#she forcibly clams herself back up

[tamedgod]

[ TOUCH ]  for sender to trace one of receiver’s scars (genji for haru bc i'm always a sucker for this vibe)

scars

she was frozen.

as she felt his fingers brush across the scar up her cheek, she was — off her guard. her normal instinct would be to jerk back, to flinch or shy away. and, in this vein, her brain was throwing up the red flags it often did. yet — she didn't move. a freeze response had overtaken her usual flighty one, her body tensed in... fear? shame? something else? automated cat ears flick back a little in trepidation, the shock showing in her eyes for a moment before she quickly averted her gaze. it wasn't as if haru was unused to being asked about it, a scar so large and visible tended to bring out the question eventually, but —

— but she rarely ever gave the whole story.

she always told anyone who asked that it had been a training accident, a harsh lesson while learning to fight. so seldom did she ever share the reality of it, because what good would it do? she worried about being pitied, and about the perception others would form of the person who'd given it to her. she told so few because she didn't want them to know — because she didn't want to be known. and yet here she sat, stunned, feeling like... she couldn't dodge around the truth this time. it felt almost like it was being dragged out of her somehow, her heart and brain battling it out on what to say — just how much to share.

her gaze was still low as she came back to herself, the mind briefly winning out as she finally pulled away from their touch. she fixed her gaze on her burned hands, trying to quickly rebuild the parts of her wall that had been chipped away. to her chagrin, there is a visible confusion about her features as she attempts a weak smile.

"ah, um — i've had it since — since i was younger."

she's kicking herself, stumbling like this. while the two of them had gone on to become close friends, haru was still held at a good arm's length — by her own doing. this is how she'd always done things, the only people really allowed beyond her mental walls being her family, and xiao. it was easier that way. it was safer that way. but — she trusted genji. she could admit that much, even if her mind didn't like it. and so, her heart stepping forward despite her brain's heavy desire to run, she continued to speak.

"i was — a much angrier person then." 《 STOP TALKING 》 "i, um, didn't used to get along with xiao, uh, the way i — the way i do now."

she's subconsciously picking at her cuticles, battling on how best to proceed — if she should even proceed at all. she so rarely revealed xiao's name in this story in an attempt to protect him; he'd worked so hard to come as far as he had, even if others around him may not see it. knowing him as long as she had, and caring for him as she did, part of her didn't want others to think of him as who he had been when he'd done this to her. haru lets out a nervous chuckle, gaze shifting to a spot on the floor as the words continued to tumble clumsily from her mouth.

"when my dad, um, started working for the long family — xiao and i would, ah, we would f-fight a lot." 《 SILENCE 》 "he was, uh... crueler then, let's call it. i — didn't handle it... well. 《 ENOUGH 》

another pause. her heart was racing and her blood felt icy as she continued the struggle on how to go on. haru already felt like she'd said way too much — and her instincts to clam up were beginning to overrule her true feelings. it was numbing, like a blanket severely dulling her emotions as the walls finally finished reforming. she cleared her throat, before putting the best brave face on that she could, eyes finally returning to meet @lctibule's own.

"...but i got him back, and now — and now we're square." she heaved a great breath, continuing to collect herself. another meek smile, though she thought it strong, shows on her face. "you'll have to ask him to show you sometime — if he hasn't already. man can't keep a shirt on even if it would save his life."

[sweetchup]

Bi•valve

Noun

an aquatic mollusk that has a compressed body enclosed within a hinged shell, such as oysters, clams, mussels, and scallops.

AKA

The Most Common Seashell in the Ocean

————————

Vol. 1: Just Keep Swimming // Ch. 4

Type: Poseidon x reader

Word Count: 2,000+

Masterlist

————————

It is early in the morning by the time you wake up. So early that the sun hasn’t even risen over the horizon. Over the ancient city of Athens.

Even Triton is still in bed at this time. Cocooned in a thick fluffy blanket on top of Alexander The Great—The righteous name for the Stuffed King Turtle—with pillows surrounding him like a nest. It was at times like these that you wondered if Triton was part bird, perhaps the son of a harpy, rather than aquatic.

However, that was the last thing on your mind right now. Your eyes flickered down to your phone, staring at the text messages Bella had sent you last night.

—Heyyy (y/n)💕💕! Long time no see! Thanks again for helping out with the festival again ur the best. —

—Btw I heard from the rumor mill that u have a son. Why don’t u bring him along for the festival tomorrow? We can watch him quickly during ur shift and then you can have fun with him after. —

—There is also going to be cotton candy and fireworks! It will be lots of fun for the kiddo 😉😙.—

Letting out a sigh, you rub your aching temples, already feeling a headache coming on. You knew Bella meant no harm, she really is just a playful airhead at heart after all. But, it didn’t reassure the fact that it sounded like the whole school by now has found out you have a kid. Which didn’t please you in the slightest.

Especially since some of your classmates can be as toxic as snakes. You didn’t want to bring Triton anywhere around people like them.

Then again, it wasn’t like Triton couldn’t handle himself, he was more than capable after all. You found this out the hard way after he picked up a Boulder twice his size yesterday like it was nothing.

It would also be nice for the boy to have some fun for once instead of staying inside all day. Today was going to be sunny and nice out. A perfect day to play and go outside.

Decisions. Decisions.

“…Mom?”

At the call, You peel your eyes away from the screen to look over. Triton had already scurried out of his nest like bed in the corner of the living room by the time you looked up. His hair was tousled in every which way direction as he rubbed his eyes with sleepiness. A cute yawn left his lips before he finally opened his eyes. Their pale Ocean blue glory looking up at you.

“Good morning Triton.” You cooed at the young boy as he stumbled his way over to you on the couch. He practically collapses onto you, rubbing his face into your stomach for a couple of seconds before relaxing.

You chuckle as he mumbles a good morning in return, at least what you guessed to be, though it is hardly hearable.

It is silent after that for a few as you two take in the quiet morning atmosphere. The birds chirped from the window and you could even hear the soft sounds of footsteps from your neighbors above. The world was slowly waking up.

However, as much as you wanted to stay there for longer and relax, the alarm on your phone dings. A painful reminder that you should start getting ready for the festival.

Groaning, you attempt to peel Triton off of you so you could get up but the boy doesn’t budge. You attempt a couple of more times but after hearing a small giggle from said boy, you give up.

Shuffling up from your spot, you stand up but still Triton doesn’t budge. His knees drag on the ground slightly as he falls off the couch but he recovers quite quickly by using some of his powers. Making himself float effortlessly in the air as he stays latched onto you.

You let out a small sigh but don’t care to stop the boy. Instead making your way to your room so you could finally get ready.

As soon as you enter your room however, the peace doesn’t last long as after you tell him how he has to get out so you could get changed, Triton is forcibly thrown out of your room with a pout on his face.

“Mommmm!”

Triton leans against your door with a whine. Already missing your presence even though he knows it hasn’t been that long. He stares at the door handle in temptation but frowns as he knows he shouldn’t. That he should respect your privacy as you get ready.

“Mommmmmmm!”

“Triton, please! I’ll be out in a few!”

—.—.—.—.—

You wondered if you should have asked Zeus more about aquatic gods. Especially in a time like this.

“Triton… Sweetheart? I need you to let go of my leg so I can walk.”

“B-but—�� Triton stutters out, his grip on your leg tightening as the bus begins to screech to a halting stop. You weren’t sure what was up with him but he was very clingy today. He wouldn’t take no for an answer when you told him to stay home today. Forcing you to bring him along.

You seriously wondered if today was something special that was making him act so strange. Perhaps something that pertains to gods. Aquatic gods especially.

“You can hold my hand instead. I just can’t walk with you holding onto me in this long dress and sandals.”

Hesitantly, Triton lets go of your leg and grasps your hand. He seems content with this type of contact for now but you don’t know how long it could last. Especially when you start waiting tables. The last thing you need is Triton using his powers to spill hot tea onto customers.

“(Y/n)!”

“Oh, Bella.” You announce as said girl spots you in the crowd as you enter the festival.

“So nice to— Oh my, This must be your son!” Bella coos out, squatting down slightly to look at Triton who quickly hides behind you. “Such an adorable boy and… Oooo~ Look at how nice you are dressed up.”

Startled by Bella’s comment, you take a step backwards, “Huh?”

“Oh, don’t play coy with me. You are like the bell of the ball. The—“ As you and Bella bicker back and forth, you miss how Triton puffs his chest out at Bella’s previous words. He knew how beautiful you—His precious mother—looked right now.

You were wearing a white and blue thin silk-like dress, one that flowed as effortlessly as the waves of the sea. Bracelets, Choker, earrings, all of it was shining gold. Not even Apollo, god of the sun, glimmered with as much gold as you. Your makeup was flawless with your cheeks and lips dusted in a light red to add color to your face.

Honestly, in Triton’s opinion you were even more gorgeous than Aphrodite herself. Though, he would never say that out loud… you would be in trouble with the goddess if he did.

“Woah… Dude look…”

At the sudden voice, Triton looked over. A group of males were looking at you from afar. Clearly, mentally agreeing with Triton on how pretty you were. Though, it seemed as if they couldn’t bring up the courage to make their way over to greet you. Chickening out whenever you happen to even accidentally glance their way.

“You can look but you can never touch…” Triton snickered to himself, humming a small tune in content as you finally wave Bella goodbye and go on your way.

After a while of mingling in and around the crowded area, you finally make it to your section. It was thankfully easily spotted with all the decorations of colorful fish and blue fabrics that flowed throughout the air.

“Woah! It’s like we are underwater!” Triton awed as he looked up. “Mom, this is—“

“Ahhh! Is that your son (y/n)?”

“Wait, he's here?”

“Oh my!”

Startled, you two look over to your right as three of your classmates walk over. It seemed that you were correct when you thought that the rumor must have spread about the whole school by now.

“His name is Triton.” You explain to the girls as they looked down at said boy. Triton once again hid behind you but that didn’t do much as they still cooed and asked questions to him. Feeling bad for the poor boy, you decided at that moment it would be best to leave him in the back where more of the male staff was located so he would stop being ogled at. Though it would also sadly leave him out of your sight for a while. “Well, we have to get going for my shift. I will see you three later.”

“Of course!”

The girls smiled kindly at you before all at once cooing, “Bye Triton!”

“B-bye…” Triton stutters out, looking at them from around your leg quickly before hiding again.

“Ahhh so cute!”

“I know right!”

“My. I’m so jealous of—“

As you walk away, you wait a little for the girls to be enough ways away before looking down at Triton, “You're really shy today, Triton.”

Triton lets a smile whine out in detest and clutches onto your leg more, “You can’t blame me, mom. I’m not used to girls and affection from them. My old mom scared all the women away from the palace, remember?”

“True. True.”

Finally, after many obstacles—too many in yours and Triton’s opinion—you had made it to the tent. By the time you had got there, it was already bustling full of customers and you knew you had to hurry.

“Now this way, Triton.” You tell the young boy as you bring him to a seperate tent. Being careful not to bump into the other waiters or chefs as you lead Triton to an area in the corner with the supplies. “Mom has to wait tables for now so I need you to stay right here alright. I’ll be back soon, if you get hungry you can ask Jeremy or Paul for food.”

At the sound of their names, two of the chefs look over and wave.

“But mom…” Triton whines, upset that he has to let you go, “…Can’t you stay.”

“I’m sorry but I can’t. It will just be an hour until the actual waitress I’m covering for arrives. Then you have me for the rest of the day alright?”

Triton’s face looks unsure. Still not completely content with letting you go just yet.

“Don’t worry little man.” Triton jumps a little as Paul pats the top of his head, “Your mom won’t be gone for long. In the meantime, I know how to pass the time real fast. I can teach you how to make a mean sundae.”

“R-Really?” Triton questions out, looking worriedly back and forth between you and the male. Seeming to be struggling to fight against taking the bargain the man has given him.

“Of course, you won’t even notice time has even passed by the time mom picks you up. Now, what do you like in your sundaes?”

As Paul takes Triton away, you mouth a small thank you to your classmate before giving Triton a wave goodbye. Just as you are about to turn to walk a way, you feel a hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t worry (y/n). I’ll make sure to watch your son while you are gone.” Jeremy says, shaking his head in discontent as he remembers, “I saw how those girls were harassing the poor boy earlier.”

“Thank you so much. I promise I’ll be quick.”

“Of course don’t worry about it.”

As you leave the tent, you give Triton one last look goodbye. He wasn’t looking at you at the time as he was much to busy scooping huge chunks of oreo ice cream into his bowl. Concentrating to make sure they were stacked perfectly on top of each other.

You felt a sting of worry and doubt bubble up in your stomach as you continued to stare at Triton. Unsure if it was okay to leave him like that. But, you quickly push it away, once you see Paul right behind him. Close by to help him if needed.

Triton will be okay.

Triton will be okay.

Okay.

That’s what you kept telling yourself.

But, little did you know,…

…that wasn’t the case.

Author Note: I hope everyone enjoys this chapter. I’m sorry I left it on a cliffhanger though lol. I didn’t mean to, it just worked to break up chapter 4 and chapter 5 at this point. Anyways, other things. I’m going on vacation with my extended family next week 🎉. But don’t worry, I am going to spend tomorrow and Friday writings so you will stay have chapter 5 and 6 for next week, don’t worry :)). It’s also fitting since I’m going to the beach, Poseidon I’ll see you there 🤣🤣.

Taglist: @angeli-fucking-cat @marixxhq @sproutcorner @orophaea

[marjansmarwani]

in the hope of open hands

8.5k || ao3

Vignettes of Nancy and Marjan through season two as their friendship grows stronger and turns into something more.

Here it is, the Nancy/Marjan fic I have been threatening for ages, just in time for @bellakitse‘s birthday. Happy birthday Stef! I hope you had a wonderful one, that you enjoy this bit of Nancy/Marjan softness, and that you know how much I appreciate you 💕

This is my first time writing these two and I sincerely hope I did them justice. I love them both though, so I hope that counts for something. 

--------------

Michelle leaving wasn’t as shocking as it probably should have been.

But after everything that had happened - starting with a solar storm and wrapping around a worldwide pandemic - the paramedic captain putting in her two week notice was barely a blip in the grand scheme of things. Yes it would mean a change in the firehouse dynamics, yes it would mean that Nancy and Tim would have to adjust to someone new. But Marjan respected Michelle for making the decision she had - it wasn’t an easy thing to do to walk away from everything you knew and take a risk.

Which is why when Tim started on his latest round of complaining (it was so familiar she could almost trace the argument at this point) she responded in kind. She meant what she said - she admired her for making the choice, more than she could say. For all her bravado and daring in the field, she hadn’t taken too many gambles in her personal life. Yes, moving to Austin had been a risk, but it had been a calculated one. In everything else; friendship, romance, she couldn’t say the same. Marjan loved the adrenaline rush of a thrill, she hated the uncertainty of a new choice.

Nancy, at least, agreed with her.

“What a monster,” she concluded sarcastically after she listed off all the personal sacrifices Michelle had made, throwing a grin in Marjan’s direction as she finished. Marjan returned it without hesitation, their eyes meeting as Tim threw up his hands in frustration. It was becoming a familiar rhythm between them. Maybe it was the pandemic forcing them to find companionship within their everyday circles, maybe it was simply them realizing that as much as they loved their teammates, the women of the 126 needed to stick together.

Whatever it was, Marjan was glad for it. They had just started getting to know each other and before she knew it, Nancy Gillian was her friend. She could very easily become a close one too, Marjan thought, given time. Time she knew that she was willing to give.

----------

Marjan was swiping through the pictures she had just taken when she felt a familiar presence at her shoulder.

“Those are great,” Nancy said with a grin Marjan could hear even with her back to the other woman, “you’ll have to send those to me.”

“As long as you give me credit Gillian, a lot of time and effort went into these you know!”

She knew her friend was rolling her eyes even before she had fully turned around but when she got a look at her face she was not disappointed. She grinned cheekily at the paramedic before their attention was drawn to the kitchen by a loud and bright laugh from Grace. They turned to see her leaning back in her seat, one hand on Captain Vega’s shoulder and the other covering her mouth. Marjan smiled at the sight before tilting her head in their direction, “How are things going with Captain Vega? She seems like a badass.”

“She is,” Nancy confirmed, “it’s kind of awesome.”

There was admiration in her tone, but something else too.

“But?” Marjan prompted, turning her back on Captain Vega and Grace to give Nancy her full attention.

Nancy sighed, “I don’t know. It’s just been weird. Michelle was never warm and fuzzy, but we knew her. Captain Vega is...different.”

“You’ll get to know her too,” Marjan reminded her, “in time.”

“Yeah,” Nancy agreed with another glance towards her Captain, “I guess.”

“Well I know,” Marjan told her firmly. “You just need to give it time.”

Nancy smiled at her gratefully and Marjan felt a warmth of affection rush through her. “Hey,” she said after a minute, “the only downside of flaunting my superior photography skills is that I’m not in any of the pictures. Take a selfie with me?”

“Who can say no to Firefox?” Nancy quipped, but leaned down so that she was next to Marjan as she raised her camera. They both beamed at the camera as Marjan tapped the shutter button. When they were done she pulled the phone closer to look at the result. Their smiles shone just as brightly on her phone and Marjan grinned at it. She added a heart emoji for her story, but not before she downloaded a copy.

This, she decided, was a moment she wanted to remember. The beginning of better times to come, she was sure.

--------

“Why did we leave him? We wouldn’t have done that if it were anyone else!”

If it were one of you is left unsaid, but filled the spaces between them all the same.

Captain Strand reminded them it was all strictly protocol and Marjan knows he’s right but she can’t help but wonder too. She can’t help but look down at where her hand is resting on TK’s shoulder. It wasn’t all that long ago that they had almost lost him on a call. If the worst had happened, would they have left? Or would they have stayed; giving protocol the finger because that’s what you did for family.

Logically she knows the two situations were worlds away from each other. TK’s had been a freak accident in an otherwise controllable environment. The scene at the pool hadn’t been safe. There had been lava and fire everywhere; they had been ordered to abandon their recovery efforts for civilians too when the worst of it had happened. They had grabbed any survivors and they had left before the body count rose anymore. She knew it was for the best, she knew it was protocol.

That didn’t make looking at Nancy’s broken expression any less painful.

But she didn’t know what to say. What could she say to make the loss of her partner hurt less? Marjan had a team and she knew that if she lost any one of them she would lose a piece of her heart with them. Nancy and Tim had only had each other. They had had each other for so long and through so much and Marjan knew there was no way she could possibly fathom the loss that Nancy had just experienced. So instead of going to her as a friend probably should when Paul offered to spar with her she accepted eagerly. She used the punching bag as a target for her anger, for her fear. She was angry that Tim’s life had been cut short when all he had ever done was help people. She was angry Nancy had to face this. She was afraid of how this might affect her friend; she was afraid of finding herself in a similar spot someday.

But eventually the workout was over and she and Paul parted ways. She felt lighter as she stepped into the women's locker room, but not better. There was still a heaviness within her and she had a feeling it would be with her for a while. She crossed to her locker and dropped her bag onto the ground before sinking onto the bench with a weary sigh. She was just debating whether it was worth it to change at all or to simply go home in her workout clothes when she heard the sound of sniffling from beyond the row of lockers. She frowned as she stood up, stepping quietly around them until she came to a halt at the sight of the scene before her.

Nancy was on the wide bench by the showers, her feet up on the bench before her and her knees pulled up to her chin. She was sobbing; quietly but unmistakably. Marjan felt her heart break all over again as she quietly approached.

“Nance?” she asked softly as she drew closer, not wanting to startle her friend. Nancy’s face shot up and her eyes went wide at the sight of the other woman. She reached up a hand to wipe away the tears that were still rolling down her face, but Marjan shook her head.

“You don’t have to stop,” she told her as she carefully settled onto the bench beside her. “It’s okay to feel this, and let it out. And I’m not going anywhere, Nance,” she added after a moment, certainty filling her voice. “You’re not facing this alone.”

And with that, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around the other woman - tentatively at first but she tightened her hold as Nancy leaned into her. They stayed there, on the bench in the locker room as Nancy cried in Marjan’s arms, attempting to let all the fear and pain and grief inside out before it ate her alive.

And as they sat there Marjan made up her mind. She would be there for Nancy for whatever she needed for as long as she needed it. She was not about to let someone she cared about so much face this on their own.

--------

Marjan found a quiet corner and settled onto the edge of a picnic table before pulling out her phone. She took a deep breath before she dialed, tapping Nancy’s name in her phone as she did. Her mind wandered as it rang and she half hoped the other woman didn’t pick up.

“Hello?” Nancy’s voice sounded in her ear and Marjan’s heart ached at how thick it sounded.

“Hey Nance,” she said softly, “I just wanted to call and check-in, see how you’re holding up.”

There was a pause in which Marjan was certain she heard a sniffle, “I’m fine,” Nancy said but Marjan knew her well enough to know that she was lying.

She also knew that if she pushed it she would clam up, so she changed tactics instead, “We’re all thinking about you. I wish we could have been there for you.”

The truth of I wish I could have been there for you floated between them unsaid.

“It’s not like you guys have any control over the wildfires,” Nancy said eventually, her voice a little stronger. “I don’t think I can hold that against you. Besides,” she added, her voice shifting again, “you shouldn’t be worrying about me. You should be focusing on staying safe. We don’t need any more funerals.”

Marjan knew what Nancy was doing because humor was a shield that she lived behind as well. But there was a waver in her voice and Marjan was suddenly forcibly reminded that this was not Nancy’s first time at a co-worker’s memorial service. The old 126 may not have been her partner, but they had been her friends and now with Michelle following her heart and Tim in the ground, every connection Nancy had to the time before the tragedy was gone, save for Judd.

“Well you don’t need to worry about us either,” she assured her. “We’re keeping it all by the book, strictly playing by the rules.”

“Yeah well, we’ll see how long that lasts,” Nancy retorted with a snort and Marjan swore she could practically hear her roll her eyes even over the less than stellar cell connection. “This is the 126 we’re talking about, after all. It’s only a matter of time before someone pulls some crazy stunt. Personally, my money is on you or Strand.”

“I resent that!” Marjan exclaimed indignantly, but the relief of hearing Nancy’s laughter on the other end firmly proved that to be false. She let the sound wrap around her, savoring every second of it before she spoke again.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Nance?”

“I am,” Nancy replied, “this sucks, a lot. But everyday it hurts a little less. And Captain Vega has been great, we’ve gotten a lot closer.”

“I’m glad,” Marjan replied, “I think you two will make a formidable team.”

“We can’t have a team of two though,” Nancy reminded her, “we’re going to need to replace...to hire a third eventually.”

“Eventually,” Marjan agreed, “but not yet. You have some time, don’t worry about it yet.”

There was silence after that. They sat on the line together, each lost in their own thoughts, anchored to the present only by the sound of the other’s breaths. Eventually it was Nancy that broke the silence.

“Thanks Marj, for checking in. It means a lot.”

“Of course,” Marjan replies without hesitation, “I wish I could do more.”

“It’s enough,” Nancy assured her, “it’s more than enough.”

The silence returned again but it was a comfortable silence. It was comfort amongst the chaos they were both separately facing, a safe harbor to return to. But it was shattered all too soon as Commander DeLeon called for the troops to gather.

“Nancy, I’ve gotta go.”

“Yeah,” the paramedic said, “of course. Stay safe Marj.”

And with that she ended the call and Marjan was left with a smile as she joined her team for the latest briefing.

----------

“I hear you have a visitor.”

Nancy’s words pulled Marjan from her stupor and wrenched her attention from where she had been studiously stirring her tea.

“The guys told you?”

“About four minutes after I got here today. Those boys can’t keep a secret for shit.”

Marjan rolled her eyes at that, “It’s not a secret it just...never came up.”

“What, you mean there was never a time to say, ‘Hey guys, guess what? I’m engaged’?”

“And how do you think that would have gone over?”

“Probably better than meeting him by surprise outside the roller derby rink did.”

Marjan had to concede that point, at least.

“I wasn’t trying to keep him a secret,” she explained. “I guess I never really thought about it. It’s just been a part of my life for so long that I barely even think about it most of the time. And that is so separate in my head from my life here and I just...never thought of sharing it.”

Nancy didn’t say anything right away and when Marjan looked up at her it was clear that she was on the verge of saying something, but not sure if she wanted to. She waited for a few more moments before Nancy noticed her watching and gave her a smile that was tighter than her usual.

“That makes sense, I guess. It must be nice to see him after so long.”

“Yeah”, Marjan agreed, “it is.”

The smile Nancy gave her this time was more genuine, much more like herself. “I hope you enjoy his visit then,” she said before she jabbed her thumb in the direction of the ambulance bay. “I have to go take care of inventory, but we’ll take more later, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Marjan agreed, watching in confusion as Nancy walked away.

----------

All her life, Marjan had had a plan.

Now, in just one day and two conversations, that plan had been dismantled and for the first time, Marjan was facing an uncertain future. It terrified her.

She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to handle this. She knew she had made the right choice. She cared for Salim — she always had — and the fact that at some point, unbeknownst to her, she had to come to love him didn’t change anything. She was well aware that she had been the one to make this mess; but that didn’t change the end result. Salim had fallen for someone else. He had made his choice and Marjan refused to be the reason someone else got hurt. She refused to spend the rest of her life with someone she couldn’t trust; with someone who didn’t honor their commitments. That mattered to her — enough to upend her entire future, apparently.

The worst part was that she wasn’t even sure she could blame Salim. Or even their parents, for that matter. She didn’t think it was the fault of any one person; it was just something that had happened with time. They had been so young when this had all been decided, years before they had realized who they were. It had never bothered her, the idea of it. It had been comforting knowing that no matter what, she knew what the future was going to bring. She had been free to make her choices and follow her passions knowing that no matter what she had a future with Salim. She had never considered another possibility.

But now she was faced with a whole world of other possibilities and she didn’t know what to do with it. She had never really thought of the concept of romance before; she had never taken the time to consider who she found attractive. She had never seen the point, given everything. Maybe she should find it thrilling (and a small, distant part of her did) but mostly, she found it terrifying. She didn’t know what to do next.

Her pondering was interrupted by the sound of a knock at her door. She frowned, rising from the couch and approached it with trepidation. The list of people who came to visit her at home was very short, but she supposed it could be any member of her team. It could just as well be Salim, but she couldn’t fathom what he could possibly want.

She peered into the peephole, not sure what to expect, but pulled away with a smile and opened the door to reveal Nancy Gillian on her threshold, holding a bag.

“I’m not sure what kind of breakup category this falls under exactly,” she stated without prompting, “but I brought tea if it’s a ranting type and ice cream in case it’s the wallowing type. Either way, we’re ordering chinese.”

And despite it all, Marjan smiled. The first real genuine smile she had since that night at the hotel. “I think it’s a bit of both,” she replied as she stepped aside to allow the other woman entrance.

“Then we better get started,” Nancy quipped as she took the silent invitation. “We have a lot of ground to cover.”

---------

With Nancy out on medical due to her broken foot Marjan had taken it upon herself to make sure the other woman was fed and kept up on the happenings at the station. So it was a Monday evening that Marjan found herself in Nancy’s kitchen, stocking the fridge with the groceries she had brought and giving her a play by play of the minefield incident. She had already gotten the basics from Captain Vega, but while her captain’s version had been professional and to the point, Marjan’s was a lot more colorful and action packed. When she had described Reese refusing to enter the minefield Nancy had thumped a hand against the counter.

“See,” she had exclaimed, “I knew he was too good to be true!”

Marjan chuckled, but trailed off as another thought entered her head, “Would you have gone if you had been there?”

“Yeah,” Nancy replied with a shrug, “it’s not on my top ten list of things to do and frankly I’d rather not, but those boys needed help. And that’s what we do.”

And Marjan was surprised by the feeling of relief that washed over her at those words. Not relief that Nancy would have done the right things — of that Marjan had no doubt — but relief that she hadn’t been there, that she hadn’t had the chance.

Relief that she was safe, that she hadn’t taken that risk.

It was stupid and Marjan knew it. Taking risks was their business, it couldn’t be avoided and it was what they had all signed up for. But the idea of Nancy taking that risk, of Nancy putting herself in such tangible danger left her with a feeling of dread she couldn’t shake.

She didn’t know what to say next but she was saved the trouble by the sound of Nancy’s phone ringing and her excusing herself to answer it. Marjan was left to continue to ponder these thoughts as she waited for the phone call to end.

“That was Captain Vega,” Nancy announced as she hobbled back into the kitchen, setting her phone back down on the counter. “She just called to tell me that she offered TK the position, and he accepted.”

“That’s good, right?” Marjan asked as Nancy slid back into her previous seat at the counter. “Having someone you already know filling the spot? It has to take away a lot of the uncertainty.”

“It does,” Nancy admitted, “but it’ll still be an adjustment.”

She trailed off and Marjan paused in putting away the groceries she had brought over. She crossed over to the counter and leaned on it, facing the other women and giving her a beseeching look. “And?” she prompted.

Nancy looked down at her hands on the counter as she replied, voice soft, “And filling the position with someone who will stick feels like it’s official. That Tim is really gone and we’re really moving on now.”

And Marjan didn’t know what to say to that. She had never lost someone like that. She had never experienced losing one of the people closest to you, having them ripped away without warning and being expected to carry on as normal because that was the job. She didn’t know what to say to make that better.

“You are moving on,” she finally settled on, “because that’s what you need to do. That doesn’t mean you’ve forgotten Tim. Getting a new partner does not replace the memories you have of the old one.”

“I know that,” Nancy replied, not meeting her eyes, “it just feels like he’s being forgotten. He doesn’t deserve that.”

Marjan reached across the counter to tap Nancy’s arm, “Hey,” she said, “he’s not forgotten because you will always remember him. And so will I,” she promised. “He’s not going to be forgotten.”

She allowed her words to settle around them, lending weight to her oath. The smile Nancy gave her in response was frail, but it warmed Marjan’s heart to see it. She patted her arm one more time before she stepped away from the counter, returning to the groceries at hand. She knew that she couldn’t possibly imagine what Nancy was going through, but she knew that she would be there for her every step of the way.

That’s what you did for a friend, after all.

------------

“And then he told me to ‘live in it’ for a bit. Like, dude, what the fuck does that even mean?”

Marjan did her best not to audibly chuckle as she turned back to the living room with two mugs in her hand. Nancy was sprawled across her couch and fifteen minutes into a tirade about TK with no signs of stopping anytime soon. She accepted the tea from Marjan with a nod but continued on without missing a beat.

She was going on about the dangers of improperly arranged needles as Marjan settled into the chair across from her, tucking her feet underneath her and hiding her smile with her mug as she took a sip. Her attempts to hide her amusement are unsuccessful and Nancy finally stopped long enough to give her a glare.

“I am so glad me getting replaced on my own team is amusing to you, Marwani.”

Marjan rolled her eyes before setting down her mug. “Nance,” she said evenly, “you are not being replaced.”

“How can you say that?” Nancy questioned incredulously. “You saw them today. They are a perfectly well-oiled team. All I’m doing is getting in the way.”

“Nancy,” Marjan repeated, more firmly this time, “you are not getting in the way. You are an excellent paramedic, and they both know that. But your team has a new member now, and things are going to be different. It’s going to take some time to adjust, but you will.”

Nancy held her gaze for another moment before she looked away with a deep sigh. “I don’t know how to adjust to this,” she said softly. “Tim was my partner for so long. I’m not saying TK is a bad paramedic or that he’s a bad person he’s just…”

“He’s not Tim,” Marjan finished, her heart aching for the other woman as she nodded and blinked against the tears that had gathered in her eyes at the reminder. Marjan leaned forward in her seat, closing the distance between them as much as she dared. “Nancy, TK will never replace Tim. He can’t because he is someone different. You’re going to form a relationship with him too and it’s going to be different. That’s okay. It’s all part of moving forward.”

Nancy was quiet for several moments before she sighed and flopped back onto the couch dramatically, “Moving forward sucks.”

Marjan couldn’t hide the laugh that burst from her at that. “Yeah, it can,” she agreed. “If it’s any consolation though, I can almost guarantee that TK is feeling just as weird about this as you are. And if I know him, he’s going to try to find a way to fix it. And if he doesn’t, I can also guarantee that I will kick his ass, for you.”

That at least pulled a smile out from the other woman and Marjan returned it, savoring the warmth that rushed through her chest at the sight of it.

“Thanks Marj,” Nancy said eventually. “For being here, for listening. I know this is probably weird, I mean he’s your friend and here I am trash talking him…”

“Hey,” Marjan interjected, “none of that now. Yes, TK is my friend, but he’s not the only one. You are my friend too Nancy, and I will be here as long as you need to rant about this or whatever else you need to do. You’ve been there for me, let me be there for you.”

---------

TK had come through just as Marjan had known he would and, even though she had to admit she hadn’t seen it coming, turning the ambulance into a memorial seemed a perfectly fitting tribute. A way to make sure that Tim was truly never forgotten, that he was always with them.

When Nancy arrived Marjan met her eyes. She greeted her with the others but held her gaze a moment longer, silently communicating with the other woman. She didn’t want to steal TK’s thunder but she wanted her to know that everything was okay, that things were looking up. And when TK said his piece and revealed the painted memorial and tears gathered in Nancy’s eyes, Marjan could feel matching ones in her own eyes as well.

They go back to Nancy’s place after that, just the two of them. There were offers for a whole group hang but Marjan could tell that Nancy wasn’t feeling up to that just yet. So when she politely declined she found Marjan waiting by her car, an eyebrow raised.

“What,” she asked, “you didn’t think you were getting rid of me that easily, did you?”

And so here they were now - mugs of tea on the coffee table before them while a cheesy sci-fi flick played out on the screen before them. They sat in comfortable silence, both content to simply exist in the other's presence for a while, until Nancy broke the silence.

“Thank you,” she said eventually, pulling Marjan’s attention away from the movie.

“For what?” she asked with a frown.

“For being here. For having been here this entire time. I...I wasn’t sure if I would ever have someone be there for me like this again. Not after Tim.”

“Nancy, you don’t need to…”

“No, I do Marj. Just, hear me out?”

Marjan nodded and twisted her body so she was facing the other woman, watching as she took a deep breath.

“These past few months,” Nancy started, “have been awful. This process of grieving and recovering has been a long one and as much as it has sucked for me, I can’t imagine it was all that fun to be around either. But you have been there for me the entire time, in every single way. You’ve become someone I rely on and I just, needed you to know that.”

WIth that she stopped speaking and they were left once again in silence. Marjan was floored by the statement. It wasn’t that she hadn’t known that she and Nancy were close, but hearing it laid out like that, knowing how much it had mattered to her put it all in a new light. But something Nancy had said bothered her. She leaned forward to place a hand on her knee, holding her gaze as she spoke.

“You are never a burden, Nance. Whatever you’re feeling, whatever the situation, I will always be there for you. It was never a hardship and it never will be. You’re very important to me too, you know.”

The smile Nancy gave her in return was soft and bright and when she shifted closer closing the distance between them as she turned back to the movie, Marjan let it happen. And if when she readjusted her seat she sank even closer to Nancy, the warmth of her body pulling her closer, that was fine too.

-------------

Marjan is no stranger to fear, but she’s never quite felt a fear like this one before.

When Judd called her to let her know that the 126 paramedic team and ambulance was missing, her first thought wasn't for TK. She loves him like a brother and she wanted nothing more than for him to be okay, but he wasn’t not her first thought.

Her first thought was Nancy.

It’s her name that drives the fear, the thought of never hearing her laugh again that steals her breath. It’s her smile and her warm, brown eyes that she is holding desperately in her memories, hoping she will have a chance to see them again.

And when they get the call that they were found and that TK is hurt but the other two are fine, Marjan can finally breathe again.

She was in her car heading to the hospital before she could even think, pulling in and entering the building with barely a thought and absolutely no plan. She was hovering in the emergency room entrance, trying to figure out her next step when she spotted a familiar figure across the room.

“Carlos!” she called and strode towards him. He looked up, startled, but his expression evened when he spotted her.

“Marj, hey,” he said, and he looked like a wreck. She stepped closer, peering at him with concern and allowing another fear to enter her mind for the first time.

“How’s TK? I heard he was hurt…”

“Yeah,” Carlos agreed grimly, “he has a pretty nasty head injury. He’s getting some scans and tests done now so we’ll know soon, I just stepped out to call my mom back. Captain Strand is in the waiting room upstairs though if you want to go up.”

“Oh,” she said, surprised and not sure how to respond, “actually I…”

She trailed off but Carlos gave her a calculating look before he smiled and spoke again, “Nancy is upstairs too. She’s okay, not a scratch on her.”

Marjan couldn’t even be bothered to try and hide the relief she felt at that. She could feel some of the tension leave her body as Carlos chuckled softly, shaking his head, “I was wondering when you’d figure it out.”

She opened her mouth to make a retort but found that she couldn’t even find the words. There is too much else in her head right now. But Carlos was still grinning that knowing grin at her and she couldn’t let him off easy, “TK has been a bad influence on you, Reyes.”

She’s known Carlos long enough to know that this is where he would usually fire back some clever retort. He doesn’t, but his expression softens at the mention of his boyfriend and he glances back towards the elevator that separates them. “I should go make this phone call,” he said instead. “I don’t want to be gone too long. Nancy is in one of the waiting rooms, second door on your left once you get off the elevator, 4th floor.”

Marjan nodded her thanks and reached out to give his arm a comforting squeeze before he walked away. “They’re safe Carlos,” she tells him, “it’s going to be okay.”

He smiled at her again before he turned and walked away and as she waits for the elevator she is left to wonder who those words were really for. She’s left to ponder that on the ride up, which seems to last so much longer than the four floors. Her heart was racing in her chest as she stepped out onto the correct floor, her feet following Carlos’s directions without much input from her mind. She was hardly breathing as she reached the correct door, but when she stepped across the threshold she could feel it all fall away at the sight of Nancy - unhurt and very much alive.

She is sitting in a chair off to the corner, staring out the dark window so intently she didn’t even hear Marjan enter. She didn't notice until Marjan paused a few steps from her and softly said her name. It’s only then that she turns from the window to see Marjan standing before her, and her breath catches.

“Marj, what are you doing here?”

Marjan stares at her for a moment before she splutters out a response. “What am I doing here?” she repeats indignantly. “Nancy, you were kidnapped and held hostage. Where else would I be?”

They stare at each other in silence for a few more moments before Nancy reaches for her and Marjan meets her in a heartbeat, sinking into the chair next to her and pulling her into her arms.

“I’m so sorry this happened,” she said into Nancy’s shoulder as she clutched her tightly. “Are you okay?”

“I wasn’t the one hurt,” Nancy replied softly, and Marjan hugged her even tighter.

“Just because you’re not hurt doesn’t mean you’re okay,” she reminded her softly. “Whatever you’re feeling now, it’s okay.”

There was silence for a few more moments before Nancy spoke again, voice so soft Marjan barely heard it, even being as close as they were.

“I was so scared,” she admitted. “I thought we were all going to die. For a while I thought I had lost another partner and now...I don’t know where to go from here.”

Marjan’s heart broke at the sound of the pain and fear still in her voice. She didn’t know what to say, so she settled for rubbing a soothing circle on her back.

“You’re all safe,” she said eventually, “and that’s what matters. Everything else we’ll figure out in time.”

The only response she got to that was a soft sniffle and Marjan couldn’t help the way her arms tightened around the other woman at the sound. She knew this would be hard, she knew there was not magic switch to throw to make it all better. She knew it would take time.

But she also knew that Tommy was unharmed and home with her family, that TK would be okay, and that Nancy was here and whole and in her arms. From this point, they could face anything. And none of them would do it alone. Tommy had Charles and her girls, TK had Carlos and Nancy, well...

“I’m not going anywhere,” Marjan reminded her softly, speaking the words into her hair and allowing them to fill this bubble they had formed. Maybe there were things to handle and people to call, but for now they had each other and that was more than enough.

------------

The next few weeks are mostly spent together. There are shifts and calls and the Ryder’s accident but almost every moment in between, Marjan realizes, she has spent with Nancy.

She is a shoulder to lean on as Nancy copes with the kidnapping but Marjan would be lying if she said she didn’t find their time spent together just as soothing. The fear that came with the idea of Nancy in danger is never far from her mind in those first few weeks. Then they lean on each other when faced with the fear and possibility of losing Judd and Grace. They celebrate the joy of their survival and their news together too, just as they do most everything these days.

Soon enough that is behind them though and even without a trauma to cope with Marjan still finds herself in the other woman’s company more often than not. She also finds that she doesn’t mind it, and that often she is the one seeking it out. Somehow Nancy Gillian became her closest friend when she wasn’t looking but Marjan can’t say she is too upset by that. There are far worse things to have stumbled into, she thinks.

After all nothing involving Nancy Gillian can be anything even remotely short of good, in her opinion.

------------

Marjan let herself into her apartment, Nancy on her heels.

“Marj,” she tries again, “it doesn’t matter what they think.”

“No, it doesn’t,” she agrees, “but it does matter what McKenna thinks. She thinks her husband dying was my fault, Nancy. What if she’s right? What if I had been able to save him if I had been just that much quicker? All I needed to save him was another thirty seconds. How long do you think that exchange on the overpass took?”

“Marjan,” Nancy said again, firmly this time, “don’t do that. You know as well as I do that asking those kinds of questions doesn’t do any good. If you start dwelling on that kind of stuff it’ll mess with your head and you can’t have that. What happened was awful and I am so sorry, but you need to move forward. It’s the only thing you can do.”

Marjan stepped away from her, wrapping her arms around her body. “I know that,” she admitted, voice thick, “but that doesn’t make it any better. He died, Nance. He died right in front of me because I wasn’t quick enough to save him. No amount of logic in the world is going to change how I feel about that.”

She could feel the tears starting to form and she went to turn away from her friend. But in the next moment arms wrapped around her, preventing her from straying any further.

“It’s okay to feel it,” Nancy told her gently. “You can cry, I’m not going anywhere.”

Marjan wanted to tell her that she was fine, that she could handle this on her own. But when she looked up to say as much and her eyes met Nancy’s, her resolve crumbled. Before she knew it she had dissolved into sobs, soaking the material of Nancy’s shirt as she held her gently, murmuring soothing words into her hair.

She knew this wasn’t a permanent solution, she knew there was still more she would have to do to move on from this. But in this moment and the safety of Nancy’s arms, she let it all come out.

---------

“I can’t believe it,” Nancy said as she and Marjan stepped into her apartment, flicking on the kitchen lights to chase away the early dawn darkness. “Can you even imagine, your entire life, gone just like that.”

“Not their lives,” Marjan reminded her as she set down her purse and leaned wearily against the counter, “alhamdulillah.”

“I know,” Nancy continued, “and I know in the grand scheme of things they were so lucky and I am beyond grateful that they’re okay but...this is going to be so much to move on from. I can’t even begin to fathom that.”

“Me neither,” Marjan admitted. “But they’ll be okay. They have each other, and they have us.”

“Us, huh?”

Marjan looked up sharply to see Nancy looking at her, a small smile on her face.

“Yeah, you know — the 126. We’ll all be there for them.”

“Yeah, of course,” Nancy agreed hurriedly, looking away from her. It took Marjan all of three more seconds to realize what Nancy had meant and she cursed herself. This past day had been something, and her brain was fried. But she needed to address this, Nancy needed to know.

“I suppose that’s not the only ‘us’ though,” she hedged as she stepped closer. “I like them all an awful lot, but I can’t say I feel the same way about them as I do about you.”

“Oh?” Nancy asked and though her voice was purposefully casual, Marjan could see the hope in her eyes.

“I’ve come to care about you an awful lot,” she admits. “And, I don’t have a lot of experience with feelings like this, but I don’t think they are strictly friendly ones.”

Nancy was quiet for a second before she spoke again, “So either you're asking to be my arch nemesis or…”

Marjan rolled her eyes. “You are such a dork, I can’t believe I like you.”

“You like me?” Nancy replied quickly. “As in, you like me, like me?”

Marjan stepped closer, leaving barely an inch between them now. She could see every fleck of color in Nancy’s eyes, and it affected her in a way she had never quite experienced before.  

“I like you, like you, Nancy Gillian,” she said clearly, not wanting to beat around the bush. There was a time for being quippy and fun, and then there was this. She wasn’t willing to leave this to chance. She reached her hand across the small distance between them and found Nancy’s, tangling her fingers with her own. When she felt a squeeze in response, she smiled, leaning forward and resting her head against Nancy’s shoulder.

They stayed like that, wrapped in each other in Marjan’s kitchen for a time she couldn’t quantify, but she savored every second that passed. Eventually Nancy broke the silence as she glanced out the window above the sink.

“It’s late, or early, I guess. I should go.”

Marjan stepped back, just enough to see Nancy’s eyes again, still clutching her hand with her own.

“Stay?” she asked. Nancy hesitated for a moment and Marjan pressed on, “It doesn’t have to be like that just...stay?”

The early morning silence drifted through the kitchen as Marjan studied Nancy. Then Nancy smiled at her and Marjan swore she felt her heart swell three sizes. She used their linked hands to pull them out of the kitchen and towards something new.

------------

The next morning Marjan woke up to find that she was not alone.

She smiled at the sight of Nancy beside her, still sleeping soundly. She shifted to try and get a better view of the marvel beside but her motions caused the other woman to stir and soon she was greeted with the equally wonderful sight of Nancy’s tired eyes blinking at her.

“Good morning,” she said softly, not wanting to startle her.

“Morning,” Nancy murmured less gracefully, a yawn jutting its way through her words, “what time is it?”

Marjan shrugged, “Not sure. Doesn’t matter though - it’s not like we have a fire station to go to work in.”

Nancy huffed a dry laugh as she shifted so she was on her side, facing Marjan. “You know until you said something I thought that maybe all that was a dream. Actually, until you said something, I thought this was a dream. It still might be, come to think of it.”

Marjan rolled her eyes and leaned over to press a soft kiss to Nancy’s forehead. “Does that feel like a dream?” she asked.

“Actually, yes, if I’m being honest.” Nancy replied and Marjan scoffed, reaching over to pinch the other woman’s arm. She yelped in surprise but Marjan only raised an eyebrow.

“Still think you’re dreaming?” she asked.

“No,” Nancy replied, “but I am starting to wonder if this mean side of you is a normal morning thing.”

“I don’t know,” Marjan said with a shrug, scotting closer to Nancy as she lay back down, “I guess you’ll have to stick around to find out.”

------------

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take!”

“Nance,” Marjan admonished, “stop being so dramatic. It’s fine!”

Nancy shifted so she was facing her. “It is not fine, Marj! I hate this. Not getting to see you at work is one thing, but not knowing where you’ll be working or if you’ll have a good team to watch your back? Your team is a collective pain in my ass at times, but I trust them. But now I’m just supposed to be okay with you doing what you do not knowing who is there to back you up? I’m not.”

Marjan rolled her eyes but she had to admit that the clear concern the paramedic had for her softened the gesture considerably. “Think about it this way,” she said instead, moving closer and running a hand up her arm as she spoke, “we’ve already survived numerous natural disasters and cataclysmic events. What more could there be?”

“I think that’s called tempting fate.”

“I think it’s called logic,” Marjan countered. “Hey,” she added when Nancy’s expression didn’t lighten, reaching out to twine their fingers together, “nothing is going to change. We’re still us, no matter what stations we’re working from.”

“You can’t say that,” Nancy argued softly, “because everything already has. And after everything...I couldn’t handle losing you too.”

While the concern still touched her, the fear in Nancy’s voice bore into her chest like a dull knife. “I can’t promise anything,” she said eventually, “you know that. Neither of us can make that promise because neither of us can guarantee that we’ll be able to keep it. But I can promise that I will do my best to come back to you every single day, no matter what.”

“I know that,” Nancy assured her softly, “I just can’t help but worry.”

Marjan leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek, moved by the weight of her affection for her. “I know that because I feel the same way. But I’ll be fine, Nance. We’ll both be, you’ll see.”

------------

“What was that you were saying last night?” Nancy said to her as she opened her apartment door to let her in. “I believe it was something along the lines of ‘what more could there be?’ How does it feel to have tempted the gods, Marwani.”

Marjan scoffed and shut the door behind them as she followed Nancy into the kitchen. “It’s not like I caused the dust storm,” she parried back. “I didn’t actively put myself in that position. I wonder if the same could be said for everyone in this room or if maybe someone stole an ambulance and went out into a natural disaster of their own free will?”

Nancy froze before slowly turning to face Marjan, who was waiting with a single unimpressed eyebrow raised. “Okay,” she admitted, “that’s fair. And I’m sorry. It’s not like I’m mad at you for anything - you were just doing your job. I’m just…”

“Worried?” Marjan provided, “Because I was too. As soon as you guys had to pack up to head to another call I could feel it. I guess that’s something we’re going to have to get used to now.”

“Hmm,” Nancy agreed as she stepped into Marjan’s space, “that sucks.”

“It does,” Marjan agreed, reaching out her hands to rest on Nancy’s shoulders, “but you’re worth it.”

-------------

Marjan was woken up the next morning by the smell of breakfast coming from her kitchen. She frowned as she tried to remember what she had left out, but the sight of a rumpled and empty pillow beside her soon brought her clarity. She smiled as she pulled back the covers and climbed out of her bed, heading for the kitchen.

After the 126 hang at Captain Strand/Mateo/TK and Carlos’s house last night they had ended up back here, again. Marjan couldn’t say that she minded the new routine. It hadn’t been long but sleeping with the other woman beside her had become more and more of a habit as time went on and it wasn’t one she was looking to quit. Her smile only widened as she stepped into her kitchen to see Nancy at the stove sliding eggs onto two plates.

“Good morning,” she said softly as she drew closer, coming up behind Nancy and wrapping her arms around her waist.

“Good morning to you too,” Nancy quipped. “I was hoping the smell of turkey bacon would entice you out of bed.”

“It woke me up,” Marjan admitted, “but you not being there got me up. Turns out my bed is lonely without you.”

Nancy switched off the burner before turning, bending down to place a light kiss on her forehead. “I think I like the sound of that.”

“You better,” Marjan countered with a grin, “because it’s the truth.”

Nancy flushed brilliantly and Marjan’s grin grew, but any retort she could have made was interrupted by the sound of Marjan’s phone ringing.

“Hold that thought,” she murmured before stepping out of Nancy’s embrace and circling to the counter to grab her phone. She frowned at the screen as she picked it up, turning it so Nancy could see Captain Strand’s name on the screen.

“Cap?” She said in question as she answered. “Is everything alright?”  

“Everything’s fine,” he assured her and she couldn’t hide the deep sigh of release she let out at that, “better than fine actually. I have a plan, but I am going to need your help, if you’re willing. Well, you and the rest of the team.”  

“Sure,” she said, shifting the phone from her ear before putting it on speaker and placing it on the counter between them. “Name it, I’m sure we’ll be happy to help.”

“How do you feel about doing the 126 renovations ourselves? The red tape is going to take ages and I don’t know about you, but I’m eager to get the team back together as quickly as possible.”

She looked across the counter to see Nancy already grinning. “I think that sounds like a great idea Cap, just let me know what you need.”

“Just as many hands as we can get, though I hear you’re pretty good with mechanical stuff too so maybe a bit of that as well. Could you meet us at the station in two hours?”

“Sure thing Cap,” she replied, “I’ll be there and ready to get our team back.”

“That’s the plan,” Captain Stand agreed. “Oh, and one more thing. I hate to ask, but do you think you could pass it on to Nancy? I have TK out gathering supplies and I don’t want to put anything else on Captain Vega right now, and I’m embarrassed to say I don’t have her number.”

Marjan grinned across the counter to where Nancy was still standing, watching her with a warm smile.

“Not a problem Cap, she already knows. We’re together.”

Marjan doesn’t know if her Captain picks up on the double meaning of her words and she doesn’t care. All she does care is that she can say them; that they’re true. She cares that they are together. She might care more about that than she has really ever cared about anything.

She thinks that finally, she might know what love feels like, and she knows that whatever the future brings she’s ready to face it with her partner by her side.

[solo-net]

'Pre-relationship' 1 – 7 for Goro and Vera! ✨

1. How did they first meet?

Their first meeting was in Konpeki Plaza. Vera and Jackie were hiding in that cubby with Goro Takemura on the outside, scanning their hiding place. Vera’s first thought when those red eyes locked on her face was, ‘That man is going to kill us both.’ 

For Goro, his first meeting with Vera was in that landfill. He barely even broke a sweat when he shot Dex in the head and left him in a crumpled heap before kneeling down beside a half-dead Vera to assess her for any further injuries. He needed the nomad alive for interrogation, and his first thought when he stared into her eyes was, ‘Her eyes are violet.’ Seriously. The first thing he noticed about her was her violet eye contacts, lol. 

But after the Heist and the car chase, their first official meeting took place in Tom’s Diner. 

2. What was their first impression of each other?

Not very good. 

As a trained soldier and abled bodyguard, Goro had a talent for sizing up people, and he used that skill as soon as Vera stepped foot in the diner and took a seat across from him, studying her with eyes that gave nothing away. At the same time, he noted every detail about her. If the tiny nomad was distressed in any way by her friend’s death, she didn’t show it. Her expression was as unfeeling and cold as ice, but her eyes were red-rimmed and lined with exhaustion.

He’d mentally assessed her again, and this time with a man’s eye instead of a trained soldier. He didn’t have much use for thieves, but she was a beauty. Mid to late twenties, with a face that did not fit the usual description of a filthy nomad or hardened mercenary, clearly shaped, delicate in appearance, smooth dark skin, purple hair, an intriguing sultriness to her large violet eyes and full lips. She was missing her left arm, replaced by a cybernetic prosthetic that gleamed dully in the fluorescent lighting of Tom’s Diner. A beautiful woman, but hardly enough for him to ignore what she truly was.

V was a woman with no honor or morals. But a useful pawn he needed to avenge his master.

His witness.

Vera had sensed Takemura’s hostility and veiled contempt from the moment she spotted him in Tom’s Diner nursing what looked to be hot coffee, though he kept his face impassive, his eyes hooded. Saburo’s Arasaka’s bodyguard disapproved of her for some reason, but if he were aiming to intimidate her, he would hit a dead end. She was a nomad; she dealt with people like him her entire life—corporate suits who thought themselves better than everyone, soulless monsters with shark smiles and cold eyes. Takemura Goro was handsome in a refined, mature way, but his condescending attitude and God-like worship of Saburo Arasaka turned her off.

He wanted to use her to avenge an old fossil who lived for too long and get back in the good graces of the same corporate world that dropped him when he stopped being useful. He didn’t trust her, and she didn’t trust him.

That was fine.

She needed to get the biochip out of her head, and if that meant allying herself with this Arasaka cheerleader, then so be it.

3. Did any of their friends or family want them to get together?

Vera’s parents are dead. Goro was too far away for his family to ever form an opinion about her. But their friends had plenty to say. Johnny was against Goro from the start for obvious reasons, Vik’s not exactly a match-making genius, but he hoped that Vera would get along with him. Misty felt that fate had brought them together. Jackie was unsure if Goro could even be trusted because of his close ties to Arasaka. 

As for Goro’s friends, Oda half-suspected that there was something more to his partnership with the little thief, but he was being resentful and had immediately assumed that she was a whore who’d used her “wiles” to manipulate his teacher. Honestly, Oda had wrongfully judged Vera, but he wasn’t mistaken about their close relationship. 

4. Who felt romantic feelings first?

Surprisingly, it was Goro who began to fall for Vera first.

Goro thought that he had the thief all figured out, that he knew her and could predict her every move, but the more time Goro spent with her, the more he began to realize that she was a stranger to him and that he knew nothing. She was very subtle and careful not to reveal much about herself to him. She was unnervingly quiet and did not express her feelings easily, forcing him to make an effort to read and understand her better. Yes, she spoke but only to greet him and go over their next course of action before clamming up again and letting him take the lead.

Mercenaries are a loud, boastful lot without an ounce of control. But Vera was the complete opposite, and it caused Goro to adapt to her personality to understand her as a person better. Goro found himself slowly becoming fond of her, and it thrilled him to be rewarded with small smiles and little tidbits about her life before she became a mercenary. Goro was starting to look forward to their meetups and even found himself becoming protective of her, going so far as to position himself between her and his former student. Trust between them was built stone by stone, and in the end, Goro fell in love with her.

5. Did either of them try to resist their feelings?

Yes. 

Both tried to resist their feelings for each other, and both failed.

Goro was having a hard time with his affections for her and was so sure that it was merely lust and nothing more. Vera was horrified that she was becoming attached to Saburo Arasaka’s bodyguard and felt like she had betrayed her nomad roots. Feelings for the enemy? Impossible. Disgusting. 

So why did it feel so right?

6. If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think?

Goro would have laughed and called me a fool before having me forcibly removed from his presence and thrown out on my ass. Vera would cut me off and forbid me from ever saying such a thing. Yeah, none of them would have believed me. 

7. What would their lives be like if they had never met?

Hmm, Goro would still be Saburo’s bodyguard and remain so until he either died defending his master from an attack or simply remained by his side. Vera would have probably romanced Judy and left Night City with her to join up with the Aldecados. Their lives would have continued without much happening.

@pheedraws 

[yanderesuxreaderinserts]

Since shes coming back in SUF, how about some yandere pink pearl headcanons??

“W-What happened? Where am I?” You couldn’t help but divert your attention to Pink Pearl lying on the floor by herself. You knelt next to her, giving her a gentle smile as you offered out your hand to help her up.

A blush spread across her face as she gazed at you, placing her delicate palm in yours so as to be hoisted up. You couldn’t help but feel the need to protect her. The crack that spread across her face looked so painful, and you couldn’t help but raise your other hand to trace one of the fissures. She seemed surprised for a second, before you noticed her leaning into your touch.

“Oh sorry.” You retracted your arm. “I wasn’t really thinking-” before you could end your sentence she grasped your arm for a second, before quickly releasing it.

“I-It’s fine. I just... didn’t expect it.” Her face reddened, whether she was embarrassed or flustered you weren’t sure.

“Oh, you’ve met White’s Pearl! Maybe you two can be friends!” Steven approaches the two of you, smiling warmly. Pearl nodded eagerly, her eyes brightening. You were surprised at her adaptability to the current situation, since this was the first time she’d been able to make decisions for herself in hundreds of years, but Steven seemed pleased by how eager she was, and who were you to ruin this for him?

Over the next couple of weeks you got to know Pink Pearl. When some of the gems on Homeworld started moving to Beach City, Pearl came to you asking to stay with you, as Little Homeworld wouldn’t be completed for a couple years. You accepted her request almost immediately, it wasn’t healthy for her to stay in the same place where she’d suffered abuse for so long.

Once she moved in she seemed much happier. Whenever you got home she’d be at your side instantly, asking where you went and what you did. She insisted on helping out with cleaning and cooking, seeing as you were letting her stay in your house, no matter how much you told her it wasn’t a problem.

You worried she might be getting too attached to you, so you tried to introduce her to some of your friends and other gems. Whenever one of these situations came up she’d clam up, refusing to interact with them, only opening up whenever you asked her something.

You told Steven your worries and he agreed that it might not be the best thing, but at least she didn’t mind you, and after all, this was an immense amount of progress considering her prior situation. You eventually gave in and stopped attempting to get her to meet other people, waiting for her to approach someone else of her own accord. She enjoyed going outside with you though, so you continued taking her on outings to your favourite places.

There were some days where you’d wake up with her leaning her head on your shoulder, arms wrapped securely around your waist. Her grip was so tight it was impossible to break unless you woke her up first.

She got progressively more clingy as days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months, you tried to get her to go places without you, bet she refused if you weren’t going to be there. Eventually she started getting you to stay at home more often, asking you to stay with her. She seemed to dislike you interacting with other people, clinging to your arm and trying to pull you away.

One day you were talking to one of your exes. You two had broken up peacefully and agreed to stay together afterwards. He had been asking where you had been for the past couple of weeks, why nobody had seen you as often. It wasn’t long before you felt Pink Pearl’s familiar presence beside you. You took a moment to glance at her and to your surprise she was glaring at your ex with the kind of hatred you’d never expect to see on her sweet face. Eventually she interrupted your conversation, excusing the two of you. She led you round the corner before smashing her lips on yours. What followed was a very tense kiss before she dragged you away forcibly without giving you a chance to say goodbye to your friend.

[greenteafiend]

With the bingo thing...how about "I have your loved one" someone's taken Pidge and is taunting matt? Idk if that makes sense but I love your writing!!!!

Crosses are done, and I think just about everything has been requested now, thanks!! I’ve also started posting all these snippets on Ao3 which you can find here.

@badthingshappenbingo

Thanks for the request anon :)

When Lotor and the Paladins of Voltron were not seen for weeks, rumors flew that they had destroyed each other.

Matt never accepted it for one second. He knew his brilliant, brave, intelligent little sister was still out there, and he had complete confidence in her ability to return to him. The women in his family were notoriously stubborn. Matt’s mother was the strongest, most formidable person he knew, and Pidge was nothing if not their mother’s daughter. In contrast, Matt had definitely taken after their father in the temperament department. Where Pidge had inherited their mother’s fierceness, Matt had inherited their father’s mellow, easy-going, demeanor.

So it didn’t take him by surprise at all to see Pidge alive. What took him him completely off guard, like a sucker punch to the gut, was where he saw her.

Matt himself was in the high command center of the rebel forces, standing on Olia’s right side, staring at the open communication screen connected to Sendak’s flagship.

Sendak himself had hailed them, and demanded that they surrender their base on Olkari. Naturally, Olia had laughed in his face. Olkari was a good defensive position, there was no way Sendak’s forces could take it from them.

“Bring out our little Paladin,” said Sendak, a cruel smile twisting his harsh features into something grotesque.

Two Galra dragged out a tiny figure with a familiar mop of light brown hair. Matt’s breath caught in his chest as everything inside him screeched to a halt. His blood roared in his ears as every fiber of his being rejected what he was seeing. That couldn’t be his little sister, so far beyond his reach and in so much danger.

And then the figure looked up.

“M-Matt?” Unmistakably, heartbreakingly, Pidge, saying his name. She sounded young and scared, and there was blood on her face, trickling down one side of her face.

She stared at him with a slightly dazed look on her face, looking for all the world like the only thing keeping her from floating away, and off into space, was the bruising grip of the Galra by her sides.

It forcibly reminded Matt of a time when they were small children and she’d fallen out of their treehouse, hitting her head hard enough for a nasty concussion. Her eyes had been unfocused, her expression slightly confused, brow furrowed like understanding what was going on was hard, just like she was now. Matt had cried like a baby even though he was older, and not the one who got hurt.

The pain of watching her be hurt was worse than anything he could experience for himself, and in that moment, he felt equally as distraught and powerless as he had at eleven.

“Look after your sister for me, okay Matt?” those were his father’s parting words to him before he left. How would Matt ever be able to face either of his parents again if something happened to her?

Matt didn’t realize that he’d broken formation, that he’d started to march forward like he could leap right through the holoscreen and snatch Pidge, haul her back to safety and crush her to his chest where he could keep her safe, until Ryner and Nyma grabbed him, holding him back.

Sendak’s gaze alighted on him with interest, and Matt’s hands clenched into fists so tightly that his short blunt nails were in danger of making his palms bleed.

“Let her go,” he snarled, sounding nothing at all like himself.

Sendak laughed. It wasn’t a pleasant sound, it set Matt’s nerves on edge.

“Who is that boy to you, little paladin?”

There was still some defiance left in her because Pidge didn’t reply, she just glared at Sendak hatefully.

Sendak nodded at the guards, and one of them backhanded her hard enough that the only thing that stopped her from being thrown across the room was the grip of the other.

“He asked you a question,” snapped the guard.

“M-my sister! I’m her brother, she’s my sist–” blurted Matt, desperate to stop them hurting her, before getting cut off by someone clamping a hand over his mouth.

“Interesting…” remarked Sendak.

“I’m willing to spare her life in exchange for your surrender,” he continued.

Matt looked to Olia, who stared back at him sorrowfully.

No!

He tried to yell, but he could only make muffled sounds of protest against the hand covering his mouth, struggling in vain against all the arms holding him back.  

“We will not surrender the base,” said Olia firmly, turning away from Matt to face Sendak once more.

“That is a shame,” said Sendak, motioning to his guards once more. This time they hit Pidge in the gut, hard enough that she doubled over and fell to her knees.    

Tears gathered in Matt’s eyes, and he struggled even harder.

Sendak walked over and fisted a hand in the back of Pidge’s head, forcing her to look up at them.

“Look at him, little Paladin,” he said. Pidge’s eyes found Matt’s. There was a clam acceptance in her gaze that turned Matt’s blood into ice.

“Say his name for me,” Sendak ordered.

She pressed her lips together, remaining stubbornly silent.

Sendak yanked her head back even harder, making tears squeeze out at the corners of her eyes with how hard he was pulled her hair.

“Say. His. Name.”

Suddenly, one of the guards holding Pidge crumpled to the ground.

Sendak abruptly let go of Pidge in order to bring up his hulking fake arm in time to avoid having his face split open by a sword, shifting backwards out of their plane of view.

Lance. Matt recognized him. He didn’t recognize the gleaming broadsword he was wielding, however.

Keith came into view next, dispatching the other guard with ease. Before their eyes, Lance’s sword transformed into the gun Matt was familiar with, and he shot at something out of their view.

Then Hunk bound into view, dematerializing his bayard so he could scoop Pidge into his arms.

“I got her, c’mon, let’s go!” he yelled, and as quickly as they had appeared, Keith, Lance, and Hunk disappeared with Pidge. A split second later the connection between them was cut and the holoscreen went blank.

“Matt?” said Olia quietly, breaking the stunned silence that had descended over the room.

Matt shook off the arms of the people holding onto him, and this time they let him go.

“Excuse me,” he muttered roughly, striding from the room.

No one tried to stop him, wisely giving him space.

When the Lions of Voltron showed up a few days later on Olkari, Matt hugged Pidge so hard and for so long that she laughed at him and wriggled out of his grasp when it became clear that he wasn’t going to let go until she pulled away.

He hugged Lance, Hunk, and Keith too for good measure. Lance accepted his hug with good humor, Hunk accepted his with warmth and enthusiasm, while poor Keith froze, as stiff as a statue at the attention, awkwardly patting Matt on the back like he wasn’t sure what to do with his arms.

“Thank you so much,” he told them, quiet and sincere while Pidge was distracted greeting beezer.

“She’s like a sister to us too, man,” said Hunk simply.

Not for the first time, Matt was glad at the company Pidge had found herself up here with. They were lucky to have her, she was lucky to have them, and Matt was lucky they had each other.

[wellhellotragic]

If Looks Could Kill 25/27

Summary: Emma Swan is a dedicated FBI agent getting over a bad breakup. When she and her partner, Ruby Lucas, are forced to go undercover as contestants on a reality show, Emma is forced to try and win the affections of Killian Jones, a man she despises. Killian Jones is a lost boy. Having recently been nicknamed the ‘Bad Boy of Boston,’ he’s been living up to his moniker using women and rum to avoid dealing with his dark past. When he’s forced to take the lead in a reality show, he encounters a gorgeous blonde who turns his world upside down. Miss Congeniality meets The Bachelor

Rated: M for language, violence, and smut.

Catch up here: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24

When the moment he’d been dreading finally arrived, it wasn’t quite as bad as he had expected. For weeks, he had been under the impression that the last rose and the ring were going on the finger of a different blonde. He’d even initially felt giddy at the idea getting down on one knee in front of her. He’d wondered at her reaction. Would she be overwhelmed and closed off to him, or would she have played along, throwing her body into his?

It didn’t matter now, though. Emma had betrayed him. She’d lied to him about herself, about what she really wanted from him, just as Milah had, and it hurt more than words could express. Elsa was the safe choice - ignoring the fact that she was technically the only choice. There was a small amount of guilt tugging at him, knowing that Elsa held feelings for him that he was unable to reciprocate. But despite how sweet and authentic she was, his heart was broken and useless. He’d do his best not to lead her on too much, to let her down gently.

All three women stood before him, pointedly ignoring the camera that was filming their anxious reactions. Well, two of the women did, at least. Ever since Emma had left, Ruby’s attempts at seduction had waned to nearly nothing, and today’s looks of pity were no different. Killian wasn’t even certain if they were still planning on airing the footage given that one of the contestants was about to be arrested.

He recited the speech that had been written for him, addressing his relationship with each woman just as the cue cards has instructed him to. When he finally sunk down in front of Elsa, ring box in hand, he did his best to force a smile for the camera. Her big blue eyes lit up and she squealed a little before rapidly nodding her head ‘yes’. He slid the ring on her finger and she hugged him tightly, rising on her tiptoes to kiss him.

He stood there, shocked and rigid. The cameras cut and he peeled himself out of her grasp as politely as possible. Ruby wasted no time in shifting back into her agent persona. The remaining agents posing as camera crew members set down their equipment and surrounded Tamara. A brief flicker of genuine surprised crossed the assassin’s features, but she was quick to clam up as David read her her rights. Ava tugged both him and Elsa out of the way and he watched as Tamara was handcuffed and dragged away.

When he looked over to Elsa, her jaw had dropped and once again that spark of guilt ignited within him. She deserved to know the truth. Relationship status aside, he refused to lie to her the way everyone had to him.

So he told her. He explained that he had been an unsuspecting dupe until recently as well. Regina had fooled him into participating in the show and using him to help the FBI set up a sting operation. It felt important for her to know that. She was stunned, and probably a little overwhelmed. It was a lot of information to take in. He further explained that both Emma and Ruby were agents trying to find proof of Tamara’s involvement in his assasination plot.

The unasked question filled the air between them, until the tension became too much for him to bear.

“I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

There were no other words to express how awful he felt for leading her on.

“Can I ask you something?” Hope sparkled behind her eyes.

He nodded, still unable to speak.

“I know that you don’t really feel anything for me yet, but are you willing to try?”

“I don’t-”

Her face relaxed a bit. Even now she had an oddly calming effect.

“I don’t mean that I want to you to force yourself to feel something for me. Just that I want you to stay open to the possibility. As I understand it, and perhaps I’m wrong, it’s been a few months since I read the participation contract, but I think we have to remain engaged for at least six months. So for the next six months, I’m just asking that you don’t shut me out.”

He took a deep breath, and then another while her carefully thought through his wording.

“I can’t promise that I’ll fall in love with you. My heart has been beaten up pretty badly in the past, and I can’t promise that I won’t shut you out, but I promise I’ll try.”

Her blue eyes lit up, and for all of the anger and confusion warring inside him, he couldn’t help but wish that it had been green eyes staring back at him. And that was possibly the biggest problem. For as hurt as he was, and as broken as he was, he still loved Emma, and he didn’t know how to stop.

Before they could say anything more, Ruby approached them explaining that they were taking Tamara to the FBI headquarters for questioning. Killian and Elsa would be following behind them a few minutes later to ensure that Tamara didn’t make a last ditch effort to kill him. Ruby wanted to put as much space as possible between them, but wanted Killian somewhere safe where she could keep an eye on him for the time being.

Ten minutes after Ruby left with Tamara, two men in suits found Killian and Elsa and escorted them outside where a black SUV was waiting. They climbed in the back, while the agents climbed into the front seats, and began heading towards the general direction of Robin and Will’s office.

The scenery was actually quite beautiful. The view from his window was nothing but water as far as the eye could see. The waves lapped up to the shore line before receding and eventually returning. The afternoon sun left a sparkling gleam. He’d been slightly hungover when he had arrived the first day, and each time Will or Ruby had snuck him off the property it had been too dark for him notice. Now, with Elsa sitting next to him, he couldn’t help but look outside, to look anywhere but at her.

They were about three miles away from the mansion, still on a seldom used road, when he was ripped from his thoughts by a loud noise. The SUV began to swerve and suddenly he was tumbling. The SUV rolled; he lost count of how many times. Everything stilled. His vision was blurry and a sharp piercing pain stabbed at the left side of his face. It took him a moment to come back to himself, to realize what was happening, and by then it was too late.

He looked over to find the door next to Elsa being ripped open and a man forcibly removing Elsa. He thought she was screaming, but everything was still so muddled in his mind. She thrashed, and the man brandished a gun, and Elsa went still, fear coloring her face. He tried to help her, but his seatbelt was stuck and he couldn’t get out. His limbs were dead weight anyway, and eventually he succumbed to the fatigue. Everything went black.

“What do you mean ‘they ’took him?”

“They! Him. Her. Does it matter? Someone took him and they’re going to kill him if they haven’t already.”

“So we’re too late then?”

Emma had never wanted to throttle August more in her life than she did in that moment. They couldn’t be too late, because the implications of that statement were too much for her heart to bear.

“How long has your boyfriend been missing?”

Emma’s mouth fell open. No one had ever outwardly referred to him as her boyfriend, not her anything. She snapped out of it quickly though, remembering the seriousness of the situation.

“I don’t know. Ruby was running back into the interrogation room, and Will was in a hurry as well, but I don’t think they know much.”

She could feel her heart rate speeding up and was certain that it was going to explode at any moment.

“And they’re in the interrogation room now?”

She nodded at Aladdin. He seemed calm, too calm.

“I can work with that.”

He clicked away, spinning in his chair and working away at three different keyboards. Before she knew it, the screen to the far right was tapped into the interrogation room camera. The very secure - but apparently not nearly as secure as she believed - camera.

“Do you do this often?”

“Semantics,” he shrugged. “Your definition of often and mine probably differ greatly.”

She was thrown. There was something about his arrogance that put her at ease, which she found upsetting. She didn’t need to be bonding with someone while Killian was possibly fighting for his life.

Instead she chose to focus on the screen closest to her. Aladdin turned up the sound a bit before turning back and working on something else. Ruby was coming at Tamara with everything she had. Emma had seen Ruby confronting suspects before, and she knew how fierce Ruby could be. Robin and Will were both leaning against the wall behind Ruby as a show of solidarity, but Tamara didn’t seem phased, and Emma knew that they weren’t going to get anything out of her.

It was completely frustrating, sitting on the sidelines, helpless to do anything of value. She didn’t know how to hack computers, she couldn’t be in the interrogation room, and there was nothing left for the files to reveal. She felt like a failure, and Killian would suffer for her incompetence.

“I may have something.”

Emma never let her eyes leave the screen as Aladdin spoke.

“I found the origin of the payments. The account paying your girl there,” he said as he head nodded towards the screen, “belonged to Malcolm Gold, but there’s another account financing him.”

“Whose account?”

It was the first time August had spoken since he had insinuated that Killian was already dead.

“Hold your horses. I just found the account. It’s based out of London, but it’s going to take me a little bit longer to get into the bank’s systems. They’re a little bit more complex than the FBI’s.”

Emma wasn’t sure if it was a low blow, or a cheeky comment meant to entertain her, but either way she was unamused. Her thoughts though were focused on something else he said.

It’s based out of London.

London, where Killian lived before he came to Boston. Whatever the reason for the hit being issued stemmed from before he came to the states. Emma thought back through the files. So much of what they had compiled was filled with his life in the past two years, since the anonymous threats hadn’t started until after he had become a local fixture there.

She knew little about his time there. Regina had succeeded in burying everything about his life in an effort to hide his indiscretions with a Milah, a woman still married to a wealthy and powerful man.

Shit.

“I need one of your computers.”

“Whoa, whoa,” Aladdin started as he stood and placed both hands in front of him. “No one touches my equipment but me. It’s the one rule I won’t break or bend.”

“Fine.” She was beyond frustrated but didn’t want to waste anymore time. “I need you to look someone up for me.”

Aladdin considered her for a moment before nodding at he to approach.

“Name?”

“Milah.”

“Milah...?” He drew out the last syllable.

“I don’t know her last name. Just that her first name was Milah and that she lived in London. She was murdered two years ago in Reading.”

He scrunched his brow.

“It’s a long shot but okay.”

Emma was pretty sure it was anything but a long shot. While Killian’s participation had been erased, from what he had told her it had been headline news. Her husband was the head of a major music label and something the murder of his wife wouldn’t be easily swept under the rug.

“Holy shit.”

Emma was snapped out of her thoughts by August’s exclamation.

“What?”

It wasn’t sudden like in the movies. He didn’t gasp back into consciousness with the alertness of a shot full of adrenaline. No, it was slow, and painful. He had to fight the heavy lead feeling that kept his eyes shut. He wanted nothing more than to drift back off to sleep, but the left side of his face was throbbing and he didn’t know why.

He tried to move his hand up to his face to inspect the damage, but he found he was unable to move any of his limbs. Worry started to take over his body. When was the last time he’d felt like this? The hospital, as his was pumped full of medication that left him nearly catatonic. Was he still there? Had everything been a dream?

Using the very last of whatever energy he had left he forced his right eye open, expecting to find himself surrounded by machines and wires. Instead, there was nothing but beat up plaster and weathered wooden beams. He tried to turn his head, but the pain only became more intense. His body instinctively tried to call out, but the sound was muffled. He’d been gagged with something. He could taste blood though, and when his head fell back toward his chest, there was red staining his shirt.

Eventually the pain became too much and the blackness overtook him once again.

Seeing his face in black and white on the screen. She was stunned. Robert Gold was Milah’s husband. The same Robert Gold that had hired Neal to seduce her and defraud her entire case against him. The same man that had, in a roundabout way, destroyed her career.

Small world.

“Em, what’s going on? How is he related?”

Emma just shook her head at him. Although she’d promised to give him all of the case details for his help, this was the one thing she wasn’t ready to reveal. It wasn’t hers to give away.

His mouth opened and she was about to stop him, but before she could a loud beeping started. Aladdin turned to another screen where a light was flashing.

“Well I’ll be a son of a monkey. Guess who the account belongs to?”

She didn’t need to. Robert Gold. He was still pissed that Killian had slept with his wife and had ordered the hit. She wouldn’t have been surprised if the crazed stalker attack that resulted in Milah’s death hadn’t been directly related to him as well.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement on the far screen in the interrogation room. The door opened and someone Emma didn’t recognized handed Will a folder. He flipped through it and his face dropped, causing all of the air to rush out of her body. She knew that the green folders were reserved for the techs that combed over the crime scene.

Ruby looked to him and Emma could tell that he was apprehensive.

“They’re still working on it but the blood in the back was from two different sources, and they said it was a lot of blood, even for two people. If they aren’t already dead from blood loss, they will be soon.”

Will tossed the file over to Robin and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Emma couldn’t blame him; she was pretty sure that if she were in his shoes, her fist would have already knocked Tamara out of her chair.

“Emma.”

It wasn’t a question, or a demand. August’s voice was small, and she knew that whatever he was about to tell her wouldn’t be good.

“You should come look at this.”

Giving herself a moment to fight off the tears she felt prickling the corner of her eyes, she looked up to the ceiling and blinking everything away. Once she felt confident that she wasn’t going to start bawling in front of August and a strange man she still hadn’t made her mind up about yet, she went to look over Aladdin’s shoulder.

Just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse, Aladdin and August had found another picture of Robert and Milah Gold, a family portrait of them sitting behind a young man that she recognized all too well. Neal Cassidy.

“His real name is Baelfire Gold. He’s their son.”

Small fucking world.

Neal, or apparently Baelfire had spoken of his parents often. His father was a cruel man who cared more about money and power than he did about his wife or child. Neal hated the man with everything he had, but Neal rarely spoke of his mother. Only that she was kind but that she hadn’t been present for the later half of his life. She traveled a lot and looked for excuses to be away from home, for which he blamed on his father.

Thinking back, she should have realized. Neal had left her life in such a disastrous state, and after years of searching for him, she had been certain that she was never going to see him again. But then he waltzed back in, and was so nonchalant about seeing her, like he hadn’t wrecked her, like he hadn’t destroyed everything about her.

Of course he’d come back because he was somehow in on the plot to kill Killian.

A loud noise from one of the speakers startled them all. Will had rushed back in telling both Robin and Ruby that they’d gotten a tip that someone saw Killian being hauled off into a building out in Taunton, about fifty minutes south of Boston. It was an old abandoned hospital that had closed down in the mid seventies. A fire had destroyed the main complex but there were still a few outlying buildings that could have easily housed an evil maniacal lair.

Ruby told another agent to keep an eye on Tamara and not to let her leave the room. Emma couldn’t see her once she left, but she knew that Ruby, Robin, and Will were going after Killian, and she needed to be there when they found him. Alive or dead, she needed to see him for herself.

She didn’t give any thought to the two other men, grabbing the flashlight again and turning to head back to the car, but Aladdin called out for her. She didn’t want to stop, to be delayed, but there was something in the tone of his voice that forced her feet to stop moving.

“It doesn’t add up.”

“What do you mean? Someone saw Killian being carried inside.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” Emma was on her last straw. “The key to thievery is misdirection.”

He tapped away at a few more keys.

“Something feels off. There’s nothing here to support that anyone would take him there. There’s no electricity running out there, water, anything a person would need to survive. Whoever took him wouldn’t stay there.”

“Assassins don’t need electricity or water to murder him!”

“If someone just wanted to kill him, they would have left him in the SUV. They want him for something else, and I’m telling you, they didn’t take him there.”

That made sense. She might have realized it herself if she hadn’t been so caught up with worry.

“Okay.” She paced in a circle a few times, trying to think everything over. “You said Gold was paying out another account. Whose is it?”

She had her suspicions, but she needed Aladdin to confirm it first.

It didn’t take long. The payments were to a Baelfire Gold. Of course they were. So Neal had Killian. Now they just needed to find Neal.

“Food.”

Emma tilted her head at August. What he really suggesting that they break for dinner now?

“He’s gotta eat. I’m guessing if he’s laying low, he’s not going to go far to get his meals and maybe even gas for his car, so if she can just track down where he ate, we can narrow down the area he’s hiding out in.”

Emma took a deep breath. She needed to get her shit together. She was ready to snap and think the absolute worst of everyone.

Soon enough, they had it narrowed down to a four block radius based on his purchase history. Emma relied on her training to further narrow it down. It would likely need to be sound proof, so the construction would have to be thick stone or concrete. It would need to be as isolated as possible, so something detached. August had suggested looking up recent deed changes, but Emma’s eyes were drawn to a large building. In and of itself, it was nothing special, but it fit all of the parameters, and judging from the windows that had been boarded up with plywood, it had long since been abandoned. The Hotel Alexandra. After looking up the deed info, they discovered that it had been purchased years before by the Church of Scientology, but they had left the property to ruins due to financing issues. Neal wouldn’t have had any issues breaking in and holding Killian there.

Emma barely heard August call out to her to check the trunk before she was halfway down the hall, almost to the steps. The hotel was less than two miles from the abandoned station they were using, but it would still be faster to drive. Along the way she called Ruby. There was no answer but Emma left a message explaining that the place in Taunton was just a smoke screen and that they were actually holding Killian in Cambridge, or at least she was ninety-nine percent sure they were. She purposefully left out how she had come about her information. After all of his help, the last thing Emma wanted was to cause trouble for Aladdin. Unfortunately, she knew that the team would almost be to the hospital and it would take them too long to get back. She was going to have to go in alone.

She had to force herself not to clamp down on the brakes so hard that she squealed as she pulled up. She needed to hold on the the element of surprise for as long as possible. The building looked just like the month old pictures. Everything was dirty, mud caked onto the stone, rust covering the metal flashing. If she wasn’t so concerned with Killian, she might have taken the time to ponder how such a beautiful building could be left in such derelict.

There wasn’t any real parking so she pulled August’s car further up the street and parked halfway on the sidewalk. Worst case scenario she would have to pay him back for the towing fee, but it was nothing compared to Killian’s life.

She’d almost forgotten August’s advice about looking into the truck as she ran towards the building, but after doubling back and popping it, should couldn’t have been more grateful to him. There were two bullet proof vests sitting on top of some black pants and hoodies, a crowbar, and gloves. She’d need to have a talk with him about that, but it could wait. Quickly clipping the vest clasps around her torso, Emma slammed the trunk shut and headed back to the side of the building.

The ground floor of the building was mostly stone, with no windows to provide access in. She peeked around the corner, looking at the front entrance, two large glass doors in the center adorned by two windows on each side. But that would be too obvious, to much risk that someone may see her. Heading back around to the side of the building, she found a loading bay door. The back of the building was attached to another set of apartments, leaving the large metal sheeting the only option. It would be loud, but perhaps if she could just prop it up enough, she could roll under it.

Looking around, Emma found a street cone that if tipped on it’s side could work perfectly. The remaining issue was getting the door open. The lock appeared easy enough to pick, but she was out in the open, on a well traveled street. Anyone traveling by would have been suspicious, and while she was eager to have backup arrive, the last thing she needed was the Boston PD showing up and charging in and Killian getting caught in the cross-fire.

Emma cursed as she reached into her back pocket for her lock picking tools only to remember that they were sitting on top of a work table in Aladdin’s makeshift hackers den. She wanted to scream, to kick and punch anything that moved and then scream some more, but she couldn’t.

Balling up both of her hands into fists, she let her head fall back and summoned some mystical force to help her. After a few deeps breaths, something in her clicked and the frustration once replaced by determination. Praying, she tugged at the bottom of the door, hoping against all hope that it was unlocked, or maybe just a piece of crap. Luckily the gods were in her side, as the door creaked and moaned from disused as it slowly rolled up. She paused, listening for any noise from inside, any indication that someone had heard her. Once she felt confident that no one was coming, she pulled it up a little higher and jammed the cone into place to hold it up.

It was eerily quiet inside. The door had led to a loading room, and with the limited amount of light fluttering in, it was a struggle to make it across the room without kicked debris that had been left behind by the previous owner or the random beer cans that had either be left by mischievous kids having a party or homeless people looking for shelter. She considered using her flashlight, but it only had one supernova light setting.

At the opposite end, she found an old metal door that was thankfully unlocked as well. It opened into a hallway. She was cautious as she made her way down the hall, once again listening for sounds. The walls were stained, and the threadbare carpet smelled like urine. It was exactly the type of place she would expect to find Neal squatting in.

The further she got towards the end of the hallway, the more sunlight began to light the way. It opened into a grand foyer. To her left were two elevators, both useless with the lack of electricity. A few deserted shops littered the perimeter. There was also a grand staircase leading to a second floor. She considered it for a moment. The building was over thirty thousand square foot and held fifty rooms. She didn’t have time to check them all one by one, while simultaneously avoiding Neal and whatever other occupants might have been squatting there.

She thought back to the search parameters she had listed off when searching for the building. He’d need a quiet place to hold Killian, and although the place was spacious, the wooden boards covering the windows wouldn’t provide enough sound proofing. It needed to be something more isolated, like conference room, or - the basement. It was underground, surrounded by concrete and dirt. It was perfect. Now she just needed to find it.

The back hallways were a mess. Even with renovations, much of the hundred and fifty year old building still retained much of it’s original structure, which meant everything was one huge maze. It wasn’t until she her third turn that she found a door that opened to stairs leading down instead of up.

She crept down the stairs in tiptoes, feeling the plastered walls, letting her hands guide her. It was pitch black, and she was still reluctant to turn her flashlight on. Unfortunately, the staircase let out in the middle of a hallway, and faced with the unknown, she was forced to turn it on.

Cobwebs lined the ceiling, and the cracked uneven concrete floors were damp in spots. It smelled of mold and Emma felt the need for an immediate shower. She’d never been a fan of confined spaces, having been locked into more than her fair share of small rooms during her foster home days, and if it hadn’t been for Killian, she probably would have turned and run already.

Emma steadied herself, pushing down the feeling of panic that was trying to claw its way through her, like a nightmare taking hold. Any minute now she was certain a monster was going to jump out of the darkness and murder her where she stood.

Deep breathes. In and out, in and out. He needed her. She could do this. Emma shook it off and looked out in both directions trying to figure out which was to go first. There was something in her gut, a tug that pulled her left. Following her instinct, she veered left, staying against the wall, and pointing her flashlight at an angle to try to minimize the light reflected. She passes a few doors, but quickly dismissed them as they were still covered in years worth of dust.

At the end of the hall though, there was a shiny knob protruding from the only door not hidden away by webbing. Emma placed her ear up against it, and when she didn’t hear voices, she reached for the knob and turned it slowly.

Broken. That’s all she felt when she saw him slumped in his chair in the middle of a room. There was light creeping in through three small hopper windows at the top of the wall, enough light that she didn’t realize she had dropped her flashlight at the sight of his beat up body. She didn’t even look around the rest of the room, years of training evaporating in an instant as she just ran to him.

There was blood running down the side of his face and down his shoulder. It was enough that it hadn’t fully dried and caused her alarm. His left eye was swollen shut and small cuts adorned his neck and arm. Someone had shoved a rag into his mouth to gag him.

“Killian?” she whispered as he hands hovered over his cheeks, afraid to touch him.

When he didn’t respond, she called him louder, taking his face fully into her hands. It was slow, the way he came back to life. His grunts were muffled as she pulled the cloth from his mouth.

“Killian?” she tried once more.

He stirred more, peeling his right eye open. She could tell he was dazed. There were whimpering moans that she was sure he wasn’t even aware his was making, but the moment he realized she was there, the blue in his eye intensified.

“Emma?”

“Hey, I’m right here. I’m gonna get you out here, okay?”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

His voice was rough and it broke her heart.

“Did you really think I was just going to let them hurt you?” A small chuckle escaped her mouth, relieved that he was still there.

“You’re impossible.”

And I’m in love with you. She hadn’t said it since Neal, and admitting it to Killian was something monumental. She hadn’t ever even said it to Walsh. It was on the tip of her tongue, the courage building within her, spurred on by the fear of losing him and never having said it, but his voice cut through interrupting her thoughts before she could.

“Where’s Elsa?”

And then she remembered; Killian not only hated her, but he was engaged to another woman, the woman he was currently asking for. In her worry, Emma had forgotten than she even existed, or that she’d been taken with Killian.

Emma glanced around the room but Killian was the only one there.

“She’s not here.” Her voice was so quiet she wasn’t sure he could hear her.

“He grabbed her too. He’s got to be holding her in another room.”

“Okay, let’s get you up and we can go look-”

“No!” A growl escaped him. “Find her first.”

Emma had to choke back a sob. Seeing how concerned he was for Elsa nearly broke her. He loved her. Elsa was everything that Emma could never be, of course he was in love with her. She was beautiful, kind, talented, and she’d never hurt him.

“Ya, okay.” Her voice was breaking, so she chose not to say anything else.

Elsa was probably in the same type of room at the opposite side of the hallway. If she ran, it wouldn’t take her long to get there and to get back to Killian. Before she turned to leave, Emma unclipped her bullet proof vest and worked it around Killian’s torso to protect him until she got back. He was still fading in and out of consciousness. She gave him one last glance before grabbing her discarded flashlight and bolting out the door.

She nearly stumbled down the hallway, her legs wanting to buckled underneath her. Everything was falling apart and she had to shove her fist in her mouth to block out the cries coming from her broken heart. Even if she saved him, she was still going to lose him.

Her body wanted to betray her, it wanted to crumple onto the floor and give up, but she pushed through, her training taking over forcing her to move. Just as before, all of the doors leading to the end of the hallway were covered in soot, and it was only the door at the far end that showed signs of use.

She listened again, this time hearing muffled whispers and a female voice. Her hand was reaching for the doorknob when she heard a shot ring out. Without thinking she yanked the door open to find Elsa standing over a body in the middle of the room, a pool of crimson growing at her feet.

“Elsa?”

Elsa turned, obviously shocked by Emma’s presence. She had some of the same cuts and bruises that littered Killian’s body, though her’s seemed thankfully more superficial. Killian had apparently taken the brunt of the injuries - unsurprising, given the bounty on his head. Elsa dropped the gun and her entire body started shaking. Soon sobs filled the room and Elsa fell to the floor.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m going to get you both out of here.”

Emma walked over to Elsa and placed both of her hands on her shoulders. Despite her own feelings, she remembered August and the way he’d fallen apart after seeing Malcolm’s dead body. She could only imagine what he was like for Elsa, knowing the shock and self blame that was sure to follow.

Taking in the room, looking for anyone else, Emma noticed that this room held more stuff than the one she had left Killian in. There were silver trays stacked on a shelf, a bag of greasy takeout food and two cups on one of the desks scattered around. Something was bothering her but she couldn’t place it. She hadn’t seen Neal anywhere yet, and it worried her.

“Come on, I want to get out of here before anyone else shows up.”

Elsa’s body was still shivering but she looked up at Emma and nodded. Emma held her hands out and helped Elsa off the floor, leading her out of the room. There was another take away cup sitting on the shelf by the door tucked in between the scattered plates, and Emma had that feeling away. Something wasn’t right. She stared at the cup as she walked towards the door, when a flash of movement caught her eye.

She moved just in time for Elsa’s knife to miss her back. She turned and took a step backwards, avoiding another lunge.

“What the hell?”

Emma moved to pull her gun from the back of her pants, but Elsa dove for her and both women were knocked to the ground. Elsa’s hand came around Emma’s neck, but Emma was able to hit her elbow and the reflex forced Elsa to let go. Emma was able to get her leg up and kicked Elsa in the stomach, knocking her backwards. Emma’s head was throbbing from where it had hit the concrete as she fell, and her vision blurred for a moment.

It was enough time for Elsa to regain her footing. She came at Emma again and kicked her in the ribs, knocking the air out of her. When Elsa’s right leg moved back to kick again, Emma yanked her left foot forward knocking her down. Still feeling winded and dazed, she crawled away, trying to put some distance between her and Elsa.

How the fuck had no one known that Elsa was a ninja assassin?

“You couldn’t just let it go.” Elsa sounded as exhausted as Emma felt. “You had to come back for him.”

Emma’s mind raced as she tried to make sense of what was happening. “But the car? Why would you crash the car?”

“I’m not stupid,” Elsa snorted, giving a brief glance to the body growing cold on the floor behind her. “I couldn’t just flat out kill him in front of everyone. This way I’m just an innocent victim, a bystander.”

“Why are you doing this?”

Elsa laughed, something dark and evil.

“Not all of us got adopted by nice, well-rounded families, Emma.”

Elsa’s knowledge of her background threw her. It shouldn’t have, though; Neal knew it all, and of course he had told.

“Sometimes, life just sucks and you have to take what you want if you want to survive. Not everyone can become a perfect little FBI agent, doing what they’re told and not giving a shit about punishing the real scum of the earth. No, some of us have to do that job for you.”

“As a cold blooded hitman?”

Emma used Elsa’s distraction to move further away. Her gun had become dislodged during their scuffle and had slid across the room, but the knife Elsa had branded was almost within reach, if she could just get to it before Elsa could.

“Are you not listening? I only go after people who deserve it. Men who beat their wives, rape other women,” she paused. “Men who break up happy families.”

She gave Emma a wicked grin and Emma immediately knew that she lumped Killian in with the last group, despite that Neal had been an adult as the time and Milah had clearly been unhappy. In Elsa’s warped mind though, she just saw a homewrecker who broke everything.

“So what? The world was mean to you as a kid and now you’re punishing the rest of us? Taking out hits on innocent people and pretending that you’re some sort of vigilante? Boo hoo. Shit happens, but you get over it.”

“They’re not innocent! None of them are!”

Emma knew it was a low blow, and that childhood pain wasn’t anything that you just got over. She wasn’t over being abandoned as a baby, and she had no idea what the the full extent of Elsa’s story was. She just needed to keep her distracted.

It was too far though, and Elsa lunged for her. Emma’s body was sluggish, and it took everything she had to dive for the knife, turning and plunging it into Elsa’s stomach just in time. Elsa gasped and pulled back. Emma’s grip stayed firm on the knife though, and with Elsa pulled back, she clutched her belly, but blood quickly filled her hands and ran to the ground. Elsa fell to her knees before slumping over completely.

Emma scrambled to get on her feet, moving and picking up her gun in case Elsa came at her again. She didn’t move though, her body lay still, no signs of breathing. Emma didn’t waste any time heading back to Killian, leaving Elsa’s body behind.

Her head was foggy, pain coursing through it in waves. As she reached back her ribs pulled in protest, likely broken from being kicked. Her fingers made contact with the back of her head and it stung. When she pulled them back they were covered in red.

Everything was starting to catch up with her, and it was only her power of will that kept her going. She needed to get Killian to safety before falling over. Her legs felt like lead as she nearly dragged herself back to the room. She cracked the door open and walked to him, determined to get him untied and drag him up the stairs as soon as possible. She hadn’t even realized that his gag was back in place until she heard his muffled screams. His one good eye widened and he started fighting against his bindings, and then the door shut behind her.

“Hey, Ems.”

Emma whipped around, suddenly spurred on by a rush of adrenaline at hearing his voice. Her hand tighten on the grip of her gun.

“Ah, aah, ahh. Not so fast, Emma.”

Her heart was thrumming in her chest.

“Drop it, babe.”

She hated him. She hated that he still called her by the endearment he used to use, that he always seem to leave her life in ruins. But right now what she hated most was that he already had a gun pointed straight at her. She knew she wouldn’t be able to move fast enough to clear his aim, and her vest was wrapped around Killian, leaving her vulnerable. She had no choice but to toss the gun to the side.

“Hey,” he started again as he took a few steps towards her. She tried to move back, but her body was nearly frozen in place. “I’ve missed you.”

She snorted in contempt.

“Ya, you missed me so much that you used me and ruined my career. You missed me so much that you just disappeared in the middle of the night without a trace.”

All of the years of anger came rushing back, and she wanted nothing more than to thrust Elsa’s knife into his heart.

“Ems, I couldn’t stay. What I did, it was to keep you safe.”

She laughed, something crazed bubbling from within.

“I’m serious. You don’t get it, do you? He was going to kill you, put a contract out on you just like he does everyone else. I couldn’t let that happen, so I made a deal with him. What I did, it kept him happy and you safe. I was so in love with you.”

He stepped forward again. “I still am.”

Ironic how the words she had longed to hear for so long now only sickened her. She watched his lips curl up at the end, the added wrinkles from stress crossing his face. He’d been handsome once, or she’d just been blinded by her feelings for him, but now, with nothing but resentment, he was just a man who looked like he’d lived a tough life.

“You could have told me, warned me!”

Angry tears were starting to spill over.

“I know you. You’re so head strong. You wouldn’t have stopped. I needed to do something drastic.”

She heard Killian’s mumbles coming from behind her and she averted her gaze, not ready to face Neal yet.

“And what? You see me with someone else and suddenly find a reason to come back into my life?”

“You don’t know how hard it’s been staying away from you. Watching you with him,” Neal continued while nodding towards Killian. “He destroyed my family, took my mom. It’s his fault she’s dead.”

“It’s not, though. He didn’t kill her Neal. That person is serving a life sentence in a mental institution.”

“No!” Neal’s facade broke and his face filled with fury. “If she hadn’t been there on that bus with him, she wouldn’t have died. If she had been at home where she belonged, she’d still be alive. It’s all his fault. And now- now he’s trying to steal you too.”

Did he really think she belonged to him in someway? That she’d ever go back to him?

“No, Neal. You can’t steal what isn’t yours. You had me! You’re the one that left, you threw me away!”

She could feel the tears flowing down her cheeks.

“I didn’t though. I kept you safe. Can you honestly tell me that you don’t love me anymore? Can you tell me that you don’t even think of me, and what would have happened if things had been different?”

“I did love you, and I did think about you. I daydreamed about all of the what ifs. What if we have moved down to Tallahassee when you suggested it? What if I had been assigned to a different case? What if you hadn’t left? I think we could have been happy.”

The truth was, she had thought about it. The ‘what ifs’ had kept her up more nights than she could count, and their time together had been happy for the most part. But then he had left and destroyed everything they had. There was no going back.

“We can still have that. You and me. We can run away, somewhere where my dad can’t find us, start that family we talked about. Emma, Don’t throw your life away for him.”

“Neal.” Her voice cracked and he took is as a sign, shuffling closer to her.

“Come with me.”

The damn broke, and she took a step forwards, placing her hands over his.

“Neal, if you had said that to me a few years ago, maybe even a few months ago, I probably would have walked away from everything, no questions asked. But now I’m different. I don’t love you, not anymore.”

“Emma, don’t do this. Do you think he loves you? That he gives a shit about you?”

“Honestly? I don’t know, if I were him, I’d probably hate me, and I can’t blame him after everything I’ve done. I turned into you. I lied and deceived him, and I told myself that it was okay, because I was protecting him, but in the end, I just hurt him more. He has every right to hate me,” she paused, the emotion too much. “But just because he might not love me - even if he hates me - it doesn’t mean that I don’t love him.”

She didn’t know if he heard her, but letting the words out released something in her. She loved him, and that was everything. He was everything. She needed someone to know, even if that meant it was just Neal and God that heard her last confession.

Surging with every bit of energy she could muster, she grabbed at his gun. He was caught off guard, but he was fast and recovered quickly. She gave it everything she had as they fought for control, and when the gun fired off not one, but two rounds, she was shocked to see the life draining out of eyes. He slumped and she let him go. She let go of her anger, her pain, the hurt. She let go of it all, only letting the love remain.

Her body had nothing left to give and she almost fell as she made her way to Killian, pulling the gag from his mouth again. She reached around to work at the knots holding his legs in place when she heard him yell her name.

She turned to find Neal, sitting up, point the gun at her. Another shot rang out and Neal fell over, the wound in his head finally doing him in. Perched in the doorway was Ruby. Emma continued to loosen Killian’s binds and Robin and Will rushed in to help hoist him up.

“He needs to be checked out.”

“Ya, ya, we’ll get it. You’re not lookin’ so good there yerself.”

It was probably the first time Will had ever showed her any genuine concern.

“I’m good, just get him checkout. I’ll be there in a bit.”

Will nodded and together, he and Robin helped pull Killian’s limp body out of the room. He’d given into his injuries not long after Neal had hit the ground.

“What were you thinking coming in here alone?”

She felt the guilt tug at her, watching the worry in Ruby’s face.

“I couldn’t wait for you guys.”

Ruby took a deep breath.

“When we get out of here you’re going to tell me everything, including how you found this place, and how you knew where we were going.”

Emma chuckled.

“Now, come on. We still need to find Elsa and clear the rest of the building.”

Emma laughed a little harder. She explained to Ruby that Elsa had been in on the whole thing, that she’d just been slightly more patient than Tamara. It wasn’t until she heard Robin on Ruby’s radio telling her that they were on the way to headquarters and had a medic on standby to check Killian out there, that she moved to stand.

Walking, even staying upright, was a struggle, and as they hit the top of the stairs, it all become too much, and Emma was forced to lean against the wall. It was too much, and she gave in, slide down the wall. Ruby gasped, finally catching on. Emma was certain that there was a smear of blood running down the wall above her.

“Oh my God. Emma!”

Ruby reached for her radio and immediately called for the paramedics. She’d felt that first shot, she knew that it had pierced something in her chest, but when the gun had gone off again, and Neal had fallen over, Emma’s resolve was focused solely on getting Killian to safety. She had blocked out the burning sensation, but eventually the adrenaline had worn off, and her organs had began shutting down. The black shirt had helped to conceal the wound long enough for Killian not to notice.

“Ruby, I need you to promise me something.”

“No. No. No. Don’t do that. Don’t make me promise you something over your deathbed.”

“Ruby.”

“Emma, stop it. You’re going to be fine!”

“Please Ruby. Just in case.”

Ruby was crying, something Emma had never seen her do before. She’d always been the emotional rock.

“He can’t know.”

“What?”

“Killian. He can’t know. He’ll blame himself.”

She thought back to Milah, to the night on Killian’s boat when he had told her of Milah’s death. Of the pain he had felt knowing that he was unable to save her, and how it still plagued him, even now. She couldn’t put him through that again.

“Tell him-” Breathing was a chore, and she was so tired. “Tell him I left. That I went undercover. Don’t tell him I’m dead.”

It would be better if he hated her. He could move on from that.

“No, You’re not dying.”

“Ru- Ruby- Please.”

Ruby’s tears turned into sobs, her body wracked with them, as Emma pleaded with her eyes.

“Okay, Ya, I promise.”

It would be better this way.

She felt her heart slowing in her chest. Her body no longer noticing the chill that had set in. Her lungs stopped filling with air, and finally her eyes fell shut. Black. Everything just went black.

[tamaharu]

💬💬💬 ... does it count for several quotes if i send one ask with three? Hmm... do three or one, your choice.

ohhh im always down for that hastag self spon

first one is a bmc story thats more or less discontinued but idk quite yet

second one is my sarah/katherine fic. context for why i like that section is because it was originally way worse but with perseverance i made it flow a lot better

last one is bc 1. i actually wrote all that section after my carpool so cruely abandoned me on a day i didnt have rehersal while i was walking home 2. it was my first piece for the fanbase and i think i actually did it justice for once! my first pieces are usually really really bad

Ever since he was a young kid, barely in preschool, Jeremy refused to sleep unless he had bed sheets covering everything below his mouth. He was afraid of the dark, and of clowns in the dark. (Reading It by Stephen King made him cry and fear and he wishes the two boyfriends in the story had both made it out alive)

After he and Michael became friends, he expressed this fear to the other boy, and Michael would just nod seriously, say “I’m here for you, Rosana!” and cuddle up to him under the sheets at sleepovers, because that’s what best friends did when they were young.

Jeremy stopped letting Michael cuddle with him as much once he hit puberty, but sometimes it was allowed if Jeremy was particularly frightened. All the frightening things he read (Boys and girls being snatched out of their homes and off their streets to never be seen again and death and death and death of others like him like girls who liked girls and girls who weren’t sure they were actually girls) and heard (Mom and Dad fighting fighting fighting about so much, too much, but quickly forgotten and breaking glass of wine bottles and conflicting shouts on how to fix him) caught up to him at night, when it was dark and he didn’t know what could happen. He let Michael cuddle those nights.

The only times he didn’t sleep without blankets in a certain way was the bad days.Jeremy never self-harmed in the traditional sense of cutting your skin open, he couldn’t handle pain well enough, but the night before the date that he had set to come out to his parents; the first four days after his mom leaving; so many nights after the Squip, way too many nights; and the night after Michael’s death and before his planting, he slept without bed sheets.

He was cold. Cold, so cold it hurt, for one aspect. Secondly, sleeping without sheets with a morbid fear of everything hurting you when sheet-bare, well, Jeremy was basically saying he didn’t care what happened to him, even if it was terrible, even if it was death. He couldn’t care less anymore. That was… Bad.

-

“Jack Kelly!” Katherine yelled at him, the people parting for her. “Get down this instance, holy shit!”“He won’t listen to me or Davey,” Crutchie complained from the right of her.“He’s insufferable,” she replied, voicing what they both thought. Crutchie said nothing, but she took that as an agreement.

“Hiii Ace!” Jack called from the fence. “How’s ya! Haven’t seen you’s all- haven’t seen you all night! All night, Kathy!”“Why haven’t you guys just forcibly pulled him down yet?” She asked, in lieu of an answer to Jack’s drunken badgering. There was a moment of silence before Katherine turned to look at David, who was looking like he thought he was the stupidest thing since Jack Kelly. She just sighed, marched forwards, grabbed his pant leg, and tugged him off. He groaned slightly, but a couple of people rushed to help him up.

She led him back into the condo and to the bathroom, where he promptly went and threw up in the toilet. The stairs were right next to it, so Katherine took a minute to herself to check them out again. Just like she suspected: empty. Jack Kelly had totally.. Cock-blocked? Clam-jammed? Dental dammed? There was a cliterference (haha)? Whatever. Katherine had felt the romantic and sexual tension between her and Sarah, and the whole fake-dating and him trying to climb a fence thing totally ruined it. Stupid Jack Kelly.

Once she heard the hurling putter to a stop for longer than two minutes, she pulled herself back into the room with him. He looked up at her, almost pathetically, and she understood it perfectly. Katherine helped him back to his feet, let him say goodbye to his friends, and left the party after forcing a water into him. They could eat later.

She felt like she had sobered up in the time between the staircase, and felt coherent enough to drive. Just in case, she went slow. The drive home was quiet, except for Jack’s groaning, and it was nice. It was definitely the type of end she expected from the party. At least now she and Jack could fake their break-up a few weeks later, and move on with their lives.

A ding from her phone at the red light compelled her to check it. It was an Instagram notification, saying that one Sarah Jacobs followed her. Katherine couldn’t help but smile.

-

“Cosmo Brown!”A high, clear voice rang out across the set, causing the man in question to look up from his work. The studio, Monumental Pictures, had been filming for Fool for Love for the past several days, and Mr. Brown (who resented being called that) had been holed up in his apartment or whatever studio room had a piano and wasn’t being filmed on for a little less than that. Kathy Seldman, a close friend of Cosmo’s and main actor for Fools had been hunting him down for the better part of thirty minutes.

Cosmo, head of the music department at Monumental, had been working on a few background scores that would play during the film’s “straight” sections and had been almost impossible to pin down. Between the changing of room for a particular instrument, frequent pacing for brainstorming, and him sneaking off from the studio for a change of scenery, anyone desperate for him would be run ragged.

Kathy Seldman had barged into the set after some directional advice from some young man who seemed to be attempting to become a new ‘Don Lockwood’, even if the true Don was impossible to recreate in every way. She had a good-natured smile on her face, though her body language looked to be read as cross. Actors.

She walked her way over to where Cosmo sat at his piano, a pile of handwritten sheet music sitting on it. His mouth was a straight line, but his eyes twinkled happily and his eyebrow was raised at her.

“Cos, where’ve you been? Me and Don haven’t seen you for days! Not seeing you at studio, sure, we’ve all been busy, but you haven’t been over in a bit. Have you been staying here, or with a friend?”“Now, that’s all wet! The floors are cold as all can be, Kath, with not even a female impersonator to keep me warm. Not to mention, you know full well I have no friends besides you and Mister Lockwood,” he teased. “I’m almost insulted. But I’ve been at my apartment and staying up late into the night to work on this monster of a song for that serious moment.”

Kathy tilted her head at him as gears clicked away in her head. Finally, she leaned over and placed her arms on the piano, sagging against it. “You have your own place? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you mention it.”Cosmo’s expression became a mixture of confused, exasperated, and an unidentifiable sour emotion. That might’ve been the wrong thing to say.

[blisserial]

Four

After my mother was taken, Granda edged toward madness. He refused to abandon his precious gardens. He continued to tend the herbs and orchard as though the estate had not overnight become both crypt and charnel house, as though the snow drifts, at mid winter, were not now up around our ears.

We were safe enough, I suppose. The people in the surrounding villages left the land alone, fearing either haunts or the taint of the king's disapproval.

That first winter, we grew hungry very quickly. The chickens in the small coop kept our bellies full for a hand's count of weeks, but they diminished steadily. I was still very young and Granda was in a state of black shock or fierce denial; he did not think to remind me not to slaughter the hens and soon we were out of eggs as well as meat.

We slept in the greenhouse beneath looming fronds, watched over by odd specimens of orchid and rose. The great house waited in silence, uninhabitable, mostly burned and become a morgue for those few the king's men had not forcibly enlisted.

Finally our hunger became so great that I braved the building, searching for small treasures to steal and sell. It was a mostly futile task. Very little of any worth had been left behind. Snow had snuck in through broken windows and doors, soaking furniture and ruining the tall damask curtains.

I dragged the ornate rugs through the front door and spread them as best I could about the green house, hoping they would dry clean.

In the scullery I found food in the form of yams and potatoes, smoked meat and canned beets. I also found Her Ladyship's ancient footman, sprawled face down on the packed dirt floor, arms spread like a bird in failed flight. There was no blood; his neck had been neatly broken. The cold had kept the pests away, mostly. But his eyes had run and his mouth gaped wide, white tongue desiccated.

I sat on my heels and watched him for a long time. I do not remember feeling sick or frightened. I do remember wondering if I would find my mother in a similar position, perhaps in an upstairs sewing room. For what use would the king put a delicate, flighty thing like our Rose?

I rifled the footman's pouch and discovered a few missed coins. After a moment of thought I stripped him of his coat and shoes, knowing they would bring a price at a cobbler's, so long as I was circumspect about their origins.

I took the shoes and the coin and as much food as I could bundle into the footman's coat, and left the house. I would not go back, after that, no matter how my Granda insisted. I did not want to find my mother, bones broken, mouth open to the world.

I sold the rugs to a gypsy three towns over, at a short price for their blackened edges. Even so, we inevitably grew hungry again and spring seemed very far away. Granda began to lose his teeth and my hair started to fall out in clumps.

Halfway through winter, the scent of smoke and fear still lingering in my nostrils, I went down the hill to the village called Derby in search of employment.

                                                         *****

Shaara relieved the drunken squire of his coin purse. The squire snorted and sighed and rolled over in the hall, but did not bother to wake up and defend his belongings.

Unhurried, Bliss's apprentice leaned against the wall between looming mirrors and carefully counted his treasure: four silver pennies and one slip of paper money. Not a bad find, all in all. And, as the squire was Shaara's fifth tag, the riches were pleasantly piling up.

Shaara pocketed the money, dropped the purse back onto the lad's chest, and walked on. He remembered similar parties from long ago. He remembered the scent of sugar and drink and wine and sex and vomit. In the south, they tried to cover the whole mess with pungent sandalwood incense. In the south, they were very sensitive about their noses, and always terrified of offending their gods.

Shaara grinned. He didn't believe in gods, not he. But if he did, he doubted the almighty spirits would have much interest in the reek of good mortal celebration gone on too long.

Dawn had come and the entire house was sodden or asleep, easy pickings. Shaara was mostly sure the old celebrations across the border had ended in much the same way. He was also mostly sure Bliss would have never sent him off to steal from a Southern host and his guests.

Then again, Shaara thought, pausing to adjust a dangerously crooked mirror, he had been a child then and maybe he just didn't recall clearly.

The door to Lady Alyce's dressing room was tightly locked. Shaara pulled a hammered copper wire from his belt and sprung the latch. He held his breath, said a small prayer to the gods he didn't believe in, then stepped over the threshold.

The room was, happily, empty.

He supposed Her Ladyship's maids had long gone to bed and, if luck were smiling, Bliss would keep Lady Alyce herself well entertained.

Shaara stood in the center of the carpet, exactly where Bliss had stood hours earlier, and turned slowly in place. The wall space was overly populated with chests and hooks and the occasional dress dummy. Fabric hung in swathes from the hooks and over the chests, pooling on the floor.

Shaara supposed it was a typical landed woman's fitting room. He eyed the tangle of jeweled neclacess tossed across the back of Lady Alyce's chair but left them. Bliss had been very explicit. Take only what would not be missed.

A spindled writing desk sat under a narrow window. Shaara crouched in the thin, dawning light and dug through top drawers. Nothing there but carefully flattened sheaves of vellum: correspondence, all personal and in a lady's hand, if Shaara was any judge.

He hesitated and then set the vellum aside.

Beneath the letters he found a small map of the southern coast, nicely drawn, beautiful in pen and ink and vibrant color. Shaara set the map aside as well. Pretty it was, but no merchant would pay good coin for possible treason. Besides, Maurice knew the lands across the border better than any other man living.

"Assuming Bliss doesn't duck out at the last minute," Shaara muttered to the room at large. He ignored the small voice in the back of his head when it whispered that perhaps it would be that much better if she did refuse to cross south.

The writing desk’s final drawer rattled as Shaara tugged it open. Inside it was deep and narrow, and so full of shadow that at first Shaara could not quite make out the details of its contents. He dipped his hand into the depths and discovered that the rattle belonged to a collection of small, smooth, rounded pieces of -

"Shell?" Shaara wondered aloud. He lifted a handful into the light.

Oyster shells, or clams. Buffed seamless and then painted over with small, carefully detailed portraits.

Baffled, Shaara let the first batch slide to the floor and reached into the drawer for more. Surely there were twenty of the delicate things, maybe twice twenty. In groups Shaara pulled them free and laid them out. Female faces, all of them; each young and ranging from ugly as a mule to groin-stirring beauty.

Shaara sat on his knees and spread his hands above the collection, hesitating. He had never seen the like before and he would bet all six of his precious juggling spheres the lovely little things were worth a good chunk of coin.

"Take them, man. For Horrid's sake, take them away."

Shaara jumped and whirled. The fellow standing in the doorway only shook his head.

"How many are there? More than you have time to count. More than I have heart to count. More than one life is worth."

Shaara wished he had convinced Bliss to let him bring his knife after all. But a peasant caught with steel on a landed estate was a dead man and the fellow in the doorway swayed where he stood, belching lightly. So perhaps Shaara was not about to lose a hand for thievery right this moment.

"What are they?"

"Dashed hopes, all of them." The man loped awkwardly into the room and bent to finger a piece of patterned cloth. "Desperation. The hook that bloodies my gills."

The fellow did look a trifle fish faced. Shaara wondered if he would puke on Alyce’s carpet. Then he decided he would rather not wait to find out and began edging toward the door.

"Take them, I said." The man dropped the cloth he had been examining. He pierced Shaara with a bright and surprisingly sober eye. “Good riddance."

Shaara put on his best boyish smile and pretended confusion. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean, milord. My mistress -"

"Bliss," the man interrupted. "Needs to see them for her self. And so she would have, if she'd bothered to show her guileful face about this morning as I'd requested."

Shaara darted a glance at the man's ringed hand and swallowed. "Lord Tamner."

"Since the day my father left his blood all over the Geen Hill sward. For king and for title." Tamner sounded pleasant but the sudden appearance of a pistol in his right hand belied his mild expression.

"Wrap them in your cloak and take them to your mistress. Do not let Lady Alyce see you've found her treasure. And get out of my house, the lot of you, heroes of Green Hill be damned."

Shaara unfastened his cloak and began scraping shell onto it with shaking hands. He kept his head down, not daring to peek back over his shoulder, but he could hear Tamner's harsh breathing. He imagined he could feel the eye of the pistol between his shoulder blades. Shaara might not be carrying steel, but a titled lord needed no excuse to murder any soul he wished under his own roof.

For all their apparent delicacy, not a single seashell cracked or chipped as Shaara wrestled them onto velvet and then tied his cloak shut. He turned, slowly.

Tamner's eyelids were drooping but his hand on the pistol remained steady.

"Go," His Lordship said.

Bliss had not raised her apprentice to be a fool. Shaara ran.

 "You might have killed her." Maurice rebuked. He shoved at the stable door with one foot. Apparently Tamner kept the hinges less than well oiled. The door swung smoothly, but not without a groan of protest.

"I might have," Bliss replied. "If I thought she'd aught to do with it."

A boy appeared along the row of stalls, torch flaring.

"Where's your master?" Maurice asked, genial. "I've a horse needs readying."

"Up at the big house," the boy said, eyes wide. "But I -"

Bliss knocked the child under the chin with more force than Maurice thought necessary.

"Bollocks, Bliss. You've broken his tooth." Maurice knelt to staunch the flow of blood.

"He'll live to brag." Bliss stomped out the dropped torch before fire could spread. "Hurry up. Pick your nag. A party this large and the stable lads will be thick as nits." She melted away. Maurice could hear the creak of leather above the music of restless and sleeping animals.

Sighing, he propped the unconscious stable boy against mounded hay and felt his way along the stalls. "What made you decide she'd naught to do with it?"

A horse whickered, soft. Bliss said, "Milady knew she had me by the tits, but she didn't know why. She didn't know so much as she pretended. She never said her name."

Maurice had not needed to tack up a mount in near pitch dark since his days as a youthful conscript. His hands remembered what to do. He silently thanked whichever lad had so neatly arranged the horse's tack on a bale outside the stall, stable master correct and perfectly cared for.

The horse herself, for she stank pungently of mare, appeared unconcerned. She rolled her eyes as he cinched her girth but took the bit in her mouth without any fuss.

By the time Bliss reappeared, leading a shaggy pony and nursing a bitten wrist, Maurice had two nicely turned out mounts on his arm.

"Animals," she said, succinct and disgusted. "Shaara's late."

"We'll wait." Maurice shushed his grumbling mare and glanced beyond the stable door at the clearing sky. The sun was beginning to make a solid appearance and soon all of the stable would be up and wanting breakfast.

They could not afford to wait.

"We move on. Shaara will find us," Bliss said, reading his mind. She led her pony forward, tossing a scatter of gold coins across the lap of the unconscious stable boy as she went.

A puny offering, Maurice thought as he followed after. Not nearly enough to make up for the stolen livestock. The lad would be lucky if he managed to hold onto his job, never mind escape a whipping.

Even so, as he urged the mare and the second horse - an excitable, farting bay - under the eves of the building, Maurice dropped his own rain of guilt money in near the door.

 They rode steadily, but not quickly. Shaara caught up half way down the hill. Out of breath and shivering, and soaked to the waist, still he smiled as he flung himself into the bay's saddle.

"Raided the kitchen," he reported, sharing out winter sausage and ripe pears.

The lad looked far too pleased with himself. Maurice bit into fruit and considered. "No hounds set on your heels?"

"Won't be." Shaara leaned across withers and passed Bliss the sodden remnants of his fine cloak. "A gift from milord."

Bliss arched dark brows but showed no interest in the dripping bundle. "Pleased to see us go, is he?"

“Very." Shaara fastened his juggler's pouch to a stirrup and relaxed into the saddle, arms crossed. He yawned. "Horses. Planning to travel a fair bit, are we, Bliss?"

Bliss regarded her apprentice. The boy refused to look up but his satisfaction was near palpable. Maurice held his breath.

Bliss turned away. Snow cracked under the pony's hooves, ice turning to slush as the sun rose higher.

"Yes," she admitted at last. "We're planning to travel a fair bit."

[fallen-gravity]

Family

Fandom: Moana

Category: Gen

Word Count: 1,786

Summary: When you’ve gone your entire life without either, it’s pretty easy to mix up your definiton of “friend” with your definition of “family”. 

But it’s hard, you come to realize, that sometimes, the two can perfectly blend together.

Notes: here’s a short one! a Tumblr exclusive, too. I was talking with @inkedinserendipity​, for about the hundreth time, about Maui and Moana’s relationship. What started out as me pitching “hey how do you think maui would react to moana nuzzling herself against him when she’s hugging him after a pretty long time segment of seperation because that’s one of the most affectionate gestures out there” spiraled in an ugly, downwards motion into icky, platonic fluff territory very quickly

and, like that conversation, so did this story

whoops.

When you’re down, or in a really sour mood about something, it’s your friends that you’re supposed to turn to, right? It’s your friends who are supposed to help heft you back onto your feet and make everything better again when you find yourself unable to lift yourself up and keep going?

Yeah, Maui decides. It is. Friends are supposed to support each other no matter what, and no matter how long it’s been since they’ve seen each other, right? Right.

So it’s with this decision that Maui finds himself soaring through the sky in the direction of Moana’s island. He’s been this way so many times he no longer needs to think about it, and is now able to let the wind and his own memory push him in the right direction. Because he really is in a sour mood, and he can’t seem to place why. He had been fine, minding his own business, when all of a sudden he was overcome with this sudden sense of bitterness and this sudden sense of loneliness. This sense had come to him so suddenly it had stopped him in his tracks, and just as suddenly he found himself reaching for his hook and taking to the sky to look for her.

Because if anyone could pull him from his own thoughts, to be the one to help him back on his feet again, it would be Moana. She’s someone he trusts, because he knows she will not judge him. She’s someone he can rely on. She’s someone he considers a friend, which is something he honestly can’t say he could consider someone since…well, ever.

He blinks away the sudden train of thought, to prevent it from spreading any further, and refocuses his attention back to where he’s going. He’s immediately met with the welcoming sight of Motunui’s lush, spiraling mountains, and can’t the smile spreading across his face as he speeds forward towards it.

For a few moments, he merely hovers over the island, observing its residents carefully in hopes that he’d be able to pick Moana out of the crowd. He doesn’t see her anywhere from where he’s hovering, and silently swoops downward to get a closer look. Still, as the large group of people wandering around the village becomes clearer to his sights, he finds that Moana is nowhere in sight, and he puffs out a quiet sigh.

Then, just as he’s about to give up and assume she must be out at sea on her canoe, realization comes to him, and he nearly rolls his eyes at himself for not coming to the conclusion earlier. Silently, he takes to the air again, and instead heads for the shore. He takes a look around, and it’s after only a mere few seconds does he spot Moana slowly walking around the shore. Occasionally she stops to twirl in a circle, and that’s when it comes to Maui that she’s probably humming some song to herself.

Typical.

Rolling his eyes, Maui does a flip in the air before diving down towards the beach below. It’s really only been about three weeks (or a month? Or two?) Since he’s last seen her, but this is Moana, his best friend, and to him, that’s already too long of a wait. He touches down on the sand, a few feet away from her, and waits for her to notice him.

He’ll never forget the first time he visited her. It still makes him laugh just thinking about it. The first time he touched down on the beach, it actually took her a minute to register what was going on. She had a friend with her, and the two of them had been walking along the beach. When she saw him, she gave him a cheery smile and had said “Hey!” like he was somebody she saw every day. She then kept walking, and after about a minute, she froze right in place. She then whipped around, tears building in her eyes, and flung herself at him so quickly it nearly knocked him off his feet. He had made fun of her for that, and he was going to poke further, but then Moana had pulled him closer at the sound of his laughter and mumbled to him through tears that she missed him, and something about the way she said it had left him completely clammed up and suddenly his arms were acting before his brain was and he found himself wrapping his arms around her to hold her back. Shortly after, he found himself muttering to her that he missed her too.

Maui forcibly yanks himself from the fond memory and forces himself to focus on the now. It should be any minute that Moana comes to her senses and sees him standing here, because-

“Maui!” he suddenly hears her call out cheerfully, and instantly any and all of the remaining loneliness dissipates at the sound of her voice. He turns to her and sees, with a start, that she’s a lot closer to him than he thought she would be. Before he can fully process how she had gotten from one side of the beach to the other so quickly, she flings herself towards him and throws her arms around his neck in a tight hug.

“I missed you so much!” She nearly singsongs, and Maui’s suddenly overcome with realization at just how long it’s really been since they’ve been together. He hugs her back, and at the gesture he feels her scramble in his arms to pull him closer. He tries to fight that warm smile he feels spreading across his face, he really does, but this is Moana, and he can’t help himself.

“Hah, looks like you missed me enough to actually recognize me this time” he says, and she snorts a quiet laugh.

“How many times do I have to tell you that’s not what happened?” She asks, and Maui rolls his eyes as he huffs out a quiet laugh in amusement.

“How many times do you expect me to come visit you?” He replies, and even though she’s pressed against him and he can’t see her face, Maui can tell she’s rolling her eyes at him. A long moment of silence passes between them after this, and for a moment he contemplates putting her down. Because as long as he’s willing to stay here, he assumes Moana is not, and shifts his arms slightly to place her back down.

Before he can, though, she does something that leaves him frozen in place. She leans her head against him, and for the briefest of seconds, she rubs her head against him, like she needs reassurance that he’s really there. Once she gets her wordless confirmation, she once again starts to scramble so she can hold him closer.

It’s almost funny, he thinks, as he still finds himself unable to move as Moana continues to hold him close, because the way she’s acting it almost seems like she’s reacting the same way she would after being separated for too long from a member of her own family-

And just like that, everything comes rushing to him so quickly he nearly makes himself dizzy.

He had been wrong, earlier, he realizes suddenly. It’s not your friends who are always there for you. It’s not your friends who are always sticking by your side and lifting you up when you’re down. Sure, they can, but Maui realizes with a start that they’re not usually the first you turn to. It takes some awfully deep digging, but Maui realizes that from his thousands of years of watching mortals from afar that it’s usually their families that they turn to first.

And it was instinct, he remembers, that brought him straight to Moana.

He sends a quick glance down at her, and suddenly, without warning, he finds that they’re back on her canoe, out in the open ocean. He’s teaching her to wayfind, and she’s eagerly copying his every move. And, although he had definitely noticed it before, Maui realizes he never had the word for that feeling causing the tightening in his chest when he watched her. It was pride.

Families watch over each other. Families protect each other. Families learn from each other and they display pride in each other’s achievements.

Families feel at home in each other’s company. When they’ve gone too long without seeing each other, he recalls, it’s usually with tears and with hugs that they reunite.

All at once, Maui realizes- all of this- all of these things that make someone a member of your family-  

Moana’s done every single one of them. She threw herself in front of Tamatoa when he was in danger and she managed to talk him out of a rut he found himself in for an entire millennium. She taught him things he never thought he’d need to know just as he taught her to wayfind. She showers him in the affection you only ever give to someone if they’re a member of your own family.

He blinks, and is suddenly very aware of the tears building in his eyes. He blinks again to get them to go away, before she can notice, and his vision blurs and instead of Motunui for a brief moment he finds himself on the shore of Te Fiti-

You can come with us, you know, her offer rings in her ear, and it’s for the first time he realizes that she was offering a home.

A home not unlike the one he opened for her in his heart.

He rips himself from his thoughts, and blinks again multiple times to clear the tears away from his eyes. He sends a quick glance down at Moana and hears his own voice whispering Tuafafine before he can even register that it’s coming out of his own mouth.

And he would’ve thought that Moana didn’t even register what he said, that she didn’t even hear him, for a moment after the word slips from his mouth, she says nothing.

But then he hears her sniff loudly, and she wipes at her face with one of her hands before returning it to its place behind his neck.

“Tuagane” she whimpers in response, her voice broken, and that alone is enough to break Maui’s composure entirely. With heavy tears pooling in his eyes and blurring his vision, he finds himself slipping to the ground onto his knees, and once on the ground he tugs Moana closer and buries his face into her shoulder.

Because it’s your family who can turn to when you need them.

It’s your family who can provide you a shoulder to cry on.

[gunsblazingdw]

Hot Chicks Are Trouble

Writers: @HocusPocusWitch & @GunsBlazing_

Storyline started April 7th, 2018

Callista: "Lock unlock", she whispered, one more glance around the shoddy exterior of the nondescript building confirming that she was indeed alone there. Immediately her nose wrinkled in distaste as the unpleasant scent of the aging, cheap motel room assaulted her as she opened the door. "Oh…..ick", the blond mumbled, disgust coloring her tone as she closed the weather worn door behind her. Leaving the door open would have been by far a much better choice. Maybe some fresh air could have at least dulled the reek that hung in the air as she stepped into the dark and musty motel room.  Clearly, this motel allowed smoking in the rooms, or had at one time and the smell still clung to the old draperies and furnishings. But seeing as she wasn't exactly expected and her methods of getting in might be thought questionable by some, she was just going to have to suffer through it.  If this flea ridden motel was indicative of the caliber of person she was looking for, she was definitely screwed.  Some balding, washed up loser with a paunch and smoker's cough wasn't going to hack it.  Callie sure as hell wouldn't be able to stomach him for long enough to have any success at all. If this was a wild goose chase, she knew a certain guy back in San Francisco that was in for a world of trouble for sending her there.

Hopefully the lousy choice in accommodations was to be blamed on the ridiculously remote location she had to trek to in order to track this Winchester guy down. Who knew what a guy like him was searching out up there in the California wilderness. Calling the area quiet was like, referring to the Pacific Ocean as a small pond. There wasn't much the town, if you could call it that, had to offer.  She wouldn't be surprised if this was the only place with rooms for rent for miles. Which made it even more pressing that she find this guy and high tail it out of there. It was just over a year and she felt as if she was finally right on the verge of tracking down Mackenzie once and for all.  The demon seemed to get off on tormenting Callie. There would be little clues that seemed so promising. Right up until she, once again, found herself dead-ended with no next move in sight.  It was completely unacceptable.  The more time that passed, the greater the chance that some kind of permanent mark would be left on Mackenzie once they rid her unwilling body of its nasty little inhabitant.

For a while the talented witch was convinced she could go it alone. Finding the demon would be a little tricky, but she had a lot of research under her belt, and with the power to back it she was confident she could banish the entity from her friend without any help. Of course if any of the other witches in her circle were there to participate, the spell would be that much stronger.  But their dysfunctional little unit had gone their own way some time ago. Besides, she didn't need them anymore. And it wasn't like she could just call up the others and arrange a little get together, now was it? No.  And when she did show up on their doorstep, it wasn't going to be to rekindle past friendships. There wasn't going to be any pouring out of past sins and bonding over chai lattes as they reminisced about what they once had. Fuck that. Paige and her little minions were to blame here. If they hadn't been so damned afraid of their own shadows and able to get down of their high horses long enough to assist in the spell, none of the events set in motion that night would have happened.

Not that they exactly knew the entire story on what transpired that night.  It sure as hell wasn't something she was going to be filling them in on.  They say confession is good for the soul. Maybe for some. The weak. Those people who have the ambition to strike out full-mast in pursuit of what they want, but who ultimately lack the necessary fortitude to see the game out until the very end. Maybe it's that they foolishly believe that with confession comes forgiveness. Like it was some kind of cosmic package deal. The big mistake is in the apology at all. In that misplaced want for forgiveness, whether given or taken. It wasn't a trap she was about to fall into. The last thing she wanted was to repent for crimes that weren't even her own. She wasn't the devil in this story. Even if she had set in place actions that brought that nasty little hell-spawn literally to her door.  There was no blood on her hands, not as far as Callie was concerned. Not yet, anyhow. Two wrongs might not make a right, but it sure made you feel a hell of a lot better than naïve complacency.

But that was a matter for another day. A few months back she had reluctantly resigned herself to the fact that she was going to need some backup on this. Someone who not only had real experience when it came to these things, but also someone with the connections to find out what they needed to know. A name, for one. Without the demon's name, she was pretty much stumbling around blindly in the dark, grasping futilely for something to hold on to.  What she knew would only take her so far. That, and she couldn't risk blowing this. The best shot for success here, all the way around, was someone like this Winchester guy. Or at least she hoped so. It seemed there were two of them. Brothers. All she needed was to convince one to help her. Just the hesitancy people displayed when asked about them was enough to make her think there was something to the rumors about them.  If it wasn't for her magically assisted powers of persuasion, chances were she'd still be trying to track them down.  It was more than a little annoying the way people clammed up at the mention of their names. And it was so transparent, the way they acted like they had no idea who in the world she could possibly be talking about.  Finally, though, she had waded through all of the bullshit and found them. Now all the effort had better be rewarded with a payoff.

Searching the small room was a thought that not only made her skin crawl, but it was unnecessary.  What she needed wasn't going to be found shoved under the bed or hidden in the back of the closet wedged into a dark corner. As much as it pained her to even think it, she needed the real deal, which was the hunters themselves. It was one of life's necessary evils. Apparently they were way too busy to be bothered when you had a message relayed, so the only solution was to make it so that a meeting was unavoidable.  Seemed to her that they were going to have to see her now. Since it was crucial they all survive this meeting, she positioned herself right out in the open.  If she had simply waited to ambush him outside as he made his way to the door, it would be easy for him to dodge her. She'd have to become aggressive, and Callista was kind of hoping to avoid that right up front. Not that she expected a warm welcome when he found her in his room, but it was much more likely that he'd actually listen to what she had to say this way. They weren't fond of her kind. Short of forcibly removing her from the room, they were going to be stuck with her.  And she sure as hell wouldn't make that easy on them, even if he did try.  Which, if they were old and run down by years of self-inflicted abuse, well that wouldn't be so hard.

It was painfully slow, the way the minutes ticked by. There was a known risk that it could take hours for the Winchesters to materialize, but this was something that had to be done. Honestly, there weren't a whole lot of other options open to her right then. If she had to stay there all night, so be it, though she sincerely hoped it wouldn't come to that. The last thing she wanted was to have to sit down anywhere in that room, something that would be hard to avoid the longer she was forced to wait.  Callie stood at the far side of the room, placing the bed and a shabby looking dresser with a television that appeared to be from the 70's between her and the door.  Gazing in that direction, her thoughts wandered back to that fateful night.  The memory of Mackenzie's face the very moment it happened was etched into her mind.  The ghostly grey flames they had used to invoke the power they needed burst into a brilliant crimson blaze before it suddenly extinguished without any direct contact from either woman standing there. The laugh that erupted from her friend sent a chill along her spine. Things got a little fuzzy after that, but it was clear what had happened. And later when she came to on the cold forest floor, Mackenzie was nowhere to be found.

The events of that night haunted her, the scene replaying in her mind both while she was awake and in a far more macabre fashion when she closed her eyes at night. Along with the nightmares her subconscious embellished, there were those odd times when she was certain the demon was toying with her. The glimpses of her friend and fellow witch that came to her at night felt strangely real at times. Like…..well placed taunts meant to torment her. It didn't happen often at first, but lately they seemed to be increasing.  Sometimes it would just be a few words spoken in a familiar voice. Other times she witnessed pieces of things she wished she could forget.  It was the former that jolted her awake when her weary eyes closed long after she'd been standing there in that spot, leaning against the wall behind her.

/Find me now, bitch./

Tawny brown eyes flew open, but it was the only movement she made. Inside of her chest Callie's heart pumped furiously, a knocking sound she could hear loud in her head. If it hadn't been for the hyper alert state that was a side effect or her rude awakening, she might have missed the subtle sound of footsteps outside. Her eyes darted to that sliver of light that crept in under the door, the dingy glow coming from the light right alongside the entrance. The words in her head, real or imagined, were tucked away in light of more pressing matters. Something blocked the light, confirming the sound she was sure she'd heard. Seconds later the lock she had engaged once inside turned, and in walked who she would assume was one of the Winchesters.  It only took seconds for him to spot her, and his entire body tensed. Looking him over, she forced herself to remain completely relaxed and unmoving. Well, she'd been wrong about the chubby older guy with a bald spot and cigarette stained teeth, that was for sure. This guy was a lot easier on the eyes than the one she imagined. Now, would he prove helpful?

Dean: -He'd finished up a haunting earlier and had celebrated at the local bar. Sammy was off handling another case a few states over so he didn't have to justify why he'd drank damn near a whole bottle of Grey Goose to anyone. Feeling no pain he unlocked the hotel door and walked in. Door shut and he looked up, even seriously drunk Dean was always in hunter mode. Leans over and flips on a light then pulled his jacket off laying it on the end of the bed.- Well darlin' I don't remember you being at the bar and by the looks of you, this ain't your town... -Slowly he reaches back and draws the Colt 1911 that had once been his father's. Gun in hand he stood there feet spaced a part with the gun resting against his thigh.- If it makes a difference... right here, right now I'd rather make love not war. So what can I help you with?

Callista: There were a few things that she had learned about the Winchesters in searching for them. Some of those things might prove useful, some might not. What immediately became clear though was that the tales about one of them having a weakness for the opposite sex were not just embellished rumors. If she had to venture a guess, she was face to face with Dean Winchester. Something else he seemed fond of was vodka, judging by the way she could smell it from where she stood. Seeing as her preconceived ideas on his appearance had been very wrong, the idea of what he was suggesting wasn't exactly repulsive.

Once upon a time she may have even taken him up on that offer, even. But that wasn't what she was there for. Still, that didn't mean she couldn't use her advantages to her benefit here. Callie straightened up slowly, giving off an air of cautiousness even though she could have disarmed him before he ever saw it coming. Holding her hands up, palms facing him, she gave the appearance of someone suitably frightened when facing a man with a gun. Well, someone without her particular skills, anyway."I'm not here for trouble, really. I need your help. I'm hoping you're one of the Winchester brothers?"

Dean: -Eyes critical as they watched her, either they were getting sloppy or she was pretty good at tracking. He kept his jun right where it was though.- I'll bite. If I /were/ a Winchester, what is it you need help with? You seem capable, I mean you broke into my hotel room and have enough balls to sit here and wait for me to walk in, not everyone would do that.

Callista: The simple fact that he didn't refute being who she was looking for told Callie that she was most likely right. If he hadn't been either Sam or Dean, he would have reacted differently to hearing an unfamiliar name. That he didn't make a move to put his weapon back where it came from meant he might be drunk, but he sure as hell was on guard. Something told her that intoxicated or not, he could handle himself if it came down to it.

Or, that would be true if he was up against someone less defenseless than she just naturally was.

Fortunately for him she wasn't interested in trouble, she was looking for help. Typically patience wasn't a strong suit for her, so the temptation to whisk the gun away was strong. Callie resisted because she wasn't ready to let him know that she was a witch. Hunters weren't typically welcoming  of her kind. They could be a little bit judgmental, truth be told.

"I'm not sure it's…..balls, as you so crudely put it, or just desperation. If you were a Winchester. Dean, is it?", she said, voicing her guess and relaxing her stance. "I need your help finding someone.  And before you say missing person aren’t your thing, this is different. Very different."

Dean: -He took a seat on the edge of the bed still holding his gun.- Alright you got my attention. Explain "very different".

Callista: She took a slow breath. It had been a while since Callista had spoken to anyone about Mackenzie. But like he said, she had his attention. Now she needed to not only keep it, but get his help.

With a sigh she took a seat in a beat up chair that she turned enough to be facing him when she sat.

“Very different, as in.....a demon possessing your best friend and disappearing.”

Dean: -He was listening but he had no idea what she knew or how reliable she was.- What’s makes you think your friends possessed? -Tucking his gun away giving her a pensive frown.-

Callista: At least the gun was put aside. It was a step in the right direction. Now to answer his question without giving herself away. What she needed was him to be sympathetic to her situation, not suspicious of what landed her there in the first place. Looking down at her feet Callista took a slow breath. It wasn't hard to appear distraught at the memory, seeing as it was one of the more traumatic things she'd been through.

"I….saw her afterward."

It wasn't something you forgot, seeing your best friend being controlled by something else. Her hands twisted together as she spoke, slowly looking back up at him.

"I've had a year to research, and now I know it was a demon. The way her eyes went completely black. The way it was her body, but it wasn't her anymore. I have to find her. I have to save her."

Dean: -He listened, he knew first hand what it was like. When Sammy had been possessed and nearly killed him and Jo it had been rough. He leaned forward and rested his forearms on worn jeans. Hand's folded he gave her a concerned look.- I can't promise you that if we find her that I can save her... Demons are a son of bitches. They ride human's hard they give a damn if they die etc... And even if I can get it out of her, she's not going to be alright mentally even if her body isn't to badly damaged. Demon's get off making the host suffer. I'm gonna need all the information you can give me about her, last known location... -Thinking he stand's running a hand through his hair.- Do you have something of her's? Like something personal? Hairbrush or maybe a piece of jewelry she wore a lot etc?

Callista: Callie nodded as he spoke. She was familiar with all of the nasty little side effects that went along with evicting a demon, thanks to all of her research. A part of her was hoping that he might tell her differently, being more of an expert with hands on experience than she was. Mackenzie was a talented witch, but she had no idea at all if that would offer her any sort of protection from the thing inside of her. Still, not trying wasn't an option.

"I do have something", Callie confirmed when he asked if there was something personal she had. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out an amethyst pendant suspended from a thin silver chain. It was a talisman, something each of the witches from the coven they once belonged to had. Callie's was a ruby that still hung around her neck.

The talismans were uniquely matched the sign the witch was born under and bound them as a coven. If anything could lead to her friend, this could. But Callista had exhausted everything she could think to try and so far nothing had worked.

"This was hers", she said, handing it over as she stood. the sign the witch was born under and bound them as a coven. If anything could lead to her friend, this could. But Callista had exhausted everything she could think to try and so far nothing had worked.

"This was hers", she said, handing it over as she stood.  

Dean-The delicate necklace of amethyst hung from his fingertips and his hand curled around it.- I am not as proficient in tracking spells as my brother is but I'll give it a shot. If it happens I cannot perform the spell then we'll have to find someone who can. I'm better with guns and blunt force trauma. -Lifting the flap on his front shirt pocket he deposited the necklace into it.- I need some things from the car. Do you mind cleaning the table off? -It was cluttered with takeout boxes from dinner earlier. Dean turned toward the door and walked out into the cold night air. 

He took out his phone and made a call to @TheTelepathOne when it went straight to voicemail he left a message. "Sammy I've got a case and it's above my pay grade. Get your ass to the Blue Moon Motel in El Paso, Texas. Room ten." -Hanging up he popped the trunk and lifted the bottom cover up to gather the necessary supplies. Since Bobby's passing Dean had taken a lot of gear from the older hunter which was how he had ended up with the pendulum set up he'd used to track Lilith with. Gathering two gear bag's with the supplies he slung it over his shoulder and headed back inside but not before taking a glance around out of habit. 

Being paranoid had kept him alive more than once. Once inside he unzipped the bags and took out a map, smoothing it out over the table he put a couple of beer bottles on the edges to keep it flat. Taking the brass pendulum out he set it up in the center of the map and adjusted it. Then sitting a matching brass bowl tot he side he pulled out his hunting journal looking at the ingredients list. Taking out a small vintage medical carrying case for vials. It was worn from the years of use but very handy. Opening it up tiny vials labeled with various ingredients for spells lay there. One by one he measured out the each with precision.-