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theeasternempress · 4 years ago

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Sometimes honeysuckle is too sweet

Summary - In a field with some of the sweetest-smelling and most beautiful flowers Din has ever seen, he comes to the heart-crushing realization that he can never have what he so desperately wants.

AO3

Din had no idea how he and his son had ended up in a field of flowers. The pair had been on a walk on some random planet that Din had already forgotten the name of and ended up here.

Looking around the massive field, it seemed as if they were the only ones here, which Din was more than happy about. Even though he found himself to be more social since the child came into his life, he still liked his private time.

The child’s enthusiastic, happy coos at Din’s feet proved he wasn’t the only one who found the flower field pretty. The child looked up at his dad, asking permission with his eyes to run around.

Din replied, “You can play here, but be careful and don’t go too far.”

The child giggled and ran as fast as his little feet could carry him into the flowers. The flowers in this area weren’t too tall, but the child was still so small that the only thing Din could see were a pair of green ears running around wildly. Din laughed to himself at the sight of his little one running around to his heart’s content.

Din leaned himself against a tree and sunk down to the ground so he could stretch out his legs. He’d been sitting peacefully for no more than ten seconds when the child came running up to him with a few small wildflowers in his hand. The child was breathing heavily when he stopped in front of his father, but he still presented his gift with a wide, happy grin.

“Oh, are these for me? Thank you, little one,” Din told the child in a soft voice, reaching out to pluck the flowers from his son’s small hand. The child giggled and clapped his hands before running off again.

He didn’t go far, and Din saw that he was picking more flowers. He made several trips back and forth, each time bringing a handful of flowers to his father, who thanked him and took them gently every time.

When the child returned this time, Din had a small pink flower in his hand for his son. Din presented the flower to his son just as the boy had done to him, and the child cooed happily as he took the small flower in his hands. Instead of holding on to it like his father, the child shoved the head of the flower into his mouth and began chewing on it. Din was quick to break the stem of the flower and then flick the rest of the flower out of his son’s mouth with his finger.

“You aren’t supposed to eat flowers,” Din told his boy. The child pouted for a moment, but was quick to return to his flower picking. Din laughed to himself about how easily distracted his little one was.

The flower picking went on for nearly fifteen minutes and by the end of it, Din’s hands were overflowing with flowers. The child presented him with another handful of flowers and Din calmly spoke, “Thank you, but I think this is more than enough flowers for me. We have to make sure we save some for everyone else.”

The child looked sad for a moment before he brightened up with a smile in his face. Crawling into his father’s lap, he stood up and balanced himself on his father’s thighs and began tucking flowers into the space between Din’s armor and his clothes.

Din was struck silent by the act of his son, but let him continue sticking flowers wherever he pleased until there were no more flowers left. There were flowers jutting out of every piece of armor on his body as well as numerous flowers circling his belt around his waist. In that moment he was thankful there was nobody else around; he doubted he was upholding the typical intimidation of a Mandalorian.

The child beamed up at his father, clearly happy with his work. Din stroked his son’s forehead and ears and said, “Thank you, my boy.”

The child smiled again before reaching one of his hands up to hold his father’s hand against his forehead. Din’s heart skipped a beat at the sweet gesture and rubbed his thumb across his son’s head. Father and son maintained the touch for another minute before the child climbed out of his father’s lap to run back out to the flower field.

Din watched his son with a soft smile on his face. He wished he could preserve moments like this forever and grant his son nothing but a joyful life. Din frowned as he realized that that life would never exist. These sweet, happy moments would only be a glimmer in their lives while the rest was filled with fear and blood. He could never settle down, he could never stop working, and he could never give up the Creed he had dedicated his entire life to. Now, it seemed, he was dedicating his son to the life of a Creed he had never sworn.

But Din had never craved a new life more than since he met his child. He dreamed of a life off of their ship that was constantly falling apart, even though it had been Din’s home for decades. He dreamed of an actual home, a place where he didn’t have to hang a hammock made from old cloth across his already small bedroom to act as a bed for his son. He dreamed of a little cottage on some small, unknown planet. He dreamed of an actual, true home. He dreamed of somewhere safe, somewhere warm.

He could put his armor away and retire so he could create a life that his child deserved. He’d put his son in school and Din would ensure that his son was able to achieve all of his hopes and dreams. They’d have fresh, hot meals every day and Din would spoil his son rotten. Anything and everything his son wanted, he would give to him.

And with retirement, there was nothing that could keep Din away from his boy. They could spend every day, all day together making memories. Din would play with his son until naptime, and then play with him all over again once he woke up. Maybe their cottage would have separate beds, but nothing eased Din’s sleep like having his son at his side.

These, of course, were unachievable dreams. Din knew that. There would be no cottage, no retirement, and no good life. Some days, Din wasn’t even sure if he would be alive. With every day, every bounty, and every mission, Din was putting himself at risk. His biggest fear had always been something happening to his son, but his second biggest fear was something happening to him that would cause his son to be stranded and all alone in a galaxy that had a target fixated on him.

Of all of the wounds and pain Din had experienced, this was by far the worst; knowing that the thing he craved so desperately was unattainable. By swearing the Creed all of those years ago, he had unknowingly doomed himself and the one he loved the most to a life of misery. And that broke Din’s heart.

A resounding sob broke Din from his thoughts, only for Din to realize it had come from him. Hot tears streamed down his cheeks and out of his helmet, dropping down onto the flowers stuffed into his armor. Din smiled through his tears at the flowers, plucking a baby blue one from his cuirass to hold it tight in his hand. His child was happy, and Din knew he would do everything in his power to keep it that way.

Din had no idea how long he had been lost in his thoughts, but it was long enough for the child to slip out of his sight. He looked around desperately, but he saw no green ears that would alert him to his child’s presence.

Din forgot his tears as panic surged in his heart, but a deep breath later and Din had turned on his helmet’s scanner to look for footprints. Sure enough, there were little three-toed footprints embedded in the grass.

The child hadn’t gone very far and when Din found him, he was facing away from him, playing in the grass. The panic that was previously lodged in Din’s heart was replaced with warmth and adoration at the sight of his son.

The panic surged a moment later as Din realized that his child was not playing but shoving handfuls of dirt and grass into his mouth. Din sprung forward to pull the child’s dirty hands out of his mouth. He tried to get the child to spit out the dirt and grass, but it seemed as if he had swallowed all of it.

Din sighed deeply and said, “You aren’t supposed to eat grass and dirt. If you’re hungry, I can give you a snack.”

The child stared blankly at his father while subtly reaching for another handful of grass. Din, of course, saw the child’s movement and grabbed his wrists to stop him. He scooped his son up and began walking back to the ship. The child pouted and whined for a minute, but eventually rested his head on his father’s shoulder and fell asleep.

Maybe Din would never be able to achieve his greatest desire, but he would dedicate his life to these soft moments and keeping his son happy.

#The Mandalorian #baby yoda #din djarin #my writing #Hurt/comfort

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captainpotatoslayer · 5 years ago

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Chapters: 64/? Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Original Female Character(s) Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Bakugou Mitsuki, Bakugou Masaru, Original Female Character(s), Midoriya Izuku, Todoroki Shouto, Yagi Toshinori | All Might Additional Tags: Love, Falling In Love, Angst, Soft Bakugou Katsuki, Slice of Life, Teen Romance, Childhood Trauma, Childhood Friends, Deception, Superpowers, Background Relationships, Character Death, dying, Mental Health Issues, Closely follows original story, Dark elements, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Bullying, mysterious character, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Family Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Elements of poly

Wilted

Akane rolled over in bed, a groan escaping her as she did. She rubbed her arm over her face, able to hear the distant sound of the shower running. As she stretched out across the sheets, she figured it must have been Bakugou already up early and getting ready. She smiled and rolled back over, snuggling into the pillow for a few more minutes.

She had only done so for a moment before she realized that she saw something on the night stand. After raising her head up a bit, she was able to get a better look and her lips curled into a smile. A single, scorched dead dandelion sat on the top. Her heart thundered in her chest as she relaxed back in bed.

So it was Valentines Day today?

It had started as a joke.

But then it became a tradition.

After they finished getting ready and got into their uniforms, Akane was tugging on her boots as she looked at Bakugou who was just minding his own business, putting his shoes on as well. She stepped up behind him and wrapped her arms around his torso, kissing the back of his head. “Happy Valentines Day, Katsu.”

He growled, “Whatever.”

They barely crossed the threshold of the door to school when Sorann jumped up on Akane from behind and grinned, “Good morning!” She swung around in front of her and held her hand out, which had a little package in it. “Here, I have a surprise for you.”

Akane made a face. “Is this Valentines chocolate? Are you confessing to me?”

Bakugou all but snarled in Sorann’s face, trying to push her away. Sorann laughed and danced away from his hand as she dropped the item into Akane’s hands. “Open it! Enjoy!”

Akane cautiously opened the little package, bracing herself for what could be inside. After she unfolded the wrap, her eyes sparkled with happiness. There was a little ball of chocolate in her palm – not quite perfectly round, but still obviously spherical. It was almost as black as midnight and she grinned. “Dark chocolate... my favorite!” She popped it in her mouth and was delightfully surprised when she felt a rush of hot fudge. She let out a massive purr. “Oh that was so damn good. You make these, huh?”

She grinned and stuck her tongue out. “I had help... but yeah. We made them last night.” Dropping her smile she turned to Bakugou and held out another piece. “You too.”

Bakugou snatched it away and shouted, “I don’t want your shitty chocolate, Sor-loser! Get lost!” Despite that, he ripped the paper wrapper open and popped it in his mouth. He glared her dead in the face until he suddenly jumped. His glare intensified. “Pop rocks? Really?” He glared down at his own tongue as they crackled around. “These things are so annoying! What are you, a child?”

Sorann grumbled. “That’s rich, coming from you.” She turned around. “I have a lot of candies to give out and so little time. See you guys later!” She trotted off.

Much more slowly, Bakugou and Akane headed to class. Bakugou marched off to his own desk while Akane made her way to her own, but paused when she saw a few people floating around her desk. She stepped up behind Sero and asked, “What are you guys doing?”

Sero chuckled. “Looks like you have a valentines secret admirer. But they’re not very good at it.”

Mineta fanned his hand from his desk. “The guy clearly doesn’t know the first thing about girls. I mean at least put some effort into the big day.” He looked up at Akane and a determined look floated across his face, his hand clenching. It was good for him though. The worse her other admirers did, the better he was going to look when he pulled his move.

Akane wiggled by them to her desk and her gaze softened.

Another scorched flower – this one a honeysuckle torn from its roots too early. She picked up the flower and her red eyes shimmered with happiness before she gently put the flower away in her bag. “I love it. I think it’s full of personality.”

Sero blinked. “What really?”

Mineta shouted, “That flower looks like it was plucked out of the ground outside the door! After being set on fire! And trampled on!”

Akane giggled, “It probably was.”

Mineta just gaped in confusion.

Todoroki asked, “Don’t girls usually want roses for flowers?”

Akane made a face at him and laughed. “Don’t insult me, Shouto, what part of me is usual?”

He couldn’t help but smile and laugh along. “You’re right. My apologies.”

She smiled more before sitting down in her seat. With her chin in her hand, her gaze went across the front row until it fell on the back of her favorite blonde head. He glanced at her for only a moment before looking back straight ahead.

At lunch, Akane smiled when she saw Sorann going around, giving chocolates out to everyone. Each piece had it’s own unique touch for them. That girl was truly something special, always going out of her way for others. The gesture was just so sweet.

But behind her, trouble was brewing.

Monoma and Tetsutetsu were standing shoulder to shoulder, looking at class 1-A. Monoma asked, “Which one is her?”

Tetsutetsu pointed to Akane. “Black hair and red eyes according to Kirishima, so that’s gotta be her.” Confused he asked, “But why did you wanna know?” He paused. “You’re not gonna cause trouble are you? If you do, Kendo is gonna stress out.”

Monoma fanned his hand. “Don’t worry about a thing. This will all be worth it. Thanks for your help, Tetsutetsu. Now sit back and enjoy the show.”

Tetsutetsu frowned. “I don’t like the sound of this.”

Akane started eating her lunch when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned and looked up to see Class 1-B's notorious trouble maker was standing behind her. “Monoma?”

He smiled at her, brushing his bangs back as leaned forward. “Hello, Akane.” He had a not so descreetly hidden boquet of roses behind his back. “Today is the day of confessions, is it not?”

“Uh...” Akane hummed in confusion. “If you’re saying that cause of Valentine’s Day then you’re not wrong but... what are you doing?”

Monoma smiled as he held the roses in front of him and stated, “I’d like to confess. I’ve had a crush on you since the moment I met you. Your beauty resonates through my mind and I see your glowing smile even when I close my eyes.”

Akane slurped up her noodles. “You get that out of a book?”

Sero and Kaminari who were sitting across from her both straightened up and tensed. Sero quickly stated, “Uh... man that’s a bad idea.”

Kaminari squeaked, “Oh shit, he’s coming.”

Akane sighed heavily and sat up. “Monoma, I would highly suggest that you quit while you’re behind.”

Monoma’s grin grew bigger when he heard a furious growl behind him. He spun around and fanned his hands out. “Excuse me, Bakugou. But I’m busy.”

His head was tipped up, veins popping all over his forehead, his lip curled in a heated snarl and his eyes narrowed in rage. “The fuck do you think you’re doing you son of a bitch?”

Monoma blinked, feigning innocence. “What do you mean? I’m just minding my own business, trying to confess my love to this beautiful woman.” His face suddenly contorted into a knowing, challenging glare. “Does that bother you?”

Bakugou glared at the flowers in his hand and shouted, “Get the fuck away from her you bastard! You can’t confess to her, she’s my girlfriend!”

He fake gasped, “She is!? I had no idea.”

Bakugou stepped up to him. “You knew you damn liar... want me to blow your god damn face off?”

Monoma challenged, “I dare you to try Mr.Hero. But I think you’re overreacting a bit. But make sure you fight me in front of all the teachers and let them know you did it just cause I was giving a girl flowers.”

Bakugou set his tray of food down and both of his hands crackled with explosions. “You bastard... that’s it...! I’m gonna fucking kill you...!”

Akane jumped up, raising her hands as she stood between them, her back to Monoma and she pressed Bakugou back a step. “Katsu, enough. Don’t play his game. You’re better than that.”

Sero laughed, “Yeah and both of you are better than the loser who’s dropping off dead flowers.”

Monoma looked back at him. “Dead flowers? Mine was as a joke but at least I put in effort... jeez.”

Akane frowned and Bakugou snapped, “Fuck you extras.” He grabbed his tray and marched off elsewhere.

Akane sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. “Katsu...”

“Iida, Uraraka!”

Sorann glowed happily when she finally caught up to a couple of her classmates as they returned from lunch. “Here, happy Valentines day.”

“Are these chocolates?” Iida gasped. “How thoughtful of you!” He clenched his hand into a fist. “I as the president should have thought of such a selfless thing to share with my fellow students.”

Uraraka laughed. “Calm down Iida, I don’t think anyone’s expecting it. Normally you only give chocolates to your crush – so Sorann is going really above and beyond expectations.”

She smiled. “I just really wanted to do it. I appreciate all of you guys and you really make me feel happy to come to school. Plus, all of you have such fun characteristics so it was really enjoyable to come up with specialized chocolates for each of you.”

Iida gasped, “They’re unique?”

“Yeah!” Sorann exclaimed.

Iida eagerly opened his and looked at the piece of square chocolate and analyzed it for several moments. “I... don’t see it.”

Sorann laughed softly. “Yours is a plain milk chocolate square. A fundamental piece of chocolate that follows all the rules.”

His gaze brightened at this. “It’s perfect. How thoughtful. Thank you, Sorann!”

Uraraka quickly followed suit and unwrapped hers as Iida ate his chocoalte. Hers was a simple ball of chocolate and she asked, “And mine...?”

Sorann smiled. “You have to eat yours.”

She did and a moment later, she let out a scream of delight. “Red bean paste! So yummy! Thank youuu!!” She wrapped her friend in a big hug.

She hugged back but quickly trotted to the back of class when she saw that Todoroki had just reached his desk. Sorann told him, “Todoroki...! Here!” She went to get his chocolate but stopped when she noticed him staring at Akane.

Akane had just sat down and opened her book, but a couple of the dead flowers were between the pages she was flipping to. Her fingers ran along the charred stems before she put them into her backpack as well.

Todoroki frowned and asked Sorann. “Do you know anything about those dead flowers?”

Sorann shook her head. “Nope.”

“Do they mean something?” He asked, a concerned edge to his voice.

“Hm... let’s see.” Sorann pulled her phone out with her other hand and started searching. After a moment, she read aloud, “Withered, wilted or dead flowers have a negative connotation in expression, or if the flowers are presented upside down, then it conveys the opposite of its original meaning. Maybe someone is harassing her?” Her frown deepened. “I should talk to her about it.”

Todoroki shook his head. “I don’t think that’s what it could be. She seemed really happy about the one she got this morning. But they’re everywhere. I think I’ve seen her get at least 5 or 6.”

“I’ll ask her about them.” Sorann stated. “After class though.” She smirked at him. “Are you getting jealous, Todoroki?”

He blinked. “What... no...I just... am curious.”

Momo had just come into the classroom as well and looked up to see that Todoroki and Sorann were talking. She felt her heart start to pound in her chest. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a small box that had her own chocolate in it as she looked up at Todoroki. Taking a deep breath, she braced herself as she stepped forward so she could speak with him next, but her eyes widened when she saw Sorann hand over a piece of chocolate to him.

He questioned, “What’s this?”

Sorann laughed. “It’s Valentine’s Day. It’s chocolate.”

“Why do... I get chocolate?” He asked.

Momo looked down and put her box back into her bag, hurrying by the two of them to her desk.

Sorann giggled, “I made some for everyone. Try yours!”

Todoroki took a bite and mulled over it for a bit before he asked, “It’s... part mint...part...” He made a face as he was trying to figure it out.

She answered, “Mexican chocolate. It’s got cinnamon in it.”

He smiled. “I see. Thank you.”

She gleefully told him, “You’re welcome!”

At the end of PE for the day, Ashido was pointing her finger at Jiroh and scolding, “I think you need to stop lying to yourself or you’re never gonna get anywhere.”

Jiroh snapped back, “There’s nowhere to get. You’re full of crap and that’s it!”

Asui joined, “I dunno, you’re denying it awfully hard.”

“Because it’s not true!” Jiroh yelled.

Sorann finished pulling her clothes on and walked over to them. “What are you guys arguing about?”

Ashido grinned, “Jiroh didn’t make any chocolate for her crush.”

Jiroh shouted, “I don’t have one!”

“Who is it?” Sorann asked eagerly.

“No one!” Jiroh seethed.

Asui answered, “Kaminari.”

Jiroh argued, “He’s a total idiot! Why would I like anything about him!?”

“He makes you laugh.” Ashido sang.

“He makes everyone laugh with his stupidity.” Jiroh growled. She quickly finished up and shut her locker door. “Forget it, I’m not arguing this anymore...!” She quickly trotted after Momo and joined her walking out.

Sorann grinned at the other two. “You’re so right. Definitely likes him.”

They nodded.

She grabbed a couple pieces of chocolate. “But I’ve got treats for you...!”

Ashido squealed and broke hers open, “Mines pink!”

Asui whined happily. “It’s shaped like a frog...! It’s so cute Sorann! Thanks!”

The two of them were about to head out when Akane walked up to her locker and pulled out her bag, but several dead flowers fell out of it.

Sorann tensed up. All three of them watched intently to see what Akane would do.

She giggled softly while reaching down and picking up the bundle of flowers.

Gasping, all three girls flew up to her. Sorann asked, “Who gave you the flowers?”

Ashido screamed, “Yeah Akane, who is the secret admirer!?”

Akane blinked. “Secret admirer? I don’t know. But these flowers are from Katsu.”

Ashido stared for several seconds before her arms dropped. “You can’t be serious. He’s your boyfriend and he’s giving you destroyed flowers?”

Akane’s gaze was warm. “Maybe it doesn’t make sense to anyone else but...it’s our thing.”

“Huh...” Ashido mumbled. “Weird.”

Asui looked up at her. “I just figured it was lazy since he didn’t think he needed to win her over anymore since they’re already dating. That does seem like a Bakugou thing, right?”

Ashido put her finger to her cheek. “Maybe... I dunno. He’s big on being number one...”

Akane chuckled. “Don’t bust brain cells, alright? Its our thing and that’s all that matters.”

Sorann watched as Akane headed out with a big smile on her face. Her heart warmed at the knowledge that her friend was so happy – no matter what the reason was. But now that the others were gone, a deeper emotion filled her face. She hoped, however the future played out, that she would keep smiling just like that.

At the end of the school day, Sorann all but jumped over her desk and wrapped her arms around Midoriya and Kirishima, bringing them both in as she hugged them tight. “Alright, you guys are my last chocolates. I was saving you for the end.”

Kirishima was confused as he looked at her, “You made a chocolate for me? When?”

“After you left.” Sorann assured. She placed a small bag in Kirishima’s hands and then a single heart shaped chocolate in Midoriya’s.

Immediately Midoriya’s face lit up like a firework. “I’ve never... gotten a chocolate from a g-girl before...” He paused. “But these are... for the whole class right? So it’s just... friendship chocolate?”

Sorann grinned at him like she was up to no good. “Yours is the only one shaped like a heart, Deku.”

This made his face turn even more red and he nearly went weak in the knees and collapsed. Despite this, Sorann squeezed his arms and gleefully encouraged, “Go on, open it.”

Kirishima smiled at the two of them but his stomach was in knots. The night before, Sorann had text him asking about recipes for chocolate and he had helped her through the phone for a while but ended up coming over and helping her make everyones chocolate. He had enjoyed every moment of it and it seemed like she did too. So he felt silly for having hoped that maybe it meant there was something between them.

But now, standing there, seeing how her eyes affectionately watched Midoriya, he was more certain than ever of his status as her friend – only her friend. Opening up the bag she had given him as well, his face warmed.

Midoriya popped the chocolate in his mouth and grinned. “Chocolate chip mint? It’s so sweet, too! You did amazing!”

Sorann’s eyes sparkled. “I made extras, too. So you can have more if you really liked it. I made a whole batch just for you.”

Now Midoriya’s eyes were twinkling.

Sorann turned to Kirishima and smiled at him. Just seeing that glow made his own smile fill his face from ear to ear. She asked, “What do you think?”

Kirishima popped a couple of his treats in his mouth. “Chocolate covered coffee beans. Delicious. Just what I need for my workouts.”

“I’m so happy you like them!” She took their hands. “Guys wanna celebrate Valentines Day by going for dinner? My treat.”

Midoriya gasped, “But shouldn’t the guy pay?”

“Don’t be so old school. I wanna do this.” She grinned.

“If you insist.” Midoriya agreed. “But then let me pay next time.”

“Okay, sounds fair!” She sang as she prodded them out.

Akane was slower packing up her bag than normal. She kept pausing to smile at the pile of dead flowers that were floating around with her books.

When Todoroki noticed her hesitation, he decided to take his chance. “Akane. Can I ask? About the flowers?” When Akane looked confused, he explained, “I overheard Ashido talking to Kaminari and Sero saying that the flowers were actually from Bakugou. But. He’s not a total idiot. Why would he give you...such garbage flowers?”

Akane’s gaze softened and she giggled softly. “Do you have time? Come with me.”

“Isn’t - “ Todoroki stopped and looked around, seeing that no one was left in class – not even Bakugou. “Bakugou didn’t wait? Isn’t it - “

Akane took his hand. “Just come on.” She led him out of school, onto the subway, and to the park where they had first met. But instead of going into the park, she pulled him along behind the fence and pushes that surrounded it. To their right was the play ground and wooded area where Akane had been found as a child, but in front of them, on the other side of the fence, was a large open field where kids would play soccer, football, or any games their heart desired.

But today, this moment, Bakugou was standing in that field. He threw his hand out, creating several light explosions that blew up the flowers and sent them fluttering around in the air. He caught several of them, collecting them up in a bundle.

Todoroki blinked, “He’s... blowing them up on purpose?”

“That’s right.” Akane answered. “All of those flowers he gives me are from this field. But there’s a story why.”

Bakugou kicked a ball around, showing his moves off to Midoriya and couple other kids. As he was doing that, a few more came rushing up.

Akane was sitting at the bottom of the slide, listening to them as she drew pictures in the sand.

“Hey Kacchan! Guess what we heard!” They yelled.

Bakugou was thrown off his game and missed catching the ball with his foot. He shouted at them, “Way to screw me up guys!”

All of them were about five years old.

The boys begged forgiveness before carrying on. “My mom said that today is Valentines day or something!”

Bakugou huffed. “Yeah? So what?”

“So...! Mom said that you’re supposed to give girls flowers and confessions!” They explained. They then held up a ton of flowers they plucked from the nearby field.

Bakugou grumbled. “I’m not a girl you idiots.”

“Not for you!” They stated before brushing by and taking them to Akane.

Akane blinked in surprise at the flowers being shoved in her face. The first guy stated, “I ate a worm once!”

The other, “I didn’t do my homework one day so I told my teacher my dog ate it!”

Bakugou erupted between them, setting off a couple explosions, “What are you two idiots doing!?”

“We just told you...!” They argued.

Bakugou snarled, “Well you can’t give them to Akane! Find another girl!”

“Whyyyy?” They pleaded. ��We don’t know any of the other girls!”

“I don’t care!” He seethed. He yanked the flowers out of their hands. “None of you are giving Akane the flowers.” He blew them up.

Akane pouted at Bakugou. “Katsu...!”

The guys fanned their hands. “No worries. There’s more over there.” They hurried back to the field.

They didn’t get very far before Bakugou grabbed them both by the backs of their shirts and yanked them back. He stormed ahead and then started blowing up all the flowers in the field. “I’ll show you guys! I’ll just blow up every single flower there is!”

The guys sighed and groaned. One of them rubbed their head. “Man... Kacchan is too harsh. We just wanted to have fun.”

Akane watched them head off before she walked to the edge of the playground and glared at Bakugou as he continued his raid on the field. Akane shouted over his explosions, “Katsuuu!!!”

He glared at her, “What!?”

She demaned, “Why couldn’t they give me flowers?”

He huffed, “Because no one can give you flowers!”

“Why!?”

He grumbled more quietly, “Cause it means they like you and I don’t like that...”

Akane puffed her cheeks. “Well I wanted to get flowers! If I’m supposed to get flowers on Valentines Day then I want them!”

“Then only I can give them to you.” He shouted, yanking up a couple of the exploded flowers and shoving them into her hands. “Here’s your flowers! Happy? If you want flowers, then you’ll get flowers! But I’ll get them! Don’t accept them from anyone else.”

Akane stared at the broken, dead flowers in her hands and suddenly a silly smile came to her lips. “I like them best when you give them to me, anyway...”

He blinked and his cheeks turned rosey at the sight of that bright smile.

In that moment he knew that he would have to make sure to get her flowers every single year on that day so he could see that joyful look on her face.

“Um...” Todoroki mumbled.

Akane giggled, “It doesn’t make sense to you, huh?” Her gaze softened as she watched Bakugou continue to collect up flowers. “There’s significance to us. At least to me and I think he notices that. What I mean is...in that story... maybe he sounds like an asshole to anyone who hears it. But to me... that was my first sight of jealous Katsu...and to keep my attention on him, he decided that he would be the one to give me flowers. Simply because it’s what I wanted. To me... my interpretation...was that he would give me what he could... even if it was broken and damage...he was going to give it to me.”

Todoroki’s eyes widened a bit.

“The year after that...” Akane stated, “He collected up flowers and asked me to meet him here on the playground. He jokingly gave me the exploded ones...but...I loved it. I told him that they were just how I liked them. Then after that...I got these blown up flowers every day all day on Valentines Day. He’s never forgotten...and never even complains. So it’s become a tradition. One that I’m actually pretty fond of. The two of us aren’t some... fairy tale couple and we don’t pretend to be. But... we are two kids madly in love...He’s always trying to prove himself to me... and I to him. So it’s fine that... no one else understands the flower thing. I don’t need anyone to.”

Todoroki’s gaze softened. “The two of you... continue to impress me. You both... understand everything about each other...and your feelings surprass anything I thought possible. I’m... insanely jealous of Bakugou.”

She offered him a sad smile. “Sorry Sho-kun.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be. I can see... in moments like this...where he actually understands what makes you happy where no one else can. The two of you are good together.” He placed his hand on her back and tipped his head. “I’m going to head home, then. I hope you have a good evening. Happy Valentines’ Day.”

Akane nodded her head. “You too. Are you going to see your mom?”

“Yes.”

“Tell her hi for me. Take care.”

After Todoroki left, she made her way around the fence and shed her backpack at the edge of the playground with Bakugou’s. She trotted along the playground until she to the field where Bakugou turned and faced her.

She smiled, “Sorry I’m late.”

He grumbled, “Thought maybe you’d forgotten...”

“How could I forget?” She asked. “It’s my favorite tradition!”

His eyes widened a bit before looking away. “I wasn’t sure...if since we’re a couple now... I was supposed to do some of those stupid sappy things like chocolates or stuffed bears or whatever the fuck they’re supposed to do.”

Akane tipped her head. “I thought you said yourself that we’d actually been a couple this whole time?”

He shouted, “Of course we have! But it’s more... official now or whatever!”

She hummed. “That’s true.” She stepped up to him and tipped her head up so their foreheads could come together. The second she did, the growling in his throat stopped and he seemed to relax. She assured, “I don’t want things to be different as a couple. I love the way our relationship is – the teasing, taunting, play fighting, all of it. And your flowers are perfect...”

He huffed. “Well if you ever get sick of it... tell me. Cause I’m gonna keep doing it otherwise.”

“I’ll let you know if that day ever comes.” She started to lean up to kiss him but instead, he gently pushed her back a step.

He held out the boquet of dead flowers and looked away, his cheeks pink all the way to his ears. “H-Happy Valentines’ Day...and I... love you... or... wh-whatever...”

Akane giggled and brightly at him. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the flowers he’d given her throughout the day and showed him that she strung them together like a tiara of wilted flowers. She placed it on her head before taking the boquet. “I love you more than anything, Katsuki Bakugou. Always be my Valentine, okay?”

“Yeah whatever...” He growled.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and jumped into his arms, kissing him suddenly and passionately. His arms wrapped around her waist, holding her up to him as he carried her to the swings where they spent their evening talking and eating snacks like they did every year.

Every year that sat in front of the spot where he had found her and saved her life the first time.

Where he had given her everything she had now.

When her Valentine had first become her hero.

#mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugo #bakugou #katsuki #fanfic #fanfiction

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whatdoyouthinkmyjobis · 6 years ago

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Hunters on the Hellmouth

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AN: Originally, Hunters on the Hellmouth was 42 chapters, but I decided to cut the final chapter in two. Inspired by events in BTVS 7.21 “End of Days,” SPN 5.19 “Hammer of the Gods,” SPN 5.20 “The Devil You Know,” and SPN 5.21 “Two Minutes to Midnight.” Here’s a cheat sheet for keeping track of the Potentials. Warning: Character death.

Chapter 42: A Thing with Feathers

The flowers stung Bobby. In movies, the end of the world meant a barren wasteland of ash and rock, skeletal trees, failed crops. In reality -- both in Sunnydale and Sioux Falls -- nature plugged along without a care for who was living or dying. Dandelions mocked sidewalks. Manicured lawns turned into thickets. Honeysuckle and morning glories swallowed the houses.

Karen’s flower beds had never grown back though. One spring in a fit of guilt, Bobby had even tried to restore them, but his own personal Apocalypse was too complete for nature.

The new, modern building before him had several blacked out windows and overgrown flower beds. The vampires inside probably weren’t interested in gardening, yet they’d still shown more of a green thumb than Bobby. The question was: How many vampires could the building hold?

Robin Wood stroked his goatee. “We ran around eight hundred students, plus staff.”

“Give or take a massacre,” Buffy added.

Bobby snorted, half amused, half horrified. Sunnydale High: a school on a Devil’s Gate.

“That don’t mean anythin’.” Bobby adjusted his cap to keep the sun out of his eyes. “That’s all crowd control and student-teacher ratios. Question is, how much space do vampires need? And how much shit will they put up with for Lucifer?”

Bobby had been busy since his boys took off. He had a whole new world to learn about after all, and Giles, Willow and the rest and proved themselves virtual libraries of information.

Thankfully, the street went two ways. Bobby had experimented with a few of his own monster-hunting tricks from back home. The things he’d learned would be useful in the upcoming battle. Not to mention, the several houses they’d taken over needed constant repairs, and his construction and engineering experience far outstripped that of Xander Harris.

So it was that Bobby found himself seriously considering blowing up a high school. “If this seal is all the way down in the basement with as many twists and turns as you say, there’s no way we can bend the sunlight inside.” Xander’s plan. “Daylight lamps would be a fool’s gamble. Best plan is to either cut a hole in the roof or blow the whole damn thing up.”

“Might as well,” Robin sighed. “If the board ever reconvenes, I’m pretty sure they’re firing my ass.”

“There’s no way they can blame you for this,” said Buffy.

The principal offered her an unconvincing smile. “You underestimate the power of bureaucracy. Someone is going to have to take the fall for this. When you blew up the last school, they simultaneously blamed it on a gas leak, shoddy wiring, and ‘the poor leadership of Principal Snyder.’”

When you blew up the last school.

Bobby knew his first impressions of Buffy -- lovesick and worried -- weren’t her whole identity. When Dean had looked at her, love melted his features, erasing the hard edge years of hunting had cut into him. With each passing day, Bobby saw that Buffy was fearless. She was decisive. And unlike most hunters he knew, Buffy was overflowing with love and connections.

Bobby’s lips curled into a smile. If they could close this Devil’s Gate, if they could trap Lucifer and Michael, if they won, his boy could have a happily ever after.

Assuming Dean came back.

It was like riding a comet, teeth-rattling at speeds that threatened to peel skin from bone. When the Winchesters landed, rolling across the overgrown Sunnydale lawns, Cas was already glowing, fissures of pale blue light criss-crossing his skin.

“Run!” the angel warned.

The brothers bolted toward Buffy’s little white house, some of the Potentials already streaming out to greet them.

“Get back inside!” Dean screamed. “He’s gonna blow!”

Dean took the downstairs, Sam the up, where they yanked people to the floor, shouting, “Cover your ears! Don’t look!”

A blinding light filled the house. Dean squeezed his eyes shut. Then a boom rattled the house, cracking a few windows.

“Everybody okay?” Dean asked as he got up from the floor.

“They’re alive!”

“Sam and Dean are back!”

“They killed Death!”

Ellen barreled out of the kitchen, eyes already wet with tears. “Don't scare me like that, boy.” She squeezed Dean then smacked him in the chest. “I came back to life, and then you took off without a how-do-you-do.”

“Good to see you, too, Ellen. Sam’s upstairs if you wanna slap him around.”

She smiled slyly and dropped her voice to a whisper. “And what the hell is this about you of all people havin’ a girlfriend?”

“Speaking of, where’s Buffy?” he asked, looking around.

“Out doing her hero thing. She’s a catch.”

He grinned. “I know.”

The smile faded quickly, however, as Dean headed outside, hoping against hope that the explosion hadn’t meant what he knew it meant.

He didn’t get very far before the sight of her stopped him in his tracks. She was across the street, eyes locked on him. All blonde hair, attitude, and a winning smile.

Jo Harvelle.

She bounded over to him, her smile growing ever brighter with each step, but she stopped just short of his reach. “Hey.” Jo looked him up and down. “You’re alive!”

“Same to you,” he said, giving her a bear hug.

Before she let go, Dawn, Xander and several Potentials piled on. Sam was the center of a similar hive lead by Willow and Giles. It was good to be back in Sunnydale, back in the packed house, back around his chosen family.

But the trip had not been free. Dean, Sam, and a curious entourage headed down the street where a block of houses were leveled. Those nearby were peppered with shrapnel, the windows broken, shingles missing. In the middle of it all, a red spot stained the street.

Giles inspected the mess before asking the Winchesters in a soft voice, “Is that your angel friend?”

“Technically, no,” said Sam. He pursed his lips as he surveyed the remains. “Cas used all of his energy to bring us here and, I guess, had nothing left to maintain his vessel. That, uh, spot was Jimmy Novak. Cas is somewhere in the ether.”

“The pretty angel is dead?!” one of the Potentials wailed.

Pretty? “No,” Dean said, needing to hear himself say it, “Castiel is fine. He just doesn’t have a vessel anymore.”

“Not much ‘elp as angel dust though.” Spike, not a part of the warm welcome crew, had quietly joined the crowd around the stain in the street. Lower, so only Dean could hear, Spike added, “I’ll take care of this. You’ve dealt with enough bodies.”

“Thanks,” Dean said. It felt wrong somehow, though. His friend, Castiel, was fine. Dean knew that in his gut. Jimmy Novak was a stranger. Another stranger who’d died helping him fight the fight. “We can burn the remains. Give Jimmy a proper hunter’s funeral.”

“Whatever you want, mate.”

“What about the Trickster?” asked Ellen.

“Dead,” said Dean.

Lucifer had found a crack between worlds he could slip through, though not with a vessel. The markings on their ribs broken, the Winchesters had been easy to track. Cas had fixed their warding, but it was too late. Lucifer was there in some Indiana no-tell motel slaughtering gods and angels alike. Though they were no longer trackable, Dean had no doubt Lucifer would soon be returning to his new playground in search of them.

“But you did the thing, right?” asked Spike. “You went to Mordor to get the rings?”

Andrew held up a finger in protest. “That’s not how --”

“Shut up,” Spike said.

Dean plucked two rings from his pocket and tossed them to Giles. “Collected all four.”

Willow leaned in by Giles and inspected the rings. “Huh, I expected some more all-powerful pizazz,” she said to no one.

Giles dropped the rings in Willow’s outstretched hands. Her hand immediately sizzled. She screamed and dropped them. “Power’s definitely on,” she said through gritted teeth.

Giles picked up the rings in a handkerchief. “Gabriel’s plan was to get the rings, allowing us to reopen Lucifer’s cage, correct?”

The Winchesters nodded.

“What’s the lure for our trap?” he continued.

“That’s the million dollar, life-or-death question,” Sam replied.

Robin slowed his car when they turned onto Revello Drive, now ground zero for an explosion. A cluster of people gathered in the street around what must have caused the blast.

Buffy bolted before the car stopped.

He was there. Tall and handsome as ever, standing on the edge of whatever was going on. Joy welled up inside her. Buffy was too choked up to even call his name.

Dean looked up and ran to her, picking her up as she leapt into his arms. She wrapped her legs around him, his strong arms cradling her thighs as she planted a kiss on his beautiful mouth. In his arms, she felt like they doubled, tripled in size to contain all the feelings tripping from her lips to his. They grew until they were giants. They grew until the world shrank away, all worries, all demands, all destinies became less than grains of sand. Cradling his face in her hands, she tore herself away for air and got lost in his mossy green eyes.

“Hey Girly,” he said softly.

She kissed him again, drunk on the sweet sting of his whiskey mouth, until someone coughed loudly behind them.

“Okay, lovebirds, other people here,” said Bobby.

Dean set Buffy down, keeping one arm around her while pulling in Bobby for a three-way hug.

“Um, so what happened here?” she asked, noticing the red smear on the pavement for the first time.

“Cas blew his vessel,” Dean said, somberly.

“Oh God!” She covered her mouth in shock.

“But Cas is fine,” he added, hurriedly. “He’s fine.”

Bobby furrowed his brow at the mess. “We should pick up what we can. Give him a real hunter’s funeral.”

Dean nodded. “That’s what I said. Spike offered to deal with this.” He gestured at the spot.

That seemed odd for Spike, who Buffy spied milling on the edge of the circle looking every direction but theirs. Maybe he’d bonded some with the angel, but that seemed unlikely, too. It struck her that she didn’t know who he talked to lately. Her, yes. She thought she’d seen him talking with the Harvelle’s a few times. With Sam gone, was there anyone else Spike felt comfortable with?

She hadn’t noticed that the the crowd had started moving back toward her house. She leaned into Dean, taking in his gunpowder and leather scent, listening to his small talk with Bobby.

Then somebody screamed.

They group rushed over to a brick house, one of their several expanded homebases. On the sidewalk lay one of the girls, eyes burned in their sockets.

“Steph wanted to see an angel,” one of the girls said through tears.

“I got it!” Jo shooed away the rubber-neckers. “We'll do a service tonight before sunset. You all know the drill.”

“You need a hand?” Sam asked. The Winchesters had cleaned up every other body.

“Nah, you guys go. Tell your story. I'll catch up. Besides, she's from my house.” There was something stiff about Jo's smile.

No one else wanted to volunteer for body clean up, so the whole group left Jo and Spike to their grizzly task.

Two bodies -- one of which had basically turned to goo -- weren’t the most appetizing site; nonetheless, Andrew had just pulled the last pizzas from the oven when the Winchesters returned. Soon, the somber attitude of fresh deaths melted to a buzz of excitement as everyone waited for the Winchesters to stop eating and tell their story.

Buffy surveyed the options in the kitchen. “Is it all pepperoni?”

“It never goes bad!” Xander said around a mouth full.

Anya patted him on the shoulder. “Yes it does.”

“Can you let me have this?” he begged through a spray of food.

“Ellen, my new Jedi master, and I made them,” said Andrew. “She has dough powers. Anyway, I insisted on cheese. It’s in the living room.”

“SAM’S GOING TO TELL THE PESTILENCE STORY!” someone shouted from the dining room.

Buffy held still as a rush of people flowed around her. Once the crowd slowed, she ducked into the living room, where Dean sat at the study table with a plate full of pizza.

“First, you need to know about the Croatoan virus…” Sam began.

She sat beside Dean, hand on his leg, head on his shoulder. He leaned into her, their bodies humming. Buffy wanted to tell him a thousand things: how she’d killed Caleb, how Lucifer had invaded her dreams, how much her heart ached in his absence. Sitting beside him, a comfortable smile curling his lips, none of it felt pressing.

They listened to Sam in the other room, his bilious tale of swine flu bewitching the crowd. “So we’re on the floor, writhing with who knows how many illness, and --”

“Which illnesses?” Xander asked.

Sam mumbled and continued with the story.

“Did Pestilence give you an std?” Buffy whispered to Dean.

“Clean bill of health, I swear.” Dean took another bite of pizza.

“Dean!” the crowd in the dining room called.

“Everybody wants to hear the Death story,” Sam added.

Taking his hand in hers, Dean smiled at Buffy. Together, they walked toward the eager audience. “You tell it,” Dean said, grabbing a slice of cheese pizza.

Sam shook his head. “I wasn’t there. Besides, I already told the Pestilence story.”

“So cool,” said one of the Potentials, smiling and bobbing on her toes.

“Ew gross,” whined another, who had nonetheless pressed in with the rest to hear the story.

Grinning playfully, Buffy tilted her head to the side. “Did he have a robe and scythe, or was he more stylish?”

“Suit,” Dean replied. “So this big storm was brewing. We’re talkin’ black skies at noon. Hail. The whole nine. And it was about to wipe out Chicago.”

“Nooo, not my Chitown,” gasped Margo.

“Death was there...eating pizza.”

Several people put their slices down.

“Death likes pizza?” asked Maya, eyebrow raised in disbelief.

“Deep dish,” Dean replied.

“The only proper pizza,” added Margo.

“I didn’t even get a chance to use the weapon Gabriel gave me, but lucky me, Death ain’t a fan of having Lucifer yankin’ his chain. He gave me his ring and spared the city. Equal parts easy and terrifying.” Dean turned to Buffy and said in a clear voice, “He says, ‘Hello,’ by the way. Apparently Death’s a fan of your work.”

Buffy grinned. She wasn’t surprised Death knew her; their work was tied together. Creatures of the night spoke her name in a hushed whisper as if she could be right around the corner, but she was in a house full of naive children who had mutinied right before Dean had left. He wanted the audience to know she had Death’s respect.

“The end. Go frolic or stab things or whatever kids are into these days,” Dean said with a dismissive wave to the groans of the crowd. Leaning over Sam’s chair, he whispered, “Where’s the bag?”

Sam pointed to an army duffle by the stairs.

Turning back to Buffy, Dean asked “You wanna take a walk?”

Lacing her fingers with his, she replied, “I’d like that.”

Boyish glee shone from Dean’s face. “See ya, Sammy. Don’t wait up.”

Jo patted Steph’s cold body, wrapped in a sheet, and resting in the back of a hotwired pickup. “Was it worth it, kid?”

Slamming the tailgate shut, she noticed Buffy and Dean leaving the house hand in hand. She turned away. Down the street Spike was shoveling spades full of goo into a bucket. It looked like he was talking to himself. Deciding he needed company, Jo headed his way.

With nothing better to do than drive herself crazy over facing the Apocalypse again, Jo had bided her time in Sunnydale, getting to know its few remaining residents. Aside from goddess vessels, (Willow the Witch frankly freaked her out,) and goddess vessels-in-waiting, there were a few bonafide hunters in the mix.

First, there was the how-are-they-still-alive camp. Andrew, who mystifyingly claimed to be Buffy’s former arch nemesis, had promptly started following her mom around like a puppy. Then there was affable, goofy Xander and his indifferent-to-the-whole-thing ex Anya.

One the other hand, there were the more serious hunters. Giles was Sunnydale’s answer to the previously unthought question, “What if Bobby were refined?” Jo liked to listen to them talk shop. They were even funnier together when she kept their glasses topped. The son of a previous Slayer, Robin Wood reminded her most of hunters back home -- quiet, focused, reluctant to be with the group. Of course, he looked like a downright social butterfly next to Spike.

Spike -- a great fighter and keen researcher -- was doing that self-imposed hunter-in-exile thing. Keep people at arms length because their damage is special damage. At least that’s how it looked to Jo. Dawn had admitted, “He used to be a friend, but… he got ugly for a while. Evil. I know he’s changed, but the hurt is still there.”

Hurt or no hurt. Damage or no damage. It seemed to Jo that the whole crew should be using Spike’s skills better.

He did, however, talk to Jo. He was funny and sweet with this gentlemanly air under his rock and roll shell. They’d spent more than one evening joking over a bottle of wine, measuring their new life in sips. They were two creatures newly reborn, teetering on the edge of extinction.

Then there was the rumor that Spike was Buffy’s ex.

Spike was still talking to himself. “--let me teach it to you. It starts, ‘’ope is a thing with feathers.’ (See the irony?)” He sploshed another small piece of Cas’ vessel into the bucket.

“Maybe you need a wet vac?” Jo said.

He looked up at her, not even a hint of surprise on his face. “Thought you’d be a bit more broken up about your friend.”

“Castiel? I didn’t really know him,” she confessed. “I'm more of a poltergeist girl. This angel business is way above my pay grade.”

“Castiel was good, especially for a bleedin’ angel.” Spike stood and stretched, his white t-shirt popping up over his belt. “But this wasn’t Feathers, at least according to the Winchesters. Just the body. Angel’s in the wind.”

Spike surveyed his work. The street was still stained red, but at least the chunky bits were gone. He made a face at the contents of the bucket, then began to search the grass.

“I didn’t realize you ‘ad it so bad.” He shot her a glance, his mouth upturned into a knowing grin.

Jo felt her cheeks flushing hot. “Got what bad?”

“I saw you rush out of your ‘ouse, ‘ot and ‘eavy to see Dean Winchester again. I knew you ‘ad a crush, but not the ache.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said in a rush. She felt like he could see through her.

Spike cocked his head to the side. “Come now. We didn’t volunteer for body duty out respect for the dead. Warm corpses ‘ave more appeal right now than watching your ex in someone else’s arms.”

“Dean's just a friend.” Her voice modulated oddly to cover the lie.

Spike shrugged. “Tell yourself what you want, pet, but the pining will eat you alive.”

Jo pounced on the opportunity to turn the tables. “Like you pining for Buffy?”

“I'd like to think I'm past pining. Buffy needs me like the Titanic needs an iceberg.”

Jo bit back a laugh at his self-importance. What is it with men? “If you’re her iceberg, does that make Dean her James Cameron?”

“There was so much room on that bloody door!” Spike said with the earnestness of a true fan.

“Near! Far! Whereeeeeeeeever you are!” Jo sang loud and off-key.

“God dammit, woman!” Spike threw his spade into the grass. “Now you’ve given me the earworm!”

She laughed. On his own, Spike was easy to talk to. In fact, he was downright fun -- a rarity among hunters. His personality didn’t come through in the group.

A thought struck her. “So Spike, honest to God truth, why are you in Sunnydale? I mean, other than the Battle Royale.”

“I came for Buffy. I stayed for Buffy.” He said it with finality -- a giant red CASE CLOSED stamped on the file.

“Come on, man! She doesn't want you!” Heat rushed to Jo's face as soon as the harsh words tumbled out. “I mean, she doesn't seem to respect you. Even Xander is in charge of his own little goddess squad, and he's a joke of a hunter.”

“There’s the rub,” Spike whispered. He looked away from her, pretending to inspect something in the grass. “Couldn’t leave. Shouldn't stay.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” Jo wasn’t sure what she’d come there for. Commiseration? Hard to wallow in their shared left out status if she couldn’t even admit to her feelings. “Look, my nerves are kinda raw right now, and you stepped right on it. I’ve pined, yeah. A lot. Not school girl hearts on the notebook sort of pining, but thinking that maybe, just maybe…” She shrugged, and bit her lip. She wasn’t ready to expose her most private dreams about Dean Winchester.

“It’s one thing to meet Dean’s perfect superhero girlfriend. It’s another to see them together. Romance movie kisses and soaring music. Happy for them. Sad for me. I want to throw confetti in the the air and then set it the fuck on fire, you know?”

Spike nodded, a far away look on his face. “I know. God, I know.”

Body duty was usually a lonely affair. Spike liked that aspect. Time to think, or in this case, chat. He hadn’t anticipated Jo crashing the party though, and she could only be crashing for one reason. So he pushed aside thoughts of the world’s end and flipped over his lonely hearts club card.

“I know. God, I know.” After gently setting down his bucket of expired-vessel, Spike stared up at the sky. Jo stared with him.

He pressed his hands to his lips a couple times, longing for a cigarette. “Thing is, I feel new, like some wobbly-legged deer. I didn’t want to be in charge of things until I felt in charge of me. You’ve seen me on good days, but I used to be a monster.”

Jo’s face twinged a bit at the word monster. She probably thought he was being dramatic. No one had told her, then. Blessed innocence.

He continued, more to the wind than to her. “I did terrible things. Sometimes I loved it. Sometimes, the evil pushed me aside, but I was running the show more than I'd like to admit. They may hold grudges, but I hold all the guilt.”

“Hunters are champion guilt-swallowers,” she said. “Kind of our thing.”

“Been doing a lot of thinking. What does guilt make a man? An alcoholic husk? A paralyzed thing? So I ‘ave to let the guilt go. I may ‘ave done terrible things in my past, but I’m better than that now. I’m brave and I’m brilliant.” He smile at her. His decision was made, and he felt good.

Jo knocked him playfully with her elbow. “You know, alcoholic husk is a time-honored retirement plan for our lot back home. Assuming we live that long.”

Spike didn’t plan on living that long. He just needed to stay in control until the end. “Recently, I’ve been thinking about leaving. ‘aving Dean ‘ere makes me ‘opeful, believe it or not. ‘e’s a git sometimes, but ‘e’ll look out for ‘er. She doesn't need me anymore.”

Hope was a thing riding in on a comet of Feathers. Spike didn’t think he needed a sign of such garish proportions. He knew what he needed to do.

“Make sure Dean gets that.” He pointed at the bucket. “Wants to do a proper send off.”

“Where are you going?” Jo asked as he started walking up the street.

“I’m going to ‘elp save the world.”

Buffy and Dean walked in silence, enjoying how their palms brushed together, the rhythm of their steps. She wanted to savor the moment -- walking beside him, the late morning sun drawing out the freckles scattered over his skin.

Once they turned a corner away from any prying eyes, she said, “I’m sorry about Castiel.”

Dean bit his lip, grief settling into his eyes. He stopped and drew her into his arms. Resting her head on his chest, she listened to the small hitches in his breathing as he processed the loss of his friend.

“He’ll be okay. Gotta keep reminding myself he’s not dead. He just has to find a vessel in a world without angel vessels.” Dean bit his lip, puzzling through his friend’s situation.

Buffy held him as tightly as she dared. “Where’s Gabriel? Why did Cas--”

“Gabriel’s dead. Long, trippy story. Cas, uh, he wanted to keep a promise.” Pain brimmed in his eyes.

“He wanted to bring you back to me,” she realized with horror and gratitude.

Dean nodded and resumed walking. The topic closed for now.

“How long was I gone?” he asked.

“Three weeks. How long was it for you?”

“Same.”

A knot in her stomach loosened. One of her many worries while he was gone was time passing faster for one of them, losing more years together.

“Things seem better with the girls,” he said.

Buffy shrugged. “They agreed I’m in charge.” “How generous.”

She’d thought a lot about the Potentials. Buffy had tried to be their Watcher, but that was too didactic. She’d tried to give them space, but that made her too aloof. Then she learned that she and all of the Slayers before her were prisons for a goddess.

Then it clicked.

Of course, Buffy had noticed how alienating power was. It bred controlling jealousy in others, as with the Watcher’s Council (and occasionally her friends). The Power made relationships difficult; most men were too delicate for her strength. The Power called for hard choices made quickly. The Power came with Duty, like an anchor around her neck, allowing her only the most narrow of paths: cut yourself off in order to save as many people as you can. It was the path nearly every Slayer had walked.

The Slayer was truly a golden cage everyone was scrambling to rule. A perfect prison.

She wondered if Hecate had shrieked the day Buffy decided to hang with Willow over Cordelia.

“They don’t have to like me,” she said. “They just have to follow me. I think we’re there. They’ve stopped second guessing me, at least.

“By the way, I’ve been staying at your place.” Buffy smiled at Dean, revelling in the comfort of him. “It was the closest I could get to you. My house just doesn’t feel like mine anymore, especially without you there.”

Dean kissed her hand. Her entire body buzzed with excitement.

They’d walked far enough to find themselves on the edge of the rich neighborhood. Dean let out a low whistle as they passed a starter mansion. “Forget your place or mine. We should have just moved over here.”

“Why not now?” she giggled, leading Dean by the hand into a gated pool.

They peeled back the pool cover before stripping. Her blouse, his button down. Her bra, his t-shirt. She paused before sliding off her pants to admire his broad shoulders, the way his powerful muscles rippled under his skin. He pushed down his jeans and boxers together, and she bit her lip to keep from moaning over his already stiffening length.

Dean dove in, a clean line of muscle and sex, only to bob up seconds later with a cry of excitement. “Woo! Colder than I expected.”

She dove in anyway, the chill shocking her. He was there, and she wanted to feel every inch of him against her, inside her. The most intimate they’d been in weeks was holding each other after she’d been possessed.

They swam toward each other, enjoying their weightlessness while their hands slowly explored each other’s bodies as if touching something rare and priceless. She wrapped her legs around his waist, happy with the familiar thickness of him between her thighs. Dean kissed her long and slow, gently sucking on the tip of her tongue, his fingers caressing her breasts. Each kiss felt like he was tugging on a string, unbinding her, setting her free.

His smile wide, he hoisted her up on the side of the pool and teasingly licked up her inner thigh. Clamping his arms around her legs, he buried his face in her. She could barely breathe as he traced circles with his tongue. Fingers twisted in his wet hair, she bucked against his mouth, her need increasing with each lap of his tongue. Soon, she arched her back and cried out as pleasure washed over her, wave after wave of missing him, of needing him. Her body still humming, she laid back in the sun.

Pushing himself up on the edge of the pool, Dean lay beside her, grinning, his arm draped over her stomach. “You look happy.”

Buffy sat up, pulling him with her. “I’m not done with you,” she purred as she pushed him onto a poolside chaise lounge.

Her body pulsed and pleaded to have him inside of her. She froze for just a second, the memory of the demon cackling that word -- baby -- reverberating in her brain.

“You okay?” Squinting at her, he shielded his eyes from the sun.

“Enjoying the view.”

She dropped to her knees. He could still fill her lungs, her hands, her mouth. Buffy placed her hands on his thighs, covering up his running list of the dead (a list soon to grow longer) tattooed there. Covering up the J. H.

Dean moaned softly as she took him in her mouth inch by inch. He grinned at her, his tongue caught between his teeth. She increased her pace, watching his lust-blown eyes until she stroked a shuddering oooo from his pink lips still glistening with her.

When they were both satisfied, Dean pulled her into his arms. They laid together on the lounge, the sun warming their skin, dreaming of an imaginary future. Buffy traced his tattoos with her fingers and idly tapped on his freckles. A pleased hum popped in her throat as he played with her hair.

“I was mulling over what you said the night before we left. You said the longer we’re together, the more you want.” Dean paused to kiss the top of her head. “I want that too, whatever shape it takes.”

Buffy propped herself up on her arm and looked him in the eye. His naive hope made her heart ache. Their future was too complicated. “But we can’t have that, Dean. When this is over, I go back to nightly patrols. Those are our nights out: killing vampires. The job hunt is going to start up again, and with that on my plate, I don’t think I can keep up with college. We don’t have the time for more.”

“Bullshit!” he said, his face pained. “The Watcher’s Council is dead, Girly. Who do you think makes the rules now?”

“I can’t abandon--”

“Who said anything about abandoning anything? The Council was in England, right? Now you got fifty plus girls in your house that need Watchers and training. You got Giles and Sam. I’m sure a few more will step up. Who says they have to go back to England? Who says the Potentials can’t get hands-on training doing patrols once a week? Who says all the fighting has to be on your shoulders all the time?”

It just sounded like more to handle. More to worry about. She’d been in such despair since the slaughter at the winery, she hadn’t thought about life after the Apocalypse. “Let’s lock up Lucifer, then plan for the future.”

Dean kissed her on the forehead. “Okay, darlin’. How about a present instead?”

He retrieved his duffel bag from where he’d dropped it by the gate. “Death said he was the one who reaped you both times. You wouldn’t leave the first time, when you drowned, but the second time you were happy to go.”

Anyone else would have deemed her suicidal to face death as she had, but Dean understood sacrifice.

“Anyway, he gave me something for you.” Dean unzipped his bag and pulled out a golden bow, the string fine like spider silk and glowing like silver, and a quiver of six golden arrows.

They were hers. Artemis’s. They were as familiar to her as her own reflection. The grip formed to her hand as if her hand had formed it. The tension on the string perfect.

Throwing Dean’s shirt over her nakedness, she dashed onto the front lawn. The former owners of a house at the end of the block had an affinity for yard decorations. Within a minute, she’d shot a fake deer, a small battalion of lawn gnomes. Seven shots, but there was still an arrow in her quiver. She pulled it out. One golden arrow in her hand, and one in the quiver. She raced to the end of the block to retrieve her arrows, and when she returned them to the quiver, there were six again.

Something inside her began to wake up.

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