#seriously those thoughts need to stay inside your noggin

[reversesymmetry]

Rammstein is on my shit list for today.

[unityghost]

Masquerade

Oh look, I wrote part 29 of Post-Asmodeus Sabriel Feels.

Based on the following prompt from Archive of Our Own user PersonFace:

Gabe hides his true thoughts and pretends to make progress, and, to his surprise, he's good at it. Not, they let it go, not, they're not noticing, he's really good at hiding away, and putting on a face. Even Sam is fooled. Gabe is conflicted on how to feel about that.

I'll confess that some of this doesn't follow the prompt to the letter, but I did my very best. And of course I am sorry for how overdue it is.

“No,” said Sam.

“Yes,” said Gabriel.

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. “I told you, you’re not coming to fight.”

“I heard what you said, which is why I lied and agreed I’d lay low. Thing is, I don’t want to see you flop because you lacked the knowledge to keep from getting slaughtered.”

Sam’s face softened. “You gave us all the information you could.”

He and Gabriel stood alone in a motel room near the Uinta mountain ranges in Utah. It had been a long while since Gabriel had spent a significant amount of time out west, and indeed, they planned on being here for no longer than a few days. Dean had already left to start the car, and Sam was blocking the doorway so that Gabriel couldn’t accompany them.

Gabriel knew that Sam had a point: since healing an injury on Sam’s hand two weeks previously, after a witch and her miniscule but bloodthirsty familiar had attacked him, Gabriel had been exhausted.

Even so:

“You really don’t know much about these sons of bitches,” Gabriel reminded Sam, trying not to sound like he was pleading. “And I’ve seen them before; I would be able to take one on.”

But Sam held firm. “You’ve already done plenty to help us along, all right? You taught us more about the satori than Wikipedia and all the Japanese folklore books combined. We don’t need you to fight; we just needed that guidance. Okay? You really aren’t ready for this. And I’m not saying that to try and make you feel bad. When you’re stronger, I won’t make you stay put. Promise.”

“In other words, I’d slow you guys down.” Before Sam could protest, Gabriel added, “Fine. You’re hardly off the mark, so fine. I’ll entertain myself while you go hunt down your furry lunatic. Remember, get a good swing in, and if it doesn’t know what’s coming then you’ve got yourself an extra three seconds or so to avoid being eaten.”

Sam nodded, pretending Gabriel hadn’t told him this already. “Sure thing.”

“Did you meditate? Clear that noggin of yours? The satori feed on thoughts. Especially complex, contemplative thought.”

“Dean and I both meditated.”

“Like I said: complex and contemplative. I’m not as worried about Dean.”

Sam glanced down at his watch. “Gabriel, I’ve got to go. But while we’re gone, put your feet up. Let yourself relax for a while. I promise we’ll be okay.”

“Did I say you wouldn’t be?”

Sam smiled, and just missed the raised middle finger cast behind him on his way out the door.

Gabriel waited for the engine to fade before he checked his pocket to ensure the room key was there.

Yes, he was worn out; yes, he was low on grace; and yes - he had enough sense to understand that Sam had been generous in allowing Gabriel to come at all when he was sure to slow the others down. Nevertheless, it was true that Gabriel knew these creatures better than Sam did: he’d dealt with them more than once when they had free reign over the Central Pangean Mountains, long before humankind could take advantage of any opportunity to mess with them.

Gabriel was familiar with what scant literature was accessible to the public these days; and no matter how many times he insisted that not only were these monsters more cunning than the Winchesters’ average prey, but quicker and more ferocious, neither of them took the warnings seriously.

“I’m not questioning whether you can take them on,” Gabriel had told them. “I’m just trying to get you to believe me when I tell you that you gotta prepare for more than you’ve been able to read up on.”

“So tell us more,” Dean prodded, watching him in the rearview mirror.

“I told you all I know! It’s not like I’ve ever sat down to have lunch with one. But I’ve seen what they can do to humans, and …” Gabriel paused, remembering. “A couple of times I was able to chase them off.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “And the other times?”

Gabriel waved a dismissive hand. “Doesn’t matter.” He didn’t want to admit that the “other times” had seen him standing out of sight, watching the carnage and unwilling to get involved. “I just hope you had good reflexes in Little League.”

“We’ve got everything we need,” Sam assured him from the passenger seat. “Plenty of options in the trunk.”

“I’m not worried about what weapon you use. What matters is how fast you can swing it. The goal is to take the sucker off guard, not to destroy it.”

“Then what’s the point of this trip anyway?” Dean demanded.

“See, Sam? Your brother gets what I’m trying to say.”

“As long as we can chase it off,” Sam reminded them both. “Look, Gabriel - I hear you. We don’t know how to kill it. So we’re going to immobilize it.”

“Right.” Gabriel sat back and closed his eyes. He could feel a headache coming on. “With your fancy-pants spellwork.”

“Rowena told us - ”

“Rowena knows how to chase them into isolated sprawls of water. They can’t swim, and that’s all well and good, but what happens after that? Did she do a follow-up study? For all we know, this could be the same one she took down all those years ago. You want me to page the coral reefs, see if they found a mangy corpse over yonder?”

Sam sighed. “You’re just gonna have to trust us. We’re doing the best we can.”

“I know. That’s why I insisted on tagging along.”

Outside of the motel, Gabriel halted, breathing in the mountain air. Not for the first time, he was discombobulated at the subtleties his near-graceless body picked up in a way it never would have before: the way this oxygen was thinner than that of Kansas, the chilly tickle of fall as background noise in the latter half of summer. These minute changes affected him in strange ways, altering his heartbeat and sometimes making him feel as though he was surrounded by unfamiliar presences.

He began walking. It had been a long time since he’d set foot in the Uinta Mountain ranges. Memories flickered at the back of his mind - memories that might have taken place prehistorically or may have happened a mere few centuries before. It was hard to tell sometimes which memories fell where, considering that his time with Asmodeus was a history in itself that felt both very old and very fresh.

That’s how it works when there’s no end in sight, he thought, making his way down the road toward the mountains themselves, where he knew the monster would be lurking.

It was an hour before he got a text message from Sam. Nothing yet. Probably gonna be a few hours.

“Cool,” Gabriel said to the mountain air. “Because this won’t take me long at all. Good thing one of us knows what we’re doing.”

He couldn’t recall the last time he’d been on rolling, open grass like this. Lebanon was beige; the mountain ranges were a pure, warm green.

He wished he could move positions the way he used to. It was conceivable that he might manage some distance should he attempt to fly, but there was no point in wasting his energy on that, especially since he wasn’t sure whether he had the grace he needed to take this creature down. He couldn’t remember having ever seen one killed another way; all that could be done, it seemed - at least for humankind - was to frighten the satori off with whatever object an unwitting traveler could swat at it.

What Gabriel had wanted to say to Sam, and hadn’t, was: “If it’s a choice between you getting clawed to death and turned into a meal and me taking myself out with a last gasp for grace, why are we even debating?”

How’s it going? Gabriel texted, and Sam wrote: I’ll let you know when we get rid of it.

That terse reply, indicative of irritation (although Gabriel, sensitive as he was these days, knew he wasn’t a good assessor of others’ emotions), was nothing compared to what he would face when Sam found out he’d tried to tackle the satori on his own. The real upside to Gabriel not making it through this in one piece was that he wouldn’t have to deal with punishment.

Sam’s not going to punish you, something inside of him retorted, but he focused on taking one step after another. He was tired, but he could feel that his grace was present. Maybe healing Sam’s hand had stimulated it.

Doesn’t matter. Just gotta get this done.

When he felt the satori, his neck prickled and his heartbeat sped up. It seemed that his ability to sense unwelcome supernatural presences had either never left or been reignited at some point in the recovery from his time in Hell.

Or perhaps he was attuned to predators lying in wait.

“Come on,” Gabriel called. “Eat me.”

All birdsong ceased as Gabriel turned around.

The creature stared at him and smiled.

“You’re gross,” Gabriel told it. “You look like if the offspring of Mr. Potato Head and an orangutan got its finger caught in an electric socket.”

The goblin-esque animal-thing only grinned wider. Its eye sockets were still and hollow in a furry face.

When it spoke, its voice was high and tight as if it had inhaled from a balloon, and the words came rapidly:

“The blackness thickens,” it said. “No one will be here for long; it’s all pretend. Not one of them wants you; not one of them cares. It’s a good thing you came along to destroy the enemy: make yourself useful and perhaps they’ll let you stay. Ask nicely and they’ll allow you to keep stealing from them.”

Gabriel’s skin crawled. “What are you doing, you mangy freak?”

“It has not been able to read your mind before,” the beast replied. Gabriel, who could only assume that “it” meant the satori itself, could no longer tell whether it was actually looking at him or whether those grotesque holes were sightless. The horrid animal looked dead. “You used to be an angel. When you were more than this, it couldn’t get into your head. But look: is this not proof of what you have become?”

“I’m here to - ”

“And yet if you use what little grace swims in your near-human flesh, what use will you be? Perhaps it is time; the hour has come to show that you’re a failure, and they’ll have the excuse they so sorely need to throw you away. It can eat you, too; if you are human, and it can read you, then it can swallow you as well.”

Gabriel stepped backward.

Chill out, he told himself. The son of a bitch is screwing with you.

“The son of a bitch is not screwing with you,” the creature said. “Your memories - I smell them on your breath.” The satori cackled - harsh, like retching. “You fear that he is still inside of you. Who would have thought that you, once so esteemed and powerful, might buckle? Paralysis maintains its grip upon the creature you once were.”

Paralysis indeed, Gabriel thought as he found himself struggling to respond with either speech or movement.

The creature gave its choking laugh again. “You see? You are frozen. It knows. It knows better than anyone.”

“Wrong.” Gabriel steeled himself for either overwhelming exhaustion or worse. He felt a pang of annoyance that he couldn’t do this the way he used to. “No one knows better than yours truly.”

The flash of grace hit the creature hard, and Gabriel felt some of it ricochet back to him. It hurt, but wasn’t enough to knock him over. That came only after he saw the satori crumple to the ground, its eye sockets just as lifeless as they had been a few seconds before.

Gabriel found his face pressed into the dirt. Every muscle ached in a peculiarly human manner.

He experimented with standing up and found that, although it was a sluggish process, it wasn’t impossible. He was dizzy but he could walk.

He took breaks here and there to lean against a tree and catch his breath. The birds had started singing again.

During one of these brief siestas, he sent a message to Sam:

I know you’ll hate me and I don’t blame you but I squashed the big furry toad thing.

A few moments later, Sam replied: Where are you???

Almost to the motel.

What were you thinking???

Gabriel didn’t reply. Sam sent another message only a few seconds after that: We can find you if you stay put. Don’t move.

I’m almost back; calm down.

He could picture Sam closing his eyes and inhaling, trying not to show that he was frustrated.

Are you sure? Sam asked.

Yes. Chill. I’ll meet you there.

He didn’t check the messages after that.

Gabriel arrived first. The motel room smelled like coarse carpeting and the salami sandwiches Dean had eaten in Gabriel and Sam’s room several hours before.

Gabriel groaned and lay down on one of the two beds. He wished he could fall asleep then and there, but he knew he was about to be in trouble.

“You didn’t even take a weapon?” Dean cried when the brothers returned. “You were just banking on being able to lasso him with possibly nonexistent angel milk?”

Sam strode over to the bed. “Did you really - ”

“I’m sorry. I know. I didn’t want you to get slaughtered by something I knew I could get rid of for you, okay? Sue me.”

Sam cupped his hands over his face and exhaled. “Did it do anything to you?”

“No.”

“It didn’t hurt you?”

“If it had, then my answer would’ve been yes. I’m fine, Sam. I’m good. And I knew you’d be upset with me, but I would rather you be mad than dead.”

“I’m not upset with you; I just - you should have told me you were going to risk your neck like that.”

“Well, I asked your permission to risk my neck and you said no! What was I supposed to do, Sam? What’s done is done and we’re all still freakin’ alive, so go shower and stop yelling at me.”

He knew that Sam wasn’t yelling, but to Gabriel it sounded dangerously close.

Sam glanced at Dean.

“He’s an idiot,” Dean announced.

“Come on,” Sam snapped. “That’s not helpful.”

“Neither was going after a monster without telling us first.” Dean glared at Gabriel before making his way to the exit and slamming the door behind him.

“He’s worried, that’s all,” Sam said.

“Yeah, he’s all in a tither over my safety. I could tell by the way he tried to disembowel me with his eyes.” Gabriel shoved his face into a pillow and groaned. “I know, okay? I do. I really - I mean - look, I’d be royally pissed too, but I was doing what I thought was best. I’m not sorry for that.”

“I …” Sam struggled for a moment, but all the fight seemed to have left him. “I’m glad you managed to pull it off. Just don’t do it again.”

With an effort, Gabriel sat up. “I’m not interested in standing by anymore.”

“We’ve had this talk already: you don’t owe us anything.”

“Fine.” Gabriel flopped back down. He hadn’t removed his shoes. “I just knew what had to be done in this instance. It can’t be taken back now and I’m glad you’re not dead.”

He shut his eyes, then felt the mattress sink under Sam’s weight.

“I’m sorry,” Sam told him. “It’s only that - ”

“Don’t be sorry.” Gabriel kept his eyes closed. “I knew the reaction I was in for. As if I didn’t run through this a thousand times in my head. You disowning me is more appealing than me having to dig your grave.”

“I wouldn’t disown you. You know that. I’m not mad, and if I was - ”

“You are mad. But frankly, I figured you’d be a lot worse than this.”

“You really don’t trust me, do you?”

Gabriel opened his eyes and squinted up at Sam. “I trust you. You obviously don’t have enough faith in me to help you when you need it, though.”

Sam stood up. “Maybe let’s have this conversation tomorrow.”

“No need. Go clean yourself up.”

“Take off your shoes.”

“Too tired. Not conscious.”

As he was drifting off, he felt Sam untying his sneakers.

There was little dialogue during the long trip home the following day. Dean was still tense, which surprised Gabriel, who had been ardently convinced that Sam would be furious and Dean would be relieved. Dean wasn’t worried about whether Gabriel lived or died, and someone had taken care of his dirty work for him.

There was, of course, the possibility that Dean was upset over being denied a triumphant capture. But Gabriel wasn’t particularly concerned about Dean’s feelings in this instance. What mattered was that he and Sam were both alive and well.

Gabriel slept most of the way home, and his dreams were full of eyeless beasts clawing at his face and digging soiled ape-like paws so harshly into his skull that the pressure became too much and he grew blind. In the nightmares, he tried to scream at them, but couldn’t make a sound.

There was nothing he could do, because they already knew he was afraid.

He was stiff and clammy when it was time to climb out of the car. During the extraordinarily long journey (probably not so extraordinary for them, Gabriel realized), Sam had taken Dean’s place at the wheel and Dean was staring sullenly out of the window.

“Okay back there?” Sam asked.

Gabriel nodded.

“Here - ” Sam made his way around back to open the door and help Gabriel out.

“I’m fine,” snapped Gabriel. “I can move on my own.”

He immediately felt guilty for his tone of voice, but the dreams wouldn’t leave him.

“What’s wrong?” asked Sam. “Hey, you’re all sweaty and shaky.”

“Tired from using up my grace. Think there’s probably none left.” Both halves of his explanation were true. There was no need to explain that the nightmares had made it worse.

He shoved himself out of the car and Sam reached out a hand to steady him. Gabriel stepped away before Sam could touch him.

“Gabe,” said Sam, “You look like you’re going to pass out.”

“I’m not.”

“I can tell when something’s wrong with you.”

Gabriel clenched his jaw. “Is that so?” He straightened himself and made a concerted effort to walk evenly and steadily up to the door and down the stairs into the bunker. He stumbled toward the bottom step and Sam grabbed his shoulder.

Gabriel wrenched himself away. “Jesus, Sam, I’ll tell you if something’s wrong!”

“Okay!” Sam looked alarmed. “I just - okay.”

Gabriel ignored the shame that accompanied his outburst. Sam didn’t deserve anybody shouting at him, but there could be no denying that he was right: Sam had seen Gabriel in various states of distress and knew what it looked like when he wasn’t well.

He turned away, making for his bedroom; then he paused and looked back at Sam.

“I just need a little rest,” he said. “That’s all it is. I’m on edge, all right? But I’ll be fine.”

Sam nodded. “Yeah. Go. Get some sleep. I’ll bring you something to eat later.”

“All right.” Gabriel wasn’t sure he would be able to eat, but there was no reason to make Sam more suspicious. “I’ll see you later.”

He didn’t look back this time.

That week, Gabriel made it a point to eat in front of them - especially Sam - at least once a day. He wasn’t unable to eat, and mostly it wasn’t a necessity; usually, however, he didn’t have any appetite. Besides that, hunger made him feel guilty, and sometimes he had a hard time eating without an immediate recollection of being held down and force-fed during his time with Asmodeus.

If Sam noticed that Gabriel was eating more, he didn’t say. Gabriel tried to let his mind go blank during mealtimes. Asmodeus often crept in, and he must have looked a certain way when that happened because Sam would frown.

Not one of them wants you; not one of them cares.

Gabriel forced himself to swallow, privately willing Sam to stop watching him, desperate for control over his own mind.

Is this not proof of what you have become?

Not even Sam ought to have access to his innermost thoughts and memories - not anymore.

Meanwhile, Dean’s behavior had settled into some semblance of normalcy. Gabriel had never been more thankful for his indifference; he had never taken such joy in the absence of intuitive empathy.

Then there was Castiel, who seemed mostly inclined to leave his brother alone. He sometimes looked puzzled - although that wasn’t unusual for him - but he didn’t say anything.

If Jack had any suspicions about Gabriel’s newfound stoicism, he didn’t let them show. He was cheerful and inquisitive as always, and yet - maybe from spending so much time with Cas, or perhaps because he had learned neither how to express his compassion nor how to block it - there were times he too appeared confused, not sure what to make of his uncle.

“Why are you looking at me like that, kid?” Gabriel asked him one evening.

Jack replied, “How am I looking at you?”

“Like I’m still brushing off loam from the uncanny valley.”

Jack didn’t know how to respond to that, and the subject didn’t come up again.

The four of them were sharing dinner one night when Gabriel made his decision.

“Hey,” he said to the others. “You guys all need to chill right the hell out, okay?”

Everyone turned to stare at him.

“Every time I take a bite,” Gabriel elaborated, “At least one of you watches me like you think I’m going to burst into flame. Or tears. Maybe that was warranted at one point, but I’m starting to feel like there’s something stuck in my teeth and nobody wants to tell me.”

“Your teeth look fine to me,” said Jack.

“Look,” Gabriel went on, “I get that I kind of wore myself out back in Utah, but can you fellas please stop watching my every move with those confused looks on your faces?”

Sam appeared taken aback. “Is that what we’re doing? I guess I was just …”

Slowly, looking him in the eye, Gabriel forced himself to take a bite of the pizza Dean had crafted. He had tasted it before, and although it was exceptionally good, Gabriel had a hard time with the richness of it. Had it been up to him, he would have steered clear of meals that were meant to make a person feel full. This was the first time in the last week that he had fully committed to this sort of sustenance; before that, he’d been able to get away with lighter fare.

The fact that Gabriel was able to dismiss the taste and weight of the food, that he was able to bring his mind elsewhere and ignore the spasm of nausea he had anticipated when he sat down, was encouraging.

“You were just what?” Gabriel asked when he’d swallowed.

“Uh …” Sam blinked. “Nothing. Sorry.”

“You’re used to me being a swooning maiden,” Gabriel countered. “Right now I feel fine, and your constant inspection is nothing short of creepy.”

Sam furrowed his brow, but nodded. “All right. Sorry, Gabriel. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

Gabriel took another mouthful, swallowed, and said: “Who knows? Maybe using my grace to wipe out the monster was just the kick in the pants I needed to get up and running again. I mean, hey, if I have it in me to off a predator from Jim Henson’s fever-dream, maybe I’m not in for the permanent misery that seemed inevitable before he and I faced off.”

Sam smiled, looking more at ease. “Yeah. I guess that makes sense.”

“Hey,” Dean interrupted, “You including me in that accusation? You and I have been having a great time.”

“That’s true,” Castiel agreed. He hadn’t taken any pizza, but was enjoying the company. “I’ve never seen the two of you get along so well.”

“Right?” Gabriel sat back. “So what do you have to complain about, Sam?”

“I’m not complaining, Gabriel, really.”

“Good. Because if you’ve got something to say, you can say it to me.”

For a moment he was afraid Sam was going to shout at him, although Gabriel knew that when he’d dared use that tone with Asmodeus, he deserved whatever response came his way.

Instead, he saw Sam further relax. “All right. I will.”

Sam was watchful during the remainder of the meal, although it was possible that Gabriel was only imagining as much. Sometimes he thought he felt Sam’s eyes on him, but when he looked over, Sam was just enjoying the food.

After dinner, Dean crooked a finger at Gabriel. “C’mere a minute.”

Gabriel followed him into the hall.

“What’s going on?” Dean asked, which surprised Gabriel.

“Nothing,” he replied.

“Look, I’m not complaining. I like you like this. But last week, before we left for Utah, you were afraid to ask for a napkin - and that’s even if you took five minutes to eat without Sam practically forcing it down your throat. So what gives?”

“Nothing,” Gabriel said again, wishing Dean had used different hyperbole. “Why are you harassing me about this?”

“Well, maybe if I knew what I was harassing you about it, we wouldn’t need to have this conversation.”

Gabriel stiffened. He felt betrayed. He had trusted Dean to be ignorant and unconcerned.

“I don’t know what you think you’re seeing,” Gabriel told him. “All I know is it isn’t real.”

“Maybe Sam should be the one to decide that.”

“Oh please. What’s Sam got to do with anything?”

Dean remained stone-faced.

Gabriel hardened his voice. “No one’s bothering Sam about anything. What, have you consulted him how to fix whatever imaginary problem you’ve got keeping you up at night? Asked him how to rewire his favorite disaster?”

“No,” said Dean, “Because I’d never hear the end of it from this new version of you.”

“What ‘new version’ of me? I can’t figure out if I’m being insulted.”

“Look, all I know is people don’t change like this overnight. Not without a reason.”

“Good thing I’m not people, then,” Gabriel snapped.

Dean shook his head. “Like I said, man, I don’t know what’s going on with you. Maybe it’s none of my business; I just figure you should ask Sam for help if something isn’t right.”

“I - ” Gabriel faltered. “You don’t want me to bother Sam about this, do you? Not that there’s any - but if there were, if I was - look, no one’s asking Sam for anything, okay? There’s no need, and if something was wrong with me, then he doesn’t need to do anything. Poor sap’s done enough for every lifetime he’s been put through.”

“I think he’d wanna know.”

“What would he want to know? What do you think the issue is here?”

“Well, if I knew, I wouldn’t’ve thought to bug you about it. But fine. Maybe my intuition is off.” He turned to leave, but then paused and looked back at Gabriel. “Sam would never forgive himself if you felt like you couldn’t tell him something, though.”

Gabriel stared at him. Then, more timidly, he asked: “Are you sure you haven’t mentioned anything? About … about whatever you think you see?”

“No. Should I?”

Gabriel shook his head.

“Look, Gabe,” said Dean, “He worries, but at the same time, he really wants to see you get better. He might be pulling the wool over his own eyes about this. If something happens to you and he thinks he could’ve done something to stop it, neither of you is going to be okay.”

Gabriel didn’t respond.

“I’ll see you later, Gabe,” Dean said, and left him standing in the hall with his heart beating twice as fast as it had been during dinner.

With static humming in his mind, Gabriel went back to his own bedroom. He shut the door and lay down on the bed, puzzled and frustrated by the sudden tautness in his throat. He ignored it.

He felt as though he had just been scolded, although he was reasonably confident that no such event had taken place.

Paralysis maintains its grip upon the creature you once were.

It occurred to Gabriel then that even he wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing. He allowed himself a brief indulgence in the notion that Sam really was under the impression that, for the first time in months, nothing was so wrong with Gabriel as to require immediate attention. He wondered if they could be friends without the ongoing dynamic of victim and savior, although he knew Sam would have scoffed at such a description.

Then he considered the practical implications of remaining here when he had just taken such a hit to his grace supply. He had reason to believe that it would come back - he had been entirely without grace more than once, and it always came back - but the amount of time that would take couldn’t be predicted. If he was to stay here, in the bunker, he had to have grace sooner rather than later. He remembered being without grace in Hell, and wished he could forget the punishment for such a crime. Now, in the bunker, he might not be penalized so much as …

Well, uselessness was a punishment in itself.

The hour has come to show that you’re a failure.

Gabriel sighed and closed his eyes.

They’ll have the excuse they so sorely need to throw you away.

No dreams, no nightmares, no tossing and turning: this slumber was quiet and pure.

But the next thing Gabriel knew, there were two voices calling his name; one he recognized immediately as Sam’s, and the other took him a few seconds to identify as that of Castiel. He couldn’t make out the words, and then he realized he couldn’t fully open his eyes; they had grown too heavy.

Panic set in as someone lifted him upright. He didn’t even have the strength to go rigid, let alone any power to fight back.

“Gabriel.” Sam was speaking to him in a low, hurried voice. “We’re not going to hurt you. Just wake up, all right?”

Gabriel wrenched his eyes partway open. The room was hazy. He took shallow breaths.

“Geez,” Sam told him. “Gabe, buddy, we couldn’t get you to wake up.”

Gabriel tried to ask, Why? but couldn’t make himself speak.

“It’s almost two in the afternoon,” Sam told him, “And when I came in to check on you, you just …” He trailed off.

“Wouldn’t move,” Castiel finished.

Gabriel leaned back against Sam.

“What’s going on?” Sam pressed. “I’ve never seen that happen to you before.”

When Gabriel managed to reply, his voice was hoarse. “I’ve fainted plenty.”

“This is different. Hey, keep your eyes open for a minute; we thought - ” Sam paused. “We just didn’t know what was going on.”

“Tired,” Gabriel slurred.

“This goes beyond tired, Gabriel,” said Cas.

“My grace … it’s …”

“It’s what?” Sam prodded.

“Dunno. I …” Gabriel tried to ignore the pounding in his head. “Killing the monster, the satori - ”

Sam and Castiel waited for him to continue. When Gabriel’s breath began coming a little more easily, he finished, “Maybe took some fight out of me.”

“This is why I told you not to come.” Sam didn’t sound angry - just worried, even afraid. “I know you were trying to help, but Gabriel, you were the one who said how vicious those things are. You’re not ready for something like that.”

“Through no fault of your own,” Castiel added.

Gabriel tried to push himself off of Sam and found that he was too weak.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked him. “Does anything hurt?”

“Why?” The question emerged, at last, without Gabriel even thinking about it.

“What? Why what?”

“What good’re you gonna get out of knowing what’s the matter with me?”

Sam shifted so that Gabriel was lying with his head on Sam’s lap instead of bent at an angle against his chest.

Castiel spoke up: “I suspect that Sam is simply trying to remind you that you’ve become an important part of his life, and he doesn’t want to see you suffer.”

“Well, whoop-dee-doo.”

“Gabriel …” Sam checked for a fever, then pushed stray locks of hair from Gabriel’s eyes. “I don’t understand. You seemed okay last night.”

“I’m still okay.”

“That’s obviously not true,” said Cas.

“Can you try and sit up?” Sam asked.

“Maybe.” He let Sam shift away and prop him against the pillows. As he watched Sam step back, face pale with concern, he had a moment’s doubt about his own pride.

Sit back down, he wanted to say, or I wouldn’t want to touch me either.

He closed his eyes.

“No,” Sam commanded. “Gabriel, don’t. Not yet. I want you to stay awake for now.”

When, and how, had this suddenly become too much? He knew how to frolic in lies. He knew how to make personal falsehoods into very real truths; pretending until he was no longer play-acting was a familiar process.

Why now, then, did he feel his throat tighten as he stared down at the blankets?

He was committed this time, though. He was well-versed in the warning signals of a breakdown and understood that there was no benefit in acting like a child. Sam had seen and dealt with enough, and Gabriel had debased himself so often that he couldn’t imagine anyone harboring even a modicum of respect for him at this point.

That was fine. He needed to learn not to care so much about his reputation at the bunker.

“Cas,” Sam said, “Maybe …”

“Yes. Of course.” Gabriel felt his brother watching him. “If you need me, I’m nearby. Although I suspect you know what you’re doing, Sam.”

“Thanks. I think we’ll be okay.”

Gabriel heard the door close.

“All right,” Sam said, “I know you don’t like to be coerced into talking to me, and usually I’d let up a little, but if you’re sick you need to tell me.”

“I’m not.”

“Then what happened just now?”

“Beats me. But what do you expect?” Gabriel spoke more smoothly now, but directly to the blankets. “I used up all my grace on the satori. Can you blame me for being a little out of sorts?”

“No, of course I don’t blame you. But I’m not talking about your grace. Or at least I don’t think I am.”

“Yeah? What do you think we’re discussing here, then?”

“I don’t know.” Sam looked helpless. “You seemed fine yesterday, and now you’re - I mean, how did you go from that to this? This whole week you've been ... I mean ... I don't know. I thought ... ”

“Am I not an open book to you anymore? Good.”

“What?”

“There’s no reason for you to be inside my head. There’s no reason for you to - to know any more about me, or what happened to me, than you already do.”

Sam was silent.

“I see through your strategy, Sam,” Gabriel added, still staring at the blanket. “I - when you’re quiet, you want me to talk.”

“I’m just worried.”

“You’ve made that abundantly clear, and I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t know what I can do to make you feel better about this whole thing.”

“About what whole thing? About you trying to get well?”

“Pal, if that’s what you’re looking for - for me to get back on my own two feet - then what are you complaining about? Obviously I’m better. I haven’t cried or thrown up once since we got back, and I don’t see how that’s a questionable development.”

“No, I mean, it’s not, but - ”

“But what, Sam?”

“It’s not. Really, it isn’t.”

In the moment of silence that followed, Gabriel felt such an urge to speak, to tell the truth and recount exactly what had happened in the mountains, that he tore his gaze away from the blankets and met Sam’s eyes. He now had a choice: he could say something about what had taken place, or he could lose control of himself altogether.

If there was a third option, Gabriel didn’t see it.

“I don’t want to give you a whole novel about this,” he said. “My head is killing me.”

Sam nodded.

Gabriel hesitated for a few moments longer. Then he took a deep breath and began: “When we were out in Utah, and I took down that creeptastic freakazoid, it - you know - it did what it does. It found some way into my brain, and yammered on and on about my every thought. Which wouldn’t have been a problem in and of itself if I hadn’t - if I wasn’t - well, before, when I faced one of them, it couldn’t read my mind. I was an angel and it couldn’t get in. So what does that tell you, Sam?”

Sam looked blankly at him.

“Come on, Mr. Ivy League,” Gabriel pressed. “This is measurable proof that right now, at least, I’m more human than anything else. Plus, I’ve already got one monster in my head. I don’t need another psychic bedfellow. You mean well, I know, but - but don’t you think, Sam, that you being the way you are to me might be holding me in one place? Or making me an easier target, instead of building me back up to what I used to be?”

“I’ve never thought that.”

“Well, does this change your mind? I just wrote you a whole thesis.”

“Gabriel, if you didn’t have any power then you wouldn’t have been able to take that thing down in the first place.”

“And look at how that turned out. I can barely move.”

“That’s because you haven’t given yourself a chance to recover.”

“How was I even supposed to know I needed it? I’ve been fine this last week.”

“Have you?”

“Yes!”

"I sort of wasn’t talking about the satori.”

“Oh for the love of all things holy and unholy, Sam, stop being so dramatic. I’ve had plenty of time to tunnel my way out of this.”

“Did you get through the whole week without a flashback or nightmare? You seemed like you felt pretty good. I … should I have checked?”

The guilt in Sam’s voice made Gabriel wish he’d stayed unconscious. “No.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I said no, Sam.”

“You’re not well.” There was horror and distress on Sam’s face now. “I thought - ”

“Christ, Sam, relax.”

“Why didn’t you - ”

“Because this is on me, Sam! It always has been. And that’s almost beside the point. Geez, you know - you really need to make up your mind. Am I meant to improve by eating more and learning to calm myself down, or am I supposed to hold you like a security blanket every time my engine misfires? Which is it, Sam? Should I be strengthening the muscles that Asmodeus deflated or should I keep letting you man the ship when a storm kicks in?”

“Gabriel …”

“Answer the question. I’m serious. I can’t solve this equation no matter how creative I get with it. What am I supposed to do? For me, for you, for everyone here? I need an answer and maybe you have it. I sure as all get-out have no idea what I’m supposed to do or where I’m supposed to go without messing something up.”

Gabriel thought Sam looked like he might cry. “I guess it depends.”

“No, see, that’s not how this works. Because if this was a case-by-case endeavor, one of us would have found the balance by now. No, Sam, I don’t feel good. Why’s that? I don’t feel good when I’m alone; I don’t feel good about how I act when you step in. There’s no winning for me, and for you there’s just constant sacrifice that never leads anywhere. There’s a right and a wrong answer here, and if neither of us can figure it out, then I don’t know what to do. Just stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop - stop trying to make me showcase my emotions. Maybe it works for you but it doesn’t lead to anything good for me; all it does is make me feel ashamed.”

Sam seemed at a loss for words. “I’m sorry,” he offered. “I’m not trying to make you do anything. Gabriel, I think you should just do what feels natural. If that means pretending everything’s okay, then - then fine, I guess, except I don’t think that’s what you really want.”

“Well, I don’t know what I want; as far as I’m concerned, I don’t want anything except to be more like an angel and less like a toddler.”

“I don’t think of you that way. You know that, Gabriel.”

“Sure, fine, but let’s not sugarcoat the fact that I am the way I am, and the responsibility is on me to change.”

Sam looked away, contemplating. Then he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me about what happened with the satori?”

“Because then I would’ve gotten worked up about it and so would you. You would’ve been worried about me.”

“I’m worried about you anyway.”

“Yup, I missed the mark on that one. What else is new?”

“So you think - ”

Gabriel shoved himself properly upright. “Stop it, Sam! For the love of every damn good thing left in this world, just stop it! Stop trying to coach me into a breakdown!”

Sam looked aghast. “I’m not!”

“So what are you after? You want to help? Do you want to keep me in one piece or break me into a thousand? I never know with you anymore; it - ” Gabriel took a shuddering breath and began to cry. “You know exactly what you’re doing. I’m not here for you to play with me, Sam!”

Sam stood up. “Gabriel - ”

“Is this what you want?” Gabriel raised his face so that Sam could see the tears. “You think that bullying me into showing my feelings is going to lead to success? I don’t like myself like this! I don’t want you to see and you keep on trying to open me up just like he did! Stop it, Sam! Stop it!”

“No, no - hey - ” Helplessly, Sam took his hand and Gabriel tore it away. “I - Gabriel - should I get Castiel?”

“No!”

“I don’t want you to be alone.”

“Neither do I!” Gabriel pounded the mattress with his fist. “So stay, because I need you here, and I hate you for that and I hate me for that too. I hate all of this!”

“I know you do.” Sam’s voice shook. “But you haven’t done anything wrong. Maybe I have; I don’t know. But none of this is your fault. I’m so sorry if I messed up.”

“You didn’t! I did! I don’t know! Stop it!” Gabriel took frantic breaths, tasting salt where the tears met his lips.

“You said I was like him.” Sam sounded weak. “If I ever made you feel that way, it was an accident.”

“You’re not like him; you - you’re trying to do something to me, and so was he, and I don’t know how to tell the difference between you pushing me to bleed out in front of you and him ripping me open with his bare hands!”

“I had no idea that’s what I was doing!”

“Because you’re - Sam, you’re - ” Gabriel found himself unable to breathe for a moment. When he managed it again, he said, “You’re not evil.”

That seemed to perplex Sam. “I hope not.”

“Of course you aren’t. But do you have any idea what that does to me?”

“I … no, I guess I don’t.”

Gabriel didn’t know either. He ground his teeth against the urge to scream.

No one will be here for long; it’s all pretend.

“I wasn’t like this before,” he said.

“That’s because you weren’t trapped in Hell before.”

“You’ve been trapped in Hell! And you’re nothing like this! Talk all day about how you need help, about how you have your bad dreams and your breakdowns - but you’re nothing like this, nothing like what I turned into.”

Not one of them wants you.

“That thing knew,” Gabriel wailed. “That thing knew exactly what I believe, exactly what I’m afraid of; that thing got into my head in a way even I can’t get into my head! I don’t have any control anymore, Sam - none.”

Not one of them wants you.

“That creature thought I was human, Sam,” Gabriel whispered. “Feeding on your kindness hasn’t done anything except squash me.”

Not one of them wants you.

“I know I can’t really understand what it’s like, exactly,” said Sam, “But what scares you so bad about being human? Especially if you know you aren’t, and your grace always comes back - even it’s on the slower side.”

Gabriel shook his head. “It’s not about the grace.” He swiped at his cheeks with his palms. “It’s about this.”

“About …”

Gabriel looked at him. “Do you know, and you’re just trying to get me to say it?”

“No! I’m not trying to make you say anything.”

Gabriel wasn’t sure he believed him, but lacked the energy to argue. “Well, then it’s about - it’s about the stuff in my head, and how I seem to be open season for anyone who wants a shot, for better or worse. In your case, it’s for the better; you don’t want to hurt me, or at least I don’t think you do. But you still know. You still see inside of me, and I’d give anything at all for a little emotional opacity. I’m weak, maybe as weak as I was in Hell.”

“No.”

“At least in my stupid cage I had a consistent idea of what the next day might bring. I anticipated chaos. He’d destroyed me, on purpose, for fun - so after a little while, I didn’t have to pretend I was holding myself together. Giving up the effort was easy enough; I had no choice. Well - no - unless I did have a choice, and made the wrong one. But he had power over me and I was used to being hurt. I didn’t have to play at not being vulnerable. It’s not like that anymore, Sam.”

“Shouldn’t that be a good thing?”

“You’d expect so, wouldn’t you? Me too. I’ve lost track of what’s good and what’s bad. So it’s not my grace I’m worried about. Or - no, that’s not true. I do worry about my grace, because I don’t know what the heck I’m supposed to be without it. It’s more like - it’s that worrying about my grace is almost a luxury right now. If I get to lose sleep over how much grace I have instead of how easily I get scared and lose control of myself, I count myself lucky.”

Sam frowned, trying to grasp what Gabriel was telling him.

Sometimes Sam understood, and sometimes he couldn’t relate. In this case, Gabriel suspected, Sam was at a loss because at no point in his life had he ever known genuine autonomy. With Gabriel, it was different: independence and secrecy were everything to him.

“I’m sorry,” Gabriel muttered. “I know I don’t make this easy for you.”

Sam was silent for a moment longer, then asked: “Can I tell you something?”

Gabriel froze. This wasn’t the first time he’d become immobile over the possibility of Sam explaining that no, he really couldn’t do this anymore. Perhaps this was the paralysis to which the satori had referred.

“It’s nothing bad,” Sam added hastily, in yet another demonstration of how naturally he could read Gabriel. “I just wanted to say that I don’t look down on you for being affected by your time with Asmodeus. Of course you freak out sometimes; who wouldn’t? And don’t say anything about me," he added as Gabriel opened his mouth. "I’ve been out of Hell a lot longer than you, and you were gone for so long … there’s a lot you didn’t see.” Bitterness crept into Sam’s voice. “Anyway, you can’t help what this has done to you. But hey, you know who would judge you for struggling? Asmodeus. Not me. Not any of us, but especially not me.”

Gabriel tried to respond, but there was no way to speak around the tightness in his throat and chest. The sincerity in Sam’s voice hurt him.

Finally, he managed: “You set that up to sound so dramatic.”

Sam smiled. “Sorry.”

Neither of them spoke for a while after that, although the break in conversation felt natural, not awkward.

Gabriel was fighting sleep when Sam broke the silence. “You’re convincing, you know that?”

“I’m what?”

“The way you just … slipped into your old role. I was surprised, but it didn’t seem forced. The way you spoke up for yourself at dinner last night was impressive. Normally you would’ve been scared of getting in trouble.”

“Hm.” Gabriel considered. “Well, I’ve said it before, Sam: I don’t know who or what I was before Asmodeus. Something changed; that’s all I can tell you.”

“And I was thinking - you know, even before we got back from the mountains, I saw something different. You pushed to come, and then you broke your promise about staying in the motel. I don’t know, maybe I’m off, but that’s a decision you might not have made before.”

“It was important. If something happened to you because I was too afraid to help, that would’ve been punishment on its own. It was a no-win situation so I took the option that I knew would keep you alive.”

“But you probably weren’t so sure about whether you would come out okay.” There was no accusation in Sam’s voice; he was merely making an observation.

“No,” Gabriel agreed, “I didn’t.”

Sam went on, “And it says something, doesn’t it, that you were able to put on such a good act? That’s an old talent that maybe you haven’t tapped into in a while.”

“It must not have been as good as you say, because your brother picked up on it somehow.”

Sam looked surprised. “When?”

“Last night he cornered me about how it isn’t standard to switch from empty to full in such a short span of time. Said I should go to you if I needed help.”

“Wow." Sam blinked. "I guess I don’t really know what to make of that.”

“Well, to me it means that some lucky winner always has access to my cesspit of a brain. Whether that’s you, or Dean, or Asmodeus, or a mountain-dwelling monster.”

“Oh geez, Gabriel …” Sam reached out to squeeze his shoulder. “It’s not like that, buddy.”

“Of course it is. Everybody gets a piece of me if they want it.” Gabriel turned his eyes to the sheets again, fighting tears. “And when I wasn’t whatever I am now, the satori couldn’t get into my head. Like I said - proof, Sam. Proof so concrete you could draw chalk around it. Proof.”

Sam shook his head, but didn’t seem to know what to say.

“I can’t stay awake,” Gabriel muttered, because it sounded more reasonable than When you look at me like that, you’re proving my point. “Can I rest a little bit?”

Sam hesitated. “Let me wake you up in twenty minutes. Just to make sure you’re not out cold again. Then, if you’re okay - another hour, and we can take it from there.”

“Fine.” Gabriel hated the idea of being shaken awake in such a short time, but hadn’t the stamina to argue.

Sam helped adjust Gabriel’s position so that he was lying down, then pulled the blankets around Gabriel’s shoulders. He didn’t move to leave.

If this was an instance of Sam being able to read him too easily, he didn’t want to know.

[fizzingwizard]

Episode 13! I don’t have all that much to say about it. But there were three things in particular I really liked!

Sorato moments! It may be small (I mean, they’re kids and they’ve known each other for like a day), but no one will be able to say Sora and Yamato didn’t have any development in this season!

Sora Getting Shit Done! She’s as cool as Yamato. Scratch that, she’s cooler than Yamato. She’s honest and compassionate. She’s brave like Taichi, values her friends as much as Yamato, AND she can get along with both of them. Bahahaha.

SO MANY adorable Jou&Gomamon moments this episode. Like seriously. SO MANY.

I’ll just tack some here:

More below!

So our two groups are still separated! Jumping ahead, but next week we’ll see MegaKabuterimon, and that rounds out two episodes for each group. But that still leaves Zudomon’s appearance. Just a hunch, but my guess is we’ll see him the episode after which will be the reunion episode too. If not, I suppose the groups are gonna stay separated longer, but this is my guess.

So, once again, our kids have been in this world for Not Very Long At All. It doesn’t seem like they’ve had to stop and sleep so far, though they’ve eaten a bit. Probably it’s still the same day in digital world time o.o It’s completely plausible that they’ve been sleeping and we’re just not being told about it though. This is a kids show, next week Koushirou could be like “we’ve been walking for a week!” and we’ll just have to roll with it lol. But until that happens, I’m going with it’s been about a day and almost everyone’s easily got two evolutions under their belt. Evolving is much easier in this season - Taichi and Yamato even got a Jogress already - so it’s definitely past time to throw out old concepts of how evolving work. The kids clearly have Crests, but they don’t know what they are, which means that’s a thing we’ll be seeing in the future. In spite of that, they can evolve to higher levels. So, maybe something else is in store for them when the Crests become important. Very interesting.

We are back with the trio who’s got their shit slightly more together. Except for Jou’s stomach. Was really amused by Yamato using binoculars. I assume Sora brought them. I’m so used to Taichi’s telescope, but it only makes sense that each group should have some working gear!

Also par for the course, Yamato looking at what’s ahead while Jou’s being sick and Sora’s in between helping them both :P

They find this thing. The hive of brainwashed mecha soldier bees. The person who wrote this episode has definitely had a bad run in with suzumebachi.

As they try to escape, Jou immediately falls off Birdramon.

Me: “Oh no! Someone go help him!”

Gomamon:

Me: “NO NOT YOU”

Like I know they’re partners... but Gomamon doesn’t even have hands. xD All he can do (and all he does do!) is fall together. They’re partners so it’s not surprising, but still... Wheeeeeee!

Honestly though it is just so adorable to me how useless Jou is and how hard Gomamon tries for him... even though Gomamon has a lot more excuse for being useless. I mean, he’s made for a water habitat.

Gabumon: “Jou’s with Gomamon, so he should be okay...”

-___- You know nothing, Jon Snowmon. You know nothing about how much trouble Jou can get himself in

See!?!?!?!??!?! DOES THIS LOOK LIKE THEY’RE OKAY TO YOU, GABUMON??? EAT YOUR WORDS!!!

This is what happens when you try to too hard to make a bee cute. So overdesigned xP It’s like hitting me on the head saying “I’M CUTE, LOOK AT ME!! I’M CUTE!!!” like chill dude, it’s ok. just chill

I guess it works on Sora though, she’s as concerned for this cutie pie as she is for Jou... maybe more.

We make a quick switch to group number 2 who are finally living up to my expectations for how nuts they are. Koushirou’s connection is turbulent, to use the lingo Tumblr always pisses me off with!

Mimi offers to help. “My grandpa can get you a better one!” She... she tries.

Taichi offers to help too. “Times like this you just gotta whack it!” Koushirou looks appropriately terrorized.

I’m so relieved to know Taichi and Mimi are both still batshit.

Yamato and Sora hatch a plan to save Jou by getting themselves captured too. Honestly the show doesn’t spend enough time on the cool stuff like hatching this plan! It just happens! It def got me thinking how brave and cooperative Sora is. Like, we already know Yamato is cool, and he has more experience in the digital world than the others. But Sora just rolls with it. She’s not freaking out, she’s thinking things through, and she can help strategize. 99 Adventure was like “Girls don’t need to do things like pedal swan boats or take watch at night!” This ones like “Girls can definitely do those things! As long as they are pink when they do them!”

Jou and Gomamon arrive in the hive where they are immediately separated... and Jou is thrown out with the trash. BAHAHAHA. GEEZ this show will not ease up on Jou!!

by the way... Gabumon... ARE YOU EATING YOUR WORDS YET!?!?

Sora and Yamato make it inside and hitch a ride on Garurumon...

... They both jump like this when they need to get off so Garurumon can evolve. With jumping style like that, Sorato is a ship made n heaven.

Fuck everything I said about Gomamon working best in his water habitat, IT WAS ALL A LIE. First swimming through sand, now this. Jou has LITERALLY NO EXCUSE for being as useless as he is anymore

also Wolverfish is back, I am some day going to make one of those old geocities shrine sites just for Wolverfish

They are surrounded on all sides though, so what should we do? “Go down.” Yamato, DID YOU FORGET WE ARE IN THE AIR.

Once again Sora is A-OK with all of this! Jou’s the only one having a normal human reaction to A HOLE OPENING IN THE FLOOR OF AN AIRBORNE VESSEL

Gomamon T____T Jou would be mince meat without you

It turns out that Yamato’s shitty plan wasn’t so shitty after all, because either he and Sora talked about what they’d have to do if the couldn’t stay inside the hive, or Sora is psychic. Or just that good at cleaning up after hot-headed men. Anyway yeah Birdramon to the rescue.

For a hot second there it looked like Yamato was going to be like “We don’t have time to save those Digimon” again. Which, I thought we worked through last time, so I was confused. BUT it turns out he only wanted Sora to know he’s got her number. He’s figured out she’s not the type who can turn her back when someone needs help, even if she’s got her own priorities to think about. Sora’s selfless. Yamato clues into that. AND HE TOTALLY SUPPORTS HER <3

Urrrk can Yamato do anything that isn’t Cool

I just love the way he holds them.

Sora faces off with the hive... who’s blast causes a volcanic eruption or something!

Birdramon fights back!

It’s not very effective!!!

Now as much as this is supposedly a Sora episode... she’s had some cool moments but it doesn’t feel like Her Episode as much as last week felt like Mimi’s ep, or the weeks before felt like they belonged to Taichi and Yamato. So actually, that makes it strike number two for Sora, although this episode is definitely better than episode four. It’s not fair. I’m just glad we got some new stuff for her this time, but the writers seem so determined to make her the “good girl” that they forgot character development needs to involve some stakes. So, in place of that, they just do another montage.

First Sora reflects on how useless Jou is.

Then she reflects on how hot Yamato looks when he’s totally helpless.

Then she thinks about how the two of them remind her of pitiful baby bees.

The result... Garudamon!!! Always my favorite Ultimate evolution.

It’s a laaaaaaaser battle!!!!

Yamato’s like “Holy crap I’ve got to get with this girl”

We then set up the intro for next week’s episode, with Koushirou’s computer starting to work again, though not completely. I want it to not work at ALL so Koushirou can be like “i’m no longer useful to my friends, woe is me!” and his friends can be all “Koushirou you’re my best pal no matter what!” and then he saves the day using his noggin. If it was good enough for Mimi’s grandpa it’s good enough for you.

I’m also amused to learn that in spite of apparently selling computers, Mimi’s grandpa too is an advocate of hitting them to make them work.

Agumon mimicking every adorable thing Taichi does is adorableness overload.

Taichi once again offers to smack the computer, like the Taichi of my childhood. However, he claims he’s joking. He’s a 21st century kid after all.

Agumon tells him hitting the computer will hurt his hand, so he should let Agumon do it instead T___T omg that’s the cutest thing EVER I’d give this episode ten stars for this moment alone

but ignoring adorable Taichi/Agumon and Jou/Gomamon moments, I’ll give this episode a 6.5/10. It was almost there! It really needed more Sora though! You know, the spotlight character of the week??

I just don’t feel her as convincingly as the others... which is in part intentional, I think, because that’s Sora. She doesn’t talk about her own feelings so much, she’s private, but she cares very deeply about those around her. I absolutely am with that, but I think that’s really challenging to write, and it wouldn’t bother me so much if we were getting more development in small ways for all the kids all the time. Instead the primary way is these spotlight episodes. We had them in 99 Adventure too, but there was more dialogue between the kids. Watching this episode, I had a thought like “This reminds me of a formulaic Pokemon episode.” As in, there’s someone to rescue, we rescue them, it has little to no consequence for us on a personal level and next week we won’t even mention it happened. At least this episode, they did mention Neemon’s group, to show how this is a pattern for Sora. I’m gonna cross my fingers that means Sora’s going to come out big in the future, we just gotta believe in her and wait. That being said, I’m not trying to be negative, I am also happy that we got these bits for her at all, and especially that we got it confirmed that Yamato sees through her as much as she sees through him!

Next week’s preview...

Kabuterimon: koushirou, you are helpless without your computer, never forget that!

... x’D not

Totally stoked for a Koushirou episode. I hope it kicks butt. Even if it doesn’t, we still get a good helping of my boy Koushirou. <3

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Not What It’s Cracked Up To Be ch.2 (baon)

Summary: Edge and Stretch are finally getting back on an even keel. Edge’s broken leg is healing well, Spring is finally here and the flowers are close to blooming.

Be a shame if anything disturbed their domestic bliss.

Tags:  Spicyhoney, Kustard, Established Relationships, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Fluff, Chickens

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

Chapter 1  

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Read it on AO3

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Read it here!

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If Stretch had to make a top ten list of people that he expected to find at his front door on any given day, Papyrus would be on it, but Stretch had to guiltily admit, he would have been close to the bottom of the list, just below the mailperson.

It wasn't that Stretch didn't like Papyrus, he really did, but somehow, their paths didn't cross that often. Papyrus did a lot of work up at the Embassy and spent time training with Undyne and the rest of the security team. He had his own group down at the Y like Edge did of younger kids and every year they did a nature hike out in the wilds of Ebott, down the walking path that ran behind the shopping center.

Papyrus had his own gig going on and that was fine, but it did mean they mostly saw each other on movie nights and holidays. Kinda like cousins, maybe, not that Stretch ever had any. Not exactly close family, but family, nonetheless.

Now, finding Papyrus AND Jeff on his porch? Both of them with their arms loaded with plastic food containers and cups from the Beanery that looked to be filled with gloriously caffeinated concoctions? That wasn’t anywhere on Stretch’s top ten list or even in the top fifty. That was one that might’ve wandered onto an alternate list in the AM hours when Stretch couldn’t sleep, but even then, the odds weren’t good.

Papyrus’s grin of maniacal cheer, though, that was to be expected. It was the same one Blue got going when he had a scheme up his pant leg and that made warnings prickles stand up and do the cha-cha-cha on Stretch’s spine.

“hey, guys,” Stretch said slowly, “what’s going on?”

“What is going on is we are here to see you!” Papyrus said cheerily. He shifted the boxes in his arms. “We can continue going by you letting us inside!”

“I mean, you can leave us on the porch if you want,” Jeff’s grin was less maniacal, at least. Honestly, he looked tired and also like he wasn’t about to let that slow him down. “We’ll just stand here, alone, sad and pining for the fjords, wasting away—”

“yeah, yeah, i get it,” Stretch grinned and held open the door. “come in before the neighbors get interested. they already think we’re better than netflix.”

Papyrus and Jeff trooped inside, and Stretch took a second to peek out the front door. Edge was still working diligently on his flowerbeds, so that was fine. He saw Stretch looking and blew him a kiss and maybe catching it was pretend, but the warmth in his soul from it was plenty real.

Didn’t mean Stretch missed that his loving traitor didn’t come inside, though.

By the time he closed the front door, Jeff and Papyrus had taken over the coffee table. There were several plastic containers alongside the drink cups and okay, yeah, Stretch was curious to see what largess had been brought to them. Hopefully not too much, with his cast off and permission to stand, Edge was probably itching to get back into the kitchen. He’d graciously accept anything the guys brought over, probably, and then he’d be stuck between his urgent need to make food for everyone in sight and his need not to waste any morsel that came into the house. It was a bit of a balancing act and Edge was already wobbly on his feet.

Stretch wandered over to give one of the containers a poke. “i hadn't heard the hospital cut you loose yet, Paps.

“Just yesterday!” Papyrus beamed and now Stretch could see he had a cane of his own, exactly the same as Edge’s but he was currently using it more as punctuation than for support.

Released yesterday and Stretch hadn’t even known. He could have, should have. He’d just seen Sans a couple days go and he’d asked about Red, but not his brother who was still in the fucking hospital. And what, he could send tweets out to his fans but not a text to Papyrus to see how he was feeling? Stretch swallowed hard against the rising thickness in the back of his throat. “listen, i'm sorry i didn't get up to see you at the hospital much.”

Papyrus being Papyrus, only waved that off. “Not at all! Everyone is very busy right now.”

“Yeah,” Jeff put in and there was a wealth of meaning in that single word that probably synced up to the shadows under his eyes. “I barely got up there to see you and Edge, too.”

“Besides,” Papyrus went on, “You had your own patient to handle in what I am sure was an experience that left you stronger!”

“heh, that’s one way of putting it. how’s the noggin?” The bandages that were wrapped around Papyrus’s head in the hospital were gone and all the bruising faded. The dark line of a hairline crack was still running along his parietal bone. At this point it was probably here to stay, healing magic wasn’t much good on scars, otherwise Stretch would have gotten to work on Edge’s a long time ago.

Papyrus mimed rapping on his skull with his knuckles. “Better. I am still on sick leave even though I am injured, not sick. But I am not falling down as much now so they let me go home!”

The phrase falling down had implications that made Stretch shudder, even though he knew that wasn’t what Papyrus meant. Especially after today, seeing Edge’s healing leg, all his new scars, hairline fractures, all of them, but they were still there.

Okay, yeah, a subject change seemed to be a good idea.

Stretch picked up one of the containers and gave it a little shake. “so what brings you over to see me. not that i don’t want to see you guys, but…” He gestured at the rest of the containers. “i’m seeing a plan here.”

“Yes!” Papyrus said happily. “I brought something for your chickens!"

Huh. Today was definitely going off the charts, because that option wasn’t on any of Stretch’s top ten lists. “seriously?"

Papyrus obviously had his own standards when it came to lists, because he nodded as if it were obvious. “Yes! You see, usually when you are sick or injured in the hospital because of germs or stupidity—"

“hey!”

“--i have cared for your chickens for you! this time i was in the hospital and so i brought them spaghetti!”

Impeccable logic, really. Except for one small detail.

Paps was a much better cook these days but pasta still tended to elude him. Even the mention of spaghetti still gave Stretch shuddering flashbacks of those first few weeks when they came to this universe. It’d almost been enough for him to wish they were back in Underswap.

Almost.

All the other dishes Papyrus made were more than palatable, even delicious, except for when he dug out the noodles. Much as he didn’t want to hurt any feelings, neither did Stretch want to murder his chickens by poison pasta. “um that's really nice, but, uh.”

Whatever Papyrus thought he was going to say, if there were any hurt feelings about it, he shed it like water off a duck’s back, “Have no fear! It is vegetable spaghetti!"

“Spiral cut veggies, “Jeff put in. He pried off one of the lids and held it out, revealing bright orange and purple strands. His grin was a little wry; Jeff was another victim of Papyrus’s attempts at carbonara. “We made it fresh this morning.”

Oh. They’d made it, together. For the teeniest, tiniest moment there was a twinge of stupid jealousy, bitter sharp in his soul, because Jeff was supposed to be his best friend and here was Papyrus poaching on his territory when he already had lots of friends, in a couple different countries even, pen pals and people at the Embassy, why did he need one of Stretch’s?

Then he squashed that thought like the stink bug it was; there was plenty of Andy to go around and he wasn’t about to end his week by being a dick to his best friends over veggie noodles.

So hey, time to unwrap the enthusiasm and get this chicken party started. Stretch pasted his smile back on and said, “well hey, let’s go out back! i bet they’ll be scrambling for it.”

Papyrus didn’t even groan at the pun, though Jeff booed under his breath. His smile brought new meaning to the word beaming, it really did, bright as the sun. “Let me get some plates!”

He caned his way into the kitchen before Stretch could even offer to do it for him and yeah, there was one of the ways he and Edge were alike, stubborn little shits that they were.

Stretch shook his head and turned back to Jeff to ask, softly, “how is he doing, really?”

“He’s been fine today, but he should probably sit down for a while,” Jeff said in the same quiet tone. “I had him sitting at home when we were using the spiral slicer and he was pretty good about it. Don’t let him fool you, though, the doctors told him to take it easy—”

“—and he’s not really good at following their instructions,” Stretch finished with a sigh. “yeah, i’ve had some practice with that.”

“I’ll bet,” Jeff laughed just as Papyrus returned, plates in hand. Stretch kept back any comments about what Edge might have to say about them using his plates to feed chickens. Hey, they were family, they could use the good tableware.

“I’ll bet, too,” Papyrus said, “if you two are finished talking about me behind my back! Unless you want to do it in front of my face as well.”

Yeah, there were definitely times Stretch could tell Papyrus and Edge were cut from the same cloth. Although if he ever saw Edge smiling like Papyrus did, Stretch would be checking for any other signs of the apocalypse. “nah, i think we’re good. let’s head out.”

“Oh, and we brought you—” Jeff plucked one of the plastic cups from the table and held it out with a flourish. “triple venti, iced caramel macchiato with whip and an extra shot.”

Now that was a drink and Stretch took the cup, clutching it to his chest without even caring for the condensation dampening the front of his sweatshirt.

“you are the second-best person in the world,” Stretch told him sincerely, “if i wasn’t already married to the first best, i’d be polishing up my flirting skills for you.”

Jeff only rolled his eyes, “Yeah, okay, I’ll add you to my dance card, Mr. Darcy.”

“The dating manual has a chapter on polygamous relationships if you’d like to borrow it!” Papyrus said brightly.

Immediately, Jeff’s pale cheeks flamed a bright red and Stretch felt a blush of his own warm his face. Uh, yeah, no, his love for Andy stayed above the waist, thanks. Now he was glad Edge hadn’t come inside, he’d either be annoyed or silently laughing his ass off. Either way, Stretch could live without it.

He clapped a hand on Papyrus’s shoulder, “you know what, paps, i think we’re good, but i’ll keep it in mind. c’mon, it’s a nice day and the ladies await!”

“Of course!” Papyrus followed Stretch to the back door while Jeff gathered up the containers. “Did Edge redecorate the kitchen? I seem to recall a lot less red paint splattered on the walls and also a table the last time I was here…”

~~*~~

A few days ago, Stretch spent a couple hours cleaning off all the chairs on the patio from any winter gunk left on them. He’d done it for Edge so he could come outside while he was still off limits on any marathons, just a quick scrub down and some sunshine and they were good.

Now he wondered why he bothered because so far, every time anyone came out to the backyard, they ended up sitting on the damned ground. At least they grabbed the cushions off the chairs to keep the damp away. The chickens were gabbling eagerly from the moment the sliding glass door opened and the volume doubled when they realized it was more than the usual amount of suckers to demand scritches from.

Stretch let loose the chicks and Papyrus laid down the plates, already scolding, “Now hold on a moment, there’s more than one flavor! You’ll need a serving of each for the full decadent experience!”

Soon enough the grub was out and they were all sitting on their cushions, watching the chickens feast.

“gotta say, this was a pretty good idea,” Stretch admitted. Pretty good was understating it, the chickens loved the veggie spaghetti and they were gobbling it down, switching plates at will as they scarfed it as fast as they could. Noodle let out an indignant squawk when Nugget stole a tasty looking tidbit from under her beak and ended up on the other end of a strand with Dumpling in an impromptu Lady and the Tramp recreation that ended a lot less romantically when Nugget stole a bite right through the center.

“Of course it was!” Papyrus said loftily. Then he surprised Stretch by adding, “JeffAndy suggested it.”

Stretch raised a brow bone and Jeff shrugged, awkwardly, “Julia used to make veggie spaghetti all the time and Blue had a spiral cutter, so.”

“i haven’t seen blue for a few days.” Stretch fumbled into his hoodie pocket for his lighter, the metal smooth and cool under his fingertips. “how’s he doing?”

“Good. Busy, like all of us,” Jeff said. He took a drink from his cup and it left a slight whipped cream mustache on his upper lip that he licked away. “Think everyone will be glad when Edge is back full time.”

“yeah.” The lighter flicking through his fingers wasn’t enough suddenly and Stretch pulled out a pack of cigarettes to go with it at the same time he nudged Papyrus with an elbow. “and how’s your bro doing?”

“Very well!” Papyrus plucked up a far-flung piece of spaghetti and tossed it back towards the chickens. Dumpling all but snapped it out of the air. “He’s packing as we speak!”

“packing?” That was about the last thing Stretch expected to ever hear about Sans. He and Papyrus were the only brother pair still living together and Stretch would have put good odds on the that only changing if Papyrus moved out, and even then, Sans might try to crawl into one of the suitcases. Sans packing up was serious levels of gossip that he was missing out on.

Papyrus nodded. “Yes! Now that he and Red are betrothed, he is moving in! He didn’t want to leave at first, but I told him I would have someone stay with me until I am fully recovered!”

Betrothed was a weird way to describe that relationship and Sans actually moving in? Made Stretch wonder what’d happened that day when Sans carried Red out of the kitchen, not that he’d wanted to be a fly on the wall or anything. Maybe Red liked to play the spy guy, but Stretch had enough nightmares as it was. If he ever had to hear Red in throes of orgasm, he’d scrub the inside of his skull with a toilet brush.

“not undyne.” He couldn’t imagine her staying away from Alphys, especially not while she had a bun cooking in the oven.

“No, no, your brother!”

Stretch was in the middle of lighting his cigarette and sucked in too hard, coughing the smoke back out. His brother was staying with Papyrus? When did that happen? He was starting to feel more and more like Dorothy when she first stepped off the tornado.

“okay, hang on,” Stretch rubbed a knuckle between his sockets where an ache was starting to form. “can i get a timeline on this?”

“Of course!” Papyrus ticked off on his fingers. “First, Red gave Sans a betrothal collar.”

That choker he’d been wearing, with the heart-shaped buckle. Not at all the sort of thing he’d expected to be Sans’s taste, it’d been cute when Sans was more, ‘wear whatever fell on me today’. “is that what that was?”

“Oh, yes, Red told me that collars hold great significance in Underfell!”

“did he now?” Stretch said softly. Nope, that didn’t sting, not one little bit. His soul wasn’t at all lurching in his chest, rising up to settle painfully under his clavicles.

“Very much so! A betrothal collar is a promise and a warning.” Papyrus leaned in, his voice lowered conspiratorially to a level just below a shout. “More people probably need warnings about Sans.”

“you’re probably right.” Honestly, he should probably be wearing a sign.

“So he got his collar and told me. Then I told him he needed to move in with his fiancée and he said, ‘whoa, bro, don’t know about that you’re still pretty banged up and all.’”

Stretch couldn’t help grinning. He had to admit, that impression of Sans was pretty bang on.

“and I told him I would find someone else to stay with me and I asked your brother and he agreed!” Papyrus finished triumphantly.

He glanced at Jeff, who’d moved his cushion to be downwind of the cigarette smoke. “what about andy, thought you and blue were playing roommates.”

“I’m moving in with Antwan,” Jeff admitted shyly. He toyed with the laces on his shoes. “I mean, for now anyway.”

Normally, Stretch would have been squealing to hear that because hello, about fucking time. But from the sounds of it, if he wasn’t the last to know about all this, he was pretty damn close. “this all happened in the past couple days?”

Papyrus glanced at him. “If we are measuring by linear time, then yes.”

“always did prefer linear. helps to keep things straight. hey, congrats, andy,” Stretch said belatedly. Really belated, seemed like if this news was days old.

“Don’t congratulate me yet, Antwan hasn’t had to move my comic book collection,” Jeff laughed. But from his pink, pleased face he was pretty excited and why shouldn’t he be, he was moving in with his guy, Blue was moving in with Papyrus, Sans moving in with Red. All kinds of stuff going on that no one gave Stretch a call or text about it. Not that he blamed them, not really. He wasn’t being much of a good big brother lately or cousin or friend or whatever else the fuck he pretended he could do. Made him wonder how he was doing as a husband, since he was so shit at everything else.

The chickens were done mangling every speck of the spaghetti and Nugget wandered over to peck at the string on Stretch’s hoodie hopefully. It hadn’t turned into food for her the other hundred times she’d tried it, but that never stopped her before, especially since now it looked like her last treat. Stretch crushed out his cigarette and gave her a hopeful nudge, and she settled into his lap amicably, clucking happily as he smoothed a hand down her feathers.

Noodle was taking refuge in Papyrus’s lap, crooning for her own pets that Papyrus obediently provided. “Your chickens are very nice.”

“We’re lucky Edge isn’t here,” Jeff chuckled even as he coaxed Dumpling over for scritches of her own. “They think he’s the next coming of Chicken Jesus.”

Papyrus frowned. “I wouldn’t think that chickens followed Christian theology.”

It was always hard to tell when Papyrus was sincere or when he was fucking with you, and Stretch had a feeling he was being bent over today. “nah, these ladies are nondenominational.”

“If one must have a harem, one of chickens seems a good choice!” Papyrus said thoughtfully. “There are the eggs to consider.”

“a harem, why would---never mind.” Stretch decided he really didn’t want to know which way Papyrus’s brain was twisting today, he had enough of that with his own.

“By the way,” Jeff said as he struggled to keep Dumpling from attacking his shoelaces, “now that Edge is feeling better, I should probably tell you that your brother’s freezer is filled with bags of grapes.”

“grap..oh.” The grapes from Edge’s garden that he’d been picking when…well. When everything. He’d honestly forgotten all about them, that whole day was pretty much a suckhole of shit that he didn’t care to ever repeat. Even thinking that made Stretch feel a little queasy, knocking him even more off balance while he was trying to catch his equilibrium. Stretch let out a little laugh and if it sounded a little shrill, neither Jeff nor Papyrus noticed. “you froze them, really? when did you even have the time?”

Jeff shrugged, which meant it was probably after work, maybe even at the end of that long, horrible day, and he’d been exhausted and done it anyway. He really was a good friend, better than Stretch deserved.

“i’ll let him know.” Stretch rubbed Nugget gently under the chin and she cooed happily. “and hey, thanks for stopping by with the spaghetti for my girls and letting me knows what’s up with the nearby world.”

“Wish I could say it was my idea,” Jeff said. His smile was a little lopsided. “I’ve missed hanging out. With everything that’s going on, Papyrus thought maybe you were feeling a little out of the loop. He said not being at work makes him think it’s Sunday when it’s Wednesday.”

“yeah, he’s got a good point.”

“I usually do,” Papyrus said modestly.

The sliding glass door opened then, and Edge stepped out. Immediately the chickens abandoned all laps and ran to him, and usually Stretch thought that was cute as fuck, but today, it was an extra scoop of abandonment on top of his cone of salty guilt.

Edge crouched and gave each of them a quick pat, “Hello, everyone. I only wanted to check if you two are staying for dinner.”

“No,” Papyrus said, somehow managing to look sad and elated at the same time. “Blue is planning a welcome to my home dinner for me tonight!”

“I can’t either, Antwan and I haven’t done anything but sleep in the same bed for the past week. We’re planning take out and time together.” Jeff scrambled to his feet with a groan, stretching, “We need to get going, anyway.”

Edge nodded, like none of this was news to him. Maybe it wasn’t, Stretch really was the last to know everything. Even about betrothal collars and Stretch twisted the ring on his finger, feeling the delicate swirls etched into it with the tips of his fingers. The metal wasn’t cool like his lighter, warmed by his own bones.

It only took a couple of minutes for Jeff and Papyrus to gather up the empty containers, and Stretch got the plates, setting them next to him on the ground.

“see you guys later!” Stretch called as they went through the gate. He got waves in return and then they were gone.

Edge sat down on the cushion next to him, stretching out his leg brace in front of him as he nudged it closer than Papyrus had. Close enough for him to settle his own hand over Stretch’s and he couldn’t help wondering if that was to keep him from reaching for his cigarettes again. He was supposed to be quitting and that’d fallen to the wayside at some point, supposed to be seeing Alphys about his HP, when was the last time he’d done that? So many fucking questions today and Stretch wasn’t sure about some of the answers.

“Just you and me tonight then, love,” Edge said. His thumb grazed lightly across Stretch’s knuckles and he noted absently that he’d changed his gloves. These ones were worn soft, comfort gloves, like some of Stretch’s sweatshirts, and he didn’t know why Edge needed comforting.

“yeah, just you and me,” Stretch agreed softly, and when had that become less of a delight.

He really was losing his touch because Edge gave him a narrow look almost immediately. “What’s wrong?”

“nothing,” Stretch said, and he forced lightness into the word, “think i’m just a little tired, we had a lot going on today.”

Edge hummed softly in agreement, “Why don’t you take a nap?”

“take one with me?” Stretch offered and he knew from the split-second of hesitation on Edge’s face that he wanted to say no. Which, of course he fucking did, he just got his cast off, he was probably wanting a shower or maybe even a bath, give those newly scarred bones a good scrub before he went to do all the other shit he couldn’t do last week. “you know what, never mind.”

“Are you sure?” Edge asked, because of course he did. He always put Stretch’s happiness first. Like it was something Stretch actually deserved and that was a shitty thing to think and Stretch knew it, so he was stopping that right now.

“yep,” Stretch forced a yawn. “if it’s just me i can sprawl out.”

“Me being in the bed has never stopped you before,” Edge said dryly. But he lifted Stretch’s hand and kissed his knuckles, right over his wedding ring, the one Edge gave him when he promised to love and cherish him, and Stretch was gonna knock it the fuck off thinking about anything with collars or Underfell. Edge loved him and he knew it, he didn’t need anything else.

Not a damn thing.

~~*~~

Read Chapter Three

[vmheadquarters]

We’re still playing our game of written hot potato! Dozens of your favorite authors are taking turns to tell a Veronica Mars mystery story. Each writer crafts their chapter and then “tosses” the story to the next person to continue the tale. No one knows what will happen, so expect the unexpected!

Follow the “vmhq presents” and “murder we wrote” tags for all the installments, or read the story as it develops on AO3. --Chapter Eighteen of MURDER, WE WROTE is written by @happilyshanghaied And stayed tuned next week for Ch.19 from @elliebear75​ -tag, you’re it!

—————————————————————————————————— CHAPTER EIGHTEEN by @happilyshanghaied​ 

Veronica hobbled over to the desk Mac was set up at and peered over her friend’s shoulder at the computer screen. “What am I looking at? I don’t see anything?”

“There.” Mac’s finger hovered over the bottom of the frame. A broadcast of the back door security camera rolled, time stamped 02:37AM. The picture remained static for a few seconds, but then the door flew open and Mac, bundled in a winter coat with her collar up, rushed out of the door, dropping it shut behind her. “This is right after I saw Leo’s body being taken.” With one swift keystroke she froze the playback.

“Taken? I thought you said you noticed he was missing?” Veronica turned to look at Mac so quickly she almost threw herself off balance.

“I—yeah. I mean, I couldn’t tell who it was, there was just a large shadow dragging another large shadow across the ice.”

“You actually saw somebody dragging him off? Why didn’t you say something earlier?” She demanded, unable to stop the sharpness from leaching into her tone.

“Oh I don’t know, perhaps it was the bludgeoning I received?” Mac sighed and pointed to the gash on her forehead. “I haven’t exactly been quick on the draw, Veronica.”

“Yeah, no shit. You told me earlier that you got attacked by an adult-toddler Lilly Kane. Must’ve been one helluva knock to the old noggin.” Veronica knew her anxiety was making her short with Mac and the guilt niggled at her. She waved a hand in the air between them as if fanning the tense exchange away like an unpleasant smell. “I’m sorry. Seriously. I think the...well, everything is starting to get to me.”

“Right there with you,” Logan piped in, a gentle brush of a hand across the small of her back reminding her that she didn’t have to shoulder this stress alone.

Veronica pressed back into his open palm and grounded herself, then turned her attention to Wallace. “Okay, so you both saw a large shadow dragging another large shadow across the ice, and that’s when you decided to follow them?”

“No, that’s when Mac decided to follow them, but I couldn’t just watch her get herself Purged by that big guy and do nothing.” Wallace pressed a hand over his heart. “My mom raised a gentleman.”

Veronica grinned at him. “And you call me a marshmallow.”

“I’m gangsta.” Wallace pointed the end of a half eaten licorice stick at Veronica. “Gangsta.”

“Okay, Tupac.” Her smile grew bigger.

Logan pursed his lips in thought. “If you ran after her, how come you ended up in two totally different places?”

“Do I look like Robinson Crusoe to you?” Wallace pulled two more licorice twists from his bag of Red Vines and wordlessly handed one to Veronica. “This island is big AF, and you can barely see two feet in front of you out there. Leo has to weigh about 170, and with the amount of drag a corpse that size would produce across an uneven snow bank, it’s not short work for anybody, regardless of their size. I just assumed the body snatcher pulled him across the ice, so I headed toward the docks.”

“But not you.” Veronica’s attention returned to Mac and she gestured to the video.

“Just watch.” Mac started the video again, and roughly 90 seconds into it, the back door opened again, and a person—undeniably, a man—rushed quickly through the frame.

“Can you go back and freeze on him?” Veronica’s heartbeat started to rabbit in her chest. This was the closest thing to an actual lead they’d gotten so far, but she knew a positive ID in the dark was probably going to be a stretch.

“I could, but it would be pointless.” Mac slowly scrolled the recording back and paused on the male figure; his face was downturned and angled away from the camera. “I’ve gone over it ten times. It’s almost like he knew where the cameras were.”

“Maybe he did.” Logan hooked his chin over Veronica’s shoulder and leaned in closer to get a better look. “My dad always had a knack for avoiding the security cameras at Casa Echolls whenever he went on one of his little amourettes in the middle of the night. The way he purposely turned his head as he walked directly toward the camera, that guy moves like somebody who knows their way around.”

“I didn’t notice any staff other than Jen and myself,” Mac reported. “A catering team was supposed to show up, but they got waylaid by the storm.”

Veronica’s fingers worried the strap on her bag as she tried to make sense of all the new information. “Okay, so besides the two of you and the missing boat captain, there was nobody else outside?”

“Not unless Mistress X is lurking around here somewhere.” Mac mimed looking over her shoulder.

“Right. We have just two suspects then—two men—based on their size and shape, and one of them may or may not be the boat captain. One guy was already outside, probably hunkering down in a nearby location until we all went to bed,” Veronica surmised, her stomach giving way to an uneasy feeling as a realization took hold. “And that means—it means the other man—”

“Was already inside the house. With us.” Logan exhaled a warm exhale against the side of her neck and a shiver ran through her.

“Well, fuck.” Mac picked up a nearby bag of ice and pressed it to her head with a wince. “If I didn’t already have a raging migraine…”

Veronica trusted Mac with her life, and she knew there was nothing her friend was holding back, so this left one other person who had possible insider knowledge of the murder and the players behind it. “What do you know about Jen, Mac?”

Mac shrugged, groaning as the ice shifted in the bag. “I know her social security, her grades, her blood type, credit card debt, past employment history, every address she’s lived at over the last ten years…”

Veronica huffed out a bemused laugh. “Anything you couldn’t have lifted off LexisNexis?”

Mac‘s brow furrowed in concentration. “She‘s... kind of a cat person?”

“You’ve lived with her for six months, and the only thing you’ve learned about her is that she’s kind of a cat person?”

“You know I don’t do—” She made a hand gesture that Veronica absolutely didn’t not recognize. “Not like those plebs out there. Jen seems nice, got me a security job working a few of these live-action Clue gigs, but we’re not, like, having pillow fights or scrapbooking together on weekends.”

Logan started at Mac, blankly. “Is that what you think normal women do together?”

“I hang out with her,” Mac said, pointing at Veronica. “Of course, I don’t know what normal women do together.”

Logan’s mouth fell open, but Veronica elbowed him lightly in the ribs before he could say something snarky.

“Okay.” Veronica reached out and touched Mac’s shoulder. “Is it possible that the blonde who hit you, the one you thought was adult-toddler Lilly Kane—”

“You are never going to let me live that down, huh?” Mac’s lips curled into a sardonic smile.

“I am not.” Veronica's grin echoed Mac’s, and she only just managed to hold back her laughter. “Is it possible that adult-toddler Lilly Kane could have actually been Jen? I mean, they’re both blonde...but only one of them has an adult shape.” She mimed heavy bosoms, then looked sadly down at her own meager chest.

Mac sighed loudly and nodded. “It’s possible, yes. I mean, I only caught a glimpse of her and had just gotten my head bashed in.”

“Great.” Veronica clapped her hands together once, punctuating the exchange. “I need you to go find Jen and do a ‘me’ with her. Can you handle that?”

“I assume that means charming her, or conning her into spilling all her secrets?” Mac looked visibly uncomfortable. “I’m not sure my brand of delightfully awkward is going to yield much success.”

“Hmm, if only I knew somebody extremely charismatic who could help you?”  Veronica’s eyes slid toward Wallace, who had just finished swallowing his last bite of licorice.

***

Once Mac and Wallace were gone, Logan slid into Mac’s vacant chair with the grace of a cat, pulling Veronica onto his lap in one swift move. She pressed her face into the side of his neck and allowed herself a moment to get lost in his scent.

So much had happened, yet she’d barely had a moment to think about how this would work, what their old, new relationship would look like. Was he really going to transfer to be closer to her? How would he fit into her life at Stanford? And did it matter? They’d both given getting over each other the old college try. It hadn’t worked in high school, nor at Hearst, and she was woman enough to admit that this thing between them might just always be a part of her. Even when Logan wasn’t in her life, he was always present in her mind, teasing at the edges of her awareness like a phantom limb.

He snaked a hand up the back of her shirt and rested it between her shoulder blades, anchoring her to his chest. “How are you holding up?”

“Physically or mentally?” she asked, leaning over to press a kiss just behind his ear. “Not that the answer isn’t the same for both.”

His hand moved gently up and down her spine. “Dealer’s choice.”

She pulled back a little bit to look him in the eyes. “I feel like a shit magnet.”

His lips quirked, the way they always did when he found something she said amusing. “You are a shit magnet, as am I. I don’t know if it’s us or this town, but I’m beginning to think we should probably spend all our time together. Maybe only half of the Very Bad Things would happen to us if we were always in the same place?”

“That’s an interesting proposition.” She fingered the soft hair at the nape of his neck and wet her lips. “How would that work exactly? Would you sneak into my dorm room at night?” She inched her face closer to his. “Or would I go to you?”

His eyes dropped to her lips. “We could change to online schooling, telecommute from our bedroom.”

Her hand slid up his neck to cup the side of his face. “I don’t know, I feel like we might not get much work done with that arrangement, and I’d like to graduate one day.”

Logan broke into a laugh and closed the distance between them, kissing her deeply before dragging his lips down the side of her neck. She gasped as he reached a sensitive spot and threaded her fingers through his hair, tugging with a breathy sigh as he repeated the move.

He hummed against her skin. “God, the noises you make...if we weren’t living through an actual horror film right now…”

Deflated by the reminder, Veronica protectively cradled his head against her collarbone. “Somebody under this roof is a killer.”

He nodded, a silent response.

She thought of all the other men staying at the house: Luke, Dick, Casey, Cole, Norris and Duncan. They all had skeletons, to be sure, there was hardly anybody from Neptune who didn’t—herself included—and they all had the financial means to pull something like this off, but something wasn’t sitting with her right.

The level of focus on her was quite a coincidence.

And coincidences were nothing but the contrived intersection of planning, opportunity, and luck.

“Logan,” she started, unsure how to bring this up. “Those character sheets we got were freakishly accurate, no?”

His head pricked up at the question. “Too accurate.”

“I mean, I suppose if somebody wanted to, they could’ve figured out a lot of those details or hired somebody like Leo to dig around, but why would they?”

Logan’s eyes brightened as he immediately picked up her line of thought. “Cole never cared much about us and he still doesn’t, so I doubt it’s him. You actually helped Luke get out of a jam, even if it wasn’t in the way he wanted. I can’t see why he’d suddenly want to torment you several years later.”

“Dick is a dick,” she added, “but I know he’d never do anything to harm you, and by extension, me, so I feel like we can rule him out.”

“What’s the connection with Casey? You guys seemed awfully chummy for a bit during junior year,” he said, coyly.

“Oh, you noticed?”

“I always noticed.” He shot her a meaningful look.

She found a loose thread on Logan's shirt and toyed with the end of it. “I think he might’ve had a little thing for me in high school after I did that job at the Mooncalf Collective.”

Logan exhaled roughly in mock exasperation. “Casey, Norris, Leo, Duncan...I’m starting to feel a bit like one of your choir boys.”

“No.” She planted a kiss on his warm brow. “You’re leading man material.”

“Is that so?” That seemed to placate Logan, who dropped right back into sleuthing mode. “So, what do we think of Norris?”

“He’s a cop,” she said, as if this were reason enough to exonerate him.

Apparently, Logan didn’t think so by the way he balked. “So was Vinnie Van Lowe. And Don Lamb.”

“So was my dad,” she retorted.

“So was Leo...who sold me sex tapes of my dad and a minor.” His expression was incredulous.

“Okay.” Veronica held her palms up, acquiescing. She was now more convinced than ever that her dad might be the only honest man left in town. “Being a cop in Neptune, or...well, anywhere, I guess, doesn’t mean you can’t be dirty, but I don’t think Norris is a bad guy. He stood up for me when I was being bullied.” Logan looked away, cowed by the reminder of his past, but she turned his chin back toward her. “He’s just a sweet guy with some niche Japanese interests.”

“Throwing stars and katanas,” he reminded her.

“Did Leo look like he was murdered with a katana? Did Madison?”

“Okay. Fine. I trust your instincts,” Logan said, and a shadow crossed his features as he avoided her gaze. “But that leaves just one person, then.”

Veronica nodded, realizing where this was going and feeling just as skittish about it as he looked. “I know we’ve both kind of been avoiding speaking to him, but he hasn’t even said why he’s back. Or how. Surely, he didn’t risk jail time just to play Mr. Boddy at a shitty high school reunion party.”

Logan nervously shifted under her. “You didn’t ask him why he was here?”

“You’ve been with me the whole time. I know my communication skills aren’t great, but I feel like that’s something I would’ve mentioned to you.”

Logan looked as though he wanted to ask something but paused, the unspoken question hanging precariously in the air like a bubble moments away from rupture.

“Say it.” Her voice was calm and measured, but her insides were rolling with fear.

“Do you think Duncan could be a murderer?”

“Do you?” she shot back, unsure why she felt so defensive and angry about the idea.

Duncan was in her rearview mirror, and she was happy about it. The complicated feelings she had about him veered from affection to anger, but through it all, she couldn’t help but feel loyalty. It somehow felt like she was betraying Lilly for even thinking this might be true.

And what did this say about her abilities as a PI? Aaron, Beaver, Woody, Mercer—all malevolent people capable of unspeakable crimes, and she didn’t pick up on any of them until it was too late.

Logan shrugged, helplessly. “Before the two of you broke up the first time, I would’ve said there was no way...but the way he attacked Jake that one night after you split, how angry he was about not being with you? He was never the same after Lilly’s murder. He was like a brother to me, but I don’t know.” He shook his head, distraught at the suggestion. “I don’t know, Veronica.”

“Well,” she took a deep breath and pressed her lips against Logan’s for fortitude. “I think it’s time we found out, don’t you?”

***

When you were here before, couldn’t look you in the eye. You’re just like an angel, your skin makes me cry...

The faint strains of “Creep”, by Radiohead, eerily carried down the hallway, no doubt the ironic song choice one of Dick’s brilliant ideas.

Logan’s arm was wrapped around Veronica’s waist, carefully supporting half her weight as she limped toward the main room. She caught a glimpse of Wallace out of the corner of her eye, speaking with Jen by the wrought iron-framed picture window at the back. His hip was cocked as he leaned in and said something that made her chuckle, the friendly scene a stark contrast against the frigid and desolate landscape looming behind them.

Veronica wondered how easy it would be to hide amidst the snowbanks. With everything so white, any shock of color would likely stand out, even through the overwhelming snow. As big as this mansion was, from a distance, it was also just a shock of color—a garish slash of humanity bisecting the wilderness—incongruous and wrong.

Something was incongruous and wrong inside the mansion, too, but Veronica was too close to it all to get a good view.

Her eyes canvassed the room, skipping over the people who had tormented her in high school as she searched for Duncan. Even without the murder, this party would have been a nightmare.

Duncan was sitting by himself on a loveseat, gazing serenely at the view while nursing a hot drink.

What the hell am I doing here? I don’t belong here…

Veronica’s arm tightened around Logan’s back, and she angled her chin to speak with him privately. “He’s there, on the loveseat.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed in Duncan’s direction as he pulled her into a hug and lowered his lips to the shell of her ear. “How are we doing this?”

She didn’t answer right away, knowing he wasn’t going to like her suggestion, but her silence spoke volumes.

“No way.” His chest rose and fell, and his arms tensed around her. “It’s not that I don’t think you can handle this, but you’re injured.”

“I’m just going to talk to him, no sneaky spy business.” She knew the promise sounded as hollow as it was.

“What if he’s a killer, Veronica? What then?”

She pulled back and looked him in the eyes, whispering, “You know he’s more likely to talk if it’s just me asking questions, and you’re right here. If something crazy happens, you’ll just spring into action hero mode like you always do and save the day.”

“I don’t like it,” he said, weakly, with a frown, but she could tell he knew her well enough to understand that arguing against this was futile.

“I know you don’t.” She brushed an index finger across his downturned lips. “I promise I won’t do anything intentionally stupid. And hey, this is Duncan. Do we really think he’s some kind of villainous mastermind? He couldn’t even remember all his lines for the middle-school play.”

His eyes softened as he brushed a stray hair away from her face, letting his fingers linger on her jawline. “You know, it’s really inconvenient for me to love and hate exactly the same things about you.”

“I know.” She turned and kissed the side of his hand before gingerly taking a few steps back. “But, you love them just a little bit more.”

Before she could lose her nerve, she turned and limped over to where Duncan was seated. “Buy a girl a drink?”

“Veronica!” Duncan lit up at her presence, and he scooted over to make room for her. “I heard you’d injured your ankle. I hope it doesn’t hurt much.”

“You know, they say it’s exactly the same walking on sand and snow, but they would be wrong. There are no stray branches hiding on the beach.” She lowered herself slowly onto the seat, sighing as the weight eased off her ankle. “What are you doing over here alone?”

He sighed and peered into his half empty mug of hot chocolate. “This is a really weird weekend. It’s definitely not what I was expecting when I got on the plane to come home.”

Amazed she didn’t even have to work around to it, Veronica took the bait. “What were you expecting when you got on the plane?”

His expression was pensive for a moment, before he shook his head. “I don’t know. I mean, I’m aware a lot of time has passed, but I wanted to see you.”

“Oh?” She wasn’t sure she liked where this was headed.

“You risked everything to help me, and then I just—” His hands tightened around the mug. “I just left. I barely got to say a proper goodbye, didn’t even get to thank you.”

Veronica knew it was ridiculous to get sucked in by this act when so many signs pointed toward him possibly being a killer, but his stupid blue eyes looked so earnest and sad, and it was hard not to believe him. She’d always had too much of a soft spot for him.

“I knew.” She leaned over and squeezed Duncan’s hand. “I’m just happy we were able to get little Lilly away from Meg’s horrible parents.”

“Yeah.” He nodded and squeezed her hand back. “She’s doing really well.”

“I’m so glad. Speaking of,” she inched closer to him, “how did you manage to get past immigration with that arrest warrant they put out?”

“Oh.” He appeared genuinely befuddled for a moment, but then smiled brightly. “Mom took care of that.”

“I thought your mom was against you raising Lilly?”

He shrugged his shoulders, looking so much like the uncomplicated teen she once knew. “You know how she is when it comes to me.”

Veronica remembered how Celeste had covered up a murder she thought Duncan was responsible for, how she had sent Veronica’s dad to retrieve him in Cuba when he ran away, and how virulently she had tried to protect Duncan’s inheritance from Veronica’s potential paternity claim.

Was there anything Celeste wouldn’t do for her favorite child?

“I know.” Veronica smiled tightly.

They sat in companionable silence for a minute, still holding hands, watching the soft snow flutter outside the window.

But I’m a creep, I’m a weirdo...

“Veronica...” Duncan turned toward her, a besotted look in his eyes that she knew very well. “Do you—do you love him? Logan?”

She looked down at their joined hands and quickly released Duncan’s, a sinking feeling taking hold of her stomach, then slowly raised her gaze to meet his. “Did you come back home for me?”

“What would you say if I said yes?” he asked, eyes hopeful.

She shook her head, both shocked and not. “I would say that at one time, I loved you very much, but I’m not that girl anymore.”

“Yes, you are,” he spat out, body slightly recoiling with the movement. “How can you be a different person? It hasn’t been much longer than two years. Who changes that much in such a short time?”

She steeled her nerves and turned to face him fully. “I haven’t changed. I don’t think I was ever the girl you thought I was. I’m not even sure you would have liked the real me back then.”

“So, you were—what?” he shot back, face beginning to flare with heat. “Just faking it with me?”

“No.” She grabbed his hand again, which instantly calmed him down. “I didn’t even know myself back then, Duncan. Lilly did, though, she always understood me.”

“Does he know the real you?” Duncan looked at a point over her shoulder, and she turned to find Logan watching the two of them with a stoic expression.

“Yes,” she said, as Logan’s eyes connected with hers. “He’s a little bit broken, just like me.”

Duncan seemed offended by the suggestion. “You’re not broken, Ronnie.”

“Broken isn’t bad, Duncan. Have you ever heard of the Japanese art of kintsugi?” Off his head shake, she continued, “They take broken pieces of expensive, intricate pottery and put them back together again, filling the cracks with gold and silver, making the new pieces stronger, even more interesting and beautiful than they were before.”

“And that’s you? Broken pottery?” he asked, in a mocking tone.

She shook her head. “Repurposed. Better. Stronger. You liked the perfect porcelain.”

“No.” His hand tightened around hers almost painfully, as he leaned closer and whispered hoarsely, “I’m broken, too. Just like you. I came back for you, the real you.”

Veronica was sick with guilt. She hadn’t asked for any of this, but she couldn’t help but feel bad, anyway. The last time he had seen her, she was still in love with him, and that image of her was clearly frozen in amber in his mind. “Duncan, I’m so sorry, but I lov—”

A loud, metallic crash against the other side of the wall was punctuated by a man’s haunting groan.

[waywardnerd67]

Waiting For Superman

Summary: (Y/N)’s life is chaotic as she spirals downward into her boring existence. She keeps waiting for the day that the man of her dreams will come sweep her off her feet and save her from herself. Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel and Reader Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: Fluff Word Count: 2294 A/N #1: While driving with a friend I heard the song “Waiting for Superman” by Daughtry. I immediately thought about Dean being a superhero in the eyes of Reader. A/N #2: As always this is unbeta so all mistakes are mine. Likes, comments and reblogs are splendid and I will love you doubly for them! Enjoy!

She’s watching the taxi driver, he pulls away She’s been locked up inside her apartment a hundred days She says, yeah, he’s still coming, just a little bit late He got stuck at the laundromat washing his cape” She’s just watching the clouds roll by and  they spell her name like Lois Lane And she smiles, oh the way she smiles

“Seriously (Y/N), you need to get out of your apartment. You never come out with us anymore.” (Y/N)’s best friend said over the phone.

She sighed knowing that if she blew her off again that would mean losing one of her only friends left. The thought of going out though filled her body with anxiety and panic. What if she went out and he came knocking on her door? What if she went out and he thought she was over him? What if she went out and enjoyed herself?

“Alright, what time I should I meet you?” she said into the phone as she looked down at the only picture she had of the man who captured her heart and ran away with it.

Six months ago (Y/N) had been out with her friends and the man she had been flirting with all night ended up being a monster. They were making their way out to the parking lot where he pinned her back against a car and flashed his fangs at her. She thought for sure that her life was over until Dean Winchester came swooping in like a superhero.

“Hey buddy, the only person who gets to make out with beautiful woman on my car is me. Let her go and I’ll make this as quick as possible.” Dean said waving his machete towards him.

The guy pushed her to the ground roughly where she hit her head hard. The next thing she knew (Y/N) woke up in the backseat of the car she had been leaning up against. Groaning she sat up rubbing the back of her head as her hero looked back at her through the rearview mirror.

He pulled the car over parking it and looking back at her, “Hey there, how’s the noggin?”

“Throbbing. What the hell happened? Wh-What was that guy?” She asked flashes of his fangs coming to her mind making her body tremble. Getting her first good look at the man who saved her she could not help gawking at how gorgeous he was. Short brown hair that looked soft, strong jawline and the most piercing olive eyes she had ever seen. He bit his bottom lip before speaking.

“Well, he was a vampire and a douchebag. A nice girl like you should stay away from douchebags like that and vampires in general.” He chuckled a small smirk on his full lips.

She stared at him dumbfounded, “V-Vampire?” she stammered as he nodded.

“Yeah vampires are real. A lot of freaky things are real, but don’t worry you’re safe now.” The way he spoke with such ease about it stunned her. “I’m Dean by the way, Dean Winchester.”

He extended his hand towards her and she slipped hers inside of it, “(Y/N) (Y/L/N).” That night changed everything in her life. When she watched Dean Winchester drive off in his classic Chevy Impala a part of her went with him.

(Y/N) put on one of her favorite dresses, put the finishing touches on her make-up and headed out the door for the first time in too long. Pulling into the familiar bar parking lot she could not help but look for his unique car. She shook her head slightly trying to push out the memories of his strong arms around her and soft lips on her neck.

As she walked inside the bar she saw her friends gathered in their normal spot. After saying hello to everyone she fell right back into her life before monsters and Dean Winchester had come into it. She was out of the small dance floor dancing with a couple of friends and a few others she had no idea who they were.

(Y/N) noticed a man sitting at the bar looking at her. Through her alcohol induced fuzzy vision she could make out his dark brown hair, blue stripped tie and tan trench coat. In the back of her mind she knew she should be warier about strange men but something about him put her mind at ease.

“I’m going to get some air.” She shouted at her best friend who nodded at her. She made her way outside the cool night breeze hit her blistering skin.

That is when the hairs on the back of her neck stood up and she could feel that someone was behind her. She whirled around unsteady as the man in the trench coat helped steady her. “You should be more careful, (Y/N).” He said softly.

She’s talking to angels, counting the stars Making a wish on a passing car She’s dancing with strangers, falling apart Waiting for Superman to pick her up In his arms yeah, in his arms yeah Waiting for Superman

“Who are you and how do you know my name?” she asked backing away from him slowly.

He stood perfectly still talking calming, “My name is Castiel and I’m an angel. You know my friend, Dean Winchester.”

The mention of his name sent her already foggy mind in a tailspin. She leaned against the side of the building her knees feeling suddenly weak. Castiel cautiously approached her making sure she knew he was no threat to her.

“Dean asked me to keep an eye on you to make sure you were safe.” He explained answering the question she asked silently in her head.

She could feel her buzz wearing off quickly, “Safe for what?” She asked nervously really not wanting to know the answer.

The angel chuckled slightly, “For anything and everything, but mostly he muttered something about douchebags.”

(Y/N) started giggling that turned into full blown laughter, “Well Castiel, you will have your job cut out for you because douchebags seem to come around me all the time.”

He tilted his head and then smiled gently at her, “You can call me Cas if you like. I will be around if you ever need me then just say a prayer and I will hear it.”

With that he disappeared and all she heard was the wind passing by her with the sounds of wings brushing pass her. She chuckled, “I’m not usually the praying type.”

She’s out on the corner trying to catch a glimpse Nothing’s making sense She’s been chasing an answer A sign lost in the abyss, this Metropolis She says "Yeah, he’s still coming, just a little bit late" He got stuck at the Five and Dime saving the day” She says "If life was a movie, then it wouldn’t end like this" Left without a kiss Still, she smiles, oh the way she smiles, yeah

For the next two years, Castiel would pop in and out of her life. Always making sure she was okay and after a while they would sit catching up on her life. Any time she asked about Dean, the angel would change the subject. (Y/N) was beginning to think that Dean would never come back into her life.

One night as she walked home from the local grocery store she waited on the corner to cross the street. A black car passing by and her heart leaped into her throat. She jogged down the street trying to catch a glimpse of it praying it was Dean but as she came upon it her heart dropped to her stomach. It was just a black sedan pulling up to the movie theater dropping off a group of teenagers.

Even after all the sleepless night dreaming of her hero swooping her up from her ordinary life and never actually coming she still felt that one day he could. She knew he was out saving the world from evil and monsters which was more important than a girl who he had been with for a total of twelve hours. As she sat in her living room watching a romantic comedy she thought back on their night together.

Dean had driven to a motel just outside of the city limits. He helped her out of the backseat and into the room where another man was sitting waiting impatiently. “Where the hell have you been?” he asked.

Dean motioned for (Y/N) to sit down on the bed as he nodded his head towards the door, “(Y/N) excuse my brother and I for a moment to talk. Just rest here and make sure you stay awake. I’m pretty sure you have a concussion.”

She nodded slowly watching the two men walk outside. Her head was pounding more so than any hangover she had ever experienced. Her (Y/E/C) felt heavy like the rest of her body. She glanced around seeing a flannel shirt laying across one of the pillows. She grabbed the large flannel slipping her cold arms into it and laid down on the motel bed.

The next thing she knew she could hear someone yelling her name. “(Y/N)! Come on, open those pretty eyes for me.” She looked up seeing the room spinning around Dean’s head.

He helped her up slowly as her stomach started to churn. “I don’t feel good.” She whispered as he picked her up carrying her to the bathroom.

Upon seeing the toilet she began to vomit everything that was in her stomach. Hot tears cascaded down her face as he held her hair back for her and rubbed her back.

“It’s okay, just let it all out and you’ll start to feel better.” He whispered comfortingly.

Once she felt like she would not throw up anymore he handed her a glass of water along with a toothbrush, “I have an extra that you can use.” He said smiling softly.

“Thank you.” She mumbled as he gave her room to brush her teeth and splash water on her face. She walked out into the room and sat back down on the bed. Her eyes getting heavy again and she tried to lay back down.

Dean caught her picking her up into his arms and standing up, “Oh no you can’t lay down. We need to keep you awake for a few hours to make sure nothing is seriously wrong. Do you think you can do that for me pretty girl?”

She started to giggle like a school girl which caused him to chuckle. “What’s so funny?” he asked.

“I finally meet a decent guy and all it took was a vampire with a side dish of a concussion. It’s just so fitting for the disaster of a life I have.” She explained as she looked up at him.

Her vision was slightly blurry and as it came into focus her breath caught in her throat. Nestled against his chest she could feel the natural magnetic pull between them. She felt as if the first piece of the life she was meant to have was found in the man holding her close.

“I’m really not a decent guy just someone doing a job.” He said the pain in his voice breaking her heart.

She brought her hand up to his cheek the tips of her fingers brushing against his rough skin, “Well I think you are a decent guy and right now that is all that matters. You’re my superhero, Dean Winchester.”

The smile that came across his lips was breathtaking as he looked down at her. The rest of the night they spent talking about everything in their lives. It was like they had known one another all their lives and the connection they had was beyond this world. In the morning, when he dropped her off in front of her apartment building she knew it would be the last time she saw him but hoped he would come back to her one day.

To lift her up and take her anywhere Show her love and climbing through the air Save her now before it’s too late tonight She’s waiting for Superman

(Y/N) walked out of her apartment building looking down as she reached in her purse to grab her headphones. Her head snapped up hearing the one voice she had been praying for over the last two and half years.

“Hi (Y/N).” Dean said nervously as he walked towards her.

She blinked slowly a few times making sure her mind was not playing tricks on her, “Dean?” she whispered as he nodded.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come back sooner. It’s been a crazy couple of years.” He looked as if the weight of the world had been on his shoulders.

She closed the distance between them throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. His strong arms wrapped around her waist lifting her off the ground and his face nestled into the crook of her neck. When he set her back down she ran her hands across the collar of his shirt and jacket.

“What are you doing?” He asked snickering.

She smiled up at him, “I was just seeing where your cape connects to the outfit, Superman.”

His laughter filled her heart, body and soul with complete joy. That same smile that stole her heart on his face again. He lifted an eyebrow at her saying, “I’m more like Batman.”

She giggled as he leaned down pressing his lips to hers. That is when the everything in life felt right. Her world was whole in a single moment and never again would go back to her old life. She was right where she was always meant to be by his side. The Lois Lane to his Superman.

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[ecotone99]

Humor [HM] Fantasy [FN] Cadorna Keep Chapter 2 - A Dnd GameLit

Chapter 2 - Tracy Gets a New Spell

The sky was dark blue and the sun hot and cheerful. White fluffy clouds grazed deeply upon the horizon, looking so much like the snowy mountain caps upon which the giants were reported to dwell. The breeze was light, pleasant, and constant.

The party, though, well contrasted against the happy day around them. The ship’s crew busily avoided them as they worked the lines and wheel, keeping their vessel, Sir Boaty McBoatface, on path and on time.

Seriously? The vague voice of one of the Gamers asked.

A vague and authoritative murmur dismissed the question in the distance. The party refocused on each other and the task at hand.

“There was nothing left of them when we came back to pick them up. Balls!” Bern moaned, looking off a bit into the distance. There better be a hoard of treasure when we get there, he contemplated, dark thoughts stretching out like daggers back to when they got owned.

Carric the bard smiled, though, and strummed his lute.

“It could be bad. It could be horrible! But we’ve done bad and horrible. Remember when we were first level nothings and we saved the world?”

“Yeah!” Yenrab the barbarian piped in. “We saved our world! Ya know, this is gonna be a breeze compared to that. At least it isn’t a god or the king of the fairies or anything like that this time, right?”

Wex coughed, the mask of his god Mask glinting hard in the sunlight of the dark blue sky.

“As far as we know, bro, it’s both,” Wex noted. The group fell silent. About them bustled the boat folk, eager to drop off this party of five onto the monster-infested island keep before them and then be off.”

“Hey!” Yenrab said, rising with his own grin to replace the one that Carric had lost. “I have an idea. Back in the tribe when times were hard and morale was low we’d, well, you know, we’d sing songs.”

“What kind of songs?” Tracy asked with sudden interest. “Back in the Freemeet we’d sing songs too. But not just when we were sad. When we were happy too. And when we were angry. Or hungry. Or, like, when the moon was rising into the sky and it was night and -”

Bern Sandros put a hand to his temples, rubbing them as anger clouded his vision.

“Tracy?!” the man asked.

“Yes Bern?”

“That’s enough about songs, mate. It’s not gonna happen,” the cantankerous assassin grunted, his face dark and distant.

Tracy nodded and took two steps back.

Oh no his mind warned.

“Laaaaaaaaa -” Tracy began.

“Tracy!” Bern shouted.

“Laaaaaaaaa -”

“Don’t you dare -”

“Let’s build a snowman! We can give him lots of arms-”

“Gaaah!” Bern loudly grumped as Tracy sang a merry tune. Wex laughed and Bern gave him an angry look. The cleric, though, simply shrugged. Then he weaved some sort of orangish gold field about himself, divine threads radiating to his fingers from the eye holes of his mask. It flared as it finished and then it finished. Wex put his arms behind his head and relaxed, sighing without sound.

Carric also shrugged and began to play accompaniment to Tracy, whose sorcerer’s robes were at this point swinging and sighing back and forth in rhythm, glimmering and shimmering in chaotic swirls and whorls in the rainbow robes of his craft. Yenrab nodded, an enormous grin occupying his face, and then he moved over and sat down next to the grumpy assassin. Bern gave the man a look over, his face rigid as he wondered what sort of conversation was about to be pushed his way.

“So what’s up, Bern?” the big half-orc asked his friend. “We’ve faced bad odds before and, well, think about how many of those, uhm, experience points that the Gamers use we’ll get a hold of. Maybe we can even level up before the next session! It can’t be that you’re scared, ya know, because I’ve seen you swinging through the air from three stories to try and kill the big baddy. You’ve got what Granny always told me was gumption. She used to drain that from the animals she caught before she ate them.”

“She ate them raw, right? Every time you talk about your grandma it is disgusting,” the human said, the shadow of a smile creeping over him.

“You got that right. Ya know, she said it didn’t taste quite right if it didn’t squeal. But I’m just wondering what is on your mind. We’re friends, hey, we can talk.”

“It’s just that we really got bested by the general back there. And it made me think - when can us little guys be the besters instead of the bestees? Are we just rolling around from mission to mission, adventure to adventure, making ends meet? Are we saving up for a better tomorrow? Mate, I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Yenrab sighed. He was younger than them all and yet, often, he had the clearest head. He maybe wasn’t the wisest adventurer, but perhaps he had the best philosophies on life.

“Bern, you know, all we can do now is rise. And we’ve been rising. That party, Some Other Guys, they were the best around. They thought that nobody was gonna keep them down. Think about that. The best, around. Ya know, I bet they fought till the end, staying proud, staring out to the clouds, when the odds in the game finally defied them. And now that’s us. But we aren’t like that. We aren’t like some strange heroic montage that’ll get murdered the moment the Gamers lose interest. We’re going to get somewhere in life. We’ve got skills. We’ve got plans. We’ve got strategy -”

“You’ve got Tracy,” the sorceress interrupted, her song finished. The air sparkled with magical cantrips about her as she attempted to emphasize the moment.

“Carric too!” the bard added, smirking in that odd way that showed he knew he was caught in some lame after-school special type moment and he was just making the best that he could of it.

Wex began snoring, his holy spell of silence finally at an end. It was a rough and guttural sound that snapped him back to wakefulness.

“You guys done singing,” he asked, his words groggy and slow.

“Yeah,” Tracy smiled. “It was wonderful and you missed all of it.”

“Good,” Wex yawned.

“I’m going to get somewhere for sure guys,” Carric Smith informed them as a catch of spray blasted over them, smooth and cool. A drop of lake water dripped down from a pointed ear. “Remember that orphanage in Torus Strade? I bought the place. And that’s where I’m going to retire.”

“Yeah. Life in a small village doesn’t sound so bad,” Bern Sandros grinned, nodding at the idea. “But really, if I can, I just want to help all of my mates out back home. You know, some of them deserve to be out there on the streets, but not all of them. Maybe I’ll make a guild and get them some good paying and honest work.”

“Honest?” Tracy asked, one eyebrow arched in inquisition.

“Mostly honest then,” he chuckled. “Alright, yeah, we coulda shoulda woulda asked for more my friends but, hey, one day it’ll be us that some new adventurers are whinging on about, right?”

“Absolutely. I can’t wait to be grand poombah, chocka full magic and with acolytes running around doing all of my stuff for me,” Wex daydreamed aloud. “But I’m going to take quests in a new direction. Can you imagine all the things you can do with a, as the Gamers say it, first level party under your command? Welcome adventurers to your first quest, I’ll say. You must travel to the market and obtain the lamb of sustenance using naught but your adventuring skills and the coins in your pocket.”

“Haha that is top kek, mate,” Bern threw to him. The elf beamed back.

“I’d make my adventurers give Yenrab a bath,” Carric smirked.

“I will never ever allow myself to smell as I did in Torus Strade,” the half-orc barbarian stated as he failed to suppress a shudder. “I had to roll around in muck for days even after the damnation bound curse was lifted.”

“Well, mates, we’ve got some time before we get there,” Bern Sandros said, standing up to face them. “I for one can use some zeds. Rest up and pick your spells, right Yenrab?”

“Yeah,” Yenrab agreed. “Sounds like a heck of a plan.”For the rest of the voyage they napped, dreaming pleasant dreams of handing off all of the crap jobs to lower level nobodies, and perhaps not having to hear or deal with the grief of the Gamers any longer. All except Tracy, who dreamed of going bald and shining his head with the wax of the babaturt, its prized excretions found only in the lands of the Freemeet.

***

“‘Ips up and arms out ‘venturemen, we’ll be back dis time in da morrow, ya ken?” one of the sailors, hairy like a bear and missing more than a few teeth, spat at them in a friendly attempt at conversation.

“Ew,” responded Tracy, now a man since his male id had taken over. He wiped the saliva off of his face and tasted it.

“I ain’t kenna da gurl t’ing do,” the sailor continued. His accented Common sounded Frostmountian. If so he was a long way from home.

Dice clattered in the air, unheard by any but the party.

“Ah, it took me a bit to get that,” Carric informed the man, a 17 blazing in his head. “See here, let me explain. Tracy is anointed by his god Coraellon. Not one of the native gods but one of the foreign gods. And this god, well, he can give elves and half-elves his mark. If they have that mark they change genders every now again. And, well, I don’t know if maybe Tracy here is extra-marked or something, but he’s got three of him inside that noggin of his and they just kinda take turns driving.”

“Huh,” answered the sailor, shaking his head in wonder. “‘Da gods and dere miracles.”

“He’s got that right,” Yenrab smirked, stretching out as they piled out of the small craft onto the thin strip of beach at the entrance to the keep.

It certainly was something to see, Cadorna Keep. It wasn’t large but it was tactical. Its outer walls had been built right up to the edge of the shoreline on every side but this one, with its walls slanted in to out in order to make scaling and climbing a very difficult task indeed. Certain magical fields kept the dirt from eroding, making the structure a multi-generational facet to a new and needful republic, and thick stone blocks lay within its shallow depths, driven through with rusted iron rings through which to moor visiting craft.

The only place upon which anyone could land soldiers was this thin strip of beach, also buttressed against erosion, at the front gate of the entire structure. Maybe a few dozen soldiers, tops, had the room to assemble and fight effectively upon this sandy and rocky terrain, upon which a few straggly, leave-less and thin wooden plants also lived. It looked like an assaulters’ nightmare. Or a defenders’ paradise.

The party rechecked their gear, looking about to make sure nothing was missing. Then they bid good-bye to the transport crew, who good-lucked them back as they left, shoving off hard from the sandy embankment.

“Well, bros and brahs, this is it. All on our own. In a place that is haunted. And a cleric that, get this, can finally turn! Buzzow!” Wex exclaimed, taking off his mask and doing a a tight little jig.

“Hey man, congratulations!” Bern said, slapping him on the back. “You mentioned that before, mate. How did that happen?”

“Ah, well, as far as I can tell my Gamer was whining about something and the Chief Gamer gave in and boom, I just felt wiser and more powerful.”

“I wish my Gamer was a whiny whiner,” Carric complained. “I’ve heard whispers from above that when I get to high enough level I can cast fireball!”

“Hold up, hold up,” Yenrab interrupted. “Hi, ya know, Yenrab the half-orc barbarian here, what exactly is this stuff? What is turning and what is fireball?”

Tracy held up his hand. Yenrab tried to ignore him. Tracy waved his hand and began to jump up and down. The rest of the party giggled, staying mum.

“Oh for the sakes of the gods. Yes, Tracy?” Yenrab groaned, though a hint of humor danced about his cheeks.

“Turning is when a cleric or priest of someone with god-bestowed power tries to use the god-bestowed power. What one can do with it and how many times they can do it depends on the god. A good god usually devotes a lot of energy to turning the undead, scaring them off or even destroying their essence. The neutral gods like Mask are kinda hit or miss on what they do and how often. And the evil gods, well they tend to try to use their energy to control or to recruit the undead.”

Yenrab looked at Wex for confirmation. Wex nodded, looking quite impressed.

“Alright, that was pretty good Tracy,” the barbarian complimented him. “So, now, what is this other thing. Fireball? A ball of fire?”

“Not exactly. It’s more like, well, let me show you,” the sorcerer said, turning and chanting. All eyes were upon him as he blasted a group of reedy plants, exploding them into every direction simultaneously. Other plants nearby began to creep away from the blaze.

Bern Sandros whistled. Wex clapped. Carric murmured something about having to choose a different spell.

“That’s incredible!” Yenrab beamed. “I’ll admit, I was a little worried about this challenge, but with that in our weapons rack I’m not worried at all! How many times can you do that Tracy?”

“Once per eight hour rest,” the half-elf sorcerer beamed back. “I can’t do it anymore until I’ve slept a long time,” he explained further, still smiling as Yenrab’s face dropped and paled, green turning to light, almost white green.

“Gods alive,” the half-human half-orc moaned. “We’re all doomed.”

Chapter 1 = https://www.reddit.com/r/shortstories/comments/edngy6/humor_hm_fantasy_fn_cadorna_keep_chapter_1_a_dnd/

submitted by /u/damienleehanson [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/374pjIm

[badwolf1988-blog]

Beauty and the Beast

Summary: When Sonny Corinthos hears of a sex slave auction going down in his territory he goes to shut it down...never expecting to find the Beauty to his Beast. AU Sonny/Emily

Rated: R

Disclaimer: I do not own General Hospital. A bunch of evil villains at Disney do. Those buttheads also own the lyrics to the song Beauty and the Beast.

Status: COMPLETE

Author's Note: This story is AU...as are all of my Sonny stories if you have not noticed. Emily is sixteen (I'm on a lolita kick...sue me!) and Sonny is thirty-six (picture the Sonny from around 1998-2001). This story features a romantic relationship between an adult and a teenager. It also kinda/sorta deals with the sex trade if you squint. No, I don't know why my brain works the way that it does so please don't ask. There has been no Lily, no Brenda, Carly, Alexis, Sam...I'm not continuing this list because I want to get around to actually writing the story but you get the point. Carly does appear as a supporting character but she is with Jason in this story. The Emily in this fic is Amber Tamblyn and the Jason is Steve Burton...the ONLY Jason in my opinion (Billy Miller who?). Oh, one last thing...Sonny and Mike's relationship was mended prior to this story ever starting...because I like Mike (hehe, that rhymed). This story is to make up for the loss of The Mobster and the Actress and Princess Diana (the story, not the person!). I hope everyone enjoys!

WARNING!!! Dark Sonny ahead! Read the title folks. It's obvious that Sonny is the Beast to Emily's Beauty. He's dark, he's dangerous, he's sexual...he's everything we loved about him back in the day prior to what I like to call the After Penthouse Disaster or APD for short. Seriously, Sonny's character went to shit when he left the penthouse and moved to Greystone. I'm still pissed off they introduced a grown biological son in Dante and they made him a COP. Dante is sexy and alpha male enough to be Sonny's heir apparent...and HE'S A COP! I saw Dominic Zamprogna as a villain on Supernatural and he was awesome! He was a vampire that could both terrify you and make you want to beg him to take you to bed...not kidding. The episode is in season one and is called Bloodlust. He would make a badass, sexy mobster if the writers would get their heads out of their asses. I don't care how they do it. Pull a Jason on him and have him knock his noggin (seriously, does Jase even have a brain left after all the hits he's taken?) and forget being a good guy...just DO IT!

SPANISH TO ENGLISH TRANSLATIONS:

¿Tu hablas español? - You speak Spanish?

Un poco – A little/A bit

Te quiero, Emily. ¿Serás la el Belleza a mi Bestia? - I love you, Emily. Will you be the Beauty to my Beast?

De Verdad? - For real?

Sonny arrived in his penthouse after a long day of dealing with business at the coffee warehouse...both kinds of business. He was the newest boss in the five families having only taken the helm of the Port Charles territory five years earlier, and everyone seemed to think that young meant weak. He was proving the other bosses wrong but it was tiring him out. Just that morning, Jason, his underboss, discovered that three of the employees at the coffee warehouse were plants from a rival family trying to get information on the Corinthos operation. They had been dealt with but after that, he had been needed to deal with actual legitimate, legal business. Corinthos/Morgan Coffee Co. was under audit by the IRS (as it was every year) and Sonny had been needed for questioning by the government accountant...the questioning had taken over two hours.

Now, he was home, he was alone, and all he really wanted was to get laid. He was a man. He wasn't going to lie.

He was just thinking of taking a shower and heading out to Club 101 to see if he could pick up an easy lay when his front door opened and Jason walked in.

"You gotta see this..." Jason threw a thin catalog in his lap.

Sonny picked up the catalog. He immediately felt like he was going to be sick. This was no catalog that you would receive in the mail. This catalog had the photograph of a half-naked little girl on the cover and the poor thing looked terrified.

"What the fuck is this and why did I need to see it?" Sonny asked as he opened the catalog against his better judgment.

The pages were full of girls between the ages of five and eighteen who were...for sale. Their ages, measurements and virginal status were listed like they were animals up for adoption at the local animal shelter but that wasn't the case. Animals would be treated better.

"This is an auction going down at Coleman's place tonight and he's telling anyone who asks that he's operating with your okay."

Sonny saw red. Coleman was the sleaziest criminal in town. He owned a dive bar on the docks and was always looking for ways to make a quick buck. Sonny usually looked the other way when it came to the shit that Coleman got up to – he was too small-time for him to worry about. Well, it looked like Coleman had decided to step-up his game...and there was no way in hell this auction was going down. Not in Port Charles. Not in Sonny's territory.

"Call Alexis and have her get in touch with Taggart. Give him the catalog and tell him what you just told me...except leave out Coleman's name...I'll deal with that son of a bitch myself." Sonny got to his feet.

"You wanna bring the cops in on this?" Jason looked surprised.

"These girls are going to need places to stay, families to look after them...we can't handle that...plus, if I give Taggart a big bust maybe he'll stay the hell off my ass for a while."

Maybe if Taggart got his pretty face in the papers he would back off harassing Sonny for a week or two. Stranger things had been known to happen.

"Give me two hours and then call Alexis." Were his last orders before he was out the door.

The inside of Coleman's bar was packed...Coleman's was never packed. You were likely to pick up some kind of infection from a dirty glass or undercooked food. Not only was the bar packed but the people who were hanging around nursing drinks were not Coleman's regular low-life customers. These were well-dressed, important men. Sonny mentally took note of the familiar faces so he could deal with them later.

He walked up to the bar and took silent glee in the panic that came over Coleman's rat-like face when he saw him.

"Mr. Corinthos, sir...ho...how can I help you tonight?" Coleman's eyes darted towards the brown wooden swinging door that led to the storage room. Well, at least now he knew where the girls were being kept.

He held up a finger to silence the terrified bar owner as he took out his cell phone and sent a message to Jason.

***Girls are in the storage room.***

Once he was done, he turned his attention back to Coleman...who was now nervously polishing a beer stein with a dirty dishtowel.

"What's this I hear about an auction going down tonight?" Sonny leaned his hip casually against the bar. "And why wasn't my permission sought?"

"My guy, Tony, told me we had your okay, Mr. Corinthos."

He was lying through his teeth. For one, he didn't have a guy named Tony. He didn't have anyone working under him at all. Number two, everyone and their mother knew the consequences of bringing drugs or the sex trade to Port Charles. Sonny didn't allow it. Never had. Never would.

"We even got you a real nice present for your generosity, sir." Coleman seemed to be thinking on his feet but Sonny was willing to play along for a little while longer. The longer Coleman thought he was going to live the better. It would make it that much sweeter when he put a bullet between his eyes.

"Let's see it," He nodded his head.

Coleman set down the glass and rag and quickly opened the bar divider to allow Sonny to follow him back into the kitchen and to his office at the back of the building.

When he opened the dingy, plywood door of the office, there seated in the cold metal folding chair that sat behind the TV tray that served as a desk was...a goddess. A young, terrified goddess with long chestnut hair and big, round, innocent eyes. She had silent tears streaming down her face and was wearing a dress that a Spice Girl wouldn't even consider. It was strapless and silver and would probably barely cover her ass when she stood up. She couldn't have been any older than eighteen.

"She just turned sixteen last month." Coleman smiled like he was actually proud of himself for procuring the angel girl that sat in front of him. "Pure as the fresh fallen snow too. Her step-daddy couldn't afford her no more so he sold her to me for a pretty fair price...you can have first crack at her."

The weeping angel in front of him was the only thing that saved Coleman's life in that moment. The poor girl had already been through enough. She didn't need to witness his death.

Sonny put on what Jason called the "face of death" and turned to stare Coleman down.

"She's leaving with me...and someone tipped off the cops." He growled low in his throat and out of the corner of his eye, he saw the girl shiver in terror. "We have to get you out of town. Meet me on the docks, Pier 5, in two hours."

"Yes, sir, Mr. Corinthos," Coleman nodded before bolting out the door. The idiot would never know that he wasn't going to be leaving the docks alive.

Once he was alone with the girl, his first priority was making sure that she knew that he wasn't going to harm her. She was probably still under the impression that he was going to take her somewhere horrible and rape her. No...he was going to take her home and take care of her.

He knelt down in front of her. "What's your name, querida?"

"Em..Emil...Emily." She finally managed to get out.

He reached out a hand to caress her cheek and could barely suppress the rage that came over him when she cringed away in terror.

"I'm not here to hurt you and I'm not going to let anyone else hurt you either. My name's Sonny." He told her as soothingly as a guy like him knew how. "I was just playing Coleman to get him out of the way. I'm the one who called the cops."

"Rea...really?" She finally looked up and caught his gaze. Damn, her eyes really were beautiful.

"Really," He gave her a full dimpled smile. The kind he knew drove women crazy. Now, Sonny wasn't cocky but he knew he was appealing to women. "Can I get you out of here before the cops get here? If you're still here when they get here, you're going to be put in the system with the other girls."

He saw the terror in her eyes blaze back to life at the mention of foster care.

"Please," She begged.

"Come on, sweetheart." He held out his hand.

Once she fully got to her feet he realized that he had been wrong. The dress didn't cover her delectable ass at all and he didn't want the other perverts outside in the bar eyeballing her.

He shrugged out of his long brown suede jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. It looked like a circus tent on her tiny frame but it covered her up. No one got to look at what belonged to him...and he intended to make Emily his just as soon as humanly possible.

Keeping her hand clasped tightly in his he quickly led her through the kitchen, out of the crowded barroom, and out to the parking lot where his bodyguard, Johnny, was waiting with his limo.

He helped Emily into the backseat and scooted close to her as Johnny closed the door.

"How are you doing, querida?" He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and asked gently.

"I'm scared this is all some kind of trick..." She admitted in a meek little whisper. "That you are just trying to gain my trust so I won't fight you so much when you fuck me."

Sonny winced internally. That disgusting word should never leave that beautiful mouth.

He grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him.

"I would NEVER force myself on a woman...trust me, sweetheart...I don't need to." He felt her shiver a bit against his side. What was that all about? "I would never touch you unless you gave me permission. It's YOUR body. You're the ONLY one who decides who gets the honor of touching it." He told her firmly. "And you, querida, are not a woman to be fucked." He saw a flash of hurt in her eyes and realized that his words had come out the wrong way. "Whores get fucked. A man makes love to a woman like you."

If he wasn't mistaken, a tiny smile briefly passed over her face.

Sonny returned with Emily to Harborview Towers. He gave Johnny orders to keep the car running before escorting his girl (he really didn't care that his mind had decided to call her that) up to his penthouse.

Even though he had two guest rooms, he led her to the master bedroom – to his room. Knowing that Emily didn't have anything to change into, he went to his dresser and pulled out a blue silk pajama shirt and handed it to her.

"I'll call and have Wyndham's send over some clothes for you in the morning but for tonight you can sleep in this." He handed it to her as she took a seat on the edge of his bed. "What size are you, querida?"

"Six," She replied absentmindedly. She seemed to be lost in thought. "This is your room." She turned to look at him.

He nodded slowly. "You don't have to sleep in here if you don't want to, sweetheart. I just figured that after what you've been through that you wouldn't want to be alone tonight. I can put you in one of the guest rooms if you would be more comfortable."

"No!" She said quickly as she frantically shook her head.

He quickly moved to take a seat at her side. "Just breathe, Emily. You are welcome in here as long as you want to stay." He assured her as he rubbed her back. She was welcome for the rest of her fucking life.

She turned to look at him with tears in her eyes. "Thank you," She said with such sincerity that Sonny's heart almost broke clear in half. The beautiful creature sitting on his red duvet, who would soon be slipping into his black satin sheets, had obviously not been shown much kindness in her short life. He was going to have to change that.

"You're welcome, querida." He nodded towards a door off to the right. "The bathroom's in there. Why don't you go and have a shower and relax? My robe's on the back of the door...you can use it if you want. I have to run out for a bit."

"Where are you going? When will you be back?" Her panic was back in full force.

"The bar that I found you in was in my territory. I need to go and deal with the police and talk to my attorney. I won't be gone long...I promise." He lied as he reached out and caressed her cheek.

He saw by the look on her face that she didn't fully comprehend what he was talking about but eventually she nodded.

"There's a guard at the front door and you have the run of the penthouse." He made sure to assure her before he left.

Just like the idiot that Sonny knew that he was, Coleman was waiting for him on the docks when he arrived.

"Mr. Corinthos, sir," Sonny wanted to laugh at the fact that Coleman was actually relieved to see him. Fucking moron.

Sonny casually strolled to Coleman's side before grabbing the back of his neck and forcing him to his knees.

"What the – ?" The slimeball looked up at him in confusion.

"Tell me, Coleman," Sonny spoke so nonchalantly that you would think he was discussing the score of the previous night's football game. "What made you think I would let you get away with selling little girls on my turf?" He reached inside his jacket and extracted his rarely used pearl-handled .45. The gun was usually just for show. He didn't like to get his hands dirty...that's what Jason was for – what Jason was good at – but for this piece of shit, he was willing to make an exception.

"Tony said we had your permission, sir!" Coleman sat on his knees with his hands raised in the air. For what reason, Sonny didn't know. He wasn't the fucking fuzz.

Sonny pulled a silencer from his pants pocket and screwed it on the barrel of his weapon. He took aim at Coleman's right knee and fired once. Usually, there was a feeling of disgust that came with this part of his job. The Catholic in him would never let him forget that he was headed for an eternity in hell for his chosen profession. But when he felt the recoil of the .45 a feeling of intense pleasure surged through him.

Coleman fell to his back clutching his knee on the wooden planks of the dock. "Fuck!"

"There is no Tony, Coleman. You wanna tell me the truth or do you wanna lose your other knee?" He aimed the gun at the injured man's left knee.

"Fine! I'll talk!" Coleman managed to pull himself into a seated position but said nothing further.

Sonny fired once into the water. "I'm waiting!" He could feel himself starting to lose control of his temper real quick.

"A boss outta Bensonhurst...Joe Scully, paid me a lot of money to put this auction together for some of his important clients. He told me that if you objected to just offer you my prettiest teenager." Coleman was talking fast and not once did he take his eyes off of the barrel of the gun that Sonny still had aimed at him. "Joe said you wouldn't want a little girl."

That was for damn sure. He wasn't a fucking pedophile. Emily might be underage but she was far from a little girl. She was barely under the age of consent in New York.

Sonny had heard all that he needed to know. The cowering waste of life in front of him was of no more use to him.

He raised the barrel of his gun and took aim between Coleman's eyes. He fired once and his knuckles turned white from the grip he had on the handle of his weapon as the bar owner's black soul departed the earth.

"Johnny," He called over his shoulder.

"Yeah, boss?"

"Call Max and have him come clean up this mess."

"Yes, sir."

Ignoring the corpse lying at his feet, Sonny checked his watch. It was only a little after ten. Kelly's would be open for another forty-five minutes. It was too late to cook and he had no clue when the last time Emily ate was. He decided to stop in and pick her up something.

When he walked in the front door of the diner, his father showed surprise at seeing him.

"Michael!" He smiled. God, Sonny hated it when his old man called him that. "What brings you here so late, son?"

"Business ran late," Sonny replied. His father knew damn well what he did for a living and in no way approved. For the sake of their fragile relationship, Mike never discussed work with his son. "Can I get two bacon cheeseburgers to go?"

Mike quickly called the order into the back.

"Either you are really hungry...or you have a date." His father smirked.

"Neither," Sonny shook his head. "Helping a friend out who's going through some stuff."

"Good boy," Mike nodded in approval.

"Well, if it isn't the jackass who stole my husband on date night!"

Sonny knew that voice. He put a smirk on his face before turning around to face Jason's wife, Carly.

"Jase still not home yet, harlot?" He asked.

"I really wish you two would stop calling each other names...you're practically family." Mike sighed.

They both laughed as Sonny slung a friendly arm around Carly's shoulders. "Come on, Pops, Caroline here is the sister that you and Mama wouldn't give me. This is how we show our love."

Mike just shook his head and walked away to check on his son's order.

"Don't call me Caroline!" Carly snapped as she pulled away. "And you know damn well that Jason isn't home yet...though I will admit this is the first time in awhile he's been stuck in a police station and not been under arrest so that is a plus...did you guys really bust up a sex-slave ring?"

Sonny nodded before he got a sudden idea. "Yeah...and I need your help with something."

Carly raised an eyebrow. "Don't you usually yell at Jason for telling me too much about work? Now you actually want my help with something?"

"This isn't about work," Sonny shook his head. "When I went to check out the auction tonight, Coleman tried to offer me a girl to let it go on."

"That fucker!" Carly hissed in outrage.

"Caroline Morgan!" Mike scolded from the kitchen like the woman was a small child.

"Sorry, Mike!" Carly called back even though Sonny knew she wasn't sorry. That just wasn't Carly's style. "Go on," She urged. "What do you need?"

"The girl – Emily – she's sixteen and she's been in the foster care system before so she's staying with me. I was going to have a chat with Alexis in the morning to see what we can do about getting her legally emancipated." He explained.

"I'm yours to command, boss." Carly agreed right away. She had had a rough start in life herself and had been raised in the foster care system. If she hadn't have found Jason, Lord only knows what would have become of her. Jason kept the impulsively reckless Carly in check and Carly brought out the softer non-robot like side in his best friend. That's why he had always approved of her. Jason and Carly were two pieces of the same puzzle.

"She has no clothes, no nothing...I was going to have one of my guys pick her up some things in the morning –"

"Oh, hell no," Carly held up a hand to stop him. "What size is she?"

"Six," Sonny smiled. "I figured you would know more what to get than say...Max."

"Damn straight," Carly nodded. "The poor girl's been through enough without Max picking out her clothes." Yeah, now that she said it like that, Sonny had no clue what he had been originally thinking. "I'll stop by tomorrow with a few outfits...just the necessities. When she's feeling up to it, I'm hijacking your credit card and taking her on a shopping spree."

Sonny knew he could count on Carly. It would be good for Emily to have another female around to confide in and do the stuff that he sure as hell wasn't doing – shopping, nail salons. Carly was well-equipped to teach Emily the ropes of being the spoiled girl of a made guy. He fully intended on spoiling her rotten so she had better learn quickly.

"Whatever you need to get her set up." He readily agreed.

"You are willingly handing your credit card over...to me of all people?" Carly looked at him incredulously. She studied him for a moment before a look of pure shock came over her pretty face. "You like her!" She gasped. "Sonny, that's statuary rape." She lowered her voice.

"Only if I have sex with her and someone finds out...and I ain't pushing her," Sonny whispered back equally as quiet.

"Holy shit!" Sonny had to shoot her a look to get her to lower her voice. "I think you more than like her!"

"Caroline!" Mike appeared at the counter with his order and Sonny was silently thanking his father for the rescue.

"Sorry, Mikey," Carly pouted and his father was actually dumb enough to fall for her schoolgirl routine...sucker.

Sonny pulled out his wallet and handed his father his black card. "After you run it, give it to her," He jerked his head in Carly's direction.

As he stood from his stool to leave and grabbed the takeout bag, he leaned down and whispered, "If you don't bug me anymore about Emily you can get yourself something nice too."

"I was gonna do that anyway!" Carly called at his retreating back.

"Harlot!"

"Jackass!"

"Michael! Caroline!"

"Night, Pops!" Sonny chuckled as he made his way out the door.

When Sonny finally arrived home, it was to find Emily curled up asleep on his couch. She was wearing his robe and was clutching a throw pillow to her chest like a lifeline.

Being careful not to wake her, he took a seat on the coffee table in front of her and set the takeout bag beside him. He reached out and gently shook her.

She shot up like a rocket, panting for breath and looking around wildly. He realized that she was confused and didn't know where she was.

"Querida, calm down," He reached out and rubbed her arm. "It's just me...Sonny."

It took a moment but once she fully woke up and realized it was him she relaxed.

"Sorry," She said sheepishly, looking down at her hands.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for." Now that she was sitting up, he moved to sit beside her on the couch. Testing her limits, he slid close to her and slipped his arm around her shoulders. Surprisingly, she moved closer instead of moving away. "You're in a new place and you're safe, sweetheart...I don't think you're used to feeling that way."

She shook her head. "My mom died of breast cancer when I was twelve. My step-dad, Luis, has a gambling problem. He also likes to drink." She surprised him by opening up. "It started out with him hitting me when he was drunk...but then he got over his head in debt...and I was the easiest way to pay it off."

"What's your step-father's last name?" He tried to keep the anger out of his tone. He didn't want her to think it was directed at her.

"Alcazar"

Looks like he had a little side-job for Jason. Her bastard step-father was NOT going to get away with what he had done to the girl he was charged with protecting.

"Where are you from, querida?"

"Pheonix"

That was all he needed to know. He decided to change the subject. He didn't want Emily dwelling on her past. That was over.

"Are you hungry?" He rubbed her shoulder. "I picked you up a burger while I was out."

"Would you be upset if I said I just wanted to go to sleep?" She turned her head to look at him.

"Not at all, sweetheart." He shook his head and smiled. "Do you want to go to bed alone or do you want me with you?"

"You with me." She said so quietly that he almost didn't hear her.

He stood and held out his hand for her. She took it and he silently led her up the penthouse stairs and to his bedroom. He tucked her into bed (she wasn't comfortable with removing his robe) and retreated into the bathroom to shower and change for bed. When he emerged he couldn't keep the smile off his face when he saw Emily curled up in his robe, hugging his pillow and sleeping peacefully. He couldn't help but think that she was exactly where she was meant to be...in his bed...in his life. What the hell was happening to him? He had just met Emily...there was just something about her. She drew him to her without even trying...and he had never felt that kind of a pull before.

Careful not to wake her, he climbed in beside her but made sure to keep his distance lest he frighten her away. Being only a foot away and not being able to touch her, to hold her, to make love to her, was pure torture but if it meant that he got to keep her, in the long run, he was willing to endure it.

When Sonny awoke it was to find a very pleasant and very feminine pressure atop his chest. Opening his eyes he found that they had switched positions in the night. Emily now lay curled up on his chest, her chestnut hair tickling his nose, and he had his arms wrapped around her waist.

He chanced it and laid a kiss on top of her head and she started to stir in his arms.

When she finally opened her eyes, she tried to pull away in embarrassment. "I am so –"

"Don't," He interrupted and held her to him tighter. "say you're sorry."

"But I was laying on top of you all night...that couldn't have been comfortable." She mumbled but she laid her head back down on his chest.

Was she kidding? She actually thought that holding her was an uncomfortable chore for him? He would have laughed if he hadn't known that she was serious.

"Querida, there was nothing uncomfortable about it." He rubbed her arm. "You obviously needed someone to hold you...and I was happy to do it."

"Why?"

That question threw him for a moment.

"Why what?"

Emily sat up a little to look at him. "Why are you doing this? Why are you helping me, buying me clothes, holding me while I sleep?"

For someone so young, she was very inquisitive.

"Can I tell you a story?" He asked.

She nodded.

He couldn't believe what he was about to share with her but he did it anyway. "When I was about two, my pops hit the bricks. He had a gambling problem and would bounce in and out of me and my mom's lives until I was five...then he just disappeared and my mama divorced him. A year later, she met this cop named Deke and remarried. He beat the shit out of both of us pretty much from the start. When I was fifteen, I ran away and never looked back. My mama died a year later. So, you see, sweetheart, we aren't that different."

He hadn't really thought about how alike they were. Abusive step-fathers, dead mothers – no wonder he was drawn to her. They were kindred spirits.

"Not exactly a fairy tale." Was Emily's response as she laid her head on his chest once more. It surprised him when he felt her gently running her fingers along his chest through his shirt.

"Oh, I don't know. It did have a happy ending...my old man found me when I was twenty-one and we're good now. He owns the diner here in town. Once you have some clothes, I'll take you there for lunch and you can meet him." He was sharing more with this girl than he had shared with anyone in his life. This included his father, Jason, and Carly...combined.

"I'd like that," This time when she looked at him, she didn't bother sitting up, she simply moved to lay her head on his shoulder so she could see his face. "So, your happily ever after is reconciling with your dad and being a..." She hesitated.

"Being a what?" He gave her hip a gentle tap.

"I'm not sure if I'm allowed to say it..." She looked a little scared and it hit him. Emily knew what he did.

"A made guy?" He whispered in her ear while at the same time praying to a God that had probably stopped listening to him a long time ago that she wouldn't run away from him.

"Yeah,"

She didn't pull away. She just laid there and stared at him.

"Does it bother you?" He asked softly.

This time she sat up entirely and Sonny immediately missed the warm softness of her body against his.

"It should...but it doesn't." She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "I knew who you were when you walked into Coleman's office last night. You make the news a lot...even in Arizona. When I saw you...I felt like my worst nightmare was coming true...but you saved me." He could hear the tears in her voice and he didn't want them to fall.

Her worst nightmare? Why would he be her worst nightmare? Sonny felt like there was something that she wasn't telling him but hearing her starting to get upset, he shut the conversation down.

"So," He gently pulled her to lay down beside him and rolled on his side to face her just as she did the same thing. "Back to what we were talking about. My happily ever is having my pops in my life, good friends...and maybe, just maybe, I've found my princess." The way he was looking at her made sure she knew that he was talking about her and her alone.

Emily blushed and hid her face in the pillow. Sonny figured that he had pushed her far enough for one morning.

"We should probably be getting up, querida." He reached out and ran his hand down her arm. "My friend Carly is coming by with some clothes for you and my lawyer is coming over to discuss what we can do about getting you emancipated."

"Okay."

His lawyer, Alexis Davis, was the first to arrive that morning. Seeing as Emily still didn't have any clothes, she stayed upstairs eating the breakfast he had prepared for her while he met with Alexis in the living room.

After he explained Emily's situation, Alexis explained their options.

"There are two ways for someone in Emily's situation to become legally emancipated." The prim and proper lady lawyer started pulling documents out of her briefcase. "The first option is to petition the court. That could take up to six months and you would have to jump through a lot of hoops – she would have to prove that she was financially capable of supporting herself, she'd have to have a stable home and be enrolled in some type of high school program."

While Sonny planned on encouraging Emily to finish her education there was no way in hell any woman of his was working. If she wanted to go to college and pursue a career in something she actually enjoyed doing...that was fine and he'd happily pay her way through school but he wasn't going to allow her to work some dead-end job as a waitress or grocery store clerk.

"Second option," Sonny prompted.

"She could get married."

Now he was listening. The second option provided him with a way of saving her from the bonds of childhood and secured him what he wanted most...her.

"She's under eighteen, how could I legally marry her?"

"Sonny...I said she could get married...I never said you had to be the one to marry her." Alexis gave him that look that told him that she clearly didn't approve.

While Alexis was one hell of a lawyer and could be counted on as a friend if the situation was right, she only saw the world in black and white. She didn't understand the gray areas in which he lived. Morally...she was as by the book as you could get. He should have known better than to reveal his intentions for Emily in front of her.

"There is no one else." He snapped, making Alexis jump. "We can have it annulled or get divorced as soon as she turns eighteen. I'm trying to protect the girl, Lex." It was partially the truth. He did intend to protect Emily...with his life if necessary but any marriage he entered into with her would be as real as she would allow him to make it.

"A marriage of convenience?"

Sonny nodded. Alexis could believe whatever the hell she liked so long as he got what he wanted.

"Okay," This seemed to appease her. "You would have to get parental consent." She pulled a form from a file folder on the coffee table and handed it to him. "I'm sure you have ways of getting her deadbeat stepfather to sign it." She said sarcastically.

Oh, he sure did.

As Alexis was leaving, Jason showed up with Carly...and his bodyguard, Max...who looked like he was carrying half a department store's worth of shopping bags.

"I thought you said you were only buying her necessities?" He raised an eyebrow at her.

"These are necessities." Carly rolled her eyes as Max deposited the bags by the front door before quickly taking off. After a morning spent with the Queen of Shopping, Sonny couldn't blame the guy. Jason was wearing a look that told his boss that he too had been dragged along on his wife's morning adventure. "I got her a couple of outfits, some nightgowns, underthings, private lady stuff...you told me to get her set up."

Sonny did something very uncharacteristic of him. He walked up to Carly and kissed her cheek. "Thank you."

Carly's mouth fell open. "Did you just thank me?"

"Don't get used to it." Sonny rolled his eyes.

"Okay, where is this miracle girl?" Carly started looking around as if Emily was hiding behind the curtains or something. "I need to meet her before I nominate her for sainthood."

"Upstairs...waiting on some clothes." He reminded her.

"Oh, yeah, right!" Carly snapped her fingers before grabbing a couple of shopping bags and heading up the stairs.

Once his wife was out of earshot, Jason turned to Sonny with a pained expression on his face. "Please, tell me you have a job for me where I can fuck someone up? I need to release some stress after this morning."

Sonny smirked before telling him he was taking a little trip to Arizona.

When Carly returned downstairs she wasn't alone. Emily was with her and...damn she looked good. He had to hand it to Carly, she knew how to dress people. His girl was wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a long pink cashmere sweater that fell off one shoulder exposing just enough of her creamy skin to make his pants tighten uncomfortably...he was really glad that he was sitting down.

"You look beautiful, querida." He smiled at her making her blush. He loved that he could make her do that.

"Thanks...Carly has really good taste." Emily smiled before coming to take a seat beside him on the couch.

"So," Carly made her way over to where Jason was seated in the armchair and plopped down on his lap. The man that most of Port Charles was afraid of almost immediately wrapped a gentle arm around his wife's waist. "I was asking Em what she likes to do and she told me that she really likes to read so I was thinking...I have a running tab at Rowling Books – I go every Monday to pick up my magazines – maybe we could set Emily up an account too and she could start going with me. That's also the day I get my hair and nails done so I was thinking she could tag along for that too. It would get her out of the penthouse and help her get to know Port Charles."

Sonny didn't know why Carly had taken so well to Emily. She wasn't the type of woman who usually got along with other women but if Carly was going to take his girl under her wing, he wasn't going to question it.

He nodded and wrapped his arm around Emily's shoulders. He had to hold back a smirk when he felt her scoot closer and lean into his side. "I think that would be a great idea if that's what you want, querida." He looked down at her.

She nodded and smiled.

"Speaking of you two going out," Jason lightly smacked Carly's thigh. "Why don't you take Emily on that shopping trip you were talking about this weekend? I'm going to be out of town for a few days."

"Where are you going this time?" Carly huffed in annoyance.

"Doesn't matter," Jason shook his head.

"Yes, it does! I'm your wife!"

Sonny could sense one of the Morgans epic arguments coming on so he decided to step in with the truth. "He's going to Pheonix."

Emily looked up at him sharply. "Why?"

"Because there is a paper we need your step-dad to sign so we can get you emancipated."

"Is he going to...you know?" She looked at him suspiciously.

Jason and Carly had stopped arguing and were now watching the both of them intently. It was like him and Emily were characters on some kind of interesting soap opera.

"Do you want him to?" He asked her seriously.

Immediately she shook her head in the negative. "No...I just never want to see him again."

Sonny nodded. "Fine...but you know he still has to be taught a lesson, right?" There was no way Luis Alcazar was going to get a free pass on what he had done. He would respect Emily's wishes and he wouldn't have Jason kill him...but the man was going to know some serious pain.

Emily just nodded and then turned to Jason. "Can you do me a favor while you're there?" She asked.

Jason nodded.

"In my bedroom at the top the stairs, there's a music box sitting my dresser...my mom gave it to me when I was little. It has Beauty and the Beast along the base and a spinning glass covered rose on top." She described it. "Could you get it for me?"

"Of course he can," Carly answered for him and smacked his chest. "Right?"

"I was going to say yes all on my own, Carly." Jason glared.

Much to Sonny's displeasure, Carly had kidnapped Emily for most of the weekend. On Saturday Carly had taken his girl on the promised shopping trip and to set up an account at the local bookstore. He had been amused when Emily had come home with more books than clothes and declared that she was never going shopping with Carly again. Yeah...that was most people's reactions after shopping with Carly Morgan.

On Sunday Carly took Emily out for a spa day. Sonny decided to use the free time to catch up on some work at the coffee bean warehouse.

That afternoon, Jason found him in his office going over invoices when he returned from Arizona.

"How'd it go?" He asked without looking up.

"I'm pretty sure Alcazar learned his lesson and he signed this."

The parental consent form (signed...with what looked to be a speck of dried blood in the corner) was slid onto the desk in front of him.

"Did you get Em's music box?" He looked up.

Jason laid that in front of him on the desk as well. He also laid a powder blue scrapbook with a silver glitter heart on the cover down as well.

"I thought you might be interested in that as well."

Curiously, Sonny opened the cover of the scrapbook. The inside was a teenage girl's secret shrine to her favorite crush. It was filled with newspaper and magazine pictures and articles as well as pages she had obviously printed off of the internet. Normal teenage girls kept this kind of scrapbook dedicated to a boyband member or actor...Emily was not a normal teenage girl. This scrapbook was dedicated to him.

Suddenly, everything clicked for him. She had known who he was when they had first met. She had told him that she thought her worst nightmare was coming true when he walked into Coleman's office on Monday evening. It was her worst nightmare because she thought the man that she had a crush on was there to rape her.

A smirk came over his face. His girl wanted him just as badly as he wanted her.

Sonny made sure he was home waiting for her when Emily returned from her day at the spa.

He was seated on the couch and the scrapbook was placed directly in the center of the coffee table. When she saw it, she froze on her way to join him on the couch.

"What's wrong, querida?" He held out his hand to her.

"Did you open that?" She ignored his hand.

He nodded slowly.

Her eyes started to fill with tears as her face turned so red that Sonny half expected steam to come out of her ears.

He quickly got to his feet and went and took her in his arms. "It's okay, querida." He murmured into her hair.

"You probably think I'm some stupid little girl now..." She mumbled into his chest where she had buried her face.

He chuckled huskily and gently pushed her back so he could cup her face in his hand and look in her eyes.

"I think it explains why you let me touch you...why you come willingly to my bed every night and let me hold you." He ran his thumb along her bottom lip. "You want me just like I want you."

She gasped and her eyes darted up to meet his.

He smiled and dropped a soft, quick and chaste kiss on her lips. He couldn't help himself. He had been wanting to kiss her for almost a week.

"But I'm only sixteen..." Emily shook her head but she was smiling.

He stepped back and took her hand and led her to the couch. He took a seat and pulled her to sit next to him before reaching over into the breast pocket of his suit jacket and extracting the parental consent form. Without a word, he passed it to her.

He watched as she unfolded the paper and read it.

She turned to look at him in shock. "Sonny, you can't be serious."

"Why not?"

"Because..." She trailed off unable to think of anything to say.

"The way I see it...I want you and you want me. Getting married would also give you the same legal freedom as emancipation." He explained.

"Wanting someone isn't a reason to get married Sonny...and you could have me without a marriage license." She surprised him by admitting. "You're not obligated to me."

This time he did laugh at her.

"Querida, you are not an obligation. If I wanted to help you I could have just let the cops put you in the system. I brought you here because I wanted to be with you." He told her the truth. "Do you actually know what querida means?"

"Darling...or lover in certain contexts."

He smiled. "¿Tu hablas español?"

"Un poco." She responded.

He reached to the side table and grabbed her music box. "Let's see if you understand this..." He handed it to her. "Te quiero, Emily. ¿Serás la el Belleza a mi Bestia?"

He waited for her to notice the new edition to the music box. When he had discovered that the glass lid lifted off of the base, he had placed the engagement ring that he had bought that afternoon beneath the stem of the delicate porcelain rose before replacing the lid.

When she finally did notice the ring her eyes started to water and she brought a hand up to cover her mouth as Sonny took the music box from her and carefully retrieved the ring before setting the box on the coffee table.

"De Verdad?" She finally asked.

"For real, baby." He nodded. "What do you say?"

She smiled as a single tear drop fell from her eye. "I say that...I love you too."

"Does that mean you'll marry me?" He held up the ring between his thumb and pointer finger.

"Yeah, it does." She nodded and held out her hand so he could slip the ring on her finger.

Once the diamond was where it belonged, he pulled her to him for what was only their second kiss. This time he allowed himself to kiss her deeper...because he knew that he could. He ran his tongue along the seam of her lips, asking for entrance which she readily granted. He explored her mouth before allowing his tongue to gently duel with hers.

When she moaned and pressed herself more firmly against him – her soft breasts pressing against his chest – he made himself pull back before things went too far.

"Why'd you stop?" Emily whined, partly out of breath.

Sonny smirked. "Because if you kept moaning like that I was going to end up doing something that won't be legal until we say "I Do"

Emily, seemingly in control of herself again, blushed and mumbled, "Sorry."

"Never be sorry for letting me know that you want me, baby." He sat back on the couch cushions and pulled her to straddle his lap. It wasn't helping calm his libido any but he really didn't fucking care. He had his girl and she loved him. He didn't want to let her too far out of his reach. "Because I'm not sorry for wanting you...and I do...all the time." She blushed even redder and he get couldn't resist laying a kiss on the tip of her nose. "We just gotta wait until we're married. If someone found out I took you to bed before the wedding I could get locked up."

"But who am I going to tell?" She surprised him by arguing.

"Carly," He said pointedly. "And – she won't mean to – but she will probably inadvertently tell the whole damn town...she can't help herself."

Emily laughed. It seemed his girl had gotten to know Carly Morgan well enough to know that he spoke the truth.

"And, I invited my pops over to have dinner with us tonight...can't have the old man catching us going at it and drop dead of a heart attack, now can we?" He smirked, his dimples in full force. "I kinda like the idea of my wife coming to our marriage bed a virgin...it means that you're exclusively mine. No other man but me has or will ever touch you."

"Sonny," This time Emily was the one smirking. "I've been yours since before we ever met...and that isn't changing. Wedding or no wedding, you will be the only man to ever touch me...I swear."

He couldn't resist, he pulled her down for another steamy kiss.

This was how his father found them when Johnny let him into the penthouse.

"Michael Corinthos, Jr.!" The old man scolded from the doorway.

The two broke apart. Emily had the good sense to look sheepish and get off his lap. Sonny on the other hand just had a cocky grin on his handsome face as he greeted his father.

"Hey, Pops," He got to his feet and held out his hand to help his fiancee (the only thing that sounded better in his mind was wife) to her feet. "There's someone here that I want you to meet..."

"Oh, you mean the pretty girl you were just mauling?" His father raised an eyebrow at him and the resemblance between father and son had never been clearer.

"If by pretty girl, you mean my fiancee...then yes, that is who I want you to meet, Pops." He led Emily up to his father. "Emily, this is my dad, Mike Corbin. Pops, this is my fiancee, Emily Bowen."

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Corbin." Emily held out her hand.

Mike just laughed and leaned forward to kiss her cheek. "You can call me Mike...or I guess Dad since it seems you're joining the family." He turned to look at Sonny. "Son, can I talk to you for a moment in the kitchen?"

Sonny already had a pretty good idea of what his father was going to say and nodded. "Querida, since I know you're dying to, why don't you run across the hall and show Carly your ring?" He suggested. "Invite her and Jason over to dinner...I meant to earlier but I forgot."

Emily smiled and kissed his cheek. "Be back in a few minutes."

Once in the kitchen, Sonny checked on the lamb in the oven while his father started in on him.

"Michael, how old is Emily?" He asked suspiciously.

"Doesn't matter," Sonny shut the oven and turned around to lean against the marble countertop. "I love her and she loves me." He folded his arms across his chest.

"So, she is underage?" Mike ran a hand over his face. "Jesus Christ, Michael, need I remind you that you are thirty-six-years-old?"

"Pops, how about instead of just assuming the worst about me you actually let me explain first?"

"Fine,"

Sonny spent the next twenty minutes explaining how he had come to meet Emily and the events leading up to their engagement.

"So, Emily was the friend you were helping out?" Mike's tone had greatly softened. It no longer held that judgemental tone that grated on Sonny's nerves.

Sonny nodded. "Yeah...and I won't lie, I've been attracted to her since the moment I saw her but living with her and learning her story...well...I couldn't help but fall in love with her. I want to take care of her, Pops – give her a family, a future...her happily ever after."

"When did you become so poetic?" Mike raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Happily ever after?"

"Em loves fairy tales," Sonny laughed. "I'm the Beast to her Beauty."

Mike started laughing just as Emily appeared in the kitchen doorway.

"Carly and Jason will be over in a few minutes...what is so funny?" She asked giving Mike an odd look.

Mike wiped tears of mirth from his eyes before walking up to her and kissing her cheek. "I think you've broken my son, sweetheart...and I can't thank you enough...please don't fix him...I like him this way."

Emily simply shot Sonny a quizzical look before he too started laughing.

Since they wanted to get it over with quickly, Sonny and Emily had decided on a December wedding. They would marry the day after Christmas at Queen of Angels Catholic Church. This left them only a few weeks to plan. Luckily, they had Carly who pretty much took control straight out of the gate. The only thing Emily was needed for was trying on dresses and tasting wedding cakes. All Sonny had to do was hand over his credit card and get fitted for a tux.

Christmas Eve found the entire Corinthos/Morgan clan gathered in his penthouse. They had just finished dinner and everyone was now gathered in the living room drinking coffee and exchanging gifts.

"Jesus, Carly!" Emily turned beat red after opening and closing a gift box so quickly that Sonny hadn't had time to get a peek at what was inside...and his girl was sitting on his lap so her swiftness was impressive. He had a feeling he would be thanking Carly for whatever was inside come their wedding night.

Carly simply laughed before looking at him, "That's my gift to you too." She smirked.

Sonny just shook his head before tossing a red envelope in his father's direction. "This is from us, Pops."

Sonny and Emily both watched to see the old man's reaction as he opened the envelope and found the cruise tickets that they had purchased for him.

"A cruise to Cuba?" He looked at them in shock.

"Yeah, since the travel sanctions were lifted a lot of cruise companies are offering packages," Sonny explained. "It was Emily's idea. She thinks you're working too hard at the diner...and I agree. Max and Milo will take over for you while you're gone." Max had actually been happy to be relieved of Carly duty for two weeks.

Mike stood from the couch and walked to the armchair they were both seated in. He gave his son a quick, one-armed hug before leaning down to kiss Emily's cheek. "Thank you, sweetheart." He hugged her.

"You're welcome, Dad," He hugged her a little bit tighter when she called him that.

"Oh, our gift to the two of you is a month off for Jason and use of my island and plane to get there and back," Sonny told Jason and Carly.

"Thanks, man." Jason nodded.

"Don't thank me, it's my gift to myself...it means at least thirty days of not having to deal with the harlot across the hall," Sonny smirked.

"Jackass," Carly rolled her eyes.

"Michael! Caroline!" Mike scolded in absolute exasperation as Jason and Emily simply laughed.

That night as Emily joined him in what was now their bed, Sonny didn't immediately move to turn off the light like he always did.

"I don't know if you noticed or not but I didn't give you your gift earlier," He opened his arms to her.

"I noticed," She snuggled up to his chest. "But I wasn't really worried about it. You're marrying me the day after tomorrow...that's the greatest gift you can give me, Sonny."

He reached over and grabbed a red envelope similar to the one that he had given his father earlier.

"What if I gave you a honeymoon?" He handed it to her.

Emily sat up to open it. Inside was a travel brochure.

"Colmar, France?"

"Yeah," He took the brochure from her hands and opened it to show her a picture of the town. "Colmar was the inspiration for Belle's hometown in Disney's Beauty and the Beast."

Setting the pamphlet aside, Emily threw her arms around his neck. "Oh my God, Sonny, I love you! This is so amazing. I can't wait!" She giggled.

"Love you too, baby." He pulled her back to lay a kiss on her lips. "Merry Christmas."

The wedding was a small, simple affair. The only people in attendance (besides the bride and groom) had been Jason, Carly, and Mike. Carly had decorated the small chapel of Queen of Angels with white roses and Emily wore a simple, but sexy long, white princess gown and veil. The happiest moment of Sonny's life had been the moment the priest had declared them man and wife. When they shared their first kiss as a married couple, it was wet...not because of passion but because of tears. When they parted, Sonny was shocked to find that not all the tears had come from his bride. A few had escaped his own eyes.

They had a small reception for their friends and Sonny's employees and associates at Club 101 before he finally managed to steal his bride away.

They cuddled and made out like teenagers (that at least Sonny wasn't) in the back of the limo and after a little bit, Emily glanced out the window and took in where they were.

"Sonny, where are we going? Our place is on the other side of town." She looked at him in confusion.

He loved how easily she referred to the penthouse as their place because it really was their place. Sonny already had a hard time imagining what life was like in Harborview Towers before Emily.

"It's a surprise." He pecked her on the lips as the limo came to a stop.

When Johnny opened the door, Sonny made sure that he was the first one out and offered his wife his hand.

Emily stepped out of the limo and got a good look at where they were.

They were standing in the driveway of a large stone mansion...that kind of resembled a nineteenth-century french castle. There was a large stone gate and the mansion was the only building in sight besides a small guest house in the back.

"Okay, I am very confused." She turned to him.

Sonny simply took her hand and led her into a house that, while beautiful, was mostly empty. He lead her through a hallway with polished wooden floors and up two flights of steps before opening a set of double wooden doors and nodding for her to enter.

When she did, she gasped. She was standing in a library that looked like it was straight out of Beauty and the Beast.

"Does my Belle approve of her library?" He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and laid his chin on her shoulder.

"My library?" She turned her head to look at him.

"Welcome home, querida." He told her as a familiar song began playing from the room's sound system.

"This place is ours?" Emily laughed in surprise and turned in his arms.

"Yep," He said as he started to sway with her to the music.

"Tale as old as time

True as it can be

Barely even friends

Then somebody bends

Unexpectedly.

Just a little change

Small to say the least

Both a little scared

Neither one prepared

Beauty and the Beast

Ever just the same

Ever a surprise

Ever as before

Ever just as sure

As the sun will rise

Tale as old as time

Tune as old as song

Bittersweet and strange

Finding you can change

Learning you were wrong

Certain as the sun

Rising in the east

Tale as old as time

Song as old as rhyme

Beauty and the Beast

Tale as old as time

Song as old as rhyme

Beauty and the Beast"

He laid a soft kiss on her lips as the song came to an end. "I love you, Emily." He kissed her forehead when they parted.

"I love you too, Sonny." She whispered looking into his eyes.

He kissed her again before pulling back, "Can I take you to bed, Mrs. Corinthos?" He asked huskily against her lips.

"I think I'd like that..."

That night, from the four-poster bed in the master suite where he lay holding his naked, sleeping wife in his arms, Sonny watched as the snow slowly began to fall outside. If anyone would have told him last Christmas that this year he would be a happily married man he would have told them to have their head checked. He didn't know why God had blessed him with his wife but he would forever cherish her. He knew he didn't deserve a happy ending but he sure wasn't going to turn his away.

"And they lived happily ever after..." He mumbled to himself before laying a kiss on a sleeping Emily's lips and holding her closer as he too joined her in the land of dreams.

FINIS