get pretty good at phone sex too. You’re lucky. Jensen won’t be staying away so long ever again he said.”

“No, no. But uh...before Jensen I’d had the same boyfriend forever and he was as vanilla as could be. We didn’t do that stuff really together.”

“I can text you some links to stuff. It’s not like you have to go in some scary store or anything. It’s discrete and I think a small vibe would be great to start with. You can use it during sex or foreplay or whatever. Just you know, have fun.”

“Jensen and I kinda got busted by the cops a week or so back for...activities in the backseat,” you said. She started to laugh and you groaned. “Thankfully it was his friend that caught us so he let us off the hook but...it was kinda fun.”

“Good,” she said, sighing as Jensen pinned Jared down. “Hey so yeah about that wedding thing. Jared had two more groomsmen than I had girls. It doesn’t have to be matchy, matchy, you know?”

“I know. I don’t know if…” you trailed off. “I lost my friend group when I broke it off with my last boyfriend. We’d been together for over ten years and I kept turning down his proposals and they didn’t like that. I have some nanny friends but not a lot and no one I’m really close to. I don’t know if I’d even get more than five people to come for me. Everyone else is his family and friends and I didn’t think about that until just now. I mean what would they think, seeing that? I don’t know if I even want anyone there now.”

“I think what they’d see is someone they care about marrying someone he loves. Just because we’re Jensen’s friends doesn’t mean we’re not your friends too. I know we’re still getting to know each other but we’ll be as close as those two eventually. Ruthie was texting me and we’re having a girls night the next convention in Dallas. You literally have a built in crew ready to go from the show, the girls and the guys. You are so coming with me to the next night I have with my local girlfriends and you got our family. You even got Dee’s parents. You have more than you know, sweetie.”

“I never had a best friend growing up except for my mom. Until Jensen,” you said. “I’ve never really been good at the friend thing.”

“Were you bullied in school?” she asked quietly.

“Don’t tell anyone besides Jared but my dad wasn’t a good person. He hurt me and so I was afraid of getting in trouble so I didn’t talk to other kids all that much until I got old enough to understand what he was doing was wrong and that’s how I ended up being adopted.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Can’t do anything about it now. But I can have it not control my life too. I’ve been pretty good since I was nine in that department. My mom dying sucked and things have been up and down but I like where I am now. This is easily the happiest I’ve ever been in my life.”

“Jens’s not perfect.”

“I know. But he’s good enough. He gave me a certain confidence to live my life, like really live it.”

“He’s alright,” she smiled. “You know I have an idea about this bridesmaids thing you might like.”

“You?”

“Oh I would for sure but I meant more so I know two little girls that wouldn’t mind. Maybe there’s a boy too,” she said.

“I’m gonna need you to be my wedding planner at this rate,” you said.

“Job accepted,” she said. “I say we go farmhouse modern style.”

“Gen. I got engaged like two weeks ago. We have time,” you said. “We don’t even have a date.”

“At the very least can we go dress shopping?” she asked.

“I’m going to regret this,” you sighed as Jensen stepped back in the water.

“Get yourself a stronger man, Padalecki. That one is weak,” he said. Jared followed him right after and went to tackle him when Gen caught his arm.

“Boys, not in the water,” she said.

“Chicken?” asked Jensen.

“Losers pick up the tab for when we go out this weekend for dinner. Deal?” asked Jared.

“Well in that case, you’re on.”

Two Weeks Later

“Jensen,” you said, carding your fingers through his hair while he absentmindedly burnt some eggs. “You okay babe?”

“Yeah. We ought to pack up the kids, get on the road soon if we’re gonna hit the beach.”

“I’m gonna drive, okay?” you asked. He nodded and you got out the eggs again, making up a new batch. “Do you want to talk to Ray?”

“Why?” he asked quietly, leaning back against the counter.

“Anniversaries of traumatic events can be triggering,” you said. “My mom died two days ago. Well, you know what I mean.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked.

“Because it doesn’t trigger me anymore. But it did and this is the first time...the first one is the roughest.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I ought to talk to him.”

“Eat your breakfast. I’ll give him a call and get the kids ready while you guys talk, okay?” you said.

“Thank you,” he said. You kissed his cheek and hugged him before you went upstairs for your phone. It rang a few times but Ray finally answered, noise in the background.

“Y/N. Everything alright?” he asked.

“Hey. Yeah. We’re...we’re pretty good. Today’s the first anniversary of Jensen’s-”

“Ah. I understand.”

“Listen, I know it’s a Sunday and you don’t work the weekends but would you mind talking to him for a few minutes? We’re going down to Galveston for the week in a bit but he’s off this morning.”

“I’d talk to him even if he wasn’t your fiance but especially because of that. You know we’re actually down here ourselves for a few days. Just got down yesterday. If you guys are around...maybe we could get together for that swim.”

“I’d like that. You okay?” you asked.

“I always get a little down on the day but Sarah understands. You understand.”

“Yeah. I’m gonna put Jensen on and um, maybe we can meet at Arillo’s for dinner?”

“We got a reservation there ourselves tonight. How many in your crew? Five? I’ll call and ask for an update.”

“Yeah there’s five of us. Um, Ray?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry for being so horrible as a teenager after mom. You loved her as much as I did.”

“Thank you but you don’t have to apologize for that. You got too much pain in your life. I’m glad you found the good stuff too.”

“Are Geroge and Taylor there?” you asked.

“Yeah kids are here. Taylor’s got some internship but she does it online half the day and George is some research assistant thing for one of his professors but same kinda deal. We leave them to work in the morning while Sarah and I have some fun. Want me to let them know you’re coming?”

“Probably a good idea. Not sure how they’ll react,” you said, Jensen poking his head into the bedroom. “Here’s Jensen.”

“Okay, sweetie. We’ll see you guys soon.”

You handed the phone to Jensen and finished up packing while he sat on the bed. You tried to leave him be but couldn’t help listening in.

“Yeah I’m anxious...I don’t want her to drive down today...you know why...I guess...probably...I don’t want to be freaking out for three hours in the car...because it’s today...I know...I know...so I have to suck it up...I don’t want to have a panic attack in the car with the kids...no I haven’t...I’m scared I will though...yeah...I understand...dude that sounds so stupid...that’s not medically anything...no I don’t have my doctorate...I don’t wanna ask her...I said I don’t want to, not that I wouldn’t...I know...I will...maybe I’ll try that too...yeah, Y/N said the first year is the roughest too...I’ll let her be in charge until we get down to the beach today. I think I’ll feel better after the car...yeah I kinda figured out what she was doing planning a trip on today of all days...I need it...really? Yeah, I’m looking forward to meeting up down there too...thanks Ray.”

You finished with your suitcase and had his open for him when he walked into the closet. He swallowed and handed your phone back.

“All good?” you asked.

“Ray thought it might be a good idea if I had something of yours with me on the way down, to keep on me since I’m...anxious this morning about being in a car.”

“Something of mine…” you said, looking at your side of the closet. “Why don’t you pack up and I’ll get you something before the road, okay?”

He nodded and twenty minutes and about three bathroom trips later the SUV was packed up. You hopped behind the wheel, Jensen tapping the arm rest from the passenger seat. 

“Here,” you said, reaching into your pocket, pulling out a bracelet. It was fabric, the kind made from craft string, white, rusty orange and a light tan color mixed together. 

“I’ve never seen this,” he said as he held it between his fingers.

“I got it on vacation with mom and Ray. Last one we went on,” you said, tying it around his wrist. “You have it.”

He stared at you as you turned the engine on, watching you backout. 

“This is too important for me to take,” he said quietly.

“It’s fabric. I want you to have it, okay?” you said, pulling onto the street and closing the gate. He nodded and you turned the radio on low. “Coffee run?”

“Yeah. Coffee sounds good right about now.”

You were only about fifteen or so minutes away from the beach house you’d rented. The kids were either taking naps in the backseats or watching a movie on the ipad. You risked a glance at Jensen, his fingers absently toying with the bracelet while he looked out the window, the radio on low. 

“How you doing big guy?” you asked as you pulled off to the exit ramp. 

“Pretty good now,” he said softly. 

“Mind navigating for me?” you asked. He hummed and picked up your phone from where it sat in the console the past few hours. About twenty minutes or so you were stretching outside of the car, Jensen opening the front door of the house with the code you’d been given. The kids climbed out and were good about each taking their own backpacks while you and Jensen gathered up the rest. 

“Come here,” he said, leaving the bags by his feet and kissing you against the side of the car. You grinned and he picked you up in a big squeezing hug. “I love you.”

“I know,” you said. He set you down and kissed you again. “You seem like yourself again.”

“I needed that push, get over that fear. But now, I can enjoy my day with my girl and my kiddos and apparently we are having dinner with Ray and his family tonight?” he asked.

“If that’s alright,” you said.

“One hundred percent,” he said, Arrow jumping up and down nearby. “Honey, go use the bathroom in the house if you have to go.”

“No I’m excited!” she said. “Can we go play on the beach? Pretty please?”

“Hm, give daddy fifteen minutes and then we can go?” he asked. She turned to you and grinned.

“We’ll go really soon sweetie. I promise.”

“Hey guys,” said Jensen an hour later, the five of you down on the beach and mostly watching them build a sandcastle together. “Y/N and I want to tell you something.”

“Is it that you guys are getting married?” asked JJ, patting some sand with her shovel. You glanced at Jensen and he shrugged. “You were talking to Aunt Gen and Uncle Jared about it last night, right?”

“Well, yes we were,” said Jensen. “I suppose we were a little louder than we thought. But yes, Y/N and I have decided to get married. We’re not sure when exactly but in the next year I can say.”

“So we have a mom again?” asked Arrow, fixing her corner of the castle that kept caving in.

“Well you guys are kinda lucky. You’ll get two moms,” he said. “How’s that sound?”

“We missed mom’s day,” she said with a sigh. “Right?”

“We’ll catch it next year, promise,” said Jensen. “Do you guys have any questions or anything you want to say?”

“Do we call you mom now?” asked JJ. 

“You guys call me whatever you want,” you said.

“Can we call you mom?” she asked. You nodded and she went back to playing in the sand. 

“Anything else guys?” asked Jensen.

“Can I get a giraffe?” asked Zeppelin while he figured out how much water to add to the sand to get it to stick together.

“No sweetie. They wouldn’t fit at our house,” said Jensen. 

“Darn it,” he said.

“I can tell you’re all so invested in this topic,” chuckled Jensen.

“Oh! Can my flower girl dress be purple?” asked JJ. 

“Your dress can be whatever color you want it to be,” you said.

“Awesome,” she said. “Or black and purple. With lightning stripes.”

“Ah, I knew the classic rock would finally pay off,” said Jensen.

“Maybe Daddy’s suit can be black and white stripes, like a tiger,” you said.

“Like a White Snake music video more like it,” he laughed. “We’ll figure all that stuff out. We wanted to make sure you guys knew was all and if you have any questions or were nervous or anything you know you can ask either one of us.”

“Mom makes you happy again. Of course you gotta marry her!” said Arrow. “Oh and get her a pony. Girls like that.”

“Would you care for a pony, sweetheart?” asked Jensen as he shook his head. 

“Are we talking mustang kind of pony?” you asked.

“That’s my girl,” he said, wrapping an arm over your shoulders, kissing your cheek. “Let dad get a picture of you guys. We’re on vacation after all.”

Five Hours Later

“Jensen,” you said, changing into a light summer top and a pair of denim shorts after your shower. He was standing by his suitcase undressed, trailing his finger over his scar. “Honey?”

“A year ago was the worst day of my life and today was a really great one. I get to meet Ray more and even Sarah and the kids who all sound great and...I’m really happy I’m still here to see all this.”

“Me too,” you said, wrapping your arms around him. “Wear your red underwear.”

“Is that a request?”

“I like how you look when you take it off,” you said, gently smacking his ass as you went to go fix your hair.

“I am so grateful I found you,” he said to himself. You smiled and brushed your teeth quickly before checking yourself over and taking a selfie. You sat up on the counter and opened instagram, still silently grateful you’d always had it on private. There was nothing bad on it but Jensen and Jared had tagged you before and all of the comments always seemed to be negative.

“How do I look?” asked Jensen, walking in wearing a short sleeve navy button down and his red underwear.

“So sexy,” you giggled, Jensen digging through his other bag and finding his khaki shorts. 

“Can I get away with sneakers and a backwards baseball cap at this restaurant?” he asked.

“Totally. We always eat outside. It’s near the pier,” you said, putting up your post.

“Taking more pictures I can show off of you again?” he asked, grabbing your brush and getting some control of his damp hair back.

“Nobody even sees my instagram hardly,” you said.

“You know the internet knows we’re dating, right.”

“I’m pretty sure your fans still aren’t okay with that fact, even if they know.”

“Oh you’re mistaking the nutjobs for actual fans. The real ones, those guys are cool and nice. I actually got a lot of care packages and things from them last year. Still do. They really are good people. Those other ones that leave nasty comments? Fuck them. That shit don’t bother me anymore.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying family and friends know. Can I show off the woman I love to the world?” You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him in front of you, his head cocking. 

“Yeah,” you said. “Better late than never.”

“Okay,” he said. “For now though, I’m looking forward to this dinner.”

“I hope it goes well. It’s George and Taylor I’m more worried about. They were kids when I decided to stop coming around. I only knew them maybe two years, if even that. I know they were upset.”

“Give them some credit. Ray raised them too after all.”

“I’m all set!” said Zeppelin, walking into the bathroom with his paw patrol shirt and nothing else on.

“At least I was gonna wear underwear,” chuckled Jensen. “Little dude. Get some undies on and shorts in the next two minutes or else…” he trailed off as he came in and hugged Jensen’s leg. 

“I love you, daddy,” he said.

“I love you.”

“Can we get a giraffe now?” he asked. Jensen rolled his eyes and you released him.

“Let’s go finish getting you dressed, buddy.”

“So you guys were Sarah’s fosters?” asked Jensen towards the end of dinner, all three kids passed out asleep in the stroller or on the bench besides you while you picked at your shared dessert. Neither George or Taylor had said much aside from introducing themselves. 

“Guys,” said Ray, nudging Taylor. “I’m sorry for our children’s rudeness. I was afraid of this.”

“Shut up,” they both said, Sarah sighing.

“The kids were both big fans of Supernatural. They grew up watching it with me. It was something we bonded over at first in fact,” she said. 

“Oh,” said Jensen, a smirk forming on his face. “Sam or Dean girls? George come on buddy, it’s okay.”

“This isn’t happening,” said Taylor, her eyes squeezed shut.

“So you guys don’t want to hear about the movie, gotcha,” he said, both of them snapping their heads up.

“He really is a dork,” you said. 

“Movie?” asked George.

“Someday. You can count on it,” said Jensen. “Maybe I’ll go easy on you guys and ask what mom was?”

“You boys are a little young for my tastes but honestly the guy who played John was very attractive,” she said.

“Even I’d hit that,” said Ray, Sarah laughing to herself.

“You can see Ray wins his ladies over with his charm,” you said, glancing at Taylor and George. “Like you guys could literally ask anything you ever wanted about the show and get an unfiltered answer if you want.”

“Did you really keep the car?” asked George. Jensen nodded and held up his finger.

“When we’re back in town, you guys come over and you can take a spin in it,” he said.

“Okay, he’s cool with me,” said George. You cocked your head and he smiled. “That was the car from the show I always told you about.”

“Oh. I thought you were talking about batman or something,” you said, pursing your lips. “Sorry I wasn’t…”

“You always sucked at pretending to be happy,” said Taylor. You looked down and nodded. “We get it. You had to do your own thing.”

“Don’t hate me for leaving?”

“Maybe when we were little,” she said. “But we’re older and we get that you probably felt like a fifth wheel.”

“Yeah. A lot really,” you said. “It worked out though.”

“She’s a Dean girl by the way,” said Ray, cracking up as Taylor whacked his arm.

“Dad! Oh my God no I’m not! I like Sam!” she said.

“Want to talk to him?” grinned Jensen. Her face went red and you heard a quiet chuckle at the table. “You’re right, we’ll save that for in person.”

“You basically are marrying Dean Winchester without like, the trauma,” she said. Jensen tensed up but kept a smile on his face. You knew Ray caught it when he gave him a simple nod.

“Trauma’s not inherently bad,” said Ray. “Everyone at this table has gone through some.”

“I know, dad,” she said quietly. She looked at George and he nodded. “Our parents were in a house fire. So were we. I was five and Georgie was four.”

“She carried him out and went next door for help,” you said.

“I was in a car accident last year,” said Jensen. You turned your head. It wasn’t public knowledge that he was in the car. He’d flat out told you that aside from family and a few friends, no one besides you knew. “I almost died. My wife did but for other reasons. You can still have trauma and a really good life.”

“Very good point, Jensen,” said Ray. “You two rugrats wouldn’t be around if mom and I had moped around in our misery forever.”

“Was he always such a sap?” asked George.

“From the day I met him,” you said, Jensen grabbing your hand under the table. “Would you mind watching the kids for a second?”

“Not at all,” he said. You excused yourself and brought Jensen along with you, walking out to the beach area, the breeze cool but light.

“You alright?”

“Yeah. I can talk about it now. I went from having the worst year of my life to one of the best. Nothing bad’s gonna happen for saying what really happened. I want to let all that shit go and have the rest of that really good life I was talking about.”

“For someone who keeps a lot inside I sure have noticed a difference in you the past few weeks.”

“To quote both of the loves of my life, I gotta let that shit out more regularly,” he said. You smiled and wrapped your arms over his shoulders, giving him a kiss. 

“You know that’s what we call growth, babe.”

“I very easily could have gone the opposite way this year.”

“But you didn’t, cause you tried even though it sucks sometimes. I love you but I extra love happy you and you’re definitely a happier guy now than when I met you.”

“So are you, honey,” he said. “Must make a pretty good team or something.”

“Oh yeah, maybe that’s it.”

“We should honestly get like, married or something, you know?” he teased.

“First I have to know though, are you willing to do cookie cake for a wedding cake?”

“I’m willing to make that sacrifice,” he said. “The real questions is, are you willing to deal with the eventual dad bod that will happen as a result?”

“I love this bod, but I don’t love you for this bod,” you said. 

“Thank you for today,” he said softly. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said. He grinned and kissed your cheek, hugging you tightly. “What are best friends for?”

“Everything?”

“Hell yeah they are Ackles.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 15 here!

[theandorianimperialarchive]

Stranger Than We Can Imagine

Title: Stranger Than We Can Imagine

Fandom: Star Trek Enterprise

Warnings: None really.

Disclaimer: Don’t own… if I did I would have treated it better.

Summary: Isolation is never easy, but it’s always worse when you’re surrounded by people. Written because @gaslightgallows is very good at waking up my plotbunnies and giving me writing games that actually work.

Shran watched his human crewmates as they argued over what the floating bit of rock looked like.

“It’s a bear.”

“It’s two horses running.”

“What minor planet are you looking at?”

“What do you think T’Pol?”

“I fail to see the relevance of this speculation.”

“Ah! Shran, help us out.”

As one they all looked at Shran who was standing some way back on the bridge, trying not to feel his hands curl with the desire to snap someone’s neck. He shrugged.

“I’m not one for star gazing… or boulder gazing in this case.” His voice was low, descending into tones of aggression he ought not to be feeling. Not with these aliens anyway…

It had been a long time since he had been surrounded like this, and all he could think of whenever someone touched him was that he ought to flinch from the inevitable pain of an electrical jolt. But he refused to cower in front of these people.

These people… people he trusted.

These people, who weren’t his people.

At the moment… that was all he could think of.

The disappointment was evident in Archer’s eyes. He wanted Shran to interact more with the crew, but he found himself pulling more and more away. The last time at least there had been other Andorians around. But here… he was alone. Andorians were never meant to be alone.

His eyes were drawn to the minor planet, which had been thrown out of its native asteroid belt and was adrift, alone…

Shran reared up and span around on his heels, striding off the bridge. As the lift descended he leaned on the wall, breathing heavily. He was so far gone he was seeing his own misery in a dead bit of cold lava.

He thumped his head against the bulkhead. He could easily imagine the bridge crew now, complaining, maybe even laughing, about their strange new crewmate who refused to make nice and get along with them.

They had no idea who was on their ship.

It was a relief to get into his quarters, at least here he could retreat to a more comfortable temperature, where his things were, his people’s presence could be felt.  The silks of his sheets and his informal clothing had been woven by the hands of his people. His prized book made from strips of dried tuber root held the laws of Andoria inside it. It was particularly special because it had been written in his own blood –you could leave a pint of it into the guild that made the books and they would write it out in the traditional way with the blood being mixed with other ingredients to make ink. His Clan’s crest was on the front cover, made of silver metal and blue and pink gemstones. Shran would lay his Ushaan-tor next to it at night, both reflective surfaces glinting from the shooting stars passing his window at ‘night’.  Sleep was not a familiar companion to him at the best of times. Here it was almost… alien.

Shran pulled off his clothes and stepped under his shower, the temperature as high as it would go, faintly reminding him of long swims in the geothermal pools. He closed his eyes and brought up the echoes of sensation of Telev standing behind him, slim hands caressing his shoulders and rubbing away the tension. He remembered Talas’ bright eyes as she ran her short nails over his flesh, supposedly scraping away any and all dirt.

The memories were pleasing, but he was in no mood to rise to the occasion. It was more about comfort of their presence, so he slipped easily from those memories to memories of bathing in pools on Andoria and other worlds with his crew on the Kumari, and his bond brothers on other occasions. Shran sagged against the glass of his shower door and his eyes glazed over as he remembered washing the dust and Vulcan blood out of Tholos’ hair as they hunkered down in a small pool with Keval and Thon, trembling with fear of being caught and dragged back from where they had escaped from. They had slept in a huddle that night, not daring to hope that they might be free of the tyranny of the Vulcans.

Abruptly the echoes fled from him and he was left alone again. The breath caught in his throat and he sagged even more, feeling weak.

‘Archer to Shran!’

Shran jumped and looked around stupidly, before realising the voice had come over the comm. He pulled himself up and leaned out of the shower to press the button.

“Shran here.”

“Can you come to my quarters? I’d like to talk to you.”

Shran grimaced as he muttered, “Yes sir.”

It irked him no end that Archer was his superior now. He respected the man, he trusted the man, he even liked the man… but he was not only a good deal younger than him, actually half his age, but he was an alien. Shran was coming to terms with the idea of seeing aliens as his equals… but he still tensed every time Archer gave him an order. It was becoming progressively worse with passing time.

He dressed quickly and made his way to the Captain’s quarters. He was off duty, so he chose to wear his own clothing as opposed to his Starfleet uniform that gave him a rash. He could tell Archer saw it as a rebellious gesture the moment he saw the silk shirt.

“Come on in. Drink?”

Shran nodded, accepting the peat whiskey that smelled like a burnt forest, and wasn’t as burning as Ale. Archer sipped at his own, seated on his bed with his dog’s head under his hand. Shran sat down slowly on the chair opposite him, cradling the glass in his hands. Archer scratched Porthos’ ears and leaned forward, which Shran knew meant this was not going to be a good conversation.

“Shran… is there something wrong?” he asked quietly.

Shran kept his eyes on his drink, but extended his antennae forward so Archer knew he was paying attention.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. You’ve become insular and distant in the last few weeks. And I’m not the only one to notice, T’Pol expressed concern for you, and so has Trip.”

Shran’s antennae reared back at the idea that a Vulcan was concerned for him. It was not in their nature to care about anyone. It was not in their nature to be concerned for Andorians.

“Shran!”

Shran looked up in surprise, realising he had drifted off into his mind and not answered Archer’s question. Archer looked genuinely worried now.

“Shran, if there is something bothering you, you know you can tell me.”

Shran tilted his head to the side, narrowing his eyes, and taking a mouthful of his drink.

“No.” he said at last.

“No?”

Shran met Archer’s eyes, leaning forward, crowding the pink-skin. Archer shifted back a little. Humans and Vulcans might think they were distinct and different, but they were frustratingly similar. Their sense of private space was something Shran could not understand, and could not handle for much longer. He was beginning to ache from the lack of Andorian contact. Hands on arms, shoulders, necks… on the Kumari everyone had known everyone’s body intimately, even the bonded Actives, just because Andorians did not shy from touch on any part of the body. The context meant everything, and the touch’s location did not. Humans, however, were more wary. They read meaning into a touch of hands as romantic, a touch of hips as inappropriate. Shran had recently grabbed Ensign Sato by the hips to move her out of the way. Both she and Commander Tucker had flushed and looked shocked at his actions. Shran had not even thought about it, he had been used to swatting a crewmember on the thigh or hip to make them move aside. Now… he dare not make any physical contact for fear of causing distress. It was maddening.

Shran blinked and realised he had been glaring at Archer for too long without speaking again. He shook his head and said,

“I am just preoccupied. There’s nothing wrong.”

“Preoccupied… is that all? Trip says you’ve gone from being personable with the crew to minimising your interactions to strictly business.”

“Is there something wrong with my conduct?” Shran demanded irritably.

“No… but you don’t seem very happy.”

Because I’m not, Shran wanted to snarl. But he said nothing, swirling the amber liquid. Alien liquid, in an alien glass. He set it aside, feeling ill.

“If there’s nothing else…?” he said, straightening his back.

“Shran, your wellbeing includes your happiness and I know you well enough to-”

“You don’t!” Shran snarled before he could stop himself getting to his feet. Archer sat back in surprise.

“I don’t? Don’t what?”

“Know me. You don’t know me.”

“Shran we’ve known each other for five years.”

“We have met briefly once a year when pressing concerns forced us together or a chance crossing of paths. When we were both under strain and urgency. That may have been enough for us to learn each other’s true nature… but you do not know me. You do not know my life, my personal self… not enough for you to know me well enough to determine anything.”

“Maybe not… but I can guess.” Archer stood up and regarded Shran with narrowed eyes. “You’ve never been away from your people like this before, have you? You’ve never been the only Andorian in the room for so long… you miss your people.”

“That does not take a genius pink-skin.” Shran was in no mood to be pacified. “But you are not Andorian. You don’t know what it means to be this far from my people for so long…”

“I know it’s not easy. Maybe I don’t know your past… maybe I don’t know if you ever had a pet, or what your favourite colour is… but I’m not blind. I know you’re finding it hard to be here… everything is different… and even the interactions you’re used to… aren’t the same.”

Shran looked at Archer who shrugged, “Trip told me about the incident with Hoshi.”

“I did not mean any harm… but consider the lesson learned.”

“That’s not what I meant. We know you meant no harm… and just like we learned to respect and manage T’Pol’s sense of personal space and Phlox’s preference for privacy… we can learn to manage your sense of familiarity.”

“Manage?” Shran repeated dully, clenching a fist at his side.

Archer gave a sheepish smile, “I meant… we don’t expect you to adapt and we not to. We’re perfectly capable of learning how to be… a bit more Andorian… if you give us half the chance.”

“You’ll never be Andorian.” said Shran shortly. Archer’s smile fell. Shran sighed and forced his hand to unclench. “But maybe you can learn how to treat me like one.”

“No higher respect for you… is there?”

“Everything I’ve done has been to protect and defend my people, not only from death but to ensure they will always be able to be what they are.” Shran hesitated and then decided he ought to be cooperative, so he murmured, “There was a time when I was denied that ability… that right. Worst five years of my life.” That I can remember, Shran thought to himself, clenching his fist in anger at the memory of that green blooded monster that robbed him of something so vital. He met Archer’s eyes and pushed it aside, “ So… yes Captain. There is no higher respect for me.”

Archer nodded and reached out a hand, resting it on Shran’s shoulder… and leaving it there. His skin was far too cool for it to warm Shran’s skin. But there was a sense of warmth that spread through Shran and he felt his body relax a little. He inhaled and exhaled slowly, relaxing a bit further. Archer smiled and squeezed his shoulder before dropping his hand.

“Hungry? I think Chef’s been playing with your dietary requirements again.”

Shran grimaced, “Oh… lovely.”

Archer chuckled, “I’ll try it too?”

Shran tilted his antennae towards the human speculatively, then smirked, “Deal.”

Archer sighed and nodded, “Great.”

They left Archer’s quarters and entered the lift to take them to the mess. As they stood waiting, Shran spoke.

“A Zabathu.”

“What?” Archer looked at him in confusion. Shran smiled,

“The minor planet… it looked like a wild zabathu.”

Archer looked thoughtful for a moment, then said quietly, “Huh… I’ll take your word for it.”

Shran smirked, feeling his spine straighten and he sighed, “Good.”

[toxinwing]

Distraction, coming up! ;) B, J, S, T, and X (what would you do if you got three wishes?) please? :) (best regards from -13 degrees Celsius XD)

B. Favorite band: Oh, that’s a tough one…Probably either R.E.M. or Queen right now, though it switches up constantly. And sometimes I just get stuck on a single song from one band for a couple of weeks. :P

J. What I want to be when I get older: I don’t know! I’m not sure if I’d want to do something art/drawing related ‘cause I’d probably get burnt out real easily. Maybe something car related? I don’t know how to fix cars, but I certainly could learn. A park ranger could be cool, too. I’d be fine with just sitting around enjoying nature, going on hikes through the woods, and just getting loads of time to daydream and chill. I guess I’ll see in a few years.

S. A random fact about myself: Uhh… *suddenly can’t think of a single darn thing about myself* …Well, I have rhotacism, meaning I can’t quite say my ‘r’s correctly. You can’t really hear it since I have a reasonable substitute for the typical ‘r’, but I can definitely tell whenever I try to roll my ‘r’s…that is, I can’t. Or not without great difficulty, at least. :P

If you’ll allow me to go a little linguist here, the usual ‘r’ sound is an alveolar approximant, pronounced around the same area of the mouth as ‘d’s and ‘l’s are, but I can’t make that sound. Instead, I substitute what I think is a velar or uvular approximant, kind of around where ‘k’s and ‘g’s are pronounced, or perhaps a bit further back. It sounds close enough to the typical ‘r’, so unless I’m talking to a speech therapist or linguist, nobody really notices. I should be happy I was able to substitute like this or else I could’ve have the typical rhotacism tick, y’know, having my ‘r’s sound like ‘w’s. Not that that’s all that bad; it can sound kinda endearing (…I hope).

T. Age I get mistaken for: I…don’t think I’ve even had anyone mistake me for a different age, actually. Maybe it’s ‘cause I don’t go out enough? Either way, I can’t say I’ve been mistaken for older or younger. If someone has, they didn’t tell me, so I wouldn’t know.

X. What would you do if you got three wishes: More inspiration and motivation for all the artists and writers, the universe to realize it’s mistake and chuck a breadbox-sized meteor straight at the head of the dumbass in chief, and for all people to be more understanding of one another so we all can get along a bit better. I think those are some reasonable wishes. :)

Sorry it took a bit to write! I’m only working with one good hand here. Still, many thanks for the questions!