#saves and heals up Jax after she gets lost in the city

[capricornus-rex]

Someone Left to Save (10)

Cal Kestis x Reader

Requested by Anon

Summary: The Mantis crew arrives to the capital of Ulfin, in the planet of Pevera, under siege. They meet the local rebel cell spearheaded by the former Republic admiral, Jax Beneb, who seeks to destroy the Empire’s occupation that was aggressively imposed upon while exploiting the planet of its natural resources. A plan is devised to destroy the Imperial’s main base of operations—as well as their influence—in the planet; however, it was a do-or-die mission that you and Cal had gotten yourselves caught in.

A/N: What isn’t strictly prohibited but you feel its illegal? Writing drafts of my fanfic in my office desktop LMAO the banking industry here can be pretty tight with their rules tho. AAAAAHH So sorry I haven’t been posting!!! For the past 2 days, I was finishing this whole chapter and I’ve gotten into like one-fourth of the next chapter!! (stay tuned! that one’s gonna be intense! ;w;)

Tags: Force-Sensitive! Reader, Inquisitor! Reader, Jedi! Reader, Fake Death, Jedi turned Inquisitor, Seduction to the Dark Side, Turn to the Dark Side, The Dark Side of the Force, Aftermath of Torture, Torture, Psychological Torture, Redemption Arc! Reader, Possible Redemption, Premonitions

Also in AO3

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 – 8 | Previous: Part 9 | Next: Part 11 | Masterlist

10 of ?

Relying on the spies’ intel didn’t cut it anymore, so getting out there was the best course of action. You perfectly knew that this is no race against the other Inquisitors, and each Jedi is just hunted game in the eyes of the Grand Inquisitor, Darth Vader, and the Emperor altogether.

You marched to the hangar with a graceful, poised stride. When you saw the hangar officers conversing by the entrance, they stiffened at the sight of you.

“Prepare my ship!” you barked.

The mechanics and engineers scrambled to your TIE Fighter—distinguishable by its black body, a red intercrossed stripe making the cockpit look like a rifle’s reticle from the outside—you watched them inspect, recalibrate, and refuel the vehicle before confirming that it’s safe for travel.

“All engines go for your TIE Fighter, Twelfth Sister,”

“Good,”

You climbed the ladder to the cockpit and made yourself comfortable. The mechanics scurried to detach the hooks and cables strapped to the vessel as you pump up the engines. The hangar attendant waved his signal rods in front of your cockpit as you slowly hover forward, following the path the attendant is carving for you, when you inched closer to the open air you cranked the throttle’s lever and accelerated. The rotors rippled out a ring of dust and air as it slowly gained some velocity, and then you zoom out of the hangar like a black comet and out of Mons Golotha.

In less than 20 minutes, the X1 TIE Fighter’s speed hindered as soon as it entered Mons Golotha’s exosphere. Staring back at you through that cockpit windshield is the star-dotted vacuum of space.

“Okay, Cal sweetheart, where could you be hiding?” you mutter to yourself as you fire up the nav computer.

You drive the TIE forward, farther and farther away from the orbiting moon, you weren’t trying to pick up a signal—you’re trying to find some peace, ironically, in the dead blankness of the galaxy in the hopes to pick up where you left in your meditation earlier. Your grip loosened, no more than a delicate, dainty hold of the steering wheel, you let go and let yourself get lost in concentration.

The heavy, gloomy hum of space helped you drown out all of the white noise in order for you to focus better. A silent call whose echo reaches as far as the system in the ten parsecs. You struggle to recall the image of the place where you saw Cal in—that’s your next best shot in finding him.

A blinding red hue—it’s either morning or afternoon wherever he is. You could even feel the prickling heat underneath your suit.

An arid wasteland. A single city perched atop one of the mesas erected across the sandy, barren expanse.

This planet is wholly new to you.

You see Cal standing atop a mesa whose surface has cracked, brought upon by intense drought, it overlooks the small city not larger than half a quadrant of Coruscant’s city block. The image sharply jabbed its way through your skull, causing you to flick your eyelids up, and return to reality.

“Jeddah!” you gasped its name.

The place is unheard of to you, going back to Mons Golotha to check the archives would prove to be inconvenient. The next plausible move is to follow your instincts. You crane the neck of the nav computer so it faces you, then your fingers tapped away with the buttons—it was strange, though you weren’t startled, you knew exactly what its coordinates are, and so you charted your course to Jeddah.

When the computer screen glowed green and showed a map of the destination, without reluctance, you punched it—pushing the steering forward and the TIE Fighter cuts through the empty space like an arrowhead.

—–

JEDDAH

Cal sits at the edge of the exact mesa where you saw him in your vision, taking under the stout branches of a dead tree. He’s lost count of the days you’ve been gone, he wagered it to be roughly a month now—and he still hasn’t moved on, he refuses to. Gradually, his new habits have become routine to him, not that he’s gotten any better; he remains stoic, almost unfeeling, and his fighting has lost its grace.

If only you could see him now—he’s riddled with sear marks either from his pastime tinkering or the miss-by-a-hair grazes from Stormtroopers’ blasts, bruises, and brand new scars. He refuses healing from Merrin’s magick and makes do with the stims BD-1 supplies for him; but truthfully, he prefers your Force Healing. He misses the warm touch of your palm flat on his skin, wherever his injury might be, the soothing sensation might as well be a thing of the past for him.

The humid wind blows over his cheeks, red sand pricks at his freckles. He sits there, eyes closed, feeling for something cannot name yet knows wholeheartedly.

“[Y/N]…” he mouthed. The utterance of your name is carried away by the wisp of sand.

Nothing.

He yearned to feel it again. He had hoped he would.

His meditation bore no fruit due to his desperation, impatience, and a directionless, bottled up anger.

“Come on…” he growled, squeezing his eyes shut as the rays of the sun blazed through the spaces between the tree branches.

Over several parsecs away, Cal’s voice saying your name—all but a whisper—and a deep humming rang altogether behind your ears. In the first few minutes, you’re unbothered by it, until it did reach you. Your eyes on the windshield wandered, searching the skies for the source, spotting planets and moons here and there.

Cal locked in on the connection, his furrowed eyebrows now relaxed, his breathing calmed and he maintained the ideal, tranquil stillness of his meditation.

The humming grew louder, it evolved into a deeper, more baritone rumbling—like a stampede in the distance—you kept looking for its origin, but neither a single planet nor moon in the system you’re in seem to have the answer. You lent a few more minutes of listening in, hoping you’d make sense of it until you picked up the same familiar sensation as earlier.

“[Y/N]…?” asked Cal, confirming your presence through the Force.

You didn’t speak, you exploited the connection to clear out the cloudiness surrounding your objective. The red mesa in the desert appeared before your eyes, a dead tree, and the city overlooking the city sitting atop a single, erect rock pillar large enough to cradle it.

[Y/N]…! Please…!

A wicked grin snaked on your face. Your jaw clenched and your eyes had a sinister glint.

“Found you!” you hissed.

According to your nav, you’re two systems away from Jeddah. You pulled the computer by its metal neck, your fingers flying all over the keyboard as you calculate the jump to lightspeed.

Never have you ever punched the buttons on the dashboard of your fighter, you were particularly fond and careful of this TIE Fighter, though the excitement of finally spotting your prey caused you to crank the steering wheel forward so hard that the cogs inside groaned, consequently making the thrusters roar with great enthusiasm and haul the vessel at its full speed.

You grinned as you put the pedal to the metal with your fighter, you licked your lips and smirked.

“Don’t worry, sweetie, I’m coming for you.”

The young Jedi got out of the trance and he’s out of breath, exhilarated by the fact that you are alive after all this time—after all this time of defending that exact same point in every debate amongst the Mantis crew—but connecting with you felt different and eerie. BD-1 inched closer to his owner, his scanners picking up Cal’s stress levels and his increased heart rate. A single chirp caught the boy’s attention.

“It’s [Y/N], BD, but…”

“Bee…?”

“I have a bad feeling about her,”

The droid was in disbelief, BD never imagined—not even his processors and circuit board—that Cal would say that about you! He sent out a whole string of trills, questions that Cal couldn’t translate one at a time. He eased his little droid companion, gently gesturing at him to calm down.

“I think we need to tell this to Cere,”

The most concrete proof he could ever get a hold of was a connection from you through the Force. He questioned himself if Cere would believe him, considering she is the closest he can come to in terms of the ways of the Force.

Cal comes rushing back to the Mantis.

“Cere!” he started to call repeatedly when he was only a few meters away until he got into the ship.

The boy was a huffing and puffing mess when he threw himself into the ship, startling everyone and inadvertently interrupting their individual pastimes.

“Cal? What happened?” Cere had to lower her leather journal away from her face just to check on the boy.

“Are you alright?”

“Slow down, kid! It’s not like we’re leaving without you all of a sudden!”

“That’s not it!” he panted. He then turned to the older woman. “Cere, didn’t Cordova write something about having two Force-sensitive beings connecting or communicating through the Force?”

The more Cal rambled on with his queries, Cere had to put her book down on the lounge table to listen to the redheaded youngster. She knows he’s onto something—his excitement is just making slightly incoherent. Her lips parted as if to say something, but the boy is unconsciously unfurling new discoveries with the ways of the Force.

“Well, I just connected with [Y/N]!”

Greez cuts in as politely as he can. “Wai—Wait, how did you know it was [Y/N]? Moreover, what do you mean by ‘connect’?”

“Her voice!” he then remembers the eerie feeling that he put him off during the trance. “But… something doesn’t feel right.”

“About what? About [Y/N]?” Merrin joins in on the subject, curious and intrigued about your well-being, pausing from her tending of the terrarium and stepping down to the lounge table.

“So is it really her or just some random voice you heard that sounds just like her? My poor brain inside this gray head of mine can’t really grasp all of your Force mumbo-jumbo.”

“Cal, you don’t think—?”

Cal immediately refuses Cere’s theory without even letting her finish.

“No!” he bolts. “It can’t be. It’s impossible!”

“Cal, we can’t say for sure. But if you do have a bad feeling about it, then you best be prepared for what you’re about to see when she comes to you.”

There was a foreboding tone in Cere’s voice, consciously warning the boy of what’s to come. In his mind, Cal battled with himself and his inhibitions.

It’s not fair! In his mind, he whined like a child, on the verge of sobbing.

In what ought to be roughly a month and few weeks since you disappeared in Ulfin, his ecstasy in knowing that you truly are alive is instantly overridden by the fear that he cannot pinpoint yet—more like, he cannot accept yet should it be realized.

Coming out of hyperspace brought you to half a parsec away from Jeddah. In the nav, you can see the designated planet outlined in green amidst the others drawn in blue, blending in with the screen’s dark blue background.

You eased down to the regular flying speed as you close the distance between you and Jeddah. While the TIE Fighter cruises through space, passing by the neighboring planets, you cannot help but feel… bothered. Earlier, before you went to hyperspace, you were quite startled with how you behaved—you have never acted like this before. This was your very first solo campaign, as well.

Could it be excitement? For what, exactly? For doing something you want all alone—exactly how you want it? Perhaps.

Uncertainty? Because within the recesses of your being, the old you still lives albeit imprisoned?

“Enough!” you roared, leaning too hard and too fast to accidentally hit the back of your head. “Aaargh! Ow…”

You finally calmed down, for real this time, and your attention from the pain rippling across the back of your skull shifted to the repetitive bleeping of the nav computer. You leaned closer to the dashboard, peering on the screen; the radar indicates that you’re approaching the planet’s orbit. You buckle up and prepare the first phase of atmospheric entry.

Your arms flew in all directions, flicking switches and pressing buttons all over the ship—setting up the shields, applying the right amount of pressure on the steering wheel to counter the gravity, and finding the optimum speed. You close in on the bright, sunshine-gold sheen of Jeddah’s atmosphere.

The leather sank as you lean back, the turbulence made the ship rattle under your feet—the shields are doing its job to keeping the shaking to a minimum—and the TIE Fighter tore through the skies easily.

“Well, that turned out more effortlessly than I expected,” you sighed. “Now, to find you, Cal.”

The same feeling you had when you were still out in space returned, only this time, much louder and more prominent. There wasn’t a doubt that you’ve come to the right place; the connection has staled over time, perhaps Cal has given up in trying. The TIE Fighter circles in the skies in search for a specific city atop a mesa, at least a common signal belonging to it.

Along Cal’s trek, he spots your TIE Fighter—in perfect coincidence—zooming through Jeddah’s sky as a growing black speck. He squints his eyes and shades them with his hand over his brows.

“That can’t be good.”

“If this thing could hold a droid, things would’ve been much easier!” you grumbled as you manually optimized the transmitter. You sighed when no blips popped on the radar. “Might as well find someplace to land.”

At first, the ripple of the Force—barely a whisper again, drowned by the engine hum of the TIE—ran in the back of your mind. Unconsciously feeling it, you’re practically welcoming it; Cal gets the exact same feeling as he watches your TIE Fighter circle the horizon, curious what this lone fighter could be doing in some place as desolate as Jeddah.

He senses the familiarity from the TIE Figher’s pilot, of all people, and little by little he starts to think that it’s not impossible.

[kinda-iconic]

Goodbye, my Friend

Author’s Note: So, here it is... the fic that has had me in literal tears. I have loved writing this, truly I have, though I have to admit that it resurfaced a few sad things in its wake. I tried to make Amy’s reaction as realistic as possible, so I incorporated my own experiences with grief, as well as the feelings and thoughts that come along with it. I won’t lie, I was heavily inspired by Kamilah’s speech at Jax’s/Lily’s memorial, as it hit home with me; pain really is the price of love. 

Summary: After the final battle with Rheya, the group try to come to terms with the loss of a good friend.

Tagging: @adrianadmirer​ @bloodboundismylife​ @raeylnnsmom​ @bbchoices​ @choicesfannatalie​ @mrsnazariowritesagain​ @luckyferrero​ @adriansbiss​ @octobereighth​ @mrskamilxh​ @kamilahslittlehoe​ @evilpluto​ @senator-adrian-raines-wifey​@misterbitterapplesauce​ @small-lady-of-the-sea​ @hypno-bear-tini @tays-role-plays​

Amy sits on the couch, the events of the past few hours replaying in her mind like a broken record on repeat. Everything she felt in that moment started to come back to her; the anger, the fear...

The pain.

I love you, Amy. You were the best...best friend...I’ve ever had.

Lily’s final words, permanently etched in her mind like they had been carved into wood, a painful reminder of a sacrifice that they should never have had to make. Her eyes remain fixated on her surroundings, her ears drowning out everything around her, including that of a familar voice, trying to lull her from her trance-like state.

‘Amy?’

Adrian takes a seat beside her, his eyes laden with empathy as they befall her. He places his hand atop of hers, giving it a comforting squeeze. He hesitates slightly, as if waiting for her to respond, but is met with nothing.

‘A…Amy?’

There is no response; she continues to stare forlornly at the coffee table, her cheeks blotchy and tear-stained. She remains like that for a moment before reaching up, wiping at the tears that threaten to fall, but it isn’t long before she pulls her hand away, noting the ash that has stuck to her wrist like glue. Her eyes widen as she catches sight of it, the remains of that night clinging to her skin, mixed with the dry remnants of blood and dirt. Her hands begin to tremble; Adrian is quick to notice, his brows narrowing in concern as he watches her. He sighs defeatedly, moving his hand to rest upon her waist; he pulls her closer to his side, his arm constricting around her, as if he’s trying desperately to reassure her of his presence.

‘I know that I cannot offer you a lot of comfort right now, but I…’ he reaches up, cupping her cheek with his palm, his fingers entangling in her hair, ‘I’m sorry, Amy.’ He looks into her eyes, his own glistening with tears. ‘I’m so, so sorry.’

She starts to cry once more, her muffled sob escaping with a sorrowful gasp, her trembling hands burying themselves in her jumper as she folds her arms, trying with all of her might to quell her body from shaking as she weeps. He wraps his arms around her, holding her close to his chest as she cries into his shoulder.

‘She was…’ she sniffles, her breath hitching in her throat, ‘she was…my…’

‘I know.’

He pulls her further into his embrace, cradling her head as she tilts it downwards, nestling her face into his chest. He presses a hasty kiss to her forehead, tucking her hair behind her ear as she continues to sob, fresh tears falling onto his shirt.

‘Why did she… why did she have to…’

‘She did what she did to protect you,’ he runs his hand down her back, drawing soothing circles into the fabric, ‘to keep you safe.’

‘It… it should have been me.’

‘Don’t say that,’ he replies with urgency, his voice stern yet sympathetic, ‘don’t ever say that.’

She looks up at him, dabbing at the corner of her eyes with her sleeves.

‘But it’s true,’ she rests her head on his shoulder, blubbing softly, ‘I was the only one that could defeat Rheya, and yet I…’ she sniffles once more, ‘I let Dracula distract me from defeating her.’ Her breath catches, and she soon finds herself staring at her hands, ‘if it wasn’t for me, then she wouldn’t be-’

‘Dead.’

Amy closes her eyes, silent tears trickling down her face.

‘I miss her, Adrian,’ she inhales sharply, sitting forward; she hides her face in her hands, shielding herself from the reality of what happened, ‘I miss her so damn much…’

‘We all do,’ he runs a gentle hand through her hair, his voice calming and delicate, ‘Lily was a good friend to all of us.’ He sighs despondently, taking her hand in his own, ‘what she did, it was…’

‘Heroic.’

Kamilah stands in the entryway, her manicured hand clutching onto a glass of red wine. She slowly approaches the pair, her expression solemn; she takes a seat on the arm of a chair, gesturing at Amy with her glass.

‘I said the same about you once,’ she glances down at her lap, exhaling slowly, ‘when you sacrificed yourself for us.’

Amy smiles sadly at her, but it fades away as quickly as it came.

‘Yeah… and I didn’t really make much of a difference there, did I?’

‘You made all the difference,’ Adrian nudges her slightly, ‘you freed the city from Gaius’ control; you saved all of us.’

‘Did I?’ She turns to Adrian with suddenness, her eyes welling with tears, ‘five of us entered that Opera House, Adrian; five of us entered and only four…’ she gasps, her words catching in her throat. She pauses for a moment before continuing, her voice no louder than a whisper.

‘O…only four…’

Her bottom lip begins to quiver; she brings her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms tightly around them. She shuffles along the couch, falling onto Adrian’s lap, her head resting on his knee.

‘Hey,’ he whispers softly to her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, ‘it’s alright.’ His hand inches under the material of her top, rubbing her back to soothe her. ‘I know it might not feel like it now, but…you’ll be okay. It will get easier in time, I-’

‘Everyone says that,’ Kamilah and Adrian share a knowing look before turning their attention back to Amy; she remains motionless, her voice quiet and laden with sorrow. She continues to stare at the table, the waterfall of tears subsiding for only a moment. ‘But it never does; not really.’

‘Amy…’

‘You know it’s true.’ She sniffles, discarding her tears with the pad of her thumb. ‘It’s practically in the manual on how you deal with grief,’ she stumbles on her words slightly, taking a sharp inhale of breath, ‘people tell you that time heals all wounds and that…that you’ll move on as time goes by, but…’ she sits upright, meeting Adrian’s gaze, ‘I don’t want to move on, Adrian. I don’t want to forget her.’

‘You don’t have to forget someone in order to move forward, Amy,’ he smiles sadly at her, squeezing her shoulder in comfort, ‘most of the time, it is the memory of that person, and their impact on our lives, that keeps us going.’

‘But what if I do?’ she looks up at him, her brown doe-like eyes meeting his own, ‘she was such an important person in my life…’ she sighs, running an exhausted hand through her hair. ‘How could I possibly move on from this.’

‘You can’t.’

Kamilah places her glass down on the end table, her once stoic expression replaced with one of conflict as she makes her way over to her. She sits on the armrest of the couch, placing a gentle hand on Amy’s shoulder.

‘Lily meant a lot to you; she was your best friend. It simply isn’t possible to move on from someone that was that dear to you.’

‘Then why do…’ she whimpers, trying to regain her composure, ‘why do people say that?’

‘Because we hate to see those we care about in pain,’ she looks over at Adrian, who smiles sadly at her in return, ‘even if we know that what we’re saying isn’t entirely true.’

‘But wouldn’t that be worse?’ Amy glances up at Adrian, her eyes laden with vulnerability; he runs a gentle hand through her hair, resting his palm at the nape of her neck. ‘Isn’t it better to tell the truth? To be honest?’

‘Not if it’s at the expense of others,’ he kisses the top of her head, ‘sometimes it is better to be kind, even if that means you disregard what is right.’

She studies her hands for a moment, her mind lost in thought. When she speaks, her voice is soft and quiet, barely audible to the ear.

‘I…I guess that makes sense.’

He drapes his arm around her, giving her shoulder a comforting squeeze.

‘Whatever you need of me, whether it’s words of comfort, or a shoulder that you…’ he stops himself, noting the strain that her grief has had on her, ‘I am here for you, Amy; always.’

She chuckles nervously, brushing the tears from her cheeks.

‘Thank you,’ she smiles; her head falls onto his arm, her delicate hands clasping onto his sleeve; ‘that… that means a lot.’

He moves her hair behind her shoulders, gently removing the strands that are stuck to her cheeks.

‘Anytime.’

Kamilah sighs; she gets to her feet, flattening out the creases in her blouse.

‘I should check on Jax… it’s getting late, and I want to make sure that he’s alright.’ 

‘How is he? He left very quickly after Rheya, and...’  Amy’s breath hitches at the mention of her name, ‘and you were the only one that managed to speak to him.’

Kamilah sighs, glancing down at her hands.

‘Jax and Lily were close; not as close as you were to her, but... they spent so much time working together in the Shadow Den. She was his right hand for over a year, so...’ she exhales sharply, shaking her head as if to rid herself of a bad memory, ‘losing another close friend so soon after Takeshi...’ 

She takes a moment to compose herself before continuing. 

‘He needs us in his corner, and after everything Lily did for Jax’s clan, I... I should give them my condolences.’

‘Lily meant a lot to you too,’ Amy smiles sadly up at her, ‘please don’t focus on everyone else’s grief and forget your own…’

‘I’ve lived for two millennia, Amy; grief isn’t a new concept to me.’

‘But it can still hurt, right? Just as much as it did the first time you lost someone…’

She responds with a curt nod.

‘Of course,’ she gestures to Adrian, ‘just because Adrian has been around for nearly three centuries, it doesn’t mean that the grief he felt when you…’ she pauses for a moment, noticing the anguish in his eyes as she recounts the night Amy lost her mortality; she clears her throat, looking down at the floor. ‘I’m sorry, Adrian, I…I didn’t mean to cause you-’

‘It’s fine,’ he interjects, waving his hand dismissively; he turns his attention to Amy, taking her hands in his own, ‘what Kamilah is trying to say is that…’ he rubs his forehead, fixating his gaze on their joined hands, ‘just because someone has lived a long life, it doesn’t mean that the pain of loss doesn’t affect them. When you died, I…the heartache I felt was all too real. I felt the same pain when I lost Celia all those years ago. When I… when I lost my family.’ He smiles at her, faintly squeezing her hand. ‘Grief may not be new to us, but it doesn’t mean that it hurts us any less.’

She looks up at Kamilah, her sorrowful eyes regarding her in admiration.

‘Can you make sure that Jax isn’t on his own tonight?’ She sits a little straighter,  ‘they may have joked about one another daily, but she was a good friend to him.’

‘Definitely,’ she tips her head in acknowledgement, ‘I’ll make sure to help out wherever I can; Jax has always been a ‘busy body’. I’ll ensure that he’s got something to keep him occupied.’

‘Thank you…’

She nods, turning her attention back to Adrian.

‘Are you heading back to your penthouse?’

‘I don’t know yet,’ he looks down at Amy, pressing a tender kiss to her temple, ‘I’d like to stay with you, if that’s alright.’

‘Really? You’d do that for me?’

‘Of course I would,’ he kisses the top of her head, his hand gently caressing her cheek, ‘I’d do anything for you, Amy… and if I’m honest…’ he wipes at the remaining tears with his thumbs, ‘I have a feeling that you don’t want to be on your own tonight.’

She nods, nestling her face into his chest. His arms constrict around her, pulling her into his embrace.  

‘Are you happy to stay here? Or did you want-’

‘Can we go to yours?’ She sniffles, releasing a sharp breath, ‘I…I don’t think I can stay here tonight.’

‘Of course,’ he smiles at her with adoration, leaning in to kiss the tip of her nose, ‘do you want any help packing an overnight bag?’

She shakes her head.

‘I think I’ll be okay,’ she stands up, straightening her jacket, ‘but thank you for offering.’ She glances back at Kamilah, her sweet smile returning, ‘thank you, Kamilah… for everything you said…’

‘I’m glad I could help,’ she retrieves the glass from the side, downing the wine in a couple of gulps before turning back to face the others, ‘I’m always here for you in the case that you need words of encouragement,’ she tilts her head subtly in Adrian’s direction. ‘But if you want a hug or anything…mushy, I’d say that’s Adrian’s department.’

He chuckles softly, running a hand through his hair.

‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’

‘Please do.’

Amy starts to make her way to her bedroom, her footsteps light and delicate. She goes to pass Adrian, but before she has the chance, he grabs onto her hand, causing her to pause.

‘Adrian?’

He raises her hand to his lips, planting a soft kiss to her knuckles.

‘Pack enough for a few days. We can always come back for more.’

She smiles bashfully, regarding him for a moment before heading down the corridor. At the sound of her door closing, Adrian turns to Kamilah, his expression one of concern.

‘Amy can stay at mine until she is ready to come home.’

‘And what if she doesn’t want to come back?’ She folds her arms across her chest, ‘she shared this apartment with Lily. Whose to say that she’ll want to continue living here? Besides… apartments in New York can be expensive. Living on her own? It could just about bankrupt her.’

‘Well I’ll just have to ask her what she wants to do.’

‘Does she even have an option?’ She takes her glass over to the kitchen, placing it in the dishwasher. ‘This place will probably cost her most of her salary.’

‘I can help with that,’ he reaches into his jacket, retrieving his car keys, ‘I’ll cover her rent until she decides what she wants to do.’

‘You’d pay for her to live here?’ She looks at him quizzically, ‘you do realise that these apartments aren’t cheap, right? It’s cheaper than most, but it’s still rather pricey.’

‘Are you forgetting that I’m the CEO of a very profitable company?’

‘And you’d pay for everything? Her rent? The bills...’

He nods. She cracks a smile, chuckling to herself.

‘You’re smitten with her.’

He shrugs, reaching up to adjust his tie.

‘Can you blame me?’

‘I guess not.’

The pair remain in silence for a moment before Adrian speaks, his words tainted with a mixture of mischief and sincerity.

‘That reminds me…’ he stands abruptly, putting on his suit jacket, ‘I need to give her a raise.’

‘Just for being your girlfriend?’

‘No,’ he chuckles softly, ‘for all of the hard work she’s been doing.’ He checks his watch, patting his pockets as if to check that everything is there. ‘That being said…’

‘You’re insufferable.’

He smiles mischievously at her, ‘it’s taken you over two centuries to figure that out?’

‘I think I knew that from day one…pretty boy.’

‘Hey!’

She shakes her head, an amused laugh escaping her.

‘I’m going to call Jax; let him know that I’m stopping by.’

‘Tell him that we’re here for him.’ He walks with her to the door, his hands casually buried in his pockets. ‘Lily meant a lot to all of us, but this…I guess it’s hit Jax and Amy most of all.’

‘I have to agree,’ she opens the door, making a passing comment over her shoulder, ‘Lily had her moments, but I was rather fond of her. It feels strange to admit, but… I think I’m going to miss her trying to coax me into playing video games.’ She exits the apartment, spinning on her heel to face him, ‘though I don’t think that will stop Amy from asking.’

‘Knowing Amy, she’ll definitely keep that tradition alive.’

‘Well I hope she does,’ she narrows her brows in suspicion, ‘but don’t encourage her.’

A hearty laugh escapes him. He holds up his hands in surrender.

‘I won’t, but I can’t make any promises that the idea won’t accidentally ‘slip’ out.’

‘I should have expected that from you.’

He smiles at her in gratitude; he clears his throat, taking a careful step towards her.

‘Thank you…for what you said to Amy, I…’

She holds up a hand to silence him.

‘There’s no need to thank me, brother; our little Bloodkeeper needed comfort. I only did what any good friend would do.’

‘As you have done for me all these years,’ he lowers his gaze to the floor, his voice taking a sincere tone, ‘I… I honestly don’t know what I’d have done without you, Kamilah.’

‘Don’t get soppy on me, Raines; save the mushiness for your girlfriend,’ she places a comforting hand on his arm, ‘and look after her. She needs you more than ever right now.’

He nods.

‘That’s a promise.’

[clansayeed]

Bound by Destiny II, part 1 ― Chapter 24: The Identity

PAIRING: Kamilah Sayeed x MC (Nadya Al Jamil) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Destiny II, part 1 ⥽

While struggling with nightmares of lives she’s never lived, a shadow from the past looming over her city, and the proposed idea that her life may just be a little bit too weird to handle alone, Nadya makes sure to tell herself that everything is perfect just the way it is. If only. When the self-proclaimed King of Vampires (and Maker of her sometimes-girlfriend and always-boss, can’t forget that little tidbit) Gaius Augustine returns intent on claiming Manhattan as the throne that was promised, she and her friends find themselves forced into the task of saving the world. But with millennia-old vampires and an Order of hunters on their heels as well as allies hiding catastrophic secrets at their backs… it won’t be an easy task. Too bad destiny didn’t exactly ask for her input.

Bound by Destiny II and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the Bloodbound series and spin-off, Nightbound. Find out more [HERE].

TAG LIST: @googlesentmehere, @cess02

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Destiny II tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

While saying a final farewell to the City of Shadows, Serafine's emotional turmoil leads her to reveal the final clue of a puzzle one hundred years in the making. It's time for Cadence to finally learn the truth... no matter the consequences.

[READ IT ON AO3]

They should start the next leg of their journey as soon as possible. But by the time Nadya and Adrian leave the awful wreckage of Gaius’ old room behind and find the others, she doesn’t think her body can physically manage another step.

Of course — throwing me over Jax’s shoulder would probably make the trip back to the surface more than a little faster, the reasonable part of her thinks; but reason is too tired to argue over the extremely prideful (and correct), but that will happen over my dead body.

They’ll stay just long enough to rest and recover; that’s the agreement. Long enough for Adrian to piece himself back together. Long enough for Nadya to find the remnants of herself among the straggling memories taking advantage of her exhaustion. And—though she won’t admit it aloud—long enough for Serafine to get a chance at a proper goodbye to everything she once loved… and all that she had to leave behind.

“It’s really beautiful down here… scary vampire hunter skeletons aside.” After all, everything beautiful in Nadya’s life comes with just a sprinkle of scary these days.

Serafine stands in the middle of the ballroom; surrounded by hollow shells of armor and the ashes of everyone she once cared about but still impossibly beautiful. Like all those years ago when they were breathing their last, the Knights decided to crawl out of that very spot. Like they knew she would return to see it one last time and made a path for her; a morbid procession.

One floor above them Adrian rests to regain his strength and heal his punctured palms. She had left Lily, Jax, and Cadence to their card game down in the kitchens to go find Serafine. Not that she has any idea why, exactly… Nadya just… felt like it was something she needed to do.

They are completely alone here.

Maybe that’s why Serafine feels the freedom to wistfully reminisce. “This is nothing more than a tattered husk of the splendor these halls once held.” She cranes her head up to the soot-stained ceiling and the iron-and-glass chandelier still miraculously overhead. “With no daylight to hinder us, the City of Shadow was never anything less than alive. In more than just the King’s Manor.”

She gestures towards one of the double-door entrances to the dancing hall. In the distance Nadya swears she can see walls of actual bone and skulls not unlike the catacombs so far above their heads. “There to the Northernmost caverns, lies a labyrinth once called the largest in the world. Endless puzzles and clues all come together to create a maze only solved by the exceedingly cunning or the desperately bored.”

“Which were you?”

That earns Nadya a bemused little smile. “A little bit of both. In the early decades, before the City grew, I devoted all my time and energies into her foundation. A good thirty years had passed before I went back up to the surface. Surprising even then how much the world could change in such a short time.”

“I wouldn’t call thirty years short…” But Nadya wasn’t here to debate finite things to an infinite woman. So she lets it go.

“So what about when it did grow? What was it like?”

“C’est manifique…” the lace-trimmed edges of Serafine’s sleeves billow slightly as she twirls with all the grace of a lifelong dancer, “I dare not speak it aloud for fear I would not do it justice. Parties lasting weeks, academic debates that stretched across years. After lifetimes cowering in barns, sleeping amid mass graves for fear of discovery; praying to the First that the sunrise would be once again met by sunset, and that it would not be our last… the freedom that came from demanding a home from a world that had forsaken us was… I have no words.”

Nadya believes that. Why else would she be crying so freely; laughing so tragically?

“But none of it held a candle to the night the City fell.” Serafine continues unbidden this time. Too lost in her own memories to even withdraw as Nadya awkwardly fumbles on the tips of her toes around the Knights’ remains; coming ever-closer.

“You said you were having a… a party, right?”

“To use such a crass word —”

“— that’s the word you used, though —”

“— only for lack of a better one. We risked everything for it, Nadya; everything. Secreted trips to the surface for finery and the things only the nobility could afford, but never appreciate. Not as we would. It was to be my crowning glory. The culmination of decades of devotion’s labor.”

Her words, poetic in their beauty, are only enhanced by the emotion with which she speaks them. Clasped hands clutched to her chest; like the very memory of it will be enough to defy the laws of nature and make her heart beat again. But with them comes a dawning understanding for Nadya — one that bridges the chasm between fond recollection and the tears that cling to the bottoms of her cheeks.

“The party that night… it was yours.”

The way the vampiress’ face falls makes Nadya’s heart break all the more. “It was my confession of undying love, you see. To Paris, to the City; to everyone who had found a home here as I did.”

“I’m… so sorry.” Because what else is there for her to say? What else is there for anyone to say when the tragedy of it happened such a long time ago but it’s only now that Serafine is given the chance to face it? It’s just not fair.

Empathy shines through warm honeyed eyes; no trace of the woman desperate for answers she had met in the library. Grief does funny things to people, though, so she won’t give Serafine anything less than her understanding for that. How cruel would she be if she did?

A smile tugs at the corners of Serafine’s lips. And it’s impossible to have a woman that pretty looking at you like that without feeling fifty shades of self-conscious. “What,” Nadya ducks her head, bashful; tucks her hair behind her ears, “what did I say?”

“Nothing worth such a shy face on such a lovely young lady.” She ghosts her fingertips feather-light under Nadya’s chin to bring her back away from their shoes. “I was just thinking of how Kamilah looked at the presentation.”

Nadya’s eyes widen. “Kamilah was there?” And Serafine nods.

“Indeed. As if I would host such an important event without finding opportunity to placate the King himself… and his Queen alongside.”

“Yeah… that makes sense.” She doesn’t have to like it, but it does either way. The thought sweeps Nadya’s eyes across the charred remains of upended tables and armor plates splattered with blood the color of rust. She doesn’t even know what she’s looking for — a ghost of a memory of her, maybe. Trying to follow the path her long sweeping dress must have trailed as she danced.

Another memory and Serafine’s laughter bubbles out yet again. “Oh how livid she was that I did not take her for the first waltz. She had made me promise, you know, earlier that evening, that I would. But I was the hostess… I had obligations.

“Still, there’s something to be said for holding up her end of our little deal. She wore the masque I gifted her all night.”

The mask.

Even if Serafine had decided to launch into a detailed description of the thing; Nadya wouldn’t need it. She knows exactly what it looked like; like one long strand of gossamer steel warped and needled together to frame her face in all its beauty. Any other mask would be made to hide someone away, but Kamilah’s was crafted so no one would ever question who it belonged to — or the importance of her.

But the vision of the Kamilah in the library was brief; it fades, she fades, into smoke on the air.

And all at once Nadya realizes that’s the second mask she’s seen since they came down here.

Eyes glassy and focused somewhere on the far wall, the smile starts to slide from Serafine’s face. Nadya has to squint her eyes to hope for even a glimpse in the darkness… but if her glasses aren’t failing her she’d swear the woman can’t look away from a large broadsword embedded high up in the stone wall.

High for someone like Nadya, anyway. Not for someone a few heads taller.

“Serafine?”

She doesn’t answer. She knows what she’s said — that she can’t take it back. Can’t risk saying anything more.

“Serafine.” This time Nadya isn’t asking.

The part of Nadya that knows what it felt like to see Rome fall without hesitation already knows the answer. She still finds herself asking it. No matter how pointless it is.

“Serafine… was Cadence h—”

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear!”

Lily’s laugh, loud and boisterous, hacks through the tension between them like a rusty machete. Startles Nadya enough that she’s stumbling back, hand clutching her chest feeling her heart race for reasons she’s still a little foggy on. When she looks up, Serafine is largely unfazed; but instead of the sword in the (stone) wall, she’s whirled around to the intrusive sight that practically frolics through the farthest set of doors.

Ask Jax what he’s doing and he’ll have a thousand different excuses, all of them covering up the fact that he’s pretty much holding Adrian up with his shoulder. Cadence flanks Adrian’s other side, flicking a cautious glance their way every other moment or so like he’s ready and waiting in case the other vampire isn’t as recovered as he’s apparently led them to believe.

That leaves Lily taking up the front; leading them on like a punk Robin Hood and her Band of Merry Vamps. She spins on the heel of her boot as the ceiling arches up and vaults around the ballroom, neck craning all the way back until she’s very near falling over.

She doesn’t — thankfully. But she does mistake Nadya and Serafine’s startled reactions to their arrival as part of an ongoing joke.

“No but seriously, Nadi’, Cade was just telling us about some booze he taste-tested for Garrus, back down in New Orleans? Go on, tell it dude, tell it!” She smacks the back of her hand against Cadence’s chest in open encouragement. Unfortunately judging by the sheer embarrassment on his face it’s anything but.

“I told you twice now; without context it’s just a story that ends in me streaking all the way into the Mississippi.”

“That’s what makes the story!”

He rolls his eyes at her, then offers Nadya an apologetic smile. “I’m assuming I don’t have to excuse her behavior? Though I think she’s just as excited to get out and up top as the rest of us a—”

“What’s going on?”

Jax’s question, gruff and clipped, cuts through any shred of amusement left hanging. Narrowed eyes flit back and forth between Nadya and Serafine and if his reaction alone wasn’t enough to dial the discomfort up to eleven the way Adrian shifts to stand up a little straighter definitely does the trick.

“Did something happen?”

The vampiress opens her mouth and closes it just as quickly. Nadya can practically feel her biting her tongue. All traces of her wide-eyed dreams and heartfelt memories gone like they, too, were all an act.

Just like she had been acting back in the atrium.

Lily rubs her temples with a groan. “I swear to god — can’t things go right for, like, twenty-four hours? What fucked up this time?”

“I…”

The moment is waning fast — and taking Nadya’s confidence with it. One whole minute ago she had been so certain of something so important but now—now she wonders, now she considers all the possibilities. Coincidence? Poor word choice?

Something — anything — other than Serafine having some big bad secret that would wreck everything.

But the look on Cadence’s face… not now, not confused like the rest of them. But back at the Shadow Den; full of desperation. Or struggling to keep hold of his sanity in Katherine’s arms; fearful and small. And all Nadya can think about is how she would feel if someone she knew kept the truth from her. For no good reason at all.

“Cadence?”

He jerks to attention, not bothering to hide his surprise. “Yes Nadya?”

“I think…” swear on her life it looks like Serafine mouths “please, no” out of the corner of her eye, “I think you were here when the Knights stormed the City. I think I had that—that vision of you wearing a mask because you were here, in the ballroom; at Serafine’s party.

“I think Serafine knows who you really are.”

The tension ripples out around them. Thick enough to slice into neat little squares and stack up like bricks. She almost wishes she could; can’t shake the sinking feeling that some kind of guard or protection would be helpful right about now.

They move in synchronized silence. Cadence raises his chin; strong jaw taut in a show of confidence the wavering sea of confusion in his eyes betrays. Serafine does the opposite; casts her head away from him, from Nadya, from all of them in a manner almost ashamed.

No, not ashamed, not personally. This close and with all those walls she worked so hard to build up in such a short time starting to crumble at the foundations Nadya can feel the strength of it growing with every passing second.

She’s… ashamed of Nadya. Somehow.

“Serafine, is there truth to that?” Adrian speaks out of turn; shattering the fragile quiet. It’s not his time to speak, something whispers at the shell of Nadya’s ear, he knows what he is.

Like the ballroom itself waits on bated breath for Cadence to act; to do something, say something — anything that will pull the world around them back into orbit. It’s the only way they’ll survive.

But he doesn’t. To be fair Serafine doesn’t either; though it’s obvious even to someone as blind as Nadya without her glasses that she’s refusing to speak. And doesn’t that just say it all.

“Why won’t you look at him?”

The vampiress whips around, hair lashing at her face like a dark hailstorm. Eyes on Nadya definitely meant to instill fear and definitely halfway to getting the job done. Too bad Nadya’s a nervous talker. “I didn’t notice it at first… but besides the apartment and the atrium you don’t look at him. Why?”

“There’s still time to stop asking questions.”

“What’ll happen if I don’t?”

“Terrible — terrible things.”

And at the end of her not-so-thinly veiled threat, Adrian finds his limit.

“Tell me I’m not hearing this —” he’s already been through so much; the pleading in his voice one step shy of desperate, “— tell me I didn’t just hear you threaten Nadya.”

“It wasn’t a threat.”

“Sure sounded like it to me,” Lily mutters.

“It was a warning.”

Then she laughs. Bitter, rueful; familiar in a way Nadya’s still a little too unmoored by literally everything happening to place properly. She proves Nadya wrong by pushing the hair out of her face with a flat palm to meet Cadence with a level stare nothing short of venomous.

“Which one of us shall have the honor, then?”

Cadence’s lips purse, but he still says nothing. If his intention is to rile her up it’s definitely working… and then some.

“For a man with a reputation built on actions over words, you were always a mite chatty. I find it hard to believe centuries of old habits are so easily restrained.”

It was a revelation Nadya couldn’t have held in even if she tried; even if her life was on the line. But now, standing here, feeling the building rage in Serafine’s curling accent — she would give that same life to take it back. Because there’s no way this ends with a rousing debate and firm handshake.

And because… because maybe if she’d just kept her damn mouth shut they could have avoided this, here; and everything still yet to come.

Serafine steps back. Here’s a power in her space. All Nadya can think of is a cobra rearing back to flare its hood.

“Si c'est le jeu auquel vous souhaitez jouer, qu'il en soit ainsi… Monsieur D’or.”

Nadya’s struggling here, sans subtitles as she is, but she knows just enough about fancy perfumes to catch the name.

Mister Gold? What is this, a fairy tale spinoff series?

They all watch — a captive audience — as Serafine throws Cadence a malicious sneer. “Were I naive enough to call this coincidence, I would be better off for it. But we have been at this dance for too long, you and I. But you played your part well; well enough to fool even the Bloodkeeper. Your Benevolent God must be so proud.

“At first I thought you were playing the worst sort of game. Some ruse you thought to be clever — wearing the facade of a decent man when you and I know you are everything but. I hoped to bide my time here, to dissect your intentions from afar. You are not the only one who can play pretend.”

She bites the inside of her cheek hard enough to bleed; staining crimson along the seam of her lips. “But this… this is too much, even for you. You’ve never been one to let your depravities fall under a different name. No… you are too proud for that. You know it, as I know it. As I know you. The real you — the monster hidden under golden hair and gilded lies. How else was I to track you for as long as I did; to ensure I would get the vengeance I was owed?”

She pauses and waits for an answer. Something prideful of her own nature in the gleam of her eyes but the longer she waits the faster it fades. Cadence refuses to take her bait.

“Fine. Just tell me. Tell me how you did it.”

“How I did what?” asks Cadence warily. Nadya can’t understand why he isn’t rebutting these accusations. Why he isn’t as distraught as he had been in front of Valdas, or as angry as he had been in front of Isseya? She’s not exactly making light conversation.

Pleading ignorance only enrages her more. “How did you survive? I barely escaped that damned trench with my life! Hours I spent in the darkness, turning over every man dead and dying, and I could not find you. You died. You were turned to ash!”

He fixes her with a hard stare and a chin raised in defiance.

“Obviously not.”

His short answers are just enough to keep pushing her. Maybe that’s what he wants, Nadya thinks; after all — the more she talks the more she accuses; the more she fills in the missing pieces of the puzzle.

And only Serafine knows what it will look like when it is completed. For now.

Serafine wavers; his confidence (no matter how projected or pretend) forces her to step back once, twice until she stumbles over the rusted forgotten half of a crossbow.

Cadence only takes pity on her because he needs her to keep going.

“I woke up in a military hospital in New Orleans, Louisiana in 1918. I don’t know how or why I ended up there. I had no memory, no tags… no home. But very much alive. Whatever method you used to try and end my life, if that is truly what happened, didn’t stick.”

Maybe it didn’t stick, but there was definitely damage done. And Nadya sees it now clear as day.

Before she’s even half a step forward Lily’s hand grasps for her wrist; a familiar shackle. Nadya eases herself free without looking back. Can’t shake the feeling that if she looks away everything will shatter and be so much worse.

“Serafine…” She stands between them; powerful creatures fast enough to move no matter where she stands, strong enough to snap her like a twig for getting in their way. How the heck is it I always end up somewhere here-adjacent?

“How did you try to kill him?” But all that gets her is a dazed flutter of Serafine’s dark lashes; not an answer. So Nadya pushes.

“Did you try and kill him psychically?”

The answer rests there, written across her face plain as day.

“He needed to suffer; as I suffered, as we all suffered because of his selfish acts.”

Nadya nods slowly. “You made him remember your pain.”

Serafine bares gritted teeth at them. Nadya catches the hint of her fangs in the dim candlelight and fights against the shivers trying to roll down her spine.

“Non,” she protests, “I forced him to know it — to feel it for the first time! It was justice that he should die knowing the pain he brought down on his own kind!”

Another piece. “But something stopped you from finishing the job.”

There’s so much pain hovering in the air around them. Pain of the memories still echoing through her mind. Pain from Serafine in waves on a roiling sea. Pain from Cadence as he looks down at Nadya with an uncomfortable uncertainty. “How do you…?”

“She wanted you to remember. Instead, whatever happened… it —”

With closed eyes Cadence bows his head; he understands now.

“It made me forget.”

Maybe it would have been kinder never to know. But what’s done is done.

Lily clears her throat, hand half-raised. “Did I miss something before intermission or… am I the only one with zero clue on what’s happening right now?”

“Seven hundred years is a long time to live, isn’t it.”

Serafine drags herself back into focus. Out of the pain of the past to the here and now. To where Jax may not be accusing her with words, but his intentions scream a whole other story.

She nods once. “Longer than most of you could even begin to fathom.”

“‘Most of us?’” His eyebrows raise slightly. He shifts Adrian into a better angle against his side. “That’s rather specific of you.”

“There was once a time when the wrong words meant a swift death in halls such as these.”

“So why do I have a feeling you’re choosing the right ones?”

There’s a shift in her; the barest movement of her body and more the way her soul moves under her skin. One little shift and that’s all it takes for Nadya to see this version of Serafine for the third time. Three times too many, if anyone cares to ask.

Because the glower she faces at Jax is nothing less than every kind of anger — and then some. “What would you know? Dwelling in the gutters, hiding from your own kind. At least we had the dignity to hide from our enemies rather than make enemies of ourselves.”

‘Serafine…’ Adrian’s lips curl around her name but there’s no sound. No, sound would mean he has something to say, and he doesn’t. What is there to say at a sight like this?

But to everyone’s surprise Jax stands his ground. “But that’s not entirely true, is it?”

Nadya swallows the heart-sized lump in her throat. “What do you mean?”

“What I mean is that I did quite a bit of reading down here. My intention was to try and get as much background on this Order as possible. I’m not exactly the type to sit around and twiddle my thumbs up my ass, if you’ve noticed.

“Now don’t get me wrong — I hate Gaius as much as the next guy. But he did his due diligence when it came to war. I found a ledger. Page after page filled with detailed logs of recon. missions meant to track the movement of the Knights—or the Order, I don’t care—that all ended the same way. Randomly they made about as much sense as everything going on right here and now. But put them together and they started to look less like random hunts and more like a pursuit.”

Jax jerks his head aside to Cadence; his head still cast downward. “I’ve been good since we got here; not a gamble to pin me to. But I’d go all in and bet those pursuits, most of ‘em leading up to a couple of months before your big event, were all about finding one really dumb sonuvabitch.”

“The Dawnslayer…” Nadya whispers — quickly slapping her hand over her mouth like that will suck the words back in. But it won’t. It doesn’t.

“All of this —” Serafine steps back with arms spread wide and open; as though looking out to the death scattered around them will somehow detract from her fresh tears, “— was ruined! My City, my home, a careless casualty in a selfish war of pride and egos! He invited them here. Led them to our very gates! All for the thrill of battle and the glory it would bring him!

“And—ha—wouldn’t you believe it — he miscalculated the enemy’s numbers. Hundreds of Knights descended on us, more than I had ever seen together! Fledglings I had taken under my wing — friends I had known for hundreds of years — they were all ripped from me in a deluge of fire and wrath!

“I watched them burn, Adrian!” Bright red eyes blurry with tears, the emotions in her throat so thick she’s on the cusp of choking and that only makes Serafine scream all the louder. “They did not NEED to die! We lost everything! Our home! Our heritage! Our kingdom and city! Our blood seeped so far into the fucking ground and we never—never—recovered from it!

“He deserved to feel their pain — my pain! He deserved to suffer consequences for his actions!”

Adrian steadies himself with a shaky breath. Gently he eases away from Jax, holds still for fear of collapsing, but if one of them has to be strong… of course he’ll offer himself up.

“Killing him wouldn’t have done that, Serafine,” and Nadya almost chokes hearing that; knowing the different tune he’d been singing not long enough ago — seeing her Adrian again, “I know in the moment, maybe… it may have seemed like the answer. But —”

“Killing him wasn’t his punishment.” Her conviction throws him off kilter only briefly; that’s more than enough.

“I don’t understand…”

“I do.”

Even Serafine looks at Cadence in shock. There’s a newfound peace in his voice and acceptance clear in his eyes. Strides slow and measured, he passes Nadya right on by and closes the gap between himself and Serafine. She flinches when he gets too close; not unlike a wounded animal.

Palm turned up, he brushes away the long streaks of tears on her right cheek. “Men like that… there’s always a part of them that wants to die, I think. Their lives don’t really mean much to them. So you find what does; you find what they care about. And you hurt that instead. Right, Mademoiselle?”

At first she doesn’t answer. Instead she waits, and waits, and waits for the inevitable trap to bear down on her. When none comes… all she manages is a nod.

“That was the easy part. You already knew what he cared about. Just like you already knew exactly how to hurt them so deeply, so intensely they would never recover. You took him from them, right? Because it was only fair… and because you knew they would be too broken to continue on.”

Cadence pries off his glasses with his free hand and holds the frames with delicate care. With closed eyes he leans forward — down to her. Serafine sucks in a breath, feels the pressure of his palm cupping her face, and trembles when their foreheads meet.

“After all…” Seconds, minutes, maybe even years pass until, finally, his eyes open just barely. Enough to seek her out through lowered lashes and hold her gaze. To keep her there, practically cradled in his arms. Even as his hand slides down and presses an impossible weight against her throat.

“There is no Trinity without three.”

[fyeahwildfire]

Before Among the Dead

Chapter 2

Two days later, your life changed forever with Ez’s mother being murdered and Ez going to jail for killing a cop. His plans to spend the rest of his life with you were halted.

With you returning back to San Francisco, you promised Ez you would visit him and wait for him until he got out. Although he told you not to, you didn’t listen. Ez was the love of your life and your first love.

With Christmas approaching, Victoria planned a Christmas party for her family. However, her plans were interrupted when a Shimada assassin appeared, killing Maseo and injuring Tatsu.

Shortly after, the assassin kidnapped hostages and threatened to kill them if the Angel of Death didn’t meet him. You eventually arrived and freed the hostages. You then battled the assassin, but was nearly killed in the confrontation. 

He revealed himself to be your older half-brother Hanzo, using your humanity against you. He stabbed you with his knife. You barely escaped by knocking him out.

You called your father for aid and revealed your identity to him. He was displeased upon knowing you were parading around the city as a vigilante, but he also had his suspicions. He could not judge you as it would be hypocritical, you were leaving a trail of bodies, but you were also saving the weak and innocent while he sold weapons to the Mayans, SAMCRO, and the government.

Six weeks later, you caught word that the Yakuza was targeting your father, who was in Charming selling weapons to SAMCRO. Once the attack began, you interfered saving the lives of your father and SAMCRO, while driving the Yakuza to retreat.

A year later, you graduated from Stanford and threw yourself into vigilantism. Your father helped you on your crusade as he knew this was a way for you to coop with Ez being in jail.

You continued to train on your own in hopes of intervening and foiling all of the Shimada’s assassination attempts. During one of the interventions you met with a Europol agent named Sara, who had been investigating the Shimada clan. Together, you both sought to dismantle the clan.

However, you were arrested and abducted by other Europol agents. Feeling betrayed, Sara assured you that she was still on your side.

Not long after, the Shimada ninjas infiltrated the Europol safe house, where you were being held, in attempt to kill you and everyone inside. Sara freed you and together you managed to escape, but you suffered from near-fatal wounds.

Sara had taken you to a motel to hide and allow you to recover. With you unconscious, she implanted a tracking device, as the Shimada ninja assassins were not long behind. Unable to fend them off and protect you, she hide outside the motel until back up arrived to help her.

By the time back up arrived, Hanzo and the other ninjas had already captured you and took you to Lord Shimada to be executed and be branded as a traitor. During the transport back, you used your ninja techniques to heal your own wounds.

At the Shimada retreat, a bucket filled with water splashed on you. You awoke to see yourself bound to a pole in the middle of the courtyard by a thick rope that bite into your flesh.

Lord Shimada stood before you, as well as the rest of the clan, down to the youngest of them. They watched silently. You noticed the ugly scar that ran diagonally across Lord Shimada’s face.

“Your life is meaningless compared to the survival of the clan. Because of it, we have endured for hundreds of years and will endure hundreds more.” Lord Shimada looked to the rest. “Weakness compels strength. Betrayal begets blood. This is the way of the ninja assassin.”

He turned to you, “I have waited many years for this moment.”

“Keep waiting bitch!” You seethed.

Lord Shimada hit you hard. “You will suffer for five days, one day for each year you defied me.”

His hand jutted deep inside your gut, “For five days, everyone here will make you suffer. You will live through it all, you will feel through it all. You will know pain like no other human being has ever known.”

Blood gurgles up through your mouth and flows down your chin, as Lord Shimada twisted something in your belly.

“Your death will be remember for a thousand years.”

Sara and Europol Special Forces used the tracking device to locate you, they attacked your former allies. Sara had freed you from your bindings.

You go in search for Lord Shimada to avenge Harumi, but end up coming across Hanzo and other ninjas. You proceeded to kill every single one, but left your older-brother Hanzo severely injured. You couldn’t kill him, you knew the risk and you were willing to take it.

You finally confronted Lord Shimada in a sword duel. He called you a disgrace and spoke ill about Harumi, how her “weakness” rubbed off on you. Enraged, you use shadow-blending to kill your former mentor.

With the Shimada clan defeated, you finally felt free. You were no longer a slave or bound to a master… you became a Ronin.

Shortly after this, you targeted a real estate developer who built poor-quality and dangerous homes in Charming. However, the real estate developer was kidnapped by a wannabe vigilante and was executed while filming on a video via a website.

The next day, the wannabe vigilante targeted and captured the VP of SAMCRO Jax Teller. With the help of your father, you were able to intervene and save Jax’s life. With him thanking you, you immediately told him you were not going to make a habit in saving his life. He was a criminal and one day you would go after him. You then dropped the wannabe vigilante off at the police station.

A week later, you visited Ez in jail as much as he loved seeing you. He couldn’t ask you to waiting for him. He wanted you to follow your dreams and so in order to keep you from coming back. He decided to break things off with you. You didn’t take it that well as you knew he was just trying to push you away.

Shortly afterwards, you visit Shado, Papa Reyes, and Angel in Santo Padre. You revealed that Ez had broken things off with you, Papa Reyes and Angel were disappointed in Ez’s decision, but accepted it. They had told you, you were still welcomed into their family and if you needed anything, they would be there for you.

After leaving the Reyes family, you tracked down a man named Javier who was working for the Salazar cartel. They dealt with cocaine and sex trafficking. Javier and a few other members had planned on transporting a group of young women into shipping containers and threatened to torture them if they resisted in any way. You intervened and attacked the Salazar crew.

With all the gangsters now eviscerated, you freed the women and lead them towards the police station.

Afterwards, Rose and Lydia are among a group and are held as hostages inside a museum. You donned your costume and rescued your sisters before handing the terrorists over to the police, who were surprised as you didn’t keep most of your victims alive.

The next day, you managed to locate your 4 year old half-brother Micah. He and his mother were being held hostage by none other than Hanzo, who was threatening to kill them both if you didn’t meet him. No doubt he was trying to get revenge for what you did to the clan.

Upon arriving, you begged Hanzo not to harm Micah and his mother. His hate and vengeance was towards you not them. In your palm was a single shuriken.

Instead of listening to your pleas, Hanzo kills Micah’s mother with his sword. The shuriken in your palm abruptly fanned into many like a deck of cards. Your arm whipped as the shuriken lashed and cut into Hanzo’s flesh.

Hanzo moves with you, matching your speed and ferocity and the ability to disappear within the darkness. Swords clashed against each other. Blood falls. You blocked a sword thrust from him and you dodged around a hail of shuriken.

Your swords continued to crash back and forth, sending sparks flying. Hanzo takes advantage of your tired and wounded state. His blade connected with your side. He ripped his sword free and you stumbled backwards. Your life’s blood dripping down.

Hanzo smiles with pride, “This is the end for you, sister.”

You dodged his blow and lashed out at him, you sword makes contact with his side, just like his had. You pulled your sword free and saw his blood hit the concrete. You attacked, defended, and attacked again.

Hanzo managed to dislodge your sword from your hand, leaving you to use your kyoketsu-shoge to defend yourself. He attacks only for you to block his attack. As he brings his sword around, you get a loop of chain around the sword and it locked tight.

Your faces inches from each other as you both spun. You had taken this advantage to use your hidden blade in your sleeve. The steel drives into Hanzo’s heart. Hanzo stands for a moment, then slumps dead to the concrete floor.

You approached your younger brother Micah and revealed your identity to him. You had promised you wouldn’t harm him. You then called your father seeing as you were losing a lot of blood and it was unsafe to drive.

Later that night, your father gathered the necessary herbs to allow you to recover. He then stitched you while Micah was upstairs with your mother and sisters. Your secret was no longer hidden from your mother, she was by no means accepting it like your father had.

A few days later, your family organized a funeral for Micah’s mother. You watched from afar and felt responsible that Micah had lost his mother. Maybe if you had killed Hanzo before, none of this would have happened. After the funeral, your mother and father spoke of adopting Micah seeing as he had no other family.

2 Months later, you and your family relocated to Atlanta Georgia. To provide an alibi for your vigilante crusade, you planned to turn an old warehouse into a nightclub.

During your patrol through the city, you heard your mother’s and sister’s cries. You rushed over to see they were being mugged. One of the attackers slammed your mother’s head against the wall and pulled out their knife. You engaged the criminal in a fight, throwing yourself off the fire escape ladder.

The other two noticed and tried to intervene. You were able to use your heightened senses to predict when their attacks were coming and fought the three. With two left unconscious, you wrapped your kyoketsu-shoge chain around the last mugger and knocked him out with a final kick in front of your mother and sister’s. You then proceeded to call the police as you decided to change your lifestyle.

Shortly after this, while working your mother found a child who had similar DNA as you, your sisters, and Micah. She met your 13 year old half-brother Hiro in a foster home, there she was informed that his parents had died in a car crash. With evidence pointing that he had living half-siblings. Your mother did everything she could to unite Hiro with his long lost half-siblings.

After four months, Hiro was introduced to you, your sisters, and little Micah. With Hiro being the last biological child of your biological bastard of a father, you felt an overwhelming sense of pride, knowing you all weren’t alone. You were all finally together and nothing was going to separate you.

Nine months later, your parents are out of town and in Texas conducting business, when the undead apocalypse hit. You were forced to look after your younger siblings while evading the dead.

Before you left the confines of your home, you had your sibling’s bag important necessities only. Grabbing the first aids, weapons, food and water supplies, you load them in the back of the SUV. You place your leather costume in one of your bags as well as the bow, arrows, sword, and kyoketsu-shoge in the back of the SUV.

After inspecting your siblings clothing and shoe attire, you write down a message for your father just in case before leaving. Instead of going to the refugee center you make a break for the highway. You knew it would be swarmed with people who were ill.

You managed to get your siblings out safely before the military helicopters bombed Atlanta in hopes to quarantine the outbreak. On the highway, you met a group of people who had been stopped by a roadblock, they asked you and your sibling’s questions about Atlanta. Lydia replied that it had been over-runned and you barely managed to get them out.

A few weeks later, Shane gradually became the group’s leader as he was a former cop. You sit on the side lines observing in case you needed to protect your brother’s and sister’s.

One of the survivors, a guy named Glenn had tried to befriend you. Not seeing him as a potential threat you accept but keep your distance. To most people it would seem you were shy and timid, but to Lydia it was the complete opposite. You were waiting for something to happen.

Rose had quickly befriended Carl and Sofia. Lydia had befriended Amy. You and your brother’s Hiro and Micah stayed together, unless you had to hunt.

Three weeks pass, you and Glenn helped a man named Rick, who had fallen of his horse and was forced to retreat inside a tank. 

With Glenn guiding Rick through the radio, you climbed down the ladders and met with Rick.

Together the three of you made it back to the department store, where the three of you met up with the other survivors.

Shortly after, you and the survivors made it back to camp, where Rick revealed he dropped a bag of guns and Merle was still handcuffed to the ventilation pipe. Rick asked you and Glenn to go because of your knowledge with the city. T-Dog volunteered to go as well as he blamed himself for Merle.

There were complications with the mission as Merle had cut off his own hand and was nowhere to be found. Glenn was also captured by a group of survivors.

In the end, Glenn was set free and Rick passed some guns to the nursing home staff. You all discover the vehicle you used to get into the city was missing. Rick believed it was Merle, who was going to take his vengeance back to the camp.

Later, when the group feasted on fish, Amy and Rose decided they needed to use the bathroom in the RV. As soon as Rose was finished she had gotten bit by an unseen walker.

Amy had rushed over to help but ended up getting bit as well. You, Rick, Glenn, and T-Dog arrived…but you were too late.

The remaining survivors decided to burn the Walkers, though Glenn insisted that friends should be buried. You and your siblings surrounded and mourned Rose, while Andrea cradled Amy.

Neither of you are willing to let anyone near their bodies. It is only until they turn into walkers that you and Andrea decided to shoot them in the head.

Shortly after, you all decide to head to the CDC in hopes of searching for a cure. There Dr. Edwin Jenner performs blood tests and offers food and wine, as well as hot showers.

The next morning, Jenner showed you and the group brain scans of his wife. He revealed he did not know what the disease was or how to cure it.

You noticed the count down and asked. It turned out the CDC’s generators were running out of fuel. When they hit empty, the building would self-destruct in order to contain all the viruses and diseases.

Jenner allowed you and the group to flee. However, Jacqui ended up staying behind as she was afraid to end up like Amy, Rose, or Jim. You and the group watch as the CDC exploded.

[thefallenlilith]

TURNING TO THE MOON (2/?)

Kamilah x MC (Millie)

Part 1

....

For four days in a row Kamilah had fallen asleep while she had been working, which in itself was unusual, but each day she’d had dreams of her future; of these snippets of a contented life with a young woman she had only known for barely a month.

The logical part of her brain had to constantly remind herself that she still didn't fully know Millie, because the emotional side remembered exactly what it was like to be entirely in love with her.

It was hard to ignore.

Now was probably the time to admit that these were not just dreams, because they were far too vivid and specific for there not to be something else at work.

The previous three dreams she'd had, Millie had turned into the sun at the moment that Kamilah had felt her most content, and then she'd felt herself turn to dust. This was the first time something had spoken to her though.

Or maybe it really was just her subconscious telling her that she should accept that happiness, for her, was only ever going to be an illusion. Especially with a human.

The chirp of her intercom interrupted her thoughts.

"Ms Sayeed, your lunch has arrived."

Kamilah rolled her neck, mostly to try and remove the thoughts from her mind. "Yes, Evie, send her in."

A young auburn haired woman was ushered into her office by her smirking secretary.

She would admonish Evie for her behaviour, but she was the rarest of vampires, in that she actually enjoyed menial tasks, and she was very good at them. So Kamilah forgave the few, small, unprofessional moments she had.

As the door shut, the young woman took several hesitant steps before coming to a sudden stop halfway between the desk and the exit.

"Would you like something to drink?" Kamilah asked as she stood and walked towards the redhead.

"No thank you." The woman shook her head; her eyes trained on her as she moved closer. "I'm Leigh."

Kamilah pursed her lips. She didn't like it when her food had a name. Evie should've informed the young woman of this.

"Oh, wait, sorry! I shouldn't have said that! I blurt when I'm nervous or excited."

Kamilah really didn't care which one of those she was. "It's fine. Are you ready?"

The young woman nodded and tilted her head to the side.

At least her food had managed to get something right, she thought as she sunk her teeth into a clean, unfragranced neck, and began to drink. A second later her approval disappeared when the redhead's hands went straight onto Kamilah's hips.

Carefully, so she wouldn't spook her, she took hold of the woman’s wrists and held them firmly by her side; but then the inappropriate noises began, and she had to pull away.

She pricked her finger with her fang and healed her bite marks. "Thank you." She said as she turned back towards her desk. "Evie, will compensate you for your trouble."

"That was... Uh... Quicker than I thought it would be."

"Yes, well, it seems as though I was not as hungry as I thought."

"Oh. Eyes bigger than your belly, as my mom says." She chuckled as she patted her stomach.

Kamilah forced her face to be as neutral as she could. "Indeed."

The woman thanked her unnecessarily, and spun on her heel towards the exit. As soon as she opened the door, all annoyance left Kamilah as she saw Millie standing in the adjoining office; her gaze following the young woman leaving, and then to Kamilah. Her eyebrow quirked and she had an amused smile.

"Millie's here!" Evie shouted.

"Yes. I can see. Thank you."

Her girlfriend snorted a laugh as she crossed the threshold and slammed the door behind her. "You know, I'm beginning to think that you have a type." She walked straight up to Kamilah and perched herself on the desk next to her.

"Which is?"

"Young, redhead and, perky."

"I... Hadn't actually considered that." She was surprised by the revelation. And thinking about it, this was only a recent taste. "Does it bother you?"

"Why would it?"

"As you just pointed out, I apparently have a type."

Millie shrugged and gave her wicked smile before she leaned down to kiss her. It reminded Kamilah of her dream.

"That wasn't an answer."

Millie let out a sigh. "Am I bothered you have a type? No."

Kamilah spun in her chair to face Millie, and pulled her onto her lap. "I sense a 'but'."

Millie snorted loudly. "Butt sense!"

Kamilah didn't know why it was funny, but she was amused by her girlfriend's reaction.

It was these silly moments that made her feelings grow for this young woman; which was strange, because before meeting her, she found this behaviour immature and tiresome.

"Sorry." Millie said, wrapping her arms around Kamilah's neck, and snuggled into her. "I'm not bothered exactly. Just, a little jealous I guess."

"Of what?"

"It's stupid."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. Tell me anyway."

"Okay." Millie blew out a breath. "I just get bummed thinking that I have to share you. And before you say anything, I know that they're just, a snack, to you, but it's still super intimate. I've only been fed on once, and -"

Kamilah straightened up abruptly, and growled. "Who fed on you?"

She wasn't blind. Practically every vampire she'd seen while Millie was around drooled over her. Adrian, Lily and Jax included.

"Whoa!" Millie tightened her grip on Kamilah so she didn't fall on her ass. "It was Lily! She'd just had some hangry frenzied blood lust thing. She needed to eat!"

"Did she attack you?"

"No! I, offered."

"That was extremely dangerous. She could have killed you if she had lost control. Don't do that again."

Millie's brows shot up, and leaned back to fully look at her. "Is that an order?"

Kamilah noted the incredulous tone in her voice, and studied her face for a few moments. "No. I'm sorry. Think of it more as a request, rather than an command. I'm quite attached to you, and I'd rather nothing happened to you."

The command, it seemed, would have to be directed at the baby vampire instead.

"Awww! You lurve me." Millie grinned as she manoeuvred herself so that she was straddling her.

"I wouldn't go that far." Kamilah deadpanned, hoping Millie couldn't tell she was lying.

"Sure. Whatever you say, My Queen." Her girlfriend cupped her face and brushed her thumbs over Kamilah's lips before pulling her in for a long, slow passionate kiss.

Kamilah closed her eyes, and her hands found their way under Millie's shirt, following the trail up her stomach until she reached the lacy bra. She'd been admonished more than once for ruining the other woman's underwear - which had been replaced - but she had kept her impatience in check after she was told that a strong breeze had given some construction workers a free show. Annoyingly, Millie had refused to tell her where these construction workers were located.

So now she removed the bothersome underwear the old fashioned way. While they were in her office at least. Although it took a great deal restraint, especially like now while Millie was moaning into her mouth, and her hips were undulating against her own.

"Ms Sayeed. It's six o'clock."

She let out an irritated grunt, and begrudgingly pulled away from the kiss. "We should get home."

Millie cocked her head and raised an eyebrow in a silent question.

"What?”

"Nothing!" She looked like the proverbial cat that got the cream, and gave Kamilah a quick peck on the lips before extracting herself from her lap. "What is this thing that's happening tonight?"

"Officially, it's a conclave of various clans from other cities in the United States. It is meant as a platform to discuss local and national issues. In reality it's an excuse for a party."

"Sounds like any other government to me. You sure you want me there? Last time that many vampires were all in one place, all hell broke loose."

"Well, with Vega no longer being an issue and Nicole incarcerated, the clanless are now Clan Matsuo; and the decreased number of ferals in the city now, I think it's safe to say that won't happen again."

"So the only thing I have to be worried about is a large group of drunken vampires being super creepy around me. That sounds like oodles of fun."

"I'll make sure that doesn't happen. They'll know that you're mine." Kamilah paused, then corrected herself. "That you're with me. Not that you belong to me."

"Not a great save, but kudos for trying." Millie gave her a thumbs up. "What time is this shindig happening?"

"In three hours."

"Is that why we have to go, home, so we can get gussied up?"

"Yes. Why did you emphasize the word 'home' like that?"

"I didn't. Let's go!" Millie turned and marched out of the office; only remembering to straighten her clothes after she had passed Evie's desk.

Kamilah rolled her eyes and followed after her.

Her designer and hair stylist were waiting for them in the lobby of her building, and they snapped to attention as she walked by, towards the elevator.

"Did you bring all the dresses I asked for, Samantha?"

"Yes, Ms Sayeed." The tall brunette nodded.

"Esteban, I need you to focus on Miss Taylor's hair."

"Hey, what's wrong with how it is now?" Millie sulked.

"It's... Unruly."

"Yeah? So's your face!" She stared at Kamilah defiantly for a second and then sagged. "No it's not. Your face is very lovely."

"Hmm." Kamilah smirked. "Thank you for saying so."

"You're very welcome. So what you going to do with my mane then, Esteban?"

"That would be Ms Sayeed's decision." The blonde, sun-kissed man answered with a Spanish accent that Kamilah had noticed was wildly inconsistent. Probably because his name was actually Steve, and he was from Queens.

She suppressed a smile as she watched Millie's face contort in annoyance at her stylist.

"I think what Esteban means is that he will show you his portfolio, and you can decide yourself."

The man's eyes went wide and nodded. "Yes, that is exactly what I meant."

Her girlfriend narrowed her gaze at the man. "Good! I think your going to have to work real hard to build up the rapport we built up Esteban; you know, those precious moments between us getting in the car, and you talking." She pointed a finger at him, and he looked like he was about to have a panic attack.

The ding of the doors opening interrupted the scene, and Kamilah took hold of Millie's hand and headed towards the main entrance of her penthouse.

"Not everyone appreciates your sense of humour, Miss Taylor."

"They can suck it."

Kamilah laughed as she pulled out the ring of keys, and hesitated. Before she could even think about it, she touched the part of the door that she had cracked in her dream.

"Hey?" Millie asked quietly. "Are you... Are you okay?"

"Yes. Of course. Let's prepare for the evening shall we?"

Once inside, she showed the three humans into one of the spare rooms she had, and made her way to the kitchen. After scanning the area for any sign of the mess she knew would be there ten years from now, she pulled out her phone.

As much as she didn't like the idea, she needed counsel from someone who would be able to determine whether these were dreams, or visions. Unfortunately, witches were not known for cooperating with vampires, but she felt it was worth the risk.

Millie was worth the risk.

(A/N: So my writing style is basically dumb, slow burn fluff with a plot that you need a humorously large magnifying glass, and a deerstalker hat to spot. Just fair warning :))

[stillthewordgirl]

LOT/CC fic: Subterfuge (ch. 6 of 6)

Last chapter! Many thanks to @larielromeniel​ for the betas. Can also be read here at AO3. (I’m behind at FF.net, sorry.)

Subtitle: "Five Times Sara and Len Nearly Got Busted--and One Time They Did." Immediate follow-up to "Date Night." Sara and Len are trying to figure out their new relationship without cluing their teammates in quite yet. That, however, is easier said than done.

It seems like the geographic South Pole should be quiet. Especially now, at the very tail end of 1911, not so long after the first men to ever step foot here have left.

In reality, though, the wind never ends, never stops howling, never stops its ceaseless sweep across the frozen plains. It’s unnerving, and the men hadn’t stayed long, making their mark, taking their photos, then heading for relative safety, for accolades and their own measure of fame.

They’d been thoroughly unaware of the conflict that arose behind them, the ambush set up by those in the ships that were just out of sight, for the other ship that came roaring in to protect the men.

And they were unaware of what came after.

Not so much longer, not at all, the roar of a timeship’s engine rises again over the never-ending wind, and the sound as it settles to the ground, then the rise of voices calling to each other, urgency in every word.

The terrain is no longer flat here; jagged spires and massive chunks of ice rise from the plains, where none were before. There are three gaping areas, as if something large had been encased in each but broken free, although whatever those objects had been, they’re gone now.

The people who’ve emerged from the timeship—a ship just about the size and shape of those three gaping holes—seem to be looking for something with increasing determination. Eventually, they find it, in the thickest part of the ridge of ice that forms sort of a semicircle around the area.

They find him.

“Sara! He’s here!”

The voices rise again, and with them, after a moment, the sound of tools and even lasers chipping away at ice, carefully, bit by bit, until…

“He’s blue.” The voice is hushed. “Guys…”

“Be careful. Don’t do any more damage…do the rest manually…”

“I’m through!”

Fingers scrabble for the hand that’s been chipped out of the ice, gingerly closing over icy flesh. “He’s…he’s frozen. No pulse. Sara…”

“Get him out of there!” The grief in the voice is cloaked in command. “He’s always cold…his powers protect him…”

“But that’s just a shell of ice usually…”

“Jax, Stein, Mick…now that we can see better, can you melt most of the ice around him, so we can chip away more? And Ray can use his lasers?”

“I ain’t good at the fine work, Boss, but I can do that. Kid? Professor?”

“With you, Mick.”

The only noise for a while after that is the rush of fire, low murmurs, then more chipping.

“Clear his head, make sure he can breathe…”

“But he’s not breathing…”

“If we get him warmed up again, he’ll start.”

“Sara…”

“Do it!”

He’s cold.

He hasn’t felt cold in…months? Years? Not since the accident.

And it was an accident, really, he hadn’t meant for any of it to happen, not like that. He’d been arrogant and stupid and a little too enthralled with the joy of tinkering and possible one-upmanship, but he hadn’t wanted to hurt anyone. Not even the Flash, to be honest, it was just the next step in their unending game of cat and mouse…

He’s cold, but then there’s…warm? The sensation is so weird in the context that his thoughts, moving slow and sluggishly, don’t register it as what it is at first.

He only remembers the ice.

He remembers…

Watching the ship rise into the sky, leaving him behind, although no one knows it yet. And it’s OK, it’s OK, because he’s using these misbegotten powers to save them, this team he’s come to care for, this woman he’s come to love.

Lifting his hands to the sky, pulling on his powers like he never has before, raising a wall of ice to stop the time pirates who’d ambushed them, the pirates teaming up to take out the ship and the team that’s been hampering their efforts.

His ice overtaking the ships and it probably won’t keep them down for good, or even for long, but it will let the Waverider, outnumbered and outgunned, get away. But he can’t raise that much ice without his control slipping, the ice overtaking him as well, but that’s OK too. If they just get away…

The ice—

The warmth—

Hurts. Feels like fire, like burning (Mick, I’m so sorry, Mick…) across nerve endings desensitized by the extreme cold. He takes a quick, shallow breath—the first in a while, although he doesn’t realize it at the moment—and lets it out.

“Ow,” he breathes, the noise nearly inaudible even to him.

“Did you hear that?

“Hear what?”

“Be quiet, Haircut! Listen…”

Mick? He tries to form the word. It doesn’t quite happen.

“He moved!”

“Len! Can you hear me?”

Sara sounds upset. He doesn’t want that. He tries to reach for her, but nothing’s working. And his eyes won’t open. Why won’t his eyes open? He frowns, vaguely aware that even that expression is barely a twitch of his lips.

“Saaaa-aahhh…”

“We’re going to get you out, Len. You’re going to be OK, you idiot. Just…just hang in there…”

There’s a wash of warm air across his face (ow) and Len tries again to open his eyes. It seems to take forever, and use far too much energy, but eventually, he manages, barely.

Everything’s blurry, seen through the ice crystals still clinging to his lashes, and he can’t seem to focus anyway. He has an impression of color, of movement, of people jostling around him, and then she’s right there, in the center, blue parka, golden hair, pale face, blue eyes staring right at him.

“Len,” Sara says again. “Stay with me.”

She reaches out, through the ice that still holds him, and rests her fingertips against his left cheekbone, the only thing she can get to. The touch almost burns, it feels so warm, and Len almost closes his eyes again, remembering just in time to try to keep them open. Just another minute.

“Sah-ra,” he manages, sounding a little better, he thinks. “Pir…pir…”

“Gone for now. You saved us. Len…”

But the haze is rising again, and no matter how hard he tries to keep his eyes open, it’s not happening. He tries to say something else, but his mouth isn’t working, and…

And then he’s drifting away again, hot and cold, pain and sweet oblivion, Sara Lance’s blue eyes, shining with both determination and tears, the last thing he sees.

He’s warm when he wakes again. There’s no pain, but he’s very, very tired, so exhausted he can barely force his eyes open to take in his surroundings, although the “beep” of monitors has already given him a clue.

Medbay. He’s in one of those uncomfortable bed/chairs that’s he’s never been able to figure out the practicality of, but right now, he couldn’t move if he tried. And…he turns his head just a little, the movement as exhausting as running the length of Central City…

Sara’s sitting in the chair next to him, looking as weary as he’s ever seen her, eyes red-rimmed and tired, hair bundled up in a messy knot on the top of her head. But she’s watching him in a way that suggests she’s been doing that for hours, and the flicker of her eyes when his gaze meets hers is nearly imperceptible.

“You stupid hero,” she greets him quietly. “Welcome back.”

Len regards her a long moment, uncertain what to say, uncertain through the haze of fatigue if he can even speak. He’d accepted his death, standing there in the snow, if it meant the team would get away, wouldn’t face a violent, fiery death at the hands of the combined pirates and their massed firepower. But he’d never thought about how Sara, living, would react to that.

The original Leonard hasn’t stood between them in a while, but Len thinks he’s here now.

After a moment, Sara shakes her head, then reaches out and very gently touches his nearest hand. When he doesn’t move or flinch (distantly, he remembers how much it hurt when they started thawing him), she wraps her fingers around it, holding on with a grip that would be painful if it was much tighter.

“You…you were frozen. You should be dead,” she tells him bluntly. “But…your powers, they apparently kept your body healing when the frostbite tried to set in and kept your core warm, so you held on. Did you know that would happen?”

He’s pretty sure she reads the answer on his face. Well, he’d suspected something like that might happen, in a way, given what happened to Mi…given what he’s seen of other powers like his. But that hadn’t been what he was thinking about when he’d made his stand at the pole.

He’d expected to die.

“Why did you do that?” Sara asked after another moment, her tone bleak. And Len can tell she’ll wait as long as needed this time for him to find the words and strength to answer.

“They’da shot us…you outta the sky,” he mumbles, after a moment, the words barely coherent. “Too many. An’…” He pauses, longer than he originally means to, collecting himself.

“We were in my element,” he manages slowly, enunciating against the tendency to slur things right now. “I could do something about it. And I did.”

“And you nearly died.”

Easy enough to read the word unspoken at the end of that sentence. He gives her a lopsided, weary smile. “Again.”

But Sara’s eyes flash and her fingers tighten on his for a second before she actually surges to her feet, scowling down at him like an avenging angel. Len blinks at her, wondering what he’s missed, and how his brain is still moving slowly enough for him to be so clueless about it.

“No, you,” she bites out. “You, Len. You nearly died. You were frozen and blue inside a chunk of ice, and I nearly lost you.” She takes a breath as he blinks again. “My teammate, my friend, my lover, the…the man I’ve been falling in love with. You.”

Len stares at her, waiting for his still-frozen-feeling brain to catch up.

“Oh,” he says finally, aware that that’s really a pretty lame thing to say right now, but unable to manage anything else. “Oh.”

Something about the syllable—or his expression—though, apparently makes it enough. Sara’s mouth twitches, and she reaches out to touch his face, much like she’d done earlier, through the ice.

“But I didn’t,” she says with a sigh. “Lose you, I mean. And please don’t go pulling anything like that again. OK? I can handle…I can handle you leaving, if you have to. Just not like that.”

How else is he supposed to response to that?

“I…OK,” Len manages after a moment. “I…” He knows what he needs to say, knows what he wants to say, but his apparently still-thawing brain isn’t managing anything even remotely near coherence.

So he just blurts it out. “Love you.” And then when she stares at him: “Um…” She’d said that, right? First? Just a minute ago? More or less?

OK, double down. “I love you, Sara.” He shifts up on his elbows a little more, fighting a little dizziness, keeping his eyes on her face, the words coming easier. “You’re badass and you’re amazing…” Deep breath. “…and you’re gorgeous and you’re freakin’ awesome in bed…and other places…” OK, maybe he’s still a bit lightheaded and maybe Gideon’s given him some of the good painkillers, but it’s true. “…and I’ve been falling for you since you guys found me back in your weird National City. I…” He stops. Sara’s still staring at him. “Um. I can keep going?”

That gets a smile, finally. Sara pauses another moment, then moves even closer. Len watches her, bemused, as she seems to size up the medbay bed and him…then sits down on the edge and swings her feet up onto it, pushing him over a little and lying down next to him.

“Hey,” Len manages good-naturedly as she jostles him, lowering himself back down to the bed, “invalid here!” But Sara’s got her arms around him now, her face buried in the hollow between his shoulder and his neck, and from the noises she’s making, she can’t seem to decide whether she wants to laugh or cry.

OK, he decides. Third option. And he turns toward her, ducks his head, and kisses her, his cracked and slightly painful lips meeting her lips, slightly salty with tears. The sting seems only fitting, the most minor of punishments for his many sins, and he deepens the kiss after only a moment, his hand cradling Sara’s jaw. She hums in amusement, pulls back just far enough to whisper “idiot” again, and then kisses him harder as they lie there tomorrow in the medbay bed, both managing to convey a depth of emotion without any further words at all.

“A-hem.”

Somewhere, in the unoccupied part of Len’s mind, part of his consciousness catalogs the quiet voice as belonging to Professor Stein. Welp, everyone else has walked in on them at this point, so why not? Sara hasn’t pulled away, so he doesn’t either, figuring the older man will give up after a moment.

“A-hem.”

Or not.

The amused and slightly louder clearing of the throat isn’t what makes them pull away from each other and look toward the doorway, though. No, it’s the low hum of laughter—Mick’s snort, Ray’s not-quite-a-giggle, Amaya’s quiet chuckle, Jax’s snicker, Nate’s stifled guffaw—together with that noise that makes them react, rising on elbows to stare.

And the team, the whole damned team, is standing there, watching them with expressions of varied smugness and amusement. Not a one of them looks surprised, of course, though Len’s sort of impressed they’d all managed to cram into the room without their captain or the convalescent noticing. (Well, OK, the two of them had been sorta occupied. But still.)

Mick, at the front, is grinning, even though—Len squints suspiciously—even though there’s a sheen to the bigger man’s eyes. Amaya glances up at Mick, smiling, then back at them, winking.

“Uh,” Len manages when Sara, laughing quietly, leans back against his pillow, putting a hand over her face and otherwise staying quiet. “Hi?” He pauses, eyeing the smirking group. “Surprise?”

That gets a louder bark of laughter from Mick, drowning out any softer agreement.

“You two really thought we didn’t know?” he scoffs, looking around at the rest of the team with a fond “can you believe these idiots?” expression. “Seriously?”

“You were wearing his shirt the morning I can back after your ‘first date,’ ” Amaya speaks up drily, eyeing Sara. “Far too big for you. And nothing under it.”

Sara sits up indignantly. “I was on my way to the shower…”

“…and your hair was a mess, in a certain…way…”

“And you freakin’ quoted Han Solo at me, Snart…”

“Well, it fit.”

“The hotel,” Nate added solemnly, raising his hand, still looking rather…traumatized. “Sara, where were you? Under the bed?”

“Well…”

Len’s staring at the sheepish-looking Ray. “Was there even an error message from Gideon that day?”

“Um.” The inventor is slightly red. “Not really. I…”

“We dared him,” Mick says, grinning, even as Nate happily adds “He just can’t resist a double-dog dare.”

“I had nothing to do with it,” the ship’s AI says primly, even as Ray yelps “Hey!” and glares up at her receptors.

Jax holds up his hands, shaking his head. “Don’t look at me! I didn’t say a word.” He gives them a smirk. “But the cat was already pretty much outta the bag at that point.”

Len, whose head is spinning just a little, flops back down onto the pillows, a combination of amused and chagrined. He hears Sara chuckle next to him, even if she reaches out to thread her fingers through his again.

“OK, OK, you’re made your point,” he hears her tell the team, mock-sternly. “Now, let the hero of the hour rest…”

“Didn’t look much like you two were resting…”

“She’s right,” Mick barks, cutting off Nate’s snide comment and sounding very much like Sara’s second in command. “Let ‘im be. And Snart…”

Not ‘Weird Snart?’ Len opens an eye and regards the other man, surprised to see a distinctly soft expression on Mick’s face—at least, much softer than usual. The rest of the team is arrayed behind and around him, looking serious, for once.

“Yer a member of this team,” Mick says quietly. “You already were, but man…you saved us. And whatever you got waiting for you back at…I ain’t gonna say ‘home,’ ‘cause far as we’re all concerned, this’s yer home now…your Earth, well, we’re gonna help fix it.” He nods firmly as murmurs of agreement rise around him. “Whatever we got to do. Got it?”

Len stares at him. At them. The team.

His team.

“Got it,” he returns just as quietly, as he feels Sara suck in a quick breath and squeeze his hand. “Thanks, Mick. All of you.”

They leave then, though not so quietly as they’d come in, heading out the door into the Waverider’s corridors. Mick holds Len’s eyes a moment longer, then nods again, turning to go. Amaya, at his side, turns back a moment, crossing to the bed and, much to Len’s surprise, leaning over to kiss his forehead gently. Then she winks again, at him and at Sara, and follows the others out.

Sara, after a startled moment, makes a thoughtful “huh” sound, then meets Len’s eyes. They study each other a long moment, and then Sara nods, recognizing that words aren’t needed, not at the time. She leans over and kisses him softly, then, pulling away to get to her feet after only a moment.

“Get some rest, hero,” she tells him, smiling as he groans. “I’ll see you later.”

And then it’s quiet. Len leans back against the pillows, feeling the fatigue he’d battled past earlier returning. Well, he’d pushed his powers far past the limits they’d ever reached before. It’s not surprising. Hell, he’s still surprised he’s even alive.

As Gideon dims the lights without even being asked, he closes his eyes.

His team.

His home.

His love.

His…family.

Yes, he thinks, even as he starts to drift off. His.

And he’s going to fight for them.

[foxfaceintheflesh]

Lost Boy Goes Home. Oneshot LoT fanfic with Jax and Sara Lance

Okay so this is my first time writing an Legends fanfiction, but after finishing the last episode of Season 3, I was compelled to write one. Sorry if its terrible, but I’m trying :3 Here y’all go enjoy and let me know what you think. 

One shot: Lost Boy(Jax) and Sara Lance

Summary: While watching the last episode, or LoT, it occurred to me, that what if Sara Lance was like an peter pan figure/character, not wanting to deal with emotions, an warrior, but also an leader who looks out for her friends(kinda working from my own defintion of peter pan, not the traditional version where he kills deserters) but she cares for her gang of lost boys and girls. However, This comes in when Jax confronts Sara about leaving. This won’t be exactly from the show, but I want to build from it in this oneshot, and see if I could add onto this stand alone chapter/piece one day, to see Sara as Peter Pan.

“Never say goodbye, because goodbye means going away and going away means forgetting”. Peter Pan by JM Barrie.

word count: 1947 

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Sara sat in her leather armchair, legs sprawled over the arm of the chair, as she thought absentmindedly, looking at the wall of the library. She tapped at the arm of the chair with the pads of her fingers trying to distract herself from the flood of emotions that have been overwhelming her team, as well as her from the previous mission. She’s been trying not to think of it, with the mental resistance she could muster. She was always terrible at dealing with her feelings, and Stein’s death was no different. Sighing, she took out her pocket knife, admiring the edge, exhaling slowly. She couldn’t begin to imagine the toll it was taking on Jax. She had avoided talking about it with the team, advising them to keep their feelings in boxes, as long as the mission at hand persisted. But that wouldn’t be enough to deter Jax from making rash decisions, or trying to tell an young Marty his fate. But what good would that serve? She pressed her finger and traced it long the blade of the knife. She couldn’t save her sister from her death, but it was not fair that she couldn’t save Jax from the same fate  or not being able to save Marty. She squeezed her eyes tight. Thinking about Laurel, felt distant to her, but like an old scar, she could still feel where it came from and how it formed and it would never heal. But she never had an psychic connection such as the likes of Jax and Stein. Sara groaned. God knows she can’t deal with emotions, especially not right now, and maybe…not ever again. Maybe the void suited her better where she coudn’t feel anything, she thought darkly, and then shook her head. She would rather be able to feel, than not feel at all. Besides, she’s  been dead at least three times by now, being in an void is an walk in the park.

“Sara? Hey, this might be an bad time, but I need to talk to you.” Jax walked in without her noticing. God she should have been able to notice, she is an trained assassin God’s sake. Maybe being in the void really did throw her off her groove.

“I know what you may be thinking, You can’t go,” Sara faced to turn him in her chair, and got up slowly making her way towards him. Jax was like an little brother she never had, she could subdue him if she liked, she knew, and keep him there against his will. In her mind, she was debating the countless techniques that would keep him from leaving the room, as well as leaving the Waverider. Jax shook his head.

“I know what you’re thinking, okay? You could try to convince me all you want, but I need to go and live my life, and I don’t think I can do this here on the Waverider. There’s too many memories of Grey here. You know this, Sara. I need to do what’s best for me.” Sara looked him in the eyes carefully, internally grimacing that her little brother was taller than her, but she saw that he was certain and knew what he needed to do.

“You’ve been an valuable incredible asset to this team, Jax,” she said softly, but resolutely, “ And I do not blame you for wanting to leave. You will always be apart of this wild dysfunctional loving family, and I know that you know that too.”

“I know,” he spoke solemnly. “It’s just something I have to do. If I stay here, I don’t know if I would ever be honest with myself that I’m able to give up Grey. He.. he was so dedicated to the team, he risked his life for mine. I spent three years with that psychic connection, and I doubt I will ever have that type of connection again with anyone, Sara, even if there is someone else who comes along to start another Firestorm. Three years with that old man…Martin was the father I never had. We had our moments where we couldn’t stand each other, but he always had my back, and I had his.” Jax inhales swiftly as he fights the overwhelming urge to cry, and Sara can see it in his facial features as his lips tighten and his eyelids lower.  She wraps an arm around his shoulders bringing him in close. His breathing sounds more like hyperventilating Jax is trying to will himself not to cry, as Sara touches his back stroking it softly and slowly trying to comfort him without words. Jax grasps onto her arm, letting out soft sobs that steadily increase. Sara holds him as he cries, giving him sisterly support, but she doesn’t allow herself to cry. She’s never been one for crying anyway, she will deal with Grey’s loss in her own way, but she isn’t focused on that for the moment, she keeps herself grounded in trying to comfort Jax. Time slogs on slowly as Jax wipes his tears and pulls himself apart from Sara.

“I don’t know if I could tell the team. I’m never been one for goodbyes.”

“Trust me, I understand completely. There will be time to tell them, don’t worry.” She uses one of her special smiles, meant only for him. It is an don’t worry its going to be alright sister smile, trusting and secure. Jax tries to believe her smile.

Jax goes to collect his things in his quarters, in the lab where Grey’s firestorm formula still lurks on the board, in the library, everywhere he can think of, where he may have left something or hung out in. He can’t imagine leaving the Waverider. It has been his home for the past year and a half. He can’t even wrap his mind around trying to go back to Central City. Yet as he picks up a picture of him and Grey, his heart catches, and his throat begins to close up, but he shares an bittersweet smile with the framed photograph. Wherever life may lead him, he will never forget the well spoken brillant professor, who shared an connection unlike any other. He wrapped his fingers tenderly around the frame and placed in some old newspapers to make sure it wouldn’t be harmed. Placing it in his bag, we walked out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind him.  Walking into the main room which was not lit for some strange reason, he shook his head and reached for an light switch, as everyone yelled “Surprise!”, making Jax stumble back slightly.  

“Guys, you didn’t have to…” he smiles despite himself as Ray and Amaya chat and exchange remarks, Sara gives her trademark Sara Lance smile.

“You really didn’t think I would let you go that easily, did you?” she smirks and wraps an arm around his shoulders. “Come on, at least let us celebrate first, you and the holidays.

“Ah Merry Yuletide, everyone!” Ray shouts cheerily. Mick grunts and raises an bottle of beer in response.

“I believe its called Christmas nowadays, Haircut.”

“Same thing!”

“An  Holiday feast,” Sara interrupts their banter, nodding to Jax. “I haven’t forgotten about Hanukkah, I swear.”

“We won’t forget about dear Grey,” Amaya speaks in her uplifting rhythmic voice, getting up from her place between Nate and Zari, and also puts an arm around Jax. He smiles at her earnestly and gives her an hug, she holds on tight.

“Never.” Nate and Ray chorus softly, but everyone hears them and nods in agreement, even Sara. Leo nods from his designated corner, he has helped with the last mission, but it is clear he doesn’t have the same bond as the rest of the team members do with Jax.

“Okay, enough with the long faces, lets go eat,” Sara rounds up everyone as they make their way to the table, the area festively decorated with two trees lined in ornaments, and tinsel. Colorful lights make the Waverider look merry as everyone gathers around the long table. While eating, everyone exchanges stories about Martin and Jax is able to crack an smile. These people are his family and he is reminded of that as they try in their way to cheer him up and chat with him. Zari has an arm around his shoulders and laughs how she tells everyone else how she demolished him in the video game they had played earlier that day.  Ray cheerily tells everyone about being inside Beebo when he had his Atom suit. Nate remarks how he misses not having his viking beard.

“I wanna grow one. Trust me, it would help with the dignified Professor of History look.”

Amaya rolls her eyes and laughs, as Mick smirks and gives an hearty chuckle.

“Not on my watch, because I will definitely shave it while you sleep,” Mick growls as he takes an swig of beer, giving Leo an pointed glare. “And for next time, Don’t take away my beer.”

Sara watched in her chair at the head of the table(naturally) over her team as they interacted with each other and tried their best to make Jax feel better. She stayed silent and looked at Jax, mustering an smile, and he met her gaze. He gave her a small minimal nod, and she returned it, as she continued to oversee her team.

After the dinner was over, she walked with Jax a Waverider landed.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” he told her as he kept walking forward, stepping onto the grass, after  the time ship landed.

“ I know, but I need to.” Her piercing blue eyes locked onto his brown ones. He shrugged and shouldered his bag, walking off the ship, and then turned to look at her more directly.

“ I can’t thank you enough, the honor is all mine to have you as an member of our team, one of the legends,” she gave an absent smile. Jax knew she was trying to put on an brave face, to be the Sara Lance he knew and loved, looking up to as the fierce warrior badass big sister. But he knew better than anyone she was trying to hide how she really felt.

“I’ll never be truly gone, Sara, you know that, I could come back at any time, so I’m not technically leaving you or never coming back. You and the team.. You’ll always be my family, no matter what and I want you to know that.”

“ I know. I’m just gonna miss seeing you on board.”

“And I’m gonna miss seeing you as my captain, Sara.” She gave an shaky bright smile.

“C’mere you,” She wrapped him in his arms for an tight bear hug, and he smiled, and after an few moments, they broke apart, and he looked her in the eyes.

“Captain,” he gave her an small salute, his left hand over his brow.

“Jackson Jefferson, you served the legends, the waverider and me well and I can never thank you enough for that.” She stepped forward and kissed his cheek. “Get home safely, and thank your mom for me. You better text me when you get home.” Sara chastised with an grin as Jax mock groaned and shook his head.

“You know I will, Sara. Good luck with everything.” With that, he strode forward on to Central City to see his mom and his family. Sara watched him go. She couldn’t bring herself to say goodbye. She wasn’t much for them either, like Jax. Because goodbye means going away for her, and going away means eventually forgetting, and she could never forget Jax or Firestorm.