#she just wanted a Snack and now she’s bent over a log in the woods with her dress pulled up 😡

[ceilidho]

pretty little witch who lives in a cottage in the forest who sometimes eats wayward travellers but Ghost has some kind of magic repulsion aura or something that doesn’t allow her to use her powers on him :((( and she only finds out when trying to ambush him

[misumeaw-blog]

13 Days 13 Fanfics | Counting down Albedo’s Birthday

Pairing : Albedo x GN! Reader 

Genre : Fluff | Established relationship

Warning : None

Word count : 1,699 words 

note : I can die peacefully now, I believe the entire family can hear me screaming. Day 13 will be based on Albedo's mail. I suck at kissing btw, sooo I tried

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Day 12 Moment of Birth Part 1: Midnight

Light from houses in the city of freedom starting to turn into darkness; but not all, liveliest place in the slumbering city in the lake still filled with drunkards and music from the bard. Angel share, is night-active with drinks and socializing drinkers.

You have a meeting with your friends to discuss what to give Albedo for his birthday, Although..

 

“You guys seriously haven’t kissed yet? It’s been nearly a year”

things seemed going in the completely wrong direction “Shhh quiet please, Captain Kaeya. It’s not a big deal, I understand he wanted to take things slow” Still, there are times where you yearn for more than hugs and pecks on your face.

“Our Chief Alchemist has really taken your advice Too well, Kaeya” Lady in purple attire and a large witch hat, decorated with roses spoke up “That little genius never opened up for this sort of relationship” eyepatch man took another gulp to his mouth “I’m still surprised you managed to make him fall for you”

“Kaeya, rude” lightly zapped the one-eyed captain before turning to you “If he doesn’t make the first step, you’d need to do it” she placed her finger on your lips “Alright, alright, stop everyone” you harsh your friends before things getting out of hand “I just wanted a piece of advice on what to give Albedo for his birthday, so how did this turned to-“ Yup, that sparked your idea.

 

Both Knights of Favonius glanced at each other then back to you “Do you still need our help?”

 

The following morning you knocked on the Acting Grand Master’s room “Come in” an assertive voice flew out from the wooden door “Good morning, Master Jean. Do you know where Klee is?” “Good morning, I think she’s by the lake near Wolvendom. Oh and if you’re going to meet her, please make sure she doesn’t explode all the fish” she spoke without looking at you, eyes on massive amounts of paperwork

“One other thing, Acting Grand Master. I would be greatly appreciated if you kindly grant Albedo’s leave on his birthday” you figured your boyfriend might need a day off, in case he wanted to spend time with you and Klee “Oh right, his birthday is approaching” she glanced at the calendar “Yes of course, please do send him my regards if I couldn’t inform him myself” Closing the door after thanking her, ‘alright, off to Wolvendom’ you recalled your plan

 

Explosions can be heard from afar, the little girl should be nearby. Fish flying out in the sky, big splash easily visible. A small girl in red clothing having fun tossing bombs into stilled water. You called for her and she turned around “Y/N! Klee missed you” red coat sprinting to you, hugging you as soon as you’re in her reach By now she sees you as another sibling, despite you’re actually dating her brother. “Having fun today mh Klee?” glancing at the amount of dead fish on the ground “Yup! The kind uncle at the fishing asso..asso..” “Fishing association?” “Yes! the fishing association told Klee there’s a bunch of new fish all over Mondstadt, Klee will blast them all” You know fishing normally is better for the fish, but you let it slide for her happiness “Hey Klee, I have to borrow your brother the day before his birthday; well, tomorrow, is that alright?” You crouch down to the little girl’s height “Aw, but Klee wanted to be with big brother Albedo..” “I know Klee, but by that time you would be asleep. Would you like to help me prepare snacks for Albedo then?” “Yayy, Klee wanna help!” “Alright, keep it between us m’kay?” Holding out a pinky finger for the young one to hook with hers

 

‘And to keep Albedo busy..’ You head to the fountain plaza to one of your boyfriend’s assistants, Timaeus. “Morning Timaeus, do you know where Sucrose is?” A bit weird to start a conversation about her, since you and Sucrose don’t really get along “Sucrose? I’m not sure. Do you want me to help find her?” “No, no no no, uh, Timaeus, I need you to help distract Albedo tomorrow, mild difficulty experiment, anything” “Is that all? All Right” Scholar alchemist agreed to lend you a hand “Thanks, Timaeus”

    You headed off to your next destination ‘Alright, time for a hard part’ the last part of your plan is rather hard, you wondered if he gonna help you

 

 

“Mark it as done!” wow that was.. easy, perhaps it’s because of three high-quality bottles of wine in his hands. You asked.. or rather, hired anemo bard to play songs for the night and extra requested to let the wind carry the song to you.

In the evening, you have scouted the area you wanted to give the alchemist your gift and found the perfect place. An area where you can see both the city of freedom and the icy summit, high enough for the gentle breeze to flow, beautifully decorated with flowers and greenery. Starsnatch cliff, also the home of the flower which held meaning, the truest feelings of prodigal son, Cecilia.

 

The next day everything went according to plan. Light meal fully prepared with the help of the pyro girl, Timaeus kept Albedo busy so he couldn’t come home and caught you and Klee in action.

Quite late night when you knocked on Alice’s door, the blonde, still in his usual attire opened to greet the unknown guests. “Y/N? What are you doing here this late hour?” Judging from the angle of the moon, it's around 9-10 PM “Hey, what about me?” eyepatch covering male’s hand and he placed his elbow on the opened door, the alchemist only nodded to his presence “Evening Bedo, I would like to show you something, could you come with me please?” you don’t normally use the formal language after being with him for so long. He can sense your shyness from the way you speak and your body language “I’d love to go but Klee..”

You pointed to the man behind you “Don’t worry about little Klee, just go enjoy your time” he basically dragged the alchemist out of his house

 

 

Chitchat along the way, fingers intertwined with his “Not sleepy yet aren’t you?” you bent down and look at him in the eyes “Not at all, I’m rather excited about what you prepared for me” giggled to his answer “Good, 'cause the night is still young!” you have reached your destination, Large fabric covering the grassy ground, a basket filled with snacks lies atop, along with a flower vase to decorate the scenery. Log of wood has bags and books resting against it. The wind bringing the scent of white flowers and the tune of the harp. Moon and star shining bright, needlessly of other light sources.

“Didn’t know you had anything romantic in mind” he teased your boldness “..well, what do you think?” hiding your embarrassment and teases the alchemist back

Sitting down to the location you prepared, he started to examine the scene “There’s no musician nearby, nor to any instruments.. Am I the only one hearing the melody?” Trying to find a scientific explanation for a strange event “The wind carries messages. Was music not a kind of message too?” He wrapped his arms around your waist, drowning in the love you gave him

“Enjoying it hmm? Here, I prepared some light food for us” slowly getting plates and snacks out from the weaved basket, the fabric is soon filled with various types of dishes "You’re not gonna sit on your seat?” his arms tightened, head bury to your shoulder “..I don't want to move” it’s rare seeing him clingy to you like this “you’re adorable you know” finally commented on his action

 

“We got your favorite,” one of your dishes has turned to Albedo’s favorite “These are canapés, I chose bread base, topped with different types of savory” bite-sized dishes, you know he prefers smaller portions

Pointing to each topping one by one, explaining what each one is made of. In his eyes, you’re like a professional chef

“Bedo, check this one out” you pulled out Fisherman’s toast with clover ketchup, onions, cheese, and heart-shaped parleys “..Fish-Flavored Toast, Klee’s specialty. You’re so thoughtful, I have to thank her later” he pecked your cheek, definitely in love

“And we got desserts- after savory alright Bedo?” His hand was already reaching for the dish, you have to stop his fast hand Brownies, Berry Mille-Feuille, and a jar of chocolate chip cookies are all making him drool “Shall we dig in?” He suggested, perhaps the desserts engaging him.

Your hypothesis was turned down after seeing him having a high appetite for savory, you figured he actually wanted to savor your cooking

 

Hours passed and you both are finally full, cuddling against the wooden log, enjoying the melody floating in the air. His platinum hair reflects the elegant moonlight, half-lidded eyes resting against your neck, handheld on yours. You looked up in the sky- its almost time

“Albedo?” He replied with a sweet hum, glancing up at you “Do you know what day is tomorrow?” “..my birthday. but I still don’t understand why you chose to celebrate it tonight” “Wouldn’t be nicer to receive a gift directly after the clock strikes midnight?” Lifted his chin to face you, he’s so close to you, closer than usual

Both yours and his cheek painted rosy, he cupped your face and look deeply into your eyes. “was all this not my birthday gifts?” “nope.. would you like to find out what it is?”

 

Moon motions overhead, the clock strikes midnight, soft breeze touched exposed skin, the sound of the harp soaring in the sky. stars as the witness, Cecilia as the oath, feelings as vow sealed between the two bodies.

Hand slide by the side of his neck, placing on the backside and pulled him closer, half-lidded eyes slowly closed, chest-pounding hard, tilted your head to the side a little-

sweet lips finally placed on his loving ones, passionated and full of affection, butterflies flying in your stomach. After a while, you break the timeless kiss

“Happy birthday my beloved Albedo”

[donttouchmeimwriting]

Argo ch. 1

Friday the 13th - Friendship/Romance - Jason Voorhees/OC M/M ship

2897 words, 3rd person POV

This is not following canon closely at all and I'm kinda blending bits of Jason's personality between original movies, the remake, and fan versions so this is pretty solidly AU. I hope you enjoy!

Cross-posting on FFN under PyroTheWereCat

There was no pleasure in killing. It was a task, like any other, but one that had to be done adequately. Even if it took several tries and the body was mangled by the end of it, the life had to be gone from their eyes.

"We can't have them coming back to hurt us, can we?"

Mother was right. Mother was always right. She was the only one who cared. She was the only one who knew kindness. It was her idea and her decision to take revenge against the wicked counselors of Camp Crystal Lake, and what she wanted, she would get.

She had nearly died herself trying to punish the ones responsible for her son's drowning, and so the pair needed to live in hiding, deep in the woods surrounding the camp. It took over ten years of teaching and training, but it was finally time. Mother knew best, and Jason Voorhees was willing to serve her every command.

Four years ago, Jason began his killing spree. He picked off the counselors one by one, catching each in a deadly infraction. He worked carefully at first, making the disappearances look like believable shirking of duties or horrible accidents. That year, authorities ruled the camp could reopen for the next season with some extra safety precautions. Jason was praised so lovingly that year.

The second year, Jason continued his streak, but allowed himself to get a little sloppy. The murders were attributed to one of the staff members, and no one was the wiser to his presence (or, more importantly, his mother's). The camp was forcibly closed for the following season, and Jason's mother prayed it would stay closed and they could be free of the evil of the counselors who knew no compassion.

But, as an investigation cleared the camp of outside interference, further cementing the falsely accused staff member as the murderer, Crystal Lake reopened for another season, forcing Jason out of hiding once more. He did not want to go back, having enjoyed the peaceful summer with his mother last year, but he knew he had a job to do. He dusted off his mask, sharpened his machete, and set out for Camp Crystal Lake once more.

This year already felt different for Jason. Perhaps it was the time off, or perhaps he was growing tired of killing, but this year he decided to approach things in a different way. He spent the first two weeks of camp watching from the shadows, identifying the counselors and their habits. There were eight of them: four men, four women. Their ages were uncertain, but it seemed the youngest was about seventeen and the oldest was about twenty-five, the majority being roughly twenty-one. College age, Mother had said, was the worst age for most folks. Leftover rebellion from their adolescence and newfound freedom created a sinful breeding ground for debauchery and cruelty that needed to be punished. Jason was of this age now as well, and he had promised to not let himself lose sight of his task.

During the weeks Jason watched the camp, he noticed a few important details. First, he noticed that ghost stories about the murders he and his mother had committed were being told at nightly bonfires, embellished to near supernatural lengths. This excited Jason to some degree, seeing that his hard work had noticeable impact years later. Second, he noticed there were no hikes on the outer trails and strict curfews were imposed on both the campers and the counselors, keeping the grounds barren between the hours of 9PM and 7AM. This rule would make Jason's work difficult if he planned on making any of these deaths appear accidental, but he could improvise if needed.

The third detail, and the most curious of all, Jason noticed that out of all eight counselors, one stood out as unique. The first distinctive feature was that he was shorter than the rest of his coworkers, somewhere close to five feet tall. Jason almost mistook him for a camper at first, but the back of his shirt clearly read 'COUNSELOR'. What truly set him apart from the rest, however, was how attentive he was to the campers. He made sure every voice was heard and no one felt left out. He kept a bright and supportive demeanor no matter the circumstances, and helped the campers with every activity. Furthermore, he did not seem interested in sneaking off to sacrifice his job duties in favor of more lecherous behavior. Jason found himself growing fascinated with this counselor, and opted to watch him a little more closely to see if he had any damning secrets that would confirm his impending death with the rest.

Another week dragged on, and Jason regrettably had lost track of time. He followed this seemingly kind counselor as he engaged the children in their activities and lent a listening ear to those who had problems or concerns. What could he be hiding? Mother was certain that anyone who took a job at this camp was a bad person, and Mother was always right...right?

"Alright, everyone!" the strange counselor called one morning, catching the attention of his group, "It's Friday tomorrow, and that means s'mores night!"

He allowed for a brief cheer from the kids before quieting them down again to continue,

"S'mores are really nice, aren't they?" Whoops and words of agreement rose from the group. "Do we agree that nice kids deserve to have nice treats?" More affirmations rang out. "That's right! But it's come to my attention, as well as the other counselors, that there's been some of you who haven't been as nice as they should be."

Jason leaned forward from his seated vantage point on a log, listening curiously to the counselor's teaching moment. Would he punish the whole group of kids for a minority's bad behavior? Would he revoke s'mores privileges? Would he try to drown some of the children in the lake? That last one was unlikely, but the thought still crossed Jason's mind. The counselor continued,

"Here at Camp Crystal Lake, we value honesty, teamwork, and what else?"

"Accountability," the children chorused.

"Exactly right," he praised, "And if one of us is being picked on, it's up to the rest of us to help them feel included, right?"

"Right!"

The counselor clapped his hands together, smiling kindly at the group.

"I don't want anyone to feel like they're in trouble, so we're gonna make this into a game, okay?" he proposed, "We're all detectives looking for clues on whodunnit. We have to solve the mystery of who's being a bully and have them apologize by tomorrow night, or all the s'mores will have to go away until next week. Does that sound fair?"

"Yes," the kids answered, somewhat anxious now that the promised snacks might be withheld.

"Awesome! Here are the rules of the game: you can't force someone to give you a clue if they don't want to. That would defeat the purpose of the game! You also can't point any fingers until the bonfire is lit tomorrow night. If the person who was mean wants to come forward on their own, they have to come to me or one of the other counselors so it doesn't spoil the end of the game. Once the person is revealed, they have to apologize to the person they hurt and will spend the weekend making it up to them because, here at Camp Crystal Lake, we want everyone to have a great time. If one of us isn't having a good time, we all have to work together to help them so we can leave here at the end of the summer with the best memories and the best friends. So let me hear it from you guys: are we ready to go out and have a great day?"

The kids burst into another round of cheers and the counselor shepherded them off to their first activity of the day. Jason propped his elbow on his thigh and rested his chin in his hand. He frowned in contemplation. This counselor was so dedicated to the kids...could he be an exception? Could Jason's mother have been wrong? He would have to catch this counselor alone to find out more. He still had plenty of time to dispatch the whole staff, he figured, so he had the time to learn what he could about this one counselor.

Jason stalked the counselor over the next few hours, watching him be the perfect role model for the kids as usual. Finally, sometime near midday, the counselor took a break after passing his group to another and announced he was going to check the nearest hiking trail for debris before he took the kids on it later. One of the female counselors offered to walk with him, and Jason detected signs of flirtation in her body language, but he refused, claiming it would be a short trip. Jason felt his heart beat faster with anticipation, following him just out of sight as he walked the trail, moving any large sticks or rocks from the path. Jason flexed his fingers on the hilt of his machete, wondering if he should kill him now despite having no evidence yet that he was a bad person. He resolved he would wait until they were far enough away from the camp where screams would not carry, then he would decide.

The counselor moved at a brisk and energetic pace, enjoying his time alone. He seemed so full of life and vigor...Jason almost felt bad that he was planning on murdering him. The counselor stopped at a fallen branch blocking the path and looked it over, his hands on his hips.

"That's a big one," he commented to himself, "I hope I can get it out of the way on my own."

With that he bent down to lift one end of the branch, stepping backwards to drag it off the trail. From Jason's position, he could see another, smaller branch on the ground behind the counselor, twisted and gnarled, but big enough to pose a hazard. Jason watched as the counselor caught his foot on the hidden branch and tumbled backwards, rolling through the leaves and sticks as he fell down the slope. He went over a slanted rock near the bottom and crumpled on the other side of a rotting log, his ankle caught in a hole in the log. Jason slowly approached, minding his steps down the slope so he would not fall as well.

The counselor grunted in pain as he pushed himself up on his elbows and attempted to free his leg from the log. He had dirt on his face and debris in his hair and, as Jason drew closer and could see more clearly, cuts and scrapes all over his arms and legs. Unsuccessful in his attempts, the counselor fell back on his elbows, breathing hard. He craned his neck to look over the log, having heard the approaching footsteps, and his eyes met Jason's, mere feet away.

"Oh my gosh, you startled me!" he greeted, "Thank goodness someone else was on the trail! I'm okay, by the way, I'm just a little stuck. Can you help me out?"

Jason froze as the counselor addressed him. Oddly enough, he didn't seem afraid, despite Jason's hulking stature, out of place hockey mask, and freshly sharpened blade in hand. He tilted his head to one side, puzzled. He hadn't been this close to another person (aside from his mother) in almost two years, but he distinctly remembered every person he had been this close to fearing him on sight. He looked down at his machete, wondering what was holding him back from stabbing this man and walking away. It was all so easy before...

"Ooh, yes, you came prepared!" the counselor said, noticing the machete as well, "If you're careful, you can probably hack around the opening so I can get my foot loose. If you want, I can get you some free food back at camp for helping me out. It's not much, but Miriam makes a mean chicken salad."

He smiled up at Jason, and Jason felt his heart stop for a moment. There was not a single flicker of fear in the counselor's eyes. All he could see was the same gentle expression shown to the kids back at camp. An unfamiliar feeling came over Jason and, for the first time in years, he felt compelled to help. He raised the machete, his eyes focused on the counselor's trapped leg. His breathing hitched, one part of his mind urging him to kill as Mother instructed, the other begging him to show mercy, just this once. He glanced back at the counselor's face, at that warm smile, and made his choice.

The machete swung down and struck the wood of the log, sending a spray of splinters into the air. The counselor winced, shielding his eyes from the shower, and tried to wiggle his leg loose.

"Still a little stuck," he announced, "I think one more whack on the other side oughta do it."

Jason wrenched the blade out of the wood and swung again on the other side of the counselor's leg. As predicted, the counselor was able to maneuver himself out of the weakened structure. He brushed the splinters and dirt off of his skin and shakily stood up, clearly in some pain from the fall.

"Thank you," he said to Jason, his smile returning, "Really, I would have been in some trouble if you weren't here, so thanks a lot. My name's Lijah."

He extended a hand to Jason to shake, but Jason was too caught off guard by his own response to the situation as well as Lijah's genuine friendliness to return the gesture. Lijah lowered his hand, unfazed by the lack of reaction.

"Not a talker, huh? That's okay," he noted, then became visibly nervous, "Oh, cripes, I'm sorry, are you deaf?"

He made some strange hand movements with that last sentence, gesturing to Jason and to his own ear. Jason shook his head, slowly coming out of his confusion.

"Ah, gotcha," Lijah said, relaxing, "That works for me. I'm not very good at signing."

He laughed at this, and Jason felt a pang of....something. Lijah's laugh was light and pleasant sounding...it reminded Jason of dappled sunlight through trees. He couldn't explain it, but he wanted to stay near Lijah for a while longer.

"In all seriousness, what is your name?" Lijah asked, "I'd like to know who my hero is."

Hero. That wasn't a word Jason thought would ever be associated with him, but it felt surprisingly good to hear Lijah call him that. He looked around himself for a moment, then up the slope at the trail. He motioned for Lijah to follow him and made his way up to the flatter part of the forest floor. Lijah had some slight difficulty following him, being so much smaller and having mild injuries, but he made it up the slope all the same. Jason waited until Lijah had caught his breath and stood next to him. He held his machete out to the ground and drew the letters of his name into the dirt. Lijah read the name aloud once he had finished and looked up at Jason brightly.

"Jason!" he chirped with delight, "Like the Argonaut in Greek mythology!"

Jason tilted his head, frowning. His mother had told him many stories as he grew up, but they were all from the Bible. He wasn't familiar with the character Lijah was referencing, and Lijah could see his bewilderment.

"He's a hero in his story," he explained, "well, for the most part. He goes on adventures with his crew and they see and do all kinds of amazing things together."

Jason nodded, liking the sound of this hero with the same name as himself. And the fact that he was not entirely virtuous...that struck a chord with him. He gestured to Lijah, who seemed to understand that he was asking about his name.

"I was originally supposed to be Elijah," he said, emphasizing the 'e' at the beginning, "but my little sister had trouble saying the whole name, so I changed it to just Lijah. By itself, I don't think it means anything special, but it's pretty special to me."

Jason stared at Lijah. How was he so good-natured? Even with an intimidating stranger like Jason, he managed to keep his upbeat attitude and unselfish way of speaking. Was he stupid or genuinely that benevolent?

"Hey, walk with me back to camp," Lijah encouraged, setting off in that direction, "I owe you lunch."

Jason felt a small stab of panic and shook his head. He looked over his shoulder and back at Lijah, who nodded.

"You've got somewhere to be - that's fine! Don't worry about it, big guy! But, if you find yourself back this way, come find me at counselor cabin 5 and I'll get you a meal to pay you back for helping me. Thanks again!"

He waved goodbye before turning and walking back towards the camp, the pep in his step dampened only slightly by the soreness in his legs. Jason watched him go and wondered wildly what had just happened. Had he somehow accidentally made a friend?

[novannna]

You know, you’ll always have me

catradora celeb au, based off the song dorothea.   

“Catra and Adora were best friends. They had always been. It was a fact, just like how the stars shine in the sky and how the sun sets. It would never change. The two girls were meant to be, and there was not a thing that could change it.”

wc: 4755

tw: small depression mention, and suicidal thoughts 

Catra and Adora were best friends. They had always been. It was a fact, just like how the stars shine in the sky and how the sun sets. It would never change. The two girls were meant to be, and there was not a thing that could change it. They grew up together in the same orphanage, and were much closer to each other than they were to anyone else. Lonnie, Kyle, Rogelio… they were alright. But they weren’t the perfect fit to the gaping hole in each of the girls heart. Catra was Adora’s, and Adora was Catra’s. That was just the way it was. A simple fact, and nothing more.

Fairly on, their foster mom, Shadow Weaver, recognized Adora’s raw talents. Her voice. The way Adora could craft and tease a melody through her mouth was enough to make Catra’s eyes water. Adora was gifted. And Shadow Weaver took advantage of that. Soon, every weekend Adora was headed to some competition of a sort. And Catra refused to be left behind. So she became as good as she could at singing. And she got pretty damn good. She spent hours watching people as they sang, the way their throats bobbed and pulsed. She asked Adora the way it felt. She practiced on her own, deep in the woods that surrounded the orphanage. And when she thought she was ready, she managed to convince Shadow Weaver to bring her as one of Adora’s back up singers. The children were elated. Now they could be together all the time. They had everything they had always wanted. Each other. --- “Adora?” Catra hissed. “Adora, wake up!” It was the middle of night, and she could hear snores coming from the surrounding bunks. “What is it?” Adora mumbled sleepily. Catra grinned. “It’s a surprise. Come on!” She ripped the blankets off Adora, and dashed over to the window. Adora rubbed her eyes. “What’s happening?” “We’re sneaking out,” Catra groaned. “Honestly, Adora. Have all the singing lessons made you forget everything else?” “But what about Shadow Weaver?” Catra sighed. “Don’t worry about Shadow Weaver. She’s never bothered me before.” Adora froze. “Wait, you’ve sneaked out before?” “Well, yeah. Have you not?” Adora shook her head. “Well, there's a first for everything. Come on!” Catra threw the window open, and quickly scaled down the lattice. Adora cast one last anxious glance at the door, then hurried after Catra. “Where are we going?” Adora asked, her voice tinged with fear. Catra grinned. “The woods.” “The woods?” Adora asked, while following close behind Catra. “But it’s dangerous in there. All sorts of things. Bears, criminals, swamps…” she shuddered. “Catra, are you sure this is smart?” Catra smirked. “Relax. I’ve been in them millions of times. And I’m still fine.” Adora’s eyes widened. “You’ve been inside them before? Shadow Weaver would kill you if she knew.” “Not a problem. Because, A: she wouldn’t find out, B: she doesn’t give a shit about me, and C: she’d be happy if I died because then I’d be out of her way.” Adora frowned, but didn’t say anything. Catra led her through the thick forest, until they broke through the trees. A small pond lay in the center of a clearing. A large log had fallen across, creating a bridge to the other side. The moon lit everything in a silver glow. Catra grinned, and jumped onto the log. She spread her arms out for balance, and ran across the slippery surface. Her feet lost their grip, and Catra was falling, heading straight into the murky water. A hand shot out, and wrapped around her waist. She stopped a foot away. Adora laughed. “Careful,” she teased. “You were about to go take a bath.” Catra scowled, and scrambled her way back up. “Thanks.” “Of course.” Adora sat down, dangling her feet over the water. “This is gorgeous.” her voice was full of awe. “Yeah,” Catra said, settling down next to Adora. She laid her head on the blond girl’s shoulder. “It is.” Adora started to hum, her soft voice filling the silence. Catra smiled. It was her favourite song. Catra joined in, letting her low voice fill the air. “So don’t worry your pretty little mind,” Catra singing, her breath steaming in front of her. Adora laughed, and started singing as well. “People throw rocks at things that shine. And life makes love look hard. The stakes are high, the water's rough. But this love is ours,” they sang, their voices mixing together. It was different then when Adora was performing. There, Catra was just a voice in the background. But here, with Adora, Catra mattered. Her voice was just as equal to Adora’s. Catra grinned. She had never felt like this before. So light and… happy. Slowly their voices faded back into the silence. But the air was different. It felt full… warm. “We should go,” Catra whispered. “We have to be back before Shadow Weaver wakes up.” Adora nodded. “Can we come back here?” “Of course. You know the answer,” Catra replied with a smile. She carefully walked back across the log to the shore. “Wait,” Adora said quickly. “This is our pond. Shouldn’t we mark it?” Catra scooped up a jagged pebble, and jogged to a tree. Carefully, she carved A+C into the rough wood. “There. This place is ours now. No one else can claim it.” Catra grinned. Adora smiled. “I love it.” She looked down, and gasped. “Catra, look!” she bent down, and scooped up two small pebbles. They looked completely normal, except for a small hole in each one. Adora handed one to her. “One for you, and one for me.” She dug into her pocket, and pulled out a long strip of leather. Using the same rock Catra used to cut into the tree, Adora broke the string in half. “We’ll make it into necklaces.” Adora’s eyes gleamed. She slipped the necklace over her head. “Tie it for me?” She asked. Catra nodded, and quickly tied the brown string into a knot. She pulled it tight, and stepped back. “Do it for me too,” she said excitedly. Catra felt Adora’s soft fingers brush against her neck as she knotted the cord together. “Now we match.” “We never take it off,” Catra said gravely. Adora nodded, just as solem. “I promise. As long as I’m wearing this necklace, it means I’m still your best friend. I’ll never leave you.” They looked at each other, moonlight glimmering in their eyes. Catra felt her heart pound. “We need to go,” she murmured. “Yeah,” Adora sighed. “I know.” “We can come back, Adora.” “But it won’t be the same.” “No. It’ll be different every time. But we’ll make it better.” Catra slipped her hand into Adora’s. “But we need to go if we want to come back.” Adora sighed. “Alright. Lead the way.” She turned to Catra and smiled. Catra nodded, and pulled her back into the woods. --- Catra felt her breath quicken. “Adora, what are you saying?” She asked. “Catra, I’m so sorry,” Adora whispered. Her eyes were teary. “But I can’t turn this down. You know that.” “So what? You're going to leave me here? All alone?” Catra laughed incredulously. “You can’t do this. Please,” she begged. “I can’t turn this down! It’s just one tour! I’ll be back before you know it.” Adora sniffed deeply. “No.” Catra shook her head. “You won’t. I thought you cared about me, but it turns out you just want to be famous.” She immediately regretted the words. They were fake. Adora didn’t care about fame. She just wanted to sing. “Catra…” Adora started. “You know that’s not true.” Catra hung her head. “I know. It’s just… Will you come back?” Adora nodded. “Of course I will. I’ll only be gone a month, then I’ll be back. And we’ll go back to our pond, and be back together again. I promise.” Adora’s eyes stared straight into Catra’s. “Will you think about me?” “Every single second. I can’t wait to tell you all about it.” Adora laughed. “It’ll be crazy. I wish you could come.” “No.” Catra shook her head. “My place is here.” That was a lie. Catra had been waiting every day of her life to leave the orphanage. The only reason she hadn’t run away was Adora. But she couldn’t tell Adora that. She wouldn’t understand. Catra noticed the small stone hanging off Adora’s neck. She tapped a nail against the grey stone. “Will you take it off?” Adora laughed. “Of course not. I made you a promise. As long as I wear it, you still have me. I’m never taking it off.” Catra nodded, relieved. “Okay. I’ll help you pack.” “I think I’m done. Will you see me off?” Catra shook her head. “I can’t. Shadow Weaver won’t let me.” “Hey, it’ll only be a month. And then life will be back to normal. I promise.” Catra nodded. “Will you at least say goodbye now?” Adora asked. “No. Because that means there's a possibility of me never seeing you again. This isn’t goodbye. Just… till later.” Adora laughed. “Okay. Well, I’ll see you later.” She wrapped Catra in a warm hug, and she sank into the embrace. “I’ll see you later,” Catra whispered into the girl’s hair. “In a month, and then we’ll go back to our pond, and we’ll steal snacks from the pantry, and we’ll watch the stars. We only need to wait a month.” Catra said those words, but there was still dread in her heart. She felt like this would be the last time she’d ever see Adora again. So she hugged tightly, wishing she could capture the moment in time. --- Catra waited a month. And then another. Catra waited for three months before she gave up hope. Adora had left her. Catra had been replaced by her shiny new friends, with their perfect smiles, and dazzling appearance. Catra was just a little orphan girl in a small unimportant town. But Adora… she was rising fast. Catra watched the tv screen as she ate her breakfast, the entire orphanage clambering for a look at the girl they had known. Catra listened as Adora had interview after interview, concert after concert. Catra had even seen a magazine with Adora’s beautiful face pasted across the glossy cover. She had balled it up, and thrown it in the nearest trash can. One night, she snuck away to the pond, and sat on the log, tears dripping down her face. Adora was gone. She wasn’t coming back. Catra yanked the necklace off her neck. She wondered how long it had taken Adora to remove hers. Catra held it above the water, ready to let it fall into the pond, but her hand wouldn’t open. She wasn’t ready to let go yet. “Why did you leave me?” Catra asked the empty air, sobbing. “Wasn’t I enough?” She bent over herself, her body shaking with the force of her grief. “Wasn’t I enough?” She sobbed. “You promised you’d never leave me…” Catra sat on the old log, letting tears slip out. They fell through her fingers, landing in the water like rain. Finally, Catra rose. She couldn’t stand being in the clearing anymore. It was too painful a memory. Everywhere she looked, a golden haired girl waited, smiling sweetly at Catra. She felt a surge of betrayal. Adora had promised to come back. They were going to steal snacks from the pantry, run away to the pond, and sit together and watch the stars. Maybe Adora just got confused. Maybe the tour actually lasted a lot longer. But that was a lie, and Catra knew it. Adora had left her, and Catra was paying the price. She braced herself against a tree while she tried to breathe in enough air. Her fingers brushed against an indent carved deep into the bark. A+C Catra let out a guttural scream, and ripped into the bark with her bare hands. She ignored the splinters, only focusing on destroying the reminder of what had been. The reminder of the first night, where life was so perfect. They sang underneath the stars, and for the first time, Catra felt complete. But Adora had left Catra for a shiny new future. Catra stepped back, and looked at the mess of bark in front of her. Her fingers were covered in splinters and small cuts, but a triumphant smile was now on Catra’s face. She could become more. Catra didn’t need Adora. She didn’t need anything. She could do whatever she wanted to. She would do anything she wanted to. She’d done it before. For a girl with a sweet voice, and a sweeter personality. A girl who Catra would have given anything for…. “No,” Catra hissed. “No more Adora. She doesn’t matter. She’s the one who left you.” Catra wiped her tears away, and headed away from the pond. She ran away from the orphanage one week later. Adora never came back. --- 10 years later Catra bustled through her small apartment, mug of tea carefully balanced. She settled onto her couch, and flicked the tv on. “...music phenomenon Adora is on set to have some of the most listened to songs in history,” the reporter was saying. “And here she is!” A chorus of screams burst out of the tv. Catra cringed. All of Adora’s fans were so… loud. She couldn’t help but curl her nose. She actually snorted when she heard a fan scream, “Marry me Adora!” And then, Catra saw her. Adora. She looked different. That made sense. She wasn’t a kid anymore. But still. It was a shock. Her short hair was now long, but she still wore it in a ponytail. Catra smiled as she saw the small poof. Adora had always loved the way her hair would poof up at the front. She called it her signature look. Her teeth no longer had braces, and her skin was tanner. She looked so happy. Catra wondered for the first time, if she had been wrong to hate Adora. Kid stars often had no choice. It was foolish to think Adora hadn’t been manipulated. Catra jerked her attention back to the TV. “...well, I am excited to be in L.A. again,” she was saying warmly. “You know, I actually grew up here. It feels good to be near home.” LA? Catra started. They were in the same town. Less than 20 miles apart. She grabbed her phone, and quickly googled her upcoming concerts. Sure enough, the next one was listed in LA. Adora was going to be singing so close to Catra, and she had no idea. And all of the sudden, all the emotions Catra had pushed away for years flooded back in. Most prominent of all, Catra’s feelings for Adora. She remembered the way her heart would pound, and her cheeks would flush. The way she would stutter through words when Adora was near. Catra had a crush on Adora. No, but it had been more than a little crush. It was indescribable, what Catra felt. When Adora left, a part of her had been ripped away. It had hurt more than anything else she had ever felt. Because Catra needed Adora as much as she needed air. But she didn’t anymore. Catra had learned to survive on her own. She had built herself a life. It wasn’t a perfect life, but it was hers. And now, it felt empty. There was a large, Adora shaped hole inside her, and Catra just realized it for the first time. “I need to see her,” Catra whispered to herself. She googled tickets to the concert. They were shockingly low. An artist as famous as Adora would have tickets that sold for hundreds. But it only cost $35. Before Catra could convince herself out of it, she pressed the green buy button. A little ding was the only indicator that Catra had just changed her life. She inhaled sharply and sighed. There was no point worrying. She was going. That was all that mattered. She’d see Adora one last time. Maybe they wouldn’t talk, but Catra could begin to forgive herself for giving up on Adora. Or maybe they would, and Catra could take everything off her chest. It was in fate’s hands, and Catra couldn’t do a thing about it. She clicked the tv off, and stood up. She scratched the ears of her cat, Melog, and whispered to him, “Am I making a mistake?” He mewed in response. Catra groaned. “Not. Helpful.” She ran her fingers through her spiky hair. Adora hadn’t been the only one who had changed. A year ago, Catra had gotten so lost, and confused, she got in a bad place. She got depressed and suicidal. She had felt so alone, and she couldn’t see a point anymore. But her friend Scorpia had helped her. She put up with Catra’s mean comments, and rude attitude. She took her to get help. She convinced Catra to cut her hair. Get rid of the reminder of her past. Now Catra was doing much better. She was going to therapy, she had a good job, she was eating healthier, she was making friends, and actually keeping them. She kept her hair in a short, spiky cut, as a reminder of how far she had come. It felt better this way. No tethers. “I wonder if she would even recognize me. If she remembers me.” Catra sighed heavily. “Is she the same girl I knew? It’s been 10 years. So much distance between us.” Melog mewed again, and butted his head against Catra’s hand. She smiled. “Right. I should stop worrying about it. It’ll all work out. No use stressing.” She paused for a second. “What should I wear?” --- Catra tugged on the edges of her jacket anxiously. She stood outside the stadium, the formidable building staring down at her. “Come on Catra,” She hissed. “You can do it.” She squared her shoulders, and walked towards the gate, head held high. She presented her ticket, and passed through security in what felt like seconds. The seconds were slipping by, and she was barely able to focus on her footsteps. She found her seat in a daze. And then, the curtain was rising, and the cover band was singing. Catra tried to focus, but her fingers were drumming holes into her legs. The band sounded good, but catra couldn’t pay attention to their words. After what seemed like both seconds, and an eternity, it was time for Adora. The curtain rose, and Adora stood there. Her long blond hair was loose, for the first time in ages, and she wore a long white dress. The shoulders were a gentle gold, and a long white cape hung to the floor. A simple circlet hung on her brow. Catra gasped, as she looked at her best friend for the first time in years. Adora was breathtaking. She was pretty in a way that words just don’t describe. Catra wanted to cry. She knew that Adora was still the same girl she had been when she left Catra. She was still the Adora who was a complete idiot, but still cared. Catra could tell, even from 100 feet away. And then, she was singing. Her voice was just like Catra remembered. It was sweet, soft, and gorgeous. Catra could feel tears stinging her eyes. And then, Catra started listening to the song. She couldn’t help but gasp. She’d never heard it before. But she had been there. She knew what Adora was singing about. Adora hadn’t forgotten her. Not just that. Adora was singing a fucking song about her. About them. Catra stifled an incredulous laugh. “Hey,” she hissed to the person sitting next to her. “What’s the name of this song?” They rolled their eyes. “Kept Promises,” they hissed. “Didn’t you know?” Catra ignored them. Kept Promises. Adora was still planning on keeping hers. She had broken a million, but she was still remembering hers. Catra wasn’t forgotten by the only one who had cared. She couldn’t stop the wild grin from spreading across her lips. She looked back at the stage, at Adora crooning a song out of her lips. She looked up, and somehow through the distance between them, she met Catra’s eyes. A soft ‘o’ of recognition parted her lips. Her voice quavered, but it only added to her song. Adora squared her soldiers, and held Catra’s cool gaze while she sang, “Oh I swear I'm right here, I swear I’ll keep our love, hanging round my heart, ‘Cause your my girl, Yeah your my girl.” Catra smiled at Adora. Adora’s face lit up, and she grinned as the audience broke into applause. “Thank you,” She said. “You know, I wrote that song about my best friend. I haven’t seen her in awhile, but I’d never forget her. She’s one of the most important people in my life.” Catra’s neighbour muttered “lucky.” “Why?” Catra asked. The neighbour shrugged. “I’d love to be best friends with Adora. I can’t see why they don’t talk anymore though. She must be a really terrible person.” Catra bristled. “Yeah well-” she stopped herself. It didn’t matter. They were right. Catra had given up on Adora. She was terrible. “So- I thought I might sing her favourite song tonight. It’s not mine, but if you know the words feel free to sing along.” Adora looked straight at Catra and winked. “Elevator buttons and morning air…” She started singing. Catra laughed. Of course Adora would remember her favourite song. And sing it in front of a theater full of thousands of people. Adora was staring at her. Did she want Catra to join? Yes, Catra realized. She did. She remembered that night at their pond. Catra shook her head, and opened her mouth. Her voice mingled with hundreds of others as she singed along. “So don't you worry your pretty, little mind, People throw rocks at things that shine, And life makes love look hard,” Catra and Adora sang. Sure, their voices rang with countless others, but their voices were the only ones that mattered. Suddenly, it was 10 years ago, and they sat on a damp log, legs dangling over water. They leaned against each other, and sang a song they knew to be true. The world was so twisted and awful, but at the same time it was perfect. It was perfect because they still had each other. Catra let herself free. She grinned at Adora, who grinned back. The blonde girl’s smile completely melted Catra’s heart. They had found their way back to each other at last. --- Catra dashed through the throngs of people. She crept past the guards, and finally, she was in the backstage area. It was quiet, the throngs of people missing. Catra searched for Adora. She spotted a dressing room, and knocked quietly on the door. “Come in,” A voice said. A voice that was so achingly familiar. Catra stepped inside and closed the door behind her. “Hey, Adora,” she said with a small smile. She was surprised by an enormous, crushing hug. “Oh my god, Catra,” Adora’s muffled voice said. “I can’t believe this.” Finally she stepped back, and looked Catra up and down. “I like your hair.” Catra laughed. “It’s been 10 years, and all you’ve got is I like your hair? Come on princess, do better.” “I’ve missed you so much. How… how is this happening?” Catra looked down. “I realized nothing was your fault. You probably didn’t have much of a choice.” “For what?” “Leaving me!” Catra laughed. “What else?” “What do you mean?” Adora asked. Her voice was confused. “You said you’d be back in a month. I waited for three months, and you never came back. You promised you would.” “Oh, Catra. Shadow Weaver… she called a week after I left to say you ran away. I didn’t come back because there was nothing for me there. I thought you had decided to leave.” Her eyes glistened. “I’m so sorry, I never thought…” “That Shadow Weaver lied?” Catra heard the anger in her voice. “I’m sorry, I know it’s not your fault. But you could have at least checked.” Catra’s voice broke. “I was all alone for three months. Do you have any idea what that was like?” Adora shook her head. “I did check. A year later, I came back. No one knew. I went to our pond….” Adora took in a deep shuddering breath. “I saw the A+C. I assumed you hated me.” “I did. For a while I did. I got into a bad place, but I’m alright now. And when I saw you were in LA, I knew I had to come, and at least try to make things right between us.” Catra sighed. “I’ve missed you Adora. Life without you feels bad. I don’t want that anymore.” Adora wrapped her arms tightly around Catra again. “I don’t either. Friends?” She held out her hand. Catra looked at it, and tried not to frown. It was foolish to believe Adora felt the same feelings for her. Catra was the last person anyone would want to date. Catra shook Adora’s hand. “Right. Friends.” Adora blushed a deep red. “Well... if you want to... I wouldn’t mind being more than friends.” Catra laughed softly. “You're such a dumbass. Why do you think I came back?” Taking Adora’s face in her hands, she kissed her lips softly. And everything felt right. That Adora shaped hole inside Catra was finally gone. Replaced with something much better. Finally, they broke apart. Catra spotted a frayed cord hanging from Adora’s neck. She tugged it out, revealing a small rock with a hole through it. “You never took it off,” Catra said in amazement. “Of course not! I promised I wouldn’t as long as we’re friends.” Catra looked down. “I took mine off. After you left, I couldn’t wear it. But I still carry it in my pocket everyday.” She pulled out her own necklace. The cord was dirty and falling apart, but it was still there. Without asking, Adora plucked it out of Catra’s hands, and quickly tied it around her neck. The weight settled comfortably, and it felt right. “Thank you,” Catra whispered. “I’m sorry for giving up on you.” “And I’m sorry for leaving you.” Adora brushed a kiss against Catra’s lips. “But that's in the past. It doesn’t matter anymore. Because we’re back together, and I’m never leaving your side.” “Promise?” “I promise. And you know I won’t break it.” Adora laughed softly. “I love you Catra. I went crazy without you by my side.” “Me too. But we’re by each other’s sides. The world can’t keep us apart again.” Adora slipped her hands into Catra’s. “I’d like to see them try.” Catra leaned forwards, sinking into the kiss. Adora wasn’t on a screen anymore, she was standing right in front of Catra. They had found each other again. Catra had found her home at last, and this time she was staying for good.

lyrics to Kept Promises You found me in the dark Took my hand Led me out, oh

You showed me all the wonders of our world Wonders just for our eyes For our eyes

Oh oh oh

Trellis creaking under out weight Thought id fall But thats okay ‘Cause your underneath Waiting to catch me in your arms

Led me through the woods Took me to your secret spot Pond of moonlight Forgotten by the world

Crossed a log You fell right in I caught your hand Pulled you up I'll be there beside you Beside you

Oh i swear i'm right here I swear I’ll keep our love hanging round my neck ‘Cause your my girl Yeah your my girl

We sang ourselves a special song Wrapped ourselves in the memory You taught me to breathe You taught me to breathe

Carved our names upon a log Let that be a reminder This spot is ours It's ours

We found two stones with matching holes Strung them round our necks With a promise We’ll take it off when there’s no more love And darling i'll still wear it Even when i'm gone, it'll grace my neck Cause its yours And mine

Oh i swear i'm right here I swear I’ll keep our love Hanging round my neck ‘Cause your my girl Yeah your my girl Yeah, your my girl

[spencers-dria]

Meet Me in the Woods

Someone To Stay Ch. 7

Spencer x fem reader

After dinner, the guys and girls split up into their separate rooms, taking turns in the showers. After you finished washing up, you put on some red, plaid pajama pants, a black tank top, and a pair of slippers that looked like bear paws. You made your way into the kitchen, where Rossi was cleaning up.

"You didn't happen to bring marshmallows, did you?" You ask, eyebrows raised.

"You read my mind, kid." Rossi gives you a wink as he hands you a bag, already full of everything you need.

While he finishes, cleaning you make your way outside. All you can hear is the sound of crickets and the wind in the trees. It's like music to your ears, so peaceful. You walk across the back patio that overlooks the lake, heading towards the fire pit. Sitting on one of the log benches, you start to pull out all the supplies you need. After gathering some kindling, you start a fire in the stone fire pit, giving it a poke here and there to help get it going. Within a few minutes, the fire has grown to a decent size, and you can feel it's warmth from your seat.

It's not long before the doors open and the rest of the group joins you, gathering around the fire. Everyone grabs a skewer and starts roasting their marshmallows. Derek gets a little over eager with the fire and keeps burning his, so JJ has to help him out. The chocolate Rossi brought to use isn't plain Hershey's, but instead it's Ghirardli chocolate with different fillings like caramel or raspberry! These have to be some of the best s'mores you've ever tasted.

Once everyone is snacking on their s'mores, you hear Spencer speak up. "Alright! Who wants to hear a ghost story?"

The group lets out some claps and cheers for him.

You watch as his face changes and he lets the group get quiet as he sets the mood for the story. He pulls a candle out from somewhere behind his seat and lights it in the fire. He holds it in front of his face as he begins to speak, but stops when he hears a snicker. He turns and gives you a serious look.

"I'm so sorry!" You and JJ both giggle, trying to pull yourselves together. "It's just really funny watching you take this so seriously."

He rolls his eyes at you, but you swear you almost see a smile. He tries to get back in character before starting.

"In Fredericksburg, Virginia...there is a hospital that would seem completely normal to most people. But to anyone who has been a patient on the 4th floor, they know better." He uses overly dramatic inflection in his voice, which only makes it more humorous.

"Really Spencer...the hospital where I work?"

He stops again, turning to you. "You know what ghosts really hate? People who interrupt. That's right! And they're coming for you next." He gives you a shove, and neither of you can keep a straight face anymore. You're both laughing, trying to catch your breath.

"Hey! I want to hear the rest of the story!" Penelope pipes up.

"Oh please he's just making it up as he goes along. It's not even that scary." You joke, playfully.

"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that, but I think we all know who did hear it..." he says in his spookiest voice. "Anyways! Like I said, the 4th floor is haunted. Patients who stay in rooms 26  and 27 have reported seeing a young boy and young girl. They say the girl always asks them if they want to play with her ball. Other patients have said they can hear a ball bouncing in the hallway in the latest hours of the night."

You shift, a bit uneasy in your seat. This was starting to sound familiar. It reminded you of stories you had heard from coworkers...but how would he know about this? You normally aren't spooked easily, but as Spencer continues, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

He continues the story. "They say the only people they really go after are the staff. They wait until their guard is down, the sneak up behind them, and..."

"GOTCHA!" You jump up from your seat as someone grabs you from behind.

You look down to see Derek Morgan, bent over with laughter, tears in his eyes. Spencer is laughing just as hard, if not harder. The rest of the team joins in, and after your nerves settle, so do you.

"You planned this didn't you?!" You yell at the two of them, trying to stifle a laugh and be serious.

The pair of them still laughing too hard to even  speak. You have your answer.

"Well that's enough fun for me. I'm headed to bed, anyone else?" Rossi gets up and everyone else joins him, heading inside.

When you step inside, you grab your green, plaid, wool blanket off the couch and carry it back out to the patio. Everyone is already getting ready for bed, so no one notices. You spread it out on the deck and turn off the porch light. You finally lay down on your back, looking straight up at the night sky. You could see a few stars from where you live, but out here there are more than you could ever count. It looks like pixie dust, spread across a deep abyss of black. You take a deep breath in, smelling the forest. For you, it doesn't get any better than this.

You soon hear the patio door open and close, followed by footsteps. You see Spencer standing over you, looking down at you with curiosity. He's changed into purple PJ pants and a Star Wars shirt.

"Whatcha doin?"

"Taking it all in." You smile up at him.

"Mind if I join?"

You scoot over, making extra room as you pat the spot next to you on the blanket.

You let out a long sigh, feeling completely content and relaxed. "I don't know what it is, about space, the stars, the galaxy...but I have always been so mesmerized by all of it. Part of me just appreciates how beautiful it is and part of me appreciates how it is all so much bigger than me. It's beyond what I can ever wrap my head around. There's nothing I wouldn't do to one day take a trip up there."

"Do you know the story of Perseus?" Spencer asks before explaining. He's learned not to underestimate your random knowledge as well.

"Believe it or not, I do actually."

Spencer smiles to himself. "I'm not surprised. Anyways, so there is Cephus at the top, Cassiopeia below him to the right, then Andromeda, and finally Perseus at the bottom left."

Your face twist in confusion. You don't see any of it, but you're too embarrassed to admit this, so you nod as if you see them. You sometimes forget what Spencer does for his job. He scoots closer to you to share your line of vision. He then looks at you and smiles before grabbing your hand and directing your pointer finger along the path of each constellation.

"It's beautiful isn't it?" You ask him.

"What is?"

"All of it. The stars, the trees, the sounds, the smells...it's perfect." You close your eyes feeling completely at peace in this moment.

You don't see Spencer roll his head to look at you.

"Yeah, really beautiful." He responds.

You feel your body relaxing and slipping away from the moment as you fall closer towards sleep. The next thing you know you feel arms slipping underneath you and lifting you from the ground. Mostly asleep, you absent-mindedly wrap your arms around the figure carrying you. You feel your body being carried up and then tucked underneath you bed comforter. Your eyes flit open for only a moment. Through the thick darkness you barely make out Spencer's outline climbing back down the ladder and quietly slipping out of the room. This is the last thing you see before you are awoken by the scent of smokey bacon.

You open your eyes and look around the room to see all three other ladies are still fast asleep. Sunlight is dripping into the room from between the curtains. You carefully make your way down from your top bunk and tip toe out of the room, trying to avoid any squeaky wooden floorboards.

When you finally reach the kitchen, you are surprised to see Hotch cooking breakfast. He's smiling and flipping pancakes at the stove. You haven't known  him very long, but this is still not something you would have expected from him.

"Goodmorning" you yawn, rubbing your eyes and adjusting to the sunlight flooding in from the large kitchen windows.

"Morning!" he beamed. "Care for some pancakes?"

"Pancakes sound wonderful, thanks! Need any help?"

"You can set the table if you don't mind."

"Not at all! Happy to help," You give him a smile as you start to pull place settings out from the cabinets.

"So, pancakes from scratch...where did you learn that?"

He lets out a small chuckle. "Rossi's not the only one who can cook ya know. Truthfull though, I learned a lot from my wife Haley. She was a great mom, and a wonderful cook." He smiles as he seems to get caught up in a memory, but you can here the sadness lacing his tone.

You can't help but inquire. "Was?"

He looks down at the bacon he is now grilling, avoiding eye contact as he continues.

"She was my ex wife for only a little while before she was killed. It was a serial killer that the team should have...that I should have caught." He has stopped cooking and is now gripping the counter infant of him, as though he was trying to keep himself from falling over.

You may not know him well, but your job had made you fairly comfortable with talking to people dealing with situations such as this, so you decide to approach him. You place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, that you and your son have had to go through that. No one should ever be put through that much trauma. But I can tell its made you really strong. And your son, he's lucky to have a dad who cares so much about him and keeps him safe."

Hotch takes a deep breath before continuing his cooking as he flips a few pieces of bacon and pours another pancake. He then turns to you and gives a warm genuine smile.

"Thank you, Y/N. I really appreciate it, truly. We have all been through a lot. And I'm not the only one who's lost someone because of this job..."

He trails off when you expected him to continue. There was something about the way he said that last part that made you believe he wanted to say more. Could he be talking about Spencer? Who did he lose? What happened to them? When did it happen?

Questions start to flood your mind but are quickly pushed to the back as the rest of the team starts to make their way into the kitchen for breakfast.

Everyone is talking about their plans for the day. So you turn to Spencer.

"I have something fun planned, if you're willing to trust me."

He raises his eyebrows, intrigued.

"Well I trusted you yesterday and I turned out okay" he laughs.

"Well it's definitely more laid back, even relaxing. If you want you can even bring a book."

He puts his elbows on the table and leans forward on his hands. You've clearly peaked his interest.

"Ok you've won me over. What is it?"

"A surprise." You smile as you grab both of your empty plates and bring them to the sink to wash them off.

"Well can you at least tell me what I need to wear for this?"

You take a minute to think.

"Definitely sun screen and probably something can get a little bit wet or dirty and also some sturdy shoes."

You both make your way to your rooms to get ready. You find the other three ladies already getting dressed and packed for their planned activities.

Alex is getting ready to go on a hike with Rossi and Hotch. JJ and Morgan are taking some rental jet skis out on the lake. Penny will be relaxing on her float again.

You put on a grey tank with an open, oversized navy flannel, some grey khaki shorts, and chacos . You grab your north face backpack and head to the kitchen to sort through the snacks. The backpack gets filled with granola bars, fresh fruit, cashews, and water bottles.

As you are finishing up, Spencer makes his way out of his room. He's in a half zip grey long sleeve, khaki shorts and tennis shoes. It doesn't look ah all like something he'd usually wear.

"Nice outfit" you smile at him.

"Oh uhh thanks, I borrowed the shirt from Hotch and the shorts aren't something I usually wear, but I brought them on the trip just in case." He seems to be blushing a bit. You feel bad, thinking you've must have embarrassed him.

"No really though, the outdoors look, it works for you." You elbow him as you giggle. The blush on his face turns a dark shade of red. Maybe he's really not used to getting told he looks good. This seems a bit crazy to you. He's ridiculously attractive. So much so that you brushed off any possibility of anything happening the night you met him. Spencer was just a friend, and that's exactly what you needed.

You throw on your back pack and lead the two of you out the glass doors and down the patio steps. You make your way further away from the cabin until the only thing left surrounding the two of you are trees.

The two of you walk for a couple minutes in a comfortable silence. You take in the sound of leaves crunching under your feet, wind in the trees, birds chirping. You look up to see sunlight streaming through the leaves of the trees above you. The path is covered by a canopy of green and gold. It's almost magical. You finally look over to see Spencer with a big smile on his face. He's looking around in awe. You have a feeling he doesn't do this sort of thing often.

"Wow" he breathes out. "It's so beautiful and calm. It's almost a bit..."

"Magical?" You interject. He looks down at you in surprise to see you smiling back up at him. He just smiles and nods.

You finally make your way to dock at the edge of the lake. You toss your back back into a red canoe tied up on the dock.

"We're going out on the lake?" He questions.

"Yeah is that okay?"

"Yeah that's ok. I've never actually been in a canoe before, I'm not sure how much help I'll be rowing."

"That's ok, Spencer. We're just here to relax and have fun" you reassure him.

You motion for him to step in first. You untie the boat from the dock push it off into the water as you jump in at the other end. You instruct him to turn around and face the front and hand him one paddle. You call out instructions to help him with pace and directions. After a couple minutes, he starts to get the hang of it. I mean, he has a PhD in engineering, you're not surprised.

Eventually, the boat is fairly far from shore and you both put down your paddles as he turns to face you. You reach into your backpack and pull out blankets to lay across the seats. Then you pull out the snacks and the water.

"A picnic on the lake, huh?" He gives a slight chuckle.

"Yeah" you shrug. "A bit cheesy, I know."

"It's perfect." He glances up at you with a genuine toothy grin on his face. He looks really happy. When you see this you can't help the ever growing smile on your face.

"What gave you this idea?" he asks as he starts munching on some cashews and grapes.

"Well, I love hiking, I love the water, and you already know I love food. So why not combine all three? Plus, there's just something really therapeutic about being in a boat out on the water, rowing, the only sound is your paddle in the water."

"Well I hope you don't mind, I brought something. I didn't know what we'd be doing, but I thought it might come in handy. Um it's not mine and Derek had to show me how to set it up. It's probably stupid anyways."

"I wanna see!" You give him a light shove on the shoulder.

He reaches into the backpack he brought and pulls out a Bluetooth speaker. Next he pulls out his phone and you hear the beep as it connects. You're incredibly intrigued at this point. The next thing you know, you hear the hear the gentle harmonica and acoustic guitar as "Ghost on the Shore" by Lord Huron fills the air around you.

You lean back on your hands, tears threaten to fill the brims of your eyes.

"Spencer... this is really, really sweet. How did you even find this song?"

"I noticed you looking at some of their music in that coffee shop with the music store. I listened to a little bit, and I really liked this song. I figured you would too."

"It's one of my favorites."

The two of you spend more time listening to music,

snacking, and just taking in the beauty of the nature around you. Way off in the distance you hear laughter and can see JJ and Derek racing around on their jet skis. You decide to head back and join the others, music still sounding from the speaker tucked into a side pocket of his backpack. "Meet Me in the Woods" echoes through the trees as you hike back towards the cabin together. Today had turned out even better than you ever could have planned.

[misterewrites]

Underground Proper (Welcome to the Underground!)

Hello everyone! 2021! WOO! Thank god. I know it's pretty much just arbitrary signal of the passage of time but you gotta enjoy the little things. I hope you are all good, staying safe and sound in these chaotic times. Here is the new chapter which I hope you enjoy. 

It's finally time to enter the Underground proper. Abigail and company had an exciting large send off but the first steps of the journey are at hand and Abigail is quick to realize that leaving the Underground might be harder than she thought.

Reblog, enjoy stay safe tell your friends about it! Wear your masks, wash your hands, have a great week! E out!

and if you want to leave me comments or find an easier way to read it, here’s a link to it on ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814297/chapters/69919671

The longer Abigail stayed in the Underground, the more realized she was wildly getting further and further out of her depth.

She thought the little walk from the cemetery to town had properly prepared for her trek into the wilds but all it had really done was lure her into a false sense of security.

The tunnel floor was uneven, the ground straightening and sloping at random which nearly caused her to trip once or twice. The path would randomly grow and shrink as well, sometimes becoming so wide that the Swift Slivers could march side by side then without warning becoming so narrow the trio had to fall into a single file line. She jumped at noises that abruptly existed in the tunnel, signs of life or movement echoing further down the path. The air was frigid and moist, reminding Abigail of her town’s harshest winters. She tried to keep track of where the group currently was but that ultimately proved useless as the road would veer slightly left, snaked back and forth, bent at a weird angle and sometimes looped back around, rising or falling with a spiral or slope. Illumashrooms weren’t as plentiful as the town and while it wasn’t pitch dark, Abigail had to squint and focus among the dim light of the occasional mushroom found on the path.

Her dear departed brother Arthur once mentioned how he was not a fan of tight spaces. Claustrophobia the clerics called it. At the time Abigail thought him silly given that they lived in a wide open farm. Here, among the darkness and stony walls of the underground, Abigail understood what he meant more clearly.

Arthur.

Abigail could feel her heart ached terribly at the thought of her brother.

“Watch out here farm girl” Oliver’s voice called from out front.

Abigail snapped back to reality, her hand reaching out for Archibald’s shoulder as the road sloped sharply once more.

Abigail knew the other two were helping her through her first time through the tunnel and she wasn’t sure how to feel about it. She was used to being caught flat footed but never to this degree. Well except that one time during Winter’s Solstice. That was just awkward for everyone especially her.

Oliver was ahead, lightly humming the occasional song while calling out warnings about sudden shifts in the road. Archibald walked beside her when the path would allow, offering his hand then shoulder for her to brace herself with.

The boys were clearly no stranger to this way of traveling and while Abigail felt a little embarrassed at her tripping and confusion, she was grateful the two went out of her way to help her. Even Oliver hadn’t sent a pointed barb at her.

“I can see why it takes half day to a day.” Abigail sighed, steadying herself against Archibald “Is it always this rough?”

“Better and worse usually.” Oliver admitted, peering into the shifting shadows ahead “This just one path and since not many people go to West End, it’s usually uncared for here.”

He gestured to a illumashroom plucked from the ground and thrown to its side.

“But” he continued “The other paths are well worn, lot more people and lot more care put into maintaining the roads and the signs. More ways to get where you want too but also more roadblocks and unforeseen circumstances.”

“Mixed bag then.” Abigail huffed.

“Like life” Oliver replied.

Archibald nodded his head in agreement.

“How do you guys get used to it?”

Oliver motioned to himself “Born here.”

Archibald gestured to his sliver hued clothing.

“Right. Silly question.”

Archibald tiled his hand back and forth.

“Ha, thanks Archibald.”

He rose a thumb in response.

“Enough flirting back there.” Oliver shouted “It’s getting late.”

“Is it?”

“We’ve been working for about 6, 7 hours Archie?”

Archibald paused thoughtfully before wordlessly counting his fingers, holding up 7 after a moment.

Abigail glanced at them “Have we? I hadn’t noticed.”

“You will when we stop. Luckily there is a clearing up ahead.”

“Clearing? Like a field or?” Abigail glanced at Archibald who simply gestured forward.

“Clearing.” Abigail whispered in understanding.

Before them was a cavern, wide and spacious whose ceiling couldn’t been seen through the inky darkness. The walls were rough and jagged with the odd crack or smaller tunnel that led away from the beaten path. The faint of smell of ash filled the air as Abigail noticed the various imprints of tents and footsteps scattered across the floor, travelers long past persevered by dust.

“Rest stop” Oliver explained, putting his travel bag on the floor “There’s a couple of these caverns across the roads. Perfect to set up and keep an eye out when resting or sleeping. Usually there’s more people but like I said, no one comes to West End. Willingly at least.”

Abigail rose an eyebrow “You did though.”

If Oliver heard, he made no indication as he began removing things from his bag.

Archibald and Abigail followed suit, making themselves comfortable among the stony floor as they set up for the night.

______

Abigail was quick to realize what Oliver meant when he said she would notice once they stopped.

Once her little sleeping bag had been laid out and she folded up the cloak under her as a comfortable seat, she could feel the exhaustion ebb into her bones.

Abigail huffed tiredly as she took a seat “Wow, I’ve never been that winded before.”

Archibald was hard at work setting a fire pit, finding rocks around and enclosing the various logs of wood within while Oliver plucked at his lute mindlessly, sitting upon on his own pile of clothing for a seat.

“Lack of sun people say. Humans aren’t really suppose to go without it for long periods of time. Luckily a lot of food down here that helps with that.”

Abigail’s stomach rumbled hungrily at the mention of food. She briefly remembering eating snacks throughout the day but not a full meal.

Archibald fished out a piece of jerky from his pack and handed it to Abigail

Abigail smiled gratefully “Thanks.”

Archibald coughed, returning to his work as Oliver searched through his bag.

“Archie, Slimewood?”

He replied with an unhappy face.

“I picked up some Jub steak too.”

The archer nodded happily at the alternative.

“Slimewood? Jub steak?”

Oliver pulled out a carefully wrapped package, laying it to the side as he dug deeper “Food Abigail. I bought some for this road trip.”

“You bought food?? When?!” Abigail couldn’t recall seeing the bard make such a purchase.

“I snuck out after everyone fell asleep. Butcher owed me a favor so I did some midnight shopping.”

“And were you planing on sharing this information?”

“Yes” Oliver admitted “Now when it’s dinner time.”

“Surprisingly nice of you” Abigail murmured suspiciously. “Practical” Oliver corrected “We’re traveling together so the best shot to stay alive is to make sure we’re all well fed and in one peace. Especially this one.”

Oliver pointed at Archibald who beamed with pride.

“Right. Travel companions.”

“Hey you came at me with a knife.” Oliver reminded her.

“After you tried to rob me.” Abigail shot back darkly.

“Thought you were a corpse farm girl.”

Archibald looked back and forth between the two.

“Long story” Abigail offered sympathetically.

Oliver scoffed “I thought she was dead, tried to find something of worth, she came at me with a knife. Not that long of a story farm girl.”

Abigail glared openly at the bard. Oliver shrugged as Archibald finished the fire pit, flames and all.

Abigail sighed happily “Much better.”

“Oi merc, got a pan?”

Archibald nodded and pulled out an old worn frying pan. Oliver took it appreciatively and placed it upon the roaring flame, meat shortly followed after.

“Smells pretty good!”

“As opposed to?”

“I dunno. Not good? I don’t even know what this is!”

“First rule of eating food: Never asked what it’s made of.”

“I live on a farm. I’m aware of that rule.”

Archibald chuckled to himself as he eyed either tunnel entrance carefully for any sign of trouble.

The trio sat in a surprisingly peaceful silence among the crackling of the flame and sizzling of cooked meat.

“I’m surprised you know how to cook” Abigail admitted “Given that you’re a grave robber and a jerk.”

Archibald quietly nodded in agreement.

“Personality traits and old habits are not inductive of my skill set.” Oliver replied, turning the meat over.

“I don’t think I’ve seen a bard do anything besides sing and dance.

Oliver scoffed “They’re not real bards like me. I’m going to be the best and to be that, I need to be varied.”

Abigail couldn’t hide her surprise “So you’re not the best? I thought you burst into flames if you were ever honest.”

“I am honest” Oliver countered “I just decide how much honesty I need to share with people.”

Archibald snorted loudly.

“Yeah yeah” Oliver gestured threateningly with his spoon “Keep it up merc and I’ll burn your piece extra crispy and black.

Archibald rose his hand in surrender.

Abigail chuckled, smiling at her companions. She had forgotten how nice it was to be around people.

“Watch it farm girl” Oliver teased, passing her a plate filled with a well cook steak and odd side dishes “You keep smiling like that people might think we’re friends.”

“Moment of weakness. It’s been a long day.”

Oliver snickered, offering Archibald his plate “As long as we’re on the same page.”

Abigail decided to not reply.

Oliver took a smug pride at the others faces as they bit into their first taste of the sweetish salty meat.

“Not just another bard huh?”

Abigail stuck her tongue out “I’m not going to give you the satisfaction.”

Oliver turned to Archibald “How about you merc? Gonna give me some validation?”

Archibald choked, too caught off guard by the question. He gave a friendly thumbs up before trying to clear his airway.

“No greater compliment than a man choking on your food.” Oliver beamed proudly.

Abigail gently rubbed and patted his back in an attempt to help Archibald. He let out a might cough and smiled sheepishly towards Abigail in thanks.

“You don’t talk much huh?”

He shook his head.

“Not a fan?”

A nod.

“I understand.” Abigail gave a cheery smirk.

Archibald was awfully interested in his plate all of the sudden.

“So” Abigail glanced back towards Oliver “This competition? This isn’t you picking on a bunch of kids for a talent show right? You’re actually competing against real bards in a real competition.”

“Of course.” Oliver waved off her accusatory tone “I’m morally gray, not a bully.”

“You’ve been bullying me just fine.” Abigail murmured with an unhappy edge to her tone.

“It’s how I show tolerance.”

“How about you stop being a jerk and sing for us bard?”

Oliver rubbed his fingers together.

Abigail raised an eyebrow “Seriously? You’re going to charge us?”

“No point to do something for free when you can get paid for it.” Oliver gave impish grin.

Abigail frowned before an idea formed in her head “You know Archibald doesn’t think you can sing at all. He was telling me he thinks you just talk a big game but doesn’t see it.”

Archibald froze, his fork halfway between his open mouth and his plate. His eyes darted back and forth, unsure how he got pulled into this.

Oliver pursed his lips: On one hand he knew Abigail was baiting him given how much of a conversationalist Archibald had been this far. But on the other hand, he could never resist a chance to show off.

“I’m playing” Oliver stated simply as he slid his lute off his back “But because I want to. I need practice if I want to win first place.”

“Oh right sure.” Abigail nodded mockingly

Archibald was still confused.

Notes filled the still cave air. It was a soft tune, slow and peaceful reminding Abigail of a lullaby. The bard closed his eyes, swaying back and forth as his fingers strummed across the strings almost like they were made of air.

“For the one day I have long since gone through my past.” Oliver whispered, his voice gravelly and low “Memories of a place that surely can not last. For far and wide I have long always done roam, watching and seeking where I shall call home.”

The flourish, the rises and drops in the music filled Abigail with some nostalgia she hadn’t realized she’d been carrying: He was by no means perfect given some notes did not fit with the others and she could tell this slow more determined song was not his preferred style but even she had to admit this was nice. Surrounded by people, enjoying songs long into the night.

It was nice to be around people.

______

Abigail yawned tiredly as morning came. Well according to Oliver and Archibald it was morning: In the darkness of the tunnels, it was pretty much impossible to tell what time it actually was.

As they drew closer to the capital, Abigail had a better idea of what Oliver meant by better maintained: While not perfect, the path was well worn yet smooth. The slopes weren’t as drastic or without warning. Once or twice, the road branched off to some other path that shot off in some direction Abigail couldn’t hazard a guess.

“What are these all about?” Abigail motioned to yet another crack in a wall, some smaller tunnel that led off into the darkness.

Archibald guided her away from the opening as Oliver glanced backwards.

“Stay away from those.” Oliver eyed the crack cautiously “We call them sideways because who knows where you’re going to end up.”

“I don’t get it.” Abigail was unable to keep the confusion out of her tone.

“Unexplored tunnels.” Oliver clarified “Well as far as we know. No one knows where they go and they’re very dangerous. If you’re lucky, they’ll just spit you out somewhere on the main road. But no one can really be sure and it’s best not to tempt fate.”

A shiver ran down Abigail’s back as she moved closer to the middle of the road. She was already disoriented and lost on this main road to the capital. She didn’t want to know how would it feel be hopelessly lost in the dark.

Abigail nearly crashed into Oliver, took caught up in her thoughts to realize the bard had stopped dead in the road.

“Wha?!” Abigail flailed in surprise “Oliver! What are you doing?”

“Do you hear that?”

Abigail looked about, unsure what she was supposed to be hearing.

“No, I don’t hear anything.”

“Exactly.”

A sense of dread began to fill Abigail, her breathing becoming labored. Now that she thought of it, this was the first moment in her journey that there was a tense thick silence. Even in the middle of nowhere, she could hear far off noises among the chilly air. Now the air was still with an overwhelming quiet surrounding them.

“Archie?” Abigail called only to find the archer’s eyes darting about, bow ready in his hands.

He pulled her closer, putting her in the middle of himself and Oliver.

“Guys?”

“Not now Abigail.”

Abigail felt the tension growing, some unseen danger that lurked close by, waiting for their chance to strike.

Abigail glanced about, desperately trying to find some sort of clue to what was going on when she spotted it: glowing silver gleams peering through the darkness of the crack.

Something scurried out quickly, it’s claws scraping the stone walls as its form was silhouetted against the dim glow of the tunnel. She tried to make out what exactly it was but its skin or shell or whatever was too dark in this light.

It was small which was a comfort to Abigail though its claws were sharp and dug easily into the floor. It was misshapen that even Abigail, whom was well versed with a variety of animals, couldn’t tell its features. The only that was noticeable besides its claws were its sliver eyes which were smooth and solid.

“What’s that?” Abigail tilted her head quizzically.

“What is…?” Oliver whirled around “ARCHIE!”

“what, wait?” but no sooner the words had left her mouth, the creature let out a horrible shriek. It thundered in her ears with such a volume that it made her dizzy and unsteady.

The creature stood on its hind legs, throat wide open and the shriek slowly growing louder and louder.

Silence came without warning but it was welcomed.

Abigail panted heavily, the ringing almost unbearable as her sight slowly focused.

There was an arrow where the creature once stood.

Abigail turned sideways to find Archibald, sweat on his brow, his breath heavy and uneven.

She let out a sigh of relief “Did I tell you how much I love you?”

Archibald gave a weak smile.

“Move!”

Archibald and Abigail stared back at Oliver who began pulling at their wrist.

“MOVE NOW!!” Oliver shouted, shoving them forward into a desperate run.

Abigail opened her mouth when she heard the sound of dozens of claws wildly scratching and scraping at anything and everything.

The creatures burst forth from the crack or at least Abigail thought they were creatures. She couldn’t tell where one ended and another began. It was a mass of constantly shifting shadows that took odd shapes. It was if the creatures couldn’t agree on what form they should take. The only thing that did not change was the dozens pairs of sliver smooth eyes, their gaze lifeless yet single minded.

Abigail struggled to break into a run. Her feet felt heavy like the floor was pulling her deeper and deeper into the ground. She could feel fear creeping into every inch of her body, threatening to send her into shock as she tried to keep her panic under control.

“I don’t want to die.” Abigail murmured fearfully as her hands grasped deliriously at the air “Not here. Not yet. Mom, dad. Please! Not here! NOT YET!”

She couldn’t hold in the scream, the panic and fear was too much. She could feel the tears running down her cheeks, the whirl of claws closing the distance inch by inch.

There was a quietness that came with the end. A strange sensation of peace, of acceptance. She felt it now amid the fear and panic. She could hear the soft sounds of trumpets in her ears, a familiar song playing in her mind. It took her a moment to recognize the fanfare of the king’s guard, a triumphant march of victory. She always felt safer whenever she heard the blaring of the horns far in the distance.

She took a deep calming breath. Her body no longer felt sluggish and disconnected as the fanfare played faintly in her head.

She could feel Archibald just behind her, the occasional notch of an arrow letting her know he was trying to push back the hoard but not finding much luck.

Abigail looked forward and was not surprised to find Oliver busy at work. The jet black lute glowed with previously unseen blue runes scrawled across its surface. His fingers were furiously strumming across his lute as if their lives depended on it.

They probably did. His song was the only thing keeping the fear at bay.

“Bards.” Abigail muttered under her breath before calling out “How much further to the gate?”

“Not close enough!” Oliver answered, his fingers never stopping “We’re going to have to lose them another way!”

“There is no other way!” Abigail struggled to keep the tears from spilling onto her face.

Oliver cocked his head forward “One but you’re not going to like it!”

“Why?”

“Remember how I told you never to go down sideways?”

Abigail nearly stopped in her tracks but Archibald sprinted past, clasping her hand tight and pulled her forward.

“Yeah we’re going sideways. Straight ahead, get up here Archie!”

Archibald glanced backwards, the massive wall of claws and sliver eyes just a few feet behind.

Oliver whistled to get his attention “We know what’s behind us, I need you to clear what’s ahead or else we’re not going to make it! Get up here merc!”

Archibald let out a shaky breath and pushed further, dragging Abigail close behind.

The trio spotted Oliver’s idea: A split in the path. One path curved to the side, the dimly lit main path that led to Haven’s Nest. The other was not so much a path as it was a void of darkness, a path that sloped downward into the unknown.

“Oliver!” Abigail cried.

“We can die now or we die later!” Oliver firmly answered “And at least later we might not die, now go!”

Abigail nearly let go of Archibald’s hand but the mercenary gave her a comforting squeeze. He turned to her and spoke wordlessly with a simple smile.

I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.

She took a shaky breath but nodded in understanding.

The trio threw themselves at the opening, sailing through the air for a moment before landing with a dull thud onto the stony floor. Before any of them could react, they began sliding forward, the slope pushing them further deep into the dark.

Oliver’s lute dimly lit the tunnel the little they traveled. It must’ve been a heartbeat or two when the group found themselves tumbling across the straighten floor.

“Get up!” Oliver shouted, pulling the other two to their feet “We need to get going.”

“Where!?” Abigail cried “There’s nowhere to go!”

Archibald elbowed Oliver and pointed out a strange silhouette outlined in the darkness of the cavern.

“Is that a house?” Abigail’s voice asked with disbelief “Down here? That’s creepy.”

“And probably bad news.” Oliver admitted as he pushed the two towards the strange house cloaked in shadows “but later is later! Go go go!”

The claws echoed faintly from the tunnel but the trio had already reached the pouch of the home.

It was oddly similar to Abigail’s home though in much worse shape: Faded, splintered wood with dull peeling paint. The windows were blackened out with dust and the house creaked unhappily as they climbed the porch steps. The door swung open by itself and while that gave Abigail pause, Oliver shoved them in, shutting the door behind them and locking it.

“This is a bad idea.” Abigail panted breathlessly.

Oliver wiped the sweat off his brow “Hopefully we’ll live to regret it.”

“I doubt it.” A voice called from the shadows.

Oliver and Archibald threw themselves forward, pushing Abigail behind them in a defensive formation.

The air was thick with creak, creak, creak of heavy boots walking down some unseen stairs.

A figure appeared before them. He was taller than anyone else here with an old tattered riding cloak draping his massive figure. Brown eyes peered curiously under his hood, his thick beard black and gray. His armor was dented and worn with a faded symbol of a sun across his chest.

“You do not know where you roam children.” the stranger’s voice spoke, melodic and deep.

“At least we’re alive right?” Abigail offered hopefully.

“No you were right.” Oliver eyed the stranger’s symbol distastefully “This is was a terrible idea.”

Abigail leaned in, dropping her voice to a whisper “Is he bad news? A thief or murderer or something?”

“Worse.” Oliver glared openly “A paladin.”

[glorifiedsnickersbar]

Farthest North

Chapter 7 - Value

Word count: 1171

         "Japan has always been... an interesting character," China admitted, rolling up the sleeves of his knit sweater as Alaska served an interesting dish, what she called Moose Meat Mince Meat. A simple pie crust filled with a sweet smelling combination of meat, raisins and whatever made it as good as China failed to believe as he took another bite.

         "She has a certain charm to her," Alaska chuckled, sitting down just across from him at the table, a simple square made of wood slats and old tire rims for the base, the chairs being cut stumps that had been polished and sealed so that the wood didn't decay.

China nodded, swallowing his fifth bite before speaking again.

         "If you do become a Country I will agree to your terms of trade," he continued the earlier conversation, "But I may require at least one Alaskan desert a month."

The two chuckled at this, the simple jest almost not a joke as China let his usual strict eating regime be forgotten for this measly hour or so. 

         "Your lifestyle reminds me of mine, a long time ago," he told her, "Simple, very little to worry about. We're far from that now." 

His voice held an amount of regret in it, but it quickly vanished as he changed the subject to whom the State had met so far. She had started these meetings on December 10th. In 24 days she had spoken to 120 countries in order to establish a friendship, partnership, or at least find who her enemies would be. No one had heard of her visit with Russia, luckily, and she didn't plan on giving out that information until she became a Country, and no one seemed to brush that topic for... obvious dysfunctional reasons.

         "You're my last meeting today," Alaska informed as she lifted herself up from the stool, "My schedule has never been busier!" 

Her laugh was witty, and it filled the air with its inviting tone.

         "I'm afraid that's often how it is as a Country," China told her, not to scare her off, just as a friendly warning, "Unless you're Russia, Canada or America," he rolled his eyes, not noticing the hesitance as Alaska reached for the hot chocolate mix in the high cupboards. Not even China could reach as high as she.

         "Yet they have managed to stay afloat for so many years," she chuckled, the witty sound gone, "It's hard to understand sometimes."

         "Indeed," China nodded, thanking her for the hot chocolate.

     Wind rattled the windows outside, making the Country jump as a loose stick hit the window. At least he thought it was a stick, until Alaska hurried to the door, opening it to reveal a wounded bird that had hit the window. It's black feathers were ruffled, wing bent at an odd angle. The creature gasped for air as it blinked, stunned by the impact.

         "I swear your kind are as dumb as a box of rocks," Alaska muttered as she pulled out a ready made box from a large wardrobe, fancifully carved into, and placed the bird inside, "I'm awfully sorry," she told the Country, who was now standing as he watched the caring State.

         "It's quite alright," China assured, "We've discussed most business already. That is quite a large Crow..." he commented, and the woman chuckled, her original mirth back.

         "It's not a Crow," she replied, "It's a Raven. Crows are farther south, near Anchorage. I live too far up."

China nodded, not knowing what else to say, so he said nothing. before making a short 'of course,' when Alaska asked him to get something for the bird to eat. He asked what exactly, and she said anything will do, as long as it was food, a short laugh following afterword. China decided that this bird was a scavenger. He didn't exactly want to share the mince meat pie with something that wouldn't appreciate the time and perfection put into it, so he looked around the short counter, finding a muffin, only to find that it was an unfrosted cupcake, a blue and gold candle sticking up, almost completely burnt out.

         "There might be some venison in the fri-" she stood up, finding the Country holding what was going to be her little celebratory snack, and frowned.

         "Today... is your birthday?" He looked to the taller woman, who simply nodded, a melancholic smile on her face.

         "January third. My statehood."

         "No one has called?" he questioned, "Texted, sent a letter, invited you over, visited?"

All these earned a shaking of Alaska's head, yet she still smiled.

         "How long have you had this candle?" China then asked.

         "Since January third, 1959." She answered, taking the unfrosted cupcake from his loose grip before he dropped it. "I've made it last 60 years. My entire statehood.* USSR, when he was Russian Empire, never celebrated my birthday, so I don't know when my original birthday was. But I'm hoping to have a third. A new birthday."

She placed it delicately back on the counter before tearing a piece off, and striding over to the stunned Raven, who gladly took it, eating it with great vigor. She fixed his wing with a tourniquet made of thin cloth and sticks, doing some mental math as she guessed how long it would take for its wing to heal.

     While she pet the Raven, China wondered how someone could be so cruel... This State didn't deserve the neglect she was receiving. She had so much potential, yet no one recognized it because... because what? Everyone had value, yet no one saw hers... because while others gave money, pleasure or threats to get what they wanted, she gave what she knew was fair. China doubted anyone could bribe her. A few extra imports? She'll pay for those how she agreed to, not in dirty handed dealings. He doubted anyone could threaten her successfully. Missiles? She has an entire Air Force base dedicated to deflecting such attacks. This was a State not easily rattled into submission, and she was tired of playing the 'help', the 'fallback', the gold mine easily extracted from. She had been preyed upon by selfish Countries for so long... now it was her turn to be selfish, and get the credit she deserves. 

         "How would you like to come with me to my land?" China questioned, "You can have whatever you like as my birthday gift to you."

Alaska took a moment to register his words. Slowly looking up to the man in her comfy log cabin. The Raven nibbled at her crumb covered fingers.

         "But... I am not part of your-"

         "You are grown," he helped her up off the floor, looking up at the dark blue woman before him, "That practically makes you an independent Country already."

     And so the strict Country, always focused on tradition and form, let his own beliefs slide to make the lonely State of Alaska smile. To make her feel noticed, to make her feel... valued.

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

* According to the date 2019

[zombie-snape]

Here’s my half of a fic swap I did with my wonderful co-writer and gf. 

@trekmemes asked for Newt and Anathema getting lost in the woods and the Them finding them.

~

“Anathema...I think we might be lost.” Newt called as he spun in circles in the middle of a cluster of trees. 

“No! We are not!” Anathema said back. She was sitting on a stump, a map spread across her lap. 

Anathema had wanted to go mushroom hunting in the Hogback woods and Newt was hoping for a romantic stroll through the woods with his girlfriend. But now they were horribly lost, no matter what Anathema said differently. Newt sighed and flopped onto the ground next to Anathema’s stump. He pulled out his phone to check the service but there was still none. The whole wood was a dead zone. 

**

Adam and the rest of the Them were waiting in the Jasmine Cottage front garden. They had been invited over for afternoon tea with Anathema and Newt but neither person was home. They were very late.

Brian sighed heavily while he sat shredding grass. “Shouldn’t they be back by now?”

“Well, actually. The note on the door said they are mushroom hunting in the woods.” Wensley said. 

“Afternoon tea time is now. They didn’t say anything about having it in the woods.” Adam said.

“Maybe they got lost?” Pepper offered. 

That perked everyone up. 

“Do you think?” Brian asked brightly.

“If they were…” Adam had the gleam in his eye that said adventure was around the corner. “We’d have to go save them.”

“Yeah!” Pepper cheered. 

**

“Don’t all those survival shows say to stay where you are if you get lost?” Newt said as Anathema led them through the woods. 

“Hogback isn’t that big, we’ll end up in town eventually.” Anathema said confidently. 

Newt made a face, “the Antichrist played in these woods, how do we know Adam didn’t make it bigger somehow?”

Anathema rolled her eyes, “I would know if he’d done something like that. I could sense it.”

“You could?” Newt asked doubtfully. He might be dating a witch and helped to stop the apocalypse but he was still very skeptical about magic. It didn’t help that Anathema enjoyed making up powers to mess with him, like saying she could control geese and that’s why they always chased him. 

“Yes! Now come along.”

**

Adam and his gang were armed with various people rescuing items as they entered the Hogback woods. Wensley had some snacks packed away and Pepper had a first aid kit. Brian was bringing along a large stick in case of wild animals (they wouldn’t see anything more vicious than a squirrel but they could pretend) and Adam had Dog, who was tasked with sniffing out Anathema and Newt. 

“Do you think they got hurt?” Brian asked (he asked it with a little more enthusiasm than what was polite when talking about potentially injured persons). 

“That’s why I brought the first aid kit!” Pepper said. 

“Or they’re snogging.” Brian said. 

There was a chorus of “ews” in reply. They were all scarred from the time they saw Anathema and Newt kissing on the bench in the front garden of Jasmine Cottage. 

“I think they probably just got lost.” Wensley said.

“Yeah. Stop talking about snogging.” Said Adam and the Them all went silent after that. 

**

“AGHhhh!!” Newt yelled. His foot had caught a tree root and he tumbled to the ground. 

“Newt!” Anathema hurried over to help him back up. “Are you okay? You need to watch where you’re going!”

“Ouch.” Newt whined. He went to put pressure on the foot the had caught the root and winced, “ouch.” He repeated. 

“Can you walk?”

“Yeah, I think so. Just hurts.” He limped forward a bit.

Anathema sighed. “Let’s just sit down for a bit and rest.”

Newt flopped down onto a fallen tree in relief.

**

“Oh! Look at this!” Brian called.

The Them clustered around a bush that Brian was standing by. He was pointing at a bit of fabric caught in the branches. 

“You think it’s a clue?” Wensley asked Adam.

“Yeah.” Adam picked the piece of fabric off the bush and held it down for Dog to sniff. “Go find them!” Adam told Dog.

Dog sniffed the fabric and wagged his tail wildly. He yipped loudly then put his nose to the ground and took off through the woods. 

“Come on!” Adam yelled and the group of kids raced after Dog. 

**

“Do you hear something?” Anathema asked suddenly, causing Newt to jerk awake.

“Huh? What?” Newt blinked stupidly at her.

“It sounds like a dog barking.” She paused for a moment before her face lit up in realization. “Dog! Dog!” She called loudly. 

A little black and white dog shot out of the trees and ran towards them. Anathema beamed as she bent to pet Dog. 

“Good boy! Did you find us all by yourself? Clever boy.” She said while scratching behind his ears. 

A moment later the Them burst through the trees and rushed towards the couple. 

“We found you!” Brian cheered.

“Are you hurt?” Pepper asked.

“Do you need any snacks?” Wensley asked.

“Good dog.” Adam said giving Dog a few pats. 

“Newt fell and hurt is ankle but otherwise we’re fine.” Anathema told them. Pepper immediately hurried over to take a look at Newt’s ankle despite his protests that he was fine.“Did you all come looking for us?”

Adam nodded, “you were late for afternoon tea.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Anathema said.

“It’s alright. It was fun looking for you.” Adam reassured her. “You know you aren’t very far from your cottage, right?”

“We aren’t?” 

“Yeah, I think you were going in circles the whole time.”

“Oh fuck.” Anathema muttered under her breath as Newt yelled, “what!!” loudly from his spot on the log.

~

I’m still doing prompts! I currently have two waiting. I took a break last week for depression reasons but I’m feeling better this week. I’m also working on the last chapter of Won’t You be My Neighbor!

[alice1290]

Read All About It - An Ace/OC fanfic - Chapter 6

Strolling hand in hand down the streets of Fishman Island made it almost feel as if they were a normal couple, not a pirate captain and a Revolutionary.

“So, my partner gave me a good nickname.”

“Better than missus?” Ace teased.

She rolled her eyes. “Yes. He called me the Revolutionary Spade. Really the Red-haired Revolutionary Spade, but that’s a bit much.”

“Eh, too long for a bounty poster. Revolutionary Spade is better.”

Ashina shot him a playful glare. “I’m still trying to not obtain one of those.”

“Sorry, missus,” he teased, gently bumping her shoulder. “with me you’ll end up with one in no time. Just wait ‘til Isuka knows your name: Ashina the Revolutionary Spade.”

“Ugh, at least with Missus they don’t know my real name.”

Ace laughed and let go of her hand, only to loop his arm over her shoulders and pull her closer. “I’m hungry,” he said, catching the smell of food in the air. “Let’s get some food.”

When he spotted the ramen shop, he remembered it being one of her favorite foods, so he dragged her inside with him. The menu was small, but the place smelled amazing.

They ordered and true to her normal self, Ashina only ate one bowl. It was a large bowl, but still, Ace wondered if she ate enough sometimes.

“Are you sure you’re full?” he asked, swallowing a mouthful of noodles and meat.

She giggled. “Yes, Ace. Are you? That’s your eighth bowl.”

“Almost.”

Ashina giggled again, propping her head up on her fist, elbow resting on the bartop. “You really are a bottomless pit.”

As soon as he was finished Ace grabbed her hand and strolled out of the restaurant.

“Ace, what are you-”

They made it a few paces down the street with the store owner shouted.

“Stop them! They haven’t paid.”

“Come on!” Ace shouted, breaking out in a run.

Ashina kept pace with him, grumbling at him for his dine and dash antics. By the time they outran the people chasing them, and were officially lost someone on the island, she was laughing. They came to a stop and Ashina bent over, hands on her knees, as she tried to catch her breath between laughter.

“What the hell, Ace, I could have paid.”

“Sorry, it’s a bit of a habit.”

She rolled her eyes as he shrugged. Ashina looked around as she stood straight. “Why don’t we find our way back to the market and then to the ship. The log pose should be set soon.”

Ace grinned. “Let’s go.”

It was easy to find their way back to the heart of the city by the noise of the crowd. Ace stayed close to her as they weaved their way through fishmen, merfolk, and other humans. His hand occasionally touched the small of her back, directing her one way or another since he could see over the crowd better than her.

“Thanks to you and all that running, now I want a snack,” she commented.

“You should have eaten more ramen.”

“I was full then!”

Ace just laughed, but his eyes scanned the streets around them. He pointed to the left and grinned. “There’s a takoyaki stand over there.”

“Oo!” she squealed with excitement and took his hand, dragging him behind her through the crowd. “Hurry up, Ace.”

They reached the stand and Ashina looked over the selection. “I’ll take one regular and one spicy, please.”

The fishman behind the stand expertly flipped four of the regular little balls into a cup and handed it to her before doing to the same from the pile of spicy takoyaki. Ashina handed Ace the spicy one and then dug out the requested amount of beri from her pouch. Once she paid, she looped her free arm through his and they started walking again.

She dropped his arm once they were clear of the crowd, and popped one of the little balls into her mouth. She hummed in satisfaction. “That’s yummy. Ramen and takoyaki, we’re going to make our way back to Fishman Island one day, just for the food. By the way, you never did say what the fight with Draw was about.”

Ace scratched the back of his head, ruffling his hair. “Oh, well… uh… he offered me a position as a Shichibukai, and I said no.”

“He did what?” Ashina stopped walking and stared at Ace with wide, surprised eyes. “Wait, you said no?”

“The Shichibukai work for the World Government, and I don’t want to answer to them. I’m a pirate, not a marine’s dog.” Ace looped his arm back around her waist and pulled her closer. “Come on,” he said, starting to walk again.

Ashina smiled as she fell into step with his pace. “They won’t like that you turned down their offer.”

“Draw didn’t. He did say he doesn’t like the idea of the Shichibukai either, but he got mad I rejected the offer. He set fire to some buildings and risked some people’s lives just to push my buttons. He pissed me off, and we started fighting.”

Ashina grinned as they reached the ship. “Your bounty is going to increase because of that, you know that, right?”

“That’s a good thing.” He gave her a big grin making Ashina laugh.

“Let’s go, Fire Fist.”

.

.

.

“So, Captain, where are we headed now?” Saber asked as the rest of the crew gathered on the deck of the Spadille.

The question caught Ashina’s attention and she looked up from the book in her hand. Ace grinned at the crew. “I’m going to find the man who saved my brother’s life when he was a little kid. Luffy used to talk all the time about Red-haired Shanks, so I’m going to find him and thank him.”

Ashina felt the blood drain from her face. Ace had never asked about her parents, and she’d never volunteered the information. In all of their late-night conversations, after the moments that shared Ace’s admittance that Gol D Roger was his father, they didn’t talk about it. Ace knew he mother was gone and that he father was somewhere out in the world, but… now it felt like she was going to have to come clean.

“Rumor I heard in the market is that he’s on a winter island,” Saber said.

Ace nodded. “We’ll go there first and see where the journey takes us. When I finally encounter Whitebeard, I’ll prove I’m going to be King of the Pirates.”

“Um… Ace,” Ashina began, getting to her feet. “I feel like now might be a good time to mention something.”

“What?” he asked, clearly confused. “I know you don’t like the cold, but-”

She cut him off with a dismissive wave of her hand and blurted, “Red-haired Shanks is my father.”

Deuce and Saber’s eyes practically popped out of their heads and Banshee gave an unlady-like curse. Mihar and Skull shared a chuckle. Ace stared at her.

“What?” Ace managed to stammer out.

“Red-haired Shanks is my father,” she repeated.

“Oh. Well…” He looked unsure of what to say next as he shuffled his feet.

“It’s okay!” Ashina blurted reassuringly. Ace, I love my Papa. He’ll be surprised to see me I’m sure, since the last time he saw me he was leaving me on the doorstep of the Revolutionary Army. It’s been five years, I’d like to see him.”

Ace beamed and pulled her in for a hug, keeping an arm around her waist and close to his side as he turned to face the crew. “Set sail, men!”

Ace gave orders as Ashina stood beside him and the crew scurried around the deck as they set sail out from Fishman Island, preparing to enter the New World. Her first adventure on the second half of the Grand Line and she was going to see her father.

“Hey, Ace?”

“Huh?” He stopped giving orders and looked down at her.

“It might be a good idea to notlet my father know we’re a thing. I’d hate for him to kill you.”

Ace frowned, but nodded, agreeing to her suggestion.

“How’re we going to find him? Which island do we travel to?” Deuce asked, stopping beside them.

“Oh!” Ashina exclaimed, slipping a hand into her pouch. “I have the solution for that.” She withdrew the slip of blank paper. “I have his vivre card.”

.

.

.

“Can you use your Haki to tell where they are?” Ace asked.

He was standing close behind her, keeping her warm with his internal fire. “I could, but the vivre card will lead us to him.”

She shivered and Ace pulled her closer, keeping an arm wrapped around her front. It wasn’t snowing right now, but the cold, biting wind was relentless. “Let’s get moving then.”

It wasn’t long into their trek that the snow began. The further into the snowy mountains they walked, the harder the wind blew and the more snow fell.

“The snow storm is getting worse. Even with your extra heat,” Mihar commented.

“We’ll keep going until we find them.”

“Are you serious, Captain?” Saber yelled.

“I want to meet him. We keep going no matter what.”

Ashina just shook her head, trudging through the freezing snow behind Ace. Being near him was slightly warmer than the surrounding temperature, but that would end as soon as they reached her father. She didn’t want to give him any ideas that Ace and her were in fact lovers, mainly because she preferred her lover alive. It was late as they neared the cave opening and the sound of voices and smell of wood smoke reached them.

She already dreaded the idea of having to sleep through the night not curled up to Ace. Ashina fell back into the mix of the crew as they reached the mouth of the cave, suddenly nervous to see her father again. Deuce picked up on her actions, and stepped to the left, effectively blocking her from view.  

“Who goes there?” One of the Red-Haired Pirates yelled out, Ashina recognized Yassop’s voice.

“I’m Captain Portgas D Ace of the Spade Pirates.”

“So,” a voice Ashina instantly recognized as her father’s answered. “The Spade Pirates? The famous Super Rookies… have come for me?” The slick of his sword being partially withdrawn echoed in the quiet cave.  

“No, no that’s not what I’m here for,” Ace said quickly, shaking his hands in front of him. “My little brother owes you his life and he never stopped talking about you growing up! I just wanted to meet you and say thanks.”

“You mean Luffy?” Shanks replied excitedly, letting his sword fall back into its sheath. “I never knew he had a brother! I see. I’m glad you came. Please tell me more.”

“Oh, sure,” Ace hesitated and looked behind him, eyes scanning his crew, before he turned back to the Yonko. “but I brought another surprise.”

Ace turned sideways, looking back at Ashina, who was still partially hidden by Deuce, and she took a breath before stepping forward. Shanks took her in and his eyes widened as his smile grew bigger.

“Hi, Papa.” She gave him a small smile and a little wave.

“My baby girl!” Shanks jumped up.

“She ain’t a baby no more,” one of the men near the back of the cave said, earning a glare from Shanks before he turned his attention back to Ashina.

Shanks swept her up with his one arm, easily lifting her off her feet. All the worry and nerves left her instantly as she relaxed into the strong, loving embrace of her father. She returned the hug just as fiercely, burying her face in the collar of his shirt to inhale the familiar scent of ocean, sweat, booze, and something distinctly Shanks. She pressed a kiss to his cheek as he set her back on her feet.

“What are you doing in the New World with pirates?” he questioned, a teasing grin on his face. “I dropped you with the Revolutionary Army, not Rookie pirates.”  

Ashina shrugged. “Got separated on a mission for Dragon. Orders were to stay with the Spades for now. Maybe he wants to see what’s happening on this side of the world? Who knows?” She skirted around the real truth that Dragon gave her a choice and she chose to stay with Ace… for a multitude of reasons.

Shanks seemed to accept her answer and nodded, but turned a hard gaze to Ace. “Keep an eye on my daughter, Rookie.”

Ace nodded quickly. “Yes, sir.”

Shanks grinned then and spun around to his men. “Let’s have a party!”

.

.

.

This was awful. The idea of Ashina not sleeping beside him, curled into his warmth as she did every night never crossed his mind. Every night she lay in his arms, but not this one, and he felt a fool for not understanding sooner what she meant when she said to not let her father know they were a thing. All night she avoided being near him, because when they were near, they gravitated closer and always wound up touching.

Of course, her sleeping with him would clue her father in to the truth of their relationship. A truth he wasn’t sure he wanted to face the consequences for, because there would be consequences. One arm or not, Shanks was still a powerful Yonko, and Ace wasn’t wishing to test the man’s ability.

Ace glanced across the room and spotted those green orbs in the dying light of the fire. Ashina couldn’t sleep either. They stared at each other across the cave, neither speaking for fear of waking the others. Ace watched as she silently sat up and then stood. She made no sound as she tiptoed her way gracefully around the sleeping bodies of two pirate crews, keeping her blanket hugged tight to her shoulders. She folded herself gracefully down to the ground, and he scowled at her, even as he lifted his own blanket for her to slide in beside him.

Ashina hummed softly in her throat as she pressed her back against his chest. He amped up his internal temperate and she hummed softly again. Ace pressed his lips into her hair as he slipped a hand around her waist to pull her impossibly closer.

“What happened to not letting him know we’re together?” Ace asked softly, a teasing lilt to his voice.

He felt her shrug one shoulder. “It’s cold and I can’t sleep without you.”

“Your father is going to kill me in the morning. You know that, right?” he whispered in her ear.

She turned in his embrace to face him and dipped her head below his. Her lips pressed against the hollow of his throat. “Maybe, but it will be worth the warm night of sleep.”

He could feel the smile on her lips and huffed out a breath through his nose before pressing his lips to the top of her head. He couldn’t argue with her logic and he’d use any excuse to hold her slender frame against his.

.

.

.

The morning sun was beginning to rise and fill the cave with light when Shanks woke up. It took him a moment to remember it was real, but he quickly turned his head to look at his daughter. She was no longer on the mat she had fallen asleep on, and he frowned. He scanned the cave, scowling when he spotted her red hair.

“What you make o’ that, Captain?” Benn spoke quietly from beside him, already awake.  

Shanks’ frown deepened as he studied the pair. They were lying facing each other and the curve and ripple of the blanket made it obvious the Rookies’ arm was curled tight around her waist, holding her close to his chest. His other arm pillowed her head. Her red hair was wild around them and the boy’s nose was buried in the wavy locks.

“I don’t like it, whatever it is.”

“You left her alone at fourteen with the Revolutionaries. Had to of known she’d grown up.”

Shanks sighed, unable to take his eyes away from his little girl, who was clearly no longer a little girl. “She’s growing up too soon. It shouldn’t be time for her to be doing…” he waved his hand at the sleeping pair. “things with boys.”

“Ace isn’t a boy, and she’s not a little girl anymore, Boss. At least she found a strong man.”

Shanks glared at Benn. “He’s still a Rookie… and I don’t have to like him, especially seeing as his hands are on my daughter… but he … he looks familiar,” Shanks trailed off, studying the sleeping Rookie.

“How so?”

Shanks shook his head. “What are the chances though?”

“Of what, Boss?” Benn asked, not following his captain’s random train of thought.

“I think he’s Roger’s kid,” Shanks breathed out.

Shanks stared hard at the dark mop of hair. It was dark and wavy like his former Captain’s had been. He’d caught glimpses of Roger’s ghost in Ace’s smile and eyes in firelight of the party. He’d also noticed the shared glances between him and Ashina. Shanks should have known they’d be together. He tried not to think too much on how they passed their time, he was more worried about her future. Being a pirate was dangerous, and the Rookie had big dreams. Ashina was smart, and strong, but a father worried for his daughter.

His only child. He knew she would remain secret no longer. Her secrecy was his only request to Dragon when he left her with the Revolutionary Army five years ago. Keep her secret, she’s already a skilled kunoichi like her mother, train her to be stronger, stealthier, help her remain unseen, unknown. With Ace, the Marines would soon learn of her, and there would be no mistaking who her father was. Shanks only hoped Ashina was ready for the dangers she would encounter here in the New World. He also hoped the young man, who he was positive was his captain’s son, would be strong enough to protect himself and her.

.

.

.

“Where’s Papa?” Ashina asked, looking around the cave in the early morning light.

“Went outside since the snow storm calmed,” Benn answered. He gave her a knowing look. “Was wanting to speak to you.”

Ashina frowned slightly but nodded. She pulled her fur cloak tighter around her shoulders and headed out of the mouth of the cave. He wasn’t far from the entrance, perched on a snow-covered boulder near one of the only, scraggly evergreen trees that stood near the cave. He looked up as she walked over, but did not speak. She hopped up onto the rock and leaned into his side. She still found it strange sometimes that he was missing his left arm. She remembered when it was still there and the year he had returned and it was gone.

“The Rookie’s Devil Fruit seems to have lessened the snow storm,” Shanks commented, breaking the silence.

“He’s strong.”

Shanks snorted. “He’s young and reckless.”

“Weren’t you young and reckless once?”

Shanks grinned at her. “You callin’ your old man old?”

Ashina giggled and shook her head. “Never, Papa.” Ashina paused and then added. “Ace is strong and he’ll only get stronger.”

“Strength is good, Ashina, but it will bring danger.”

“I’m not afraid,” she stated with confidence.

Shanks kissed the top of her head. “Of course you’re not. You’re your mother’s daughter after all. You look like her more and more each time I see you, Ashina.”

He was quiet for a moment and they both watched the softly falling snow. “I wasn’t much older than you when you were born.”

“Papa…” Ashina cut in, hoping he wasn’t going there. Her mother gave her the embarrassing sex talk, and she didn’t really want to hear her father stumble through it.

“I want you to be careful, Ashina.”

“We are careful, Papa.”

“We? So you are having sex with the Rookie?” Shanks leaned back, his eyes narrowed and his cheeks slightly red with anger.

Ashina waved a dismissive hand. “He’s not my first, Papa.”

Shanks waved his hands in front of him and shouted. “I don’t want to know this about my baby girl! Now I have two boys to murder. It is just two, yes?”

“Papa!” Ashina felt her cheeks burn from her blush. He wasn’t wrong, but she wasn’t going to admit that either.

Shanks smiled good naturedly and bumped his shoulder to hers. “Please be careful, Ashina. You have big dreams. I hope you still have those dreams. Don’t let them go because of a boy.”

“I still want to change the world, Papa, and I can still do that being a Spade pirate. But… you know, I didn’t stop your dreams.”

Shanks sighed. “I wasn’t a good father either.”

Ashina frowned and took his hand in hers. “Of course you were, you are, Papa. Just because you weren’t there all the time doesn’t mean you were a bad father. You’re a pirate Papa, I learned what that meant and how much it meant to you. A pirate drop anchor in one place? Papa you’d be bored out of your mind,” she said on a giggle, making him smile. She paused for a beat and then added softly. “I don’t plan on babies, Papa.”

“Things happen, Ashina.”

“Well, fuck, Papa don’t jinx me! Jeez. We’re careful. I’m careful. I promise.”

“Good. I want you to be happy. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to wring the Rookie’s neck for touching my daughter.”

Ashina giggled and leaned in to kiss his cheek. “I think you’re allowed to feel that way, just please don’t act on it.” She rested her head on his shoulder and he squeezed her hand.

“I love you, Papa.”

“Love you, Baby Girl.”

.

.

.

Shanks wasn’t ready to tell Ashina goodbye as they stood next to the Spadille in the late morning sun. Growing up, he’d made it happen where he could see her once a year, with the exception of a few times where it just didn’t work, for a few days. Then she’d traveled with him for a year before he dropped her with the Revolutionary Army on Baltigo. That was five years ago. She was nineteen now, a young woman in her own right, but she would always be his little girl. It worried him that he didn’t know when he’d see her again. Not to mention the lurking, deaded thought of ifand not when.

“Stay safe,” he whispered, pulling her into a hug.

Her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. “I will, Papa. You be careful.”

“Don’t worry about me, baby girl.” he said to her, keeping her held tightly to his chest. “Keep up your training, okay?”

Ashina nodded.

“Good. I won’t have to worry too much then. Until next time, baby girl.” Shanks kissed the top of her head and then let her go.

Ashina stepped back, and then lunged forward to hug her father once more before turning to board the Spadille.

“Ace, a word.”

Ace stopped in his tracks, nodding to Ashina to go ahead, and turned back to Shanks.

“I know you and my daughter are… together. Break her heart and you’re going to join the one-arm club, and if she gets hurt, or worse, I’m going to kill you, got it, Rookie?” Shanks asked Ace in a low voice giving him a deadly stare.

“Got it.”

“Good.” Shanks stepped back, clapped him on the shoulder and smiled at Ace. “Safe travels.”

“Yeah, uh, thanks. It was nice to meet you, Shanks.”

Ace turned on a dime and quickly boarded the ship.

Shanks waved goodbye to Ashina, who stood at the rail of the ship, waving back to him.  Ace gave the orders for the crew to set sail, and Shanks watched as he came to stand beside Ashina, an arm looping around her waist.

Benn chuckled from beside him. “You’re maturing as you age, Captain. I half expected you to not let her go with the Rookie.”

Shanks laughed, but then sobered, eyes watching the ship was the sails unfurled and she picked up speed, carrying his daughter away from him once more. “Eh. As much as I’d like to castrate the boy for being with my daughter, I can’t hold her back. Tsuna would never forgive me for not letting our girl chase her dreams and be free.”

[alienduckpond]

Back in town - ch 3 - BooBoo Pouch

1 - Good Day / 2 - Different Feelings

Accidents happen, and it’s always good to be prepared for them

-~-

Whistling as he let himself into Ella’s yard, Arlo looking around curiously at the machines she’d set up in various places.

“Hey Ella? You here?”

“Hey Arlo,” drifted back to him, her voice sounding from somewhere in the group of trees beyond her fence. “I’ll just be a minute, and then I’ll come play host properly for you.”

There was a grunt, then a muttered swear, and he chuckled as he walked over to her grinder, moving the basket of baked goods he’d picked up from Martha behind him to keep it out of the way of all the moving parts.

“No rush, I’ve got all afternoon,” he called, leaning down to watch as a hunk of bronze was flattened.

“Oh? What happened to all those jobs that’ve kept you from seeing me all week then?” she asked teasingly, sounding a little closer, and he rolled his eyes as he huffed a laugh.

“I delegated,” he said flatly, earning him the laugh he’d been hoping for, turning from the grinder to eye the large pile of wood waiting to be turned into planks, and then the even larger pile of neatly stacked boards. He winced slightly, remembering the half heard conversation between her and Emily about how chilly her house was, and the strange things she’d found in some of the holes in the walls and floor. He’d meant to clear out the ‘haunted house’ before the new builder arrived, but had completely forgotten.

“Sam can handle all the monster requests for the other builders today,” he told her, forcing himself to be blandly cheerful, and not let his guilt through. “And Remy has neater handwriting than me anyway for the reports. And the boys are grounded for the next two weeks after their little stunt the other day. Alice has got them watering her flowers and weeding, so I don’t need to run around making sure they aren’t in trouble.”

“Good! Because I was going to tie you to the chair and barricade the door so no one could steal you away otherwise,” she said, hardly shouting now, and he shook his head fondly.

He was glad she was making jokes about it, since he really did feel guilty over what had happened. Their lunch together the first day had been thoroughly sidetracked by Oaks, and then he’d had to leave to go investigate the monster Abu had reported. And then all his work at the Corps had left him with barely enough time to sit down, let alone get more than a quick hello as he raced past Ella each day. 

“Don’t worry. I have the entire rest of the day off, bar something big like the sky falling, something catching on fire, or pirates showing up. I’m looking forward to hearing what you got up to while you were away.”

And finding out who she was now, and what she wanted their relationship to be. While she’d seemed happy to see him that first day last week, throwing herself at him and letting him hug her, ever since she’d seemed to be keeping her distance. She’d been happy to talk to him in the few minutes they’d had as they’d passed each day, but she hadn’t been making any attempts to hug him, or hold his hand, or ruffle his hair, or even call him any of the many names she’d had for him as a child.

If he were honest with himself, he was finding it a little upsetting. It almost felt like something was missing, and it hurt. Like he had his little sister back, but he also didn’t.

“Please don’t jinx us,” she groaned, sounding like she was right behind him. “I’m almost tempted to not bother boiling water now, since you’ll probably have to leave before anything’s ready.”

He laughed as he turned towards where her voice was coming from, opening his mouth to reply, and distantly heard the basket thump to the floor as his fingers went slack. His jaw dropped open while he stared in disbelief at the sight before him. 

Ella was walking around the edge of her fence from the small group of trees just beyond it. A dark branch taller and thicker than she was was balanced on her shoulder, and then a bundle of thinner, lighter coloured branches that all looked as long and round as her arm was dragging behind her by a rope.

She was smiling brightly at him, all toothy grin and shining eyes, like what she was doing was perfectly normal.

“I picked up some tea leaves yesterday from Sophie just for you, because that church lady, Nora was it? Yeah, Nora. She mentioned you like red tea sometimes when you take her to lunch. But maybe we should stick with the apple and orange juice I got from Sonia this morning…”

She kept talking at him as she walked past, something about snacks, not that he really registered it. The branch, if he could even call it that, was more like three times her height he could see now, and looked completely solid. 

His mouth moved, trying to find words to ask the important questions. Like what, why, and how? But his brain wouldn’t engage, and he only managed to make a spluttering sound as his hand rose up to point at her, then the log. She laughed lightly, walking down to the gate and turning so she could walk through it, and he watched as the branch swung wide, wobbling slightly on her shoulder.

“Hmm? Oh, this? It’s for the bridge. I’ve finally got an axe good enough to cut through the bigger trees.” She lifted the hand wrapped in rope to pat the shiny looking bronze axe stuck through her belt, then gave the rope a good yank to bump the bundle of branches in through the gate. 

“Don’t worry,” she continued, sounding incredibly amused as she walked towards him. “I bent my knees and everything when I picked it up. Kendra taught me a whole bunch about making sure I could carry things safely over the years.”

He nodded dumbly as she got closer, eyes glued to the log. It was balanced perfectly on her shoulder, though he could see now that it was taking more effort than she was letting on to keep it there. And now she was next to him, muttering something about where to put it, he could see the impressive muscles in her arms straining against the short sleeve of her t-shirt–

He yelped as the branch swung round and the end of it caught his shoulder, sending him stumbling sideways from the weight of it and tripping over the basket of food. His side hit the edge of the assembly station, driving the air from his lungs and making him gasp, but he ignored it as he scrambled back to his feet when he saw her wobble dangerously, swearing under her breath.

He hobbled forward, prepared to help as she tried to steady herself, but she grunted and simply dropped the wood next to her before he could, letting it land on her cut boards. Wincing as he heard cracking as the neatly stacked pile collapsed, he made himself meet her concerned eyes when they snapped to his face.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I thought I had more space. Are you ok? Where’d I get you?”

“My arm but I’m fine,” he quickly tried to reassure her, wincing at how raspy he sounded as he coughed a few times, meeting her halfway as she walked over to him. “How about you? How’s your shoulder?”

“Don’t worry about me,” she told him tersely. “It was my fault. Here, how bad is it?”

Fingers wrapped around his elbow and gently lifted it, and he grit his teeth to try and stop the wince from showing, but he guessed he failed from the way her brows scrunched closer together.

“I’m sorry about those boards,” he said, hoping to distract her, but she just looked at him flatly, conveying her immense disapproval with a single raised brow.

“Forget about the boards, I can always make more. I can’t make another you. So jacket off, I’m getting you some bruise cream and an ice pack. And a herbal juice. Do you want a plain one, or one I stuck some mint leaves in?”

She let go of him and turned to leave, and he sighed as he grabbed her arm, pulling her back round. Reaching up with his fingers and ignoring the slight twinge in his ribs from moving his arm, he tilted her face to the side. He hissed in sympathy when he saw the grazes on her neck and cheek, and several small bleeding scratches on her shoulder.

“Depends on which one you prefer, since you’re having one too,” he told her bluntly, smirking at her when she glared. “Nope, no arguing, or I won’t let you have the shiny plasters I found for you.”

“I’m not a kid anymore Arlo,” she growled, frown turning into a glare. But her eyes followed his hand as it moved down to his hip anyway, looking puzzled as he patted the belt pouch he’d found at the back of his wardrobe, before she burst into bright laughter.

It was the sickly yellow “Ella’s booboo” pouch they’d made together when she was four, with pink yarn stitching and mis-sized wooden buttons holding the flap down. She reached out and ran her fingers over it, smiling fondly as she giggled. 

“Oh wow,” she drew out, shifting to his side and leaning down to see it better. “I can’t believe you still have this. Or that it’s still in one piece.”

“The yarn isn’t actually holding it together, I sewed the seams with thread on the insides after you were done,” he told her fondly, watching as she flipped the cover and started to look through the supplies he’d filled it with that morning.

“Yeah, and that’s why I’m surprised,” she snarked back, poking her tongue out and winking, and he let himself laugh as he grabbed her elbow.

“Come on, I’ll show you the shiny plasters once I’ve cleaned up your neck. I got a brand new bottle of antiseptic from the clinic as soon as I knew you were here, though I honestly wasn’t expecting to need it so soon.”

“Oh piffle to you Lolo! I was just fine until you stood in the way,” she told him with a laugh, pulling free of him to bend down and grab the basket he’d forgotten about. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed you being careful with your right side. You’re going to stop being all annoyingly protective and big brotherly when we get inside and let me check you out, you hear me?”

He felt his grin grow wider, despite the pain he was in as she stepped forward to reach up and ruffle his hair, squeezing his cheeks together with her other hand. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close and bumping his nose into her forehead.

“I hear you I hear you. And you can check, but I’m not ever going to stop being your annoying big brother,” he told her around the warm, happy feeling bubbling up in his chest. They still needed to talk, but he finally felt like had his little sister back, and he loved it.

-~-

4 - Slip Up

[hnrywinchester]

Fare Thee Well - - 17

Summary: She hasn’t seen Gabriel since he died nine years ago, then a phone call changed everything.

Pairing: Gabriel x OFC

Series Warnings: ANGST, smut, swearing, PTSD Gabriel, Character Deaths, Canon Compliant

Beta’d by: @aquietuniverse

Words: 5.7k

Gabriel never came. The barren trails wound on and on for miles, the cold air freezing her from the inside out as her lungs burned and ached. Lucifer had finally released her once he knew she couldn’t escape, when the rift home was far enough behind them that he knew she’d never find it before dropping dead. She trailed behind him, her feet dragging like anchors as the fatigue set in. She regretted her lack of sleep and food in the hours leading up to this.

“What’s the hold up? Don’t you wanna see little Gabey again before he’s…” Lucifer taunted, dragging his thumb across his throat as he twisted his face into a dying grimace.

“He’s not gonna die!” Liv spat back, wishing she was close enough to hurl her fist at his nose.

“If Michael comes around he is. A powered up Gabe can’t him take on, never mind the pathetic, lovesick state he’s in now. He’s a goner, honey.”

“Shut your mouth.”

“Plus, I need you as collateral. My brother’s prized possession for my son. He’ll take that deal without thinking twice.”

“No one’s holding your spawn hostage.”

“We don’t know that! So until we find out, you’re with me. Come on sis, put a little pep in that step and let’s find our fam!”

This was making perfect sense now. She’d been curious as to why Lucifer was dragging her along with him instead of putting an end to her like she knew he wanted to. She was his brother’s human pet who’d been mouthing off to him just moments before the time to strike had hit. Unsure of whether or not to be thankful for his mercy, she urged her feet to keep going. If anyone was going to find Gabriel in this wasteland, it was him. She continued to call out but still no one came. Her eyes scanned the trees, both the feeling of hope and dread mingling as she prayed to see him alive and not splayed across the ground, his wings seared into the dirt.

Lucifer seemed to know where he was going, like he was following a path, which kept her following along complacently. She hated him. For everything he’d done and ripped away from her, for the things he’d done to Gabriel. Yet here she was depending on him to keep her alive. It was some sick, twisted joke. She wanted to burst into tears, but there was only one angel who saw that side of her and it certainly would never be him. He stopped dead in his tracks, holding his hand up signaling her to stop moving. She heard them. The quiet murmur of voices nearby, the cracking of twigs as their feet crunched along the ground.

“Oh thank Dad! I could use a pick me up,” Lucifer sighed in relief, her face twisting into confusion, “Don’t go runnin’ off now, you’ll die out there. I hear they don’t like humans very much in these parts.”

Her heart was hammering as she watched him walk off. Left to her own devices, standing in the middle of the woods, she felt a fear like she’d never felt before. Her breath shook as she exhaled, her body frozen in place, and when the screams erupted from just out of eyeshot, her eyes snapped shut in hopes that when they reopened she’d find herself waking from a whiskey nightmare.

“Gabriel… please… I need you to hear me,” she begged under her breath, “baby, please. Help me.”

Gabriel never came. Lucifer returned moments later, his eyes glowing red and she despised the relief that washed through her at the sight of him.

“What did you do?” she hissed.

“Got myself a little snack,” Lucifer disclosed, rubbing his stomach, “took out a few of Michael’s cronies, saved your ass. You’re welcome. Now let’s go, we’re close.”

“Close to what?”

“You’ll see. Hop to it, little bunny.”

“I need a break. I’m tired, and cold and hungry! We’ve been walking for hours.”

“Uh, excuse me, Gabe isn’t here right now, please leave your whining at the tone... beeeeeeep.”

His voice was absolutely grating. His facial expressions were enough to boil her blood and her physical misery was doing nothing to keep her emotions in check.

“I can't,” she groaned, “Seriously, I’m freezing. It’s like thirty five degrees and I’m in a t-shirt.”

“Okay,” he droned, “so doesn’t exercise, like, warm you humans up? Walk on missy.”

“Why can’t you just give me your over-shirt? Not like you need it.”

“Because one, that would set the implication that I care. And I don’t. Two, you’re confusing this whole setup with me wanting you alive, and needing you alive.”

“Well I’m gonna be dead here soon either way.”

“Are you always this dramatic? How does he put up with you?”

“All those years of practicing with you I’m guessing.”

Lifting her lip in a snarl, she plopped down onto the ground, not unlike a toddler tantrum, drawing her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. She pinched the skin of her tricep, giving one final push that she could wake up from this and be back in the library with a fair-skinned witch and the devil still in chains. Much to her dismay, she remained where she was, with Satan himself staring at her like he wanted to wring her neck until she was blue.

“I could end you right now,” he threatened, taking a step back towards her.

“Are you gonna make me ask nicely?” she bargained, her mental state rapidly deteriorating.

“I’m just gonna leave you here. Let someone else take care of it.”

“Hope Jack isn’t being held captive somewhere by the Rebel Alliance. Cause there goes your leverage then.”

Miming a plane crash landing on the ground with her hand had to be the last straw. As she dragged her fingers through the dirt, adding sound effects as she went, she was certain her life would be over in a snap.

“Oh you act like you want me to leave you here. As if finding Lover Boy isn’t top priority for you. You need me just as much as I need you,” Lucifer theorized, throwing his hands onto his hips.

“He’ll find me,” she guaranteed.

“If he even knows you’re here. Hasn’t shown up yet and I’m sure you’ve called out to him. ‘Oh Gabe, please come rescue me from your evil brother, he’s holding me hostage… wah wah wah’.”

His mimicking tone had her rolling her eyes but his words had her stomach in a knot. He was right. If she didn’t stick with him, no one would ever even know she was there. Clearly Gabriel was already dead or there was some missing wire in this alternate universe that made him unable to hear her. She hoped for the second, but couldn’t shake the feeling that the first was true.

“Gotcha,” he laughed, clapping his hands.

“Looks like we’re at a stalemate then,” she replied, rising to her feet.

“Oh? How so?”

“You need me in case poor Jack is locked up and I need you to get me to… anyone but you.”

“Difference is, one of us has super strength.”

“Super strength? What are you twelve? Should I go get your super suit?”

“Okay you know what… you need to relearn your place.”

With a snap of his fingers, her mouth was glued shut. Her eyes snapped up to him, wide in anger, as he walked over to her, grabbing her upper arm and pulling her along beside him just as he had before.

“I need to go make a little magic happen, and you’re gonna behave, understand?” he patronized, his voice chiming at her like she was a child, “When I come out, I’ll have a little gift for you, then we’ll be on our way to Gabe and gang. I’ll let you see him one last time before I rip that tongue straight out of your disgusting mouth. Can’t believe he lets you kiss him with that thing.”

Screaming as he tugged at her, the sound muffling in her throat, she fought against his hold. Her thoughts called out again for Gabriel, he had to hear her at some point. Lucifer seemed to think he was still alive, and he’d be able to tell if he wasn’t. He was out there, it was just finding him that was seemingly impossible.

Gabriel sat on the decaying log, his thoughts racing as he mindlessly picked apart leaf after leaf. He could hear his nephew, Jack, babbling in the background, searching for a way to bring Sam back, but Gabriel knew there was none. He thought back to the morning, Liv’s words dancing around in his head.

“Give Jack a chance,” she implored, “If the Winchesters are this hell bent on saving him, there’s some good in him.”

“I never said there wasn’t good in him,” Gabriel replied, lacing his fingers with hers against his thigh.

“No. But I know you’re thinking it. You’re gonna take one look at him and just see Lucifer.”

“No I won’t.”

However, he knew she was right. He’d never even met the kid and he already wanted nothing to do with him. It was no fault of Jack’s, but it was hard to believe any spawn of his brother hadn’t taken a turn for the worse.

“Give him a chance. For me?” she requested again, her voice sweet and soft.

“Yeah, yeah. Promise,” he muttered, averting his eyes as he dreaded what was to come.

As much as he tried, he couldn’t silence the sound of her screaming his name, the calls still muddled and faint as if she were underwater. Why was he imagining her calling for help? She was safe, holed up back at the bunker, why wouldn’t his thoughts just calm down for more than twenty minutes at a time? He raced back to the image of Sam being dragged down that barren passage, the snarls and growls echoing against the walls. It could have been her, it would have been her. She was off her game, they both knew it. She would have been the easiest target, gone before he could even say goodbye.

“Why didn’t you bring him back?” Jack’s accusatory tone snapped Gabriel from his thoughts.

“I’m not strong enough,” Gabriel admitted sadly, watching the young Nephilim’s face fall.

Maybe he never would be again. He was seemingly stuck in this half-powered haze, just enough to grace to keep him an angel but not enough to make him worth a damn. Ineffectual, degenerate little runaway. Loki’s words were ringing truer and truer as the days went on. People were dying, and there was nothing he could do.

Bells began to ring from the entrance to the camp, the same ones that had rung to announce their arrival. The rest of the group turned their attention to the source—clearly whoever this was was unexpected—and that little change perked Gabriel up slightly. He’d burnt down the warding not far from here and panic set in that perhaps he’d opened a door that wasn’t meant to be opened. Just more casualties on his conscience.

Shocked gasps traveled like a wave as Sam came into view. He was covered in blood, his own blood, but the gaping wound on his throat was completely healed. As much as he wanted to be thrilled to see Sam walking and breathing again, he knew this wasn’t coming without a cost, one they would not be happy to pay. Sam went to embrace his mother, and that’s when he saw him. Lucifer. His heart dropped into his stomach as he leapt to his feet. If Lucifer was here, something had gone very awry back home and suddenly the muffled calls to him made perfect sense. She’d been calling for help, and he’d ignored her. His vision began to tunnel, his eyes still locked on his smirking, smug brother as he watched with devious eyes the family reunion happening before them. He had to leave, he needed to get back, to find her. Was she alive? Did she escape somehow? Questions flooded his already overflowing mind and he couldn’t even think straight.

As he prepared to take off into a sprint back towards the rift, a familiar mess of brown caught his eye. Tousled and stumbling, she came into view and his breath of relief was audible. Still in his old t-shirt, now covered in dirt, she looked like she’d been through hell and he didn’t doubt she had, in fact. When she began to notice she was once again in human company, her gaze lifted from the ground, the familiar, now panicked face she’d been praying for the first thing she focused on. Their eyes went wide in relief as they locked, both taking off into a run towards the other.

“Gabe,” she sighed, the breath she’d been holding releasing as her feet began to carry her to him.

The ground crunched beneath their feet, rocks and sticks spraying as they skidded across the dirt. When they met, his arms immediately circled her waist, his knees bending slightly to easily accommodate her leap up into him. Her legs wrapped around his middle as her arms went around his neck and she crushed herself into him, pressing her face into the stubbled skin of his neck. She couldn’t help the whimper that escaped at the comfort of being back in his embrace, his warmth slowly easing her frozen limbs.

“Ssshhh,” he soothed as each of her ragged exhales against his neck were accompanied by a faint whine, nuzzling his nose into her hair.

She could feel his heart hammering in his chest against her own, the rhythmic thud easing the stress of her past few hours, his thumb running gently up and down coaxing her out of her panicked state. She focused on him; not on Lucifer standing just a few feet away or the blood covered Sam embracing his mother, or even the son of the devil that watched on with curious eyes.

“I missed you,” they breathed simultaneously as she pulled her head up to look at him, both of their mouths lifting into small smiles.

Uncaring of the prying eyes, she brushed his hair softly from his face, his head leaning into her touch as he closed his eyes, relishing in the small gesture. For a moment their fears evaporated; they forgot they were in another dimension, a very dangerous one, with two of the most powerful beings to exist standing mere feet away, with another hunting them down. He couldn’t wait any longer, his nose crushed into her cheek as he pressed his lips to hers, when her fingers tangled into his hair it took all of his self control to keep himself composed. As always, he wanted to simply lose himself in her, to quell his self-loathing and shortcomings with the feeling of her against him, surrounding him. Her kisses were soft, filled with purpose and longing, only making his desperation grow.

“You’re freezing,” he noted, pecking one last kiss to the corner of her mouth.

He lowered her gently down to her feet, shrugging his jacket from his shoulders and sliding it on to her. Immediately, she huddled up into it, his warmth still lingering in the sleeves. Her teeth began to chatter, the lingering cold from her long journey to get there was going to take some time to relieve. Cued in to every facet of her wellbeing, as he always was, he wrapped his arms around and pulled her tightly back into his body.

The world droned on around her, but she paid it no mind. She focused on the steady thud in his chest, his gentle arms around her and that familiar, warm, arid smell that would never be replicated by anything on Earth. Every time she thought she’d never see him again, they found their way back to each other. Just like he said. She could hear yelling, but Gabriel was staying silent. Whether that be because he was just as immersed in their reunion as she was or simply because he had nothing to say she wasn’t sure, but it made it easier to concentrate on the rise and fall of his breathing. She was beginning to warm up, her body losing that chilled ache she thought would never go away, her head lolling slightly as she gave in to him.

“Dean,” Gabriel’s voice rumbled against her ear, breaking her from her trance.

“You’ve got the blade,” Dean demanded, urging the angels against each other.

“Stop it,” Jack begged softly, his voice pained.

“He’s the devil, kill him.”

“Stop it!”

Just like that, Jack was gone. Liv could here the sighs coming from Gabriel and Dean, both of their patience wearing thin.

“We’ll go look for him,” Gabriel offered, needing away from the entire group to ease his annoyance.

They travelled in silence, their fingers linked as they walked through the woods, searching for Jack. She knew she shouldn’t be feeling this giddy happiness that was currently working its way through her, but she wasn’t about to stop it. Alternate universe or not, she was here with him— and that was all that had ever mattered.

“You’re quiet. I don’t like when you’re quiet, it’s suspect” he teased, pulling her against him, briefly unthreading his fingers from hers to throw his arm around her shoulders, wiggling them again to signal for her to bring her hand back up to his.

Responding with only a shrug, she laced her fingers with his on her shoulder, leaning her head down onto him. She envisioned them walking like this, twisted around each other, through markets and down the beach, the ocean waves the only audible sound as he shielded her from the breeze. Instead of the barren ground, it was warm sand and the gloomy, apocalyptic haze was replaced with the golden glow of the sun as it set. It almost felt real.

“Hey…” Gabriel whispered, again dragging her from her dream world.

When she looked up she could see the Nephilim pacing back and forth, muttering to himself. He looked distressed, panicked and a pang of nerves jolted her straight back to reality. Gabriel signaled for her to stay put as he continued to approach his nephew, and she gladly followed his direction. She feared for him, knowing that in his weakened state Jack could probably do some serious damage to him.

“Jack… uh, hey buddy. You okay?” Gabriel asked, stepping closer cautiously.

“What’s it like?” Jack barked, his voice harder than his face.

“What’s what like?”

“Love.”

The question surprised them both. Although they couldn’t see each other, their expressions mirrored one another’s, eyebrows furrowed and mouth slightly agape. Liv was ever curious, she so desperately wanted to believe that Jack was good. Deep down she knew it was there, but so was pure evil, and the line had to be difficult to toe.

“What do you mean?” Gabriel continued, stopping at arm’s length of the boy.

“How do you know you love someone?” Jack questioned, his voice now softer, almost childlike.

“That’s a loaded question, kid. I don’t think I’m the one to ask.”

“You love her.”

“Yes…”

“How did you know you loved her?”

For once, Gabriel didn’t have an answer. His eyes turned to Liv, her face seemingly just as curious as the kid’s was. She smiled at him, and although he didn’t have the words for Jack’s question, he could feel the answer burning in his heart right then and there.

“I can’t answer that, Jack,” Gabriel confessed, bringing his attention back to him, “I don’t know. It just… happened. One day, I looked at her and I didn’t want to live another day without seeing her. My life is better because she’s in it. She… knows me. All of me. The good, the bad and the ugly. And she still sticks around. I don’t have to hide around her. Bonus, she’s uber hot. Why? You already got someone in mind there, Romeo?”

“How do you know she loves you?” Jack continued, face twisted in deep thought.

Fuck if he knew. He despised himself, always had. Despite the conceited façade and over-inflated sense of worth, deep down he loathed himself. He was weak and afraid, he’d abandoned everyone when they needed him the most without so much as a second glance back. He’d killed people, sure they may have deserved some punishment, but not death. He saw that now. The thought that anyone like her would waste their time and efforts on someone like him had always been baffling. She could have anyone, and the world was filled with people far better than he was, but she wanted him. That was something he’d never take for granted.

“She forgives me when I don’t deserve to be forgiven,” Gabriel finally affirmed, his eyes again shooting over in her direction.

His reason caused her tears to catch in her throat and running to him was purely reflexive. Her arms wrapped around his neck from behind him as she jumped onto her tiptoes to reach and he immediately crouched slightly to ease her embrace. He could hear the quiet whimpers as she pushed back her emotions; he knew what she was feeling, he felt it too.

“He loves you,” Jack stayed matter-of-factly, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“He does,” she responded, confident and strong.

The conviction in her voice was enough to melt the man in her arms. Whenever he felt like a failure, she was always there to pick him up, intentionally or not. This woman was his entire life. He turned his head, pulling her lips into his, kissing her hard.

“I do,” he whispered against her, before pressing back in towards her.

There was no drug, drink or magic in the world that could replicate the feeling he felt here, her mouth moving in perfect synchronization with his, her fingers gently scratching against his chest. Knowing his nephew was still looking on, he pulled away, not wanting to let himself get too carried away.

“Her heart beats faster when she’s around you,” Jack stated, “Is that what love does?”

“Yeah kid,” Gabriel chuckled, “It is. Why are you asking me about this?”

“I just… want to understand. I know I’m supposed to love my father-“

“Woah, pause, that is a whole different thing. Two different kinds of love. Let me give you a helpful hint, you don’t have to love your family just because they’re your family. Ours sucks, big time. You go out and make your own with people you choose. Fill it with people who love you, who help you, who’d give a shit if you died tomorrow. The ones who fight for you everyday, who… open up doors to alternate dimensions to come and find you. You don’t have to love your father just because he squirted you out. In fact, I highly recommend not.”

“You’re my family.”

“Yeah, sure. If you want me to be.”

“I do. Both of you.”

Liv smiled, still draped around Gabriel’s neck, “Look, I don’t know you yet but if you want my advice, you need to make your own call.”

Gabriel’s face fell, what was she saying? Make his own call? Give the devil his due? No, that couldn’t possibly be it.

“If I didn’t make my own decision, I wouldn’t be here, with Gabriel,” she continued, “If I’d listened to everyone else, I’d still think he was a monster. And he isn’t. You need to decide, I know you’ll make the right choice.”

“You think my father can be good?” Jack inquired, his voice slightly hopeful.

“I don’t know, Jack. But if anyone can make him want to be better, it’s you.”

Cautiously, she pulled herself away from Gabriel and stood in before the very confused boy in front of them. She knew Gabriel wouldn’t be pleased with what she’d said, but it was the truth. She had faith in this kid, clearly the Winchesters influence had made a significant impact.

“Cas and Sam and Dean, they love you Jack, trust me,” she went on, “I’ve seen it. I don’t know if Lucifer does, or even if he can, but you need to just listen to him. For your own sake. You don’t want to be stuck wondering for the rest of your life. We’re all here to help you.”

With a nod and a smile, Jack vanished again. Gabriel sighed, he’d gone to find his father no doubt, which was the opposite of what he was intending to make happen.

“I don’t wanna hear it,” she snapped, already knowing what he was thinking, “You know I’m right.”

Just because she was right didn’t make it… right. If the kid’s father was anyone but Lucifer this would have been a good thing, but the consequences of those two joining forces would be catastrophic. He stayed silent, not willing to argue with her just yet, if Jack started to favor Lucifer, however, he’d be forced to show her the error in her ways. She didn’t move, not even to look at him. Clearly she was thinking about something and it couldn’t possibly be good.

“Am I… did I get old?” she finally blurted out, smoothing her hands over her windswept, messy hair, Lucifer’s insults still ringing in her ears

“Uh… is this a trick question? Gabriel replied cautiously, this really could go either way and the wrong way would probably end very badly.

“No. I look older, right?”

“Yeah… that’s kinda what happens.”

“Figured.”

“What is happening right now? Why are you asking me this? Of course you look older, it’s been nine freakin’ years.”

“I look horrible.”

As he reached out to grab her arm his face twisted, confounded by this sudden judgement of herself. He spun her around to face him, looking her up and down once before smirking at her.

“No you don’t,” he assured, running his thumb along her cheek.

“I’m nowhere near your standards anymore,” she condescended, rolling her eyes.

“My standards? Didn’t know I had any. Please, enlighten me.”

“Like, ten years my junior for one.”

“Where’d you get these idiotic assumptions from?”

“They’re not idiotic!”

“They are. Answer me.”

“Your brother…”

“Who is the last person you should be listening to about anything, so you’re losing credibility here. What did he say?”

“He just… made a few good points about me not quite… being up to par…”

He couldn’t listen to this. He didn’t even want to entertain it. A few hours with that vile poison and she was doubting every facet of herself. She looked different, it was the first thing he’d noticed, his heart aching that he wasn’t there to see the changes as they came. He’d tried to silently show her that he knew, and he didn’t care. He liked them, they were her. She wasn’t the same person anymore and neither was he, it was ridiculous to even have to assure her of this.

Slowly, he leaned in and kissed her, his hand cupping her cheek as his thumb brushed over the crow’s feet by her eyes when her eyes snapped shut. Heat began to pool in her belly as his tongue slid between her lips, she almost forgot they were in the middle of the woods. When his free hand went to the button of her jeans, snapping it open, she took too long on deciding whether to not to stop him. His fingers grazed over that familiar spot he knew so well and her resolve was lost. She needed something good, so did he.

“Gabe…” she whined, breaking their kiss.

“Is that protest or pleading?” he appealed, slowing to an agonizing, teasing pace.

All she could do was groan, grabbing his forearm and pressing down, urging him to continue. She felt his breathy laugh huff out against her mouth, and when she went to devour his mouth again, he pulled his face away.

“Tell me what he said,” Gabriel demanded, his eyes dark.

“All of your other… other women, were young and… beautiful… I’m not either of those things,” she panted, “My hair’s turning gray… and my face… is wrinkling… and scars… so many new ones…”

His anger grew by the second. Quickly, he spun her around by her hips, leaving her torturously abandoned. She whined at the loss of his ministrations, but quickly yelped as she pulled her tightly back towards him, pressing his arousal into her.

“Does it feel like I give a damn?” he growled, continuing to press further into her, “or do I need to convince you some more?”

“I don’t… I don’t know…” she mumbled, her brain short circuiting.

Shoving her jeans down just enough to give himself more range of motion, he set back to work. It didn’t take long to work her back into a frenzy, clearly their time apart had taken a toll. He’d never tire of how ardently she responded to him, as if he was the only being on Earth that could do these things to her. According to her he was, actually. She threw her head back over his shoulder, her quiet moans and whimpers falling directly into his ear now, sending little shockwaves down his body. When her mouth captured his in hard, sloppy kisses, his knees buckled. It was an awkward position, her neck craning at an uncomfortable angle, but the pleasure he brought her far outweighed the discomfort.

As her crescendo hit, he swallowed down her desperate sounds and held her around her waist as she contracted, her feet giving out as her bliss washed through her. Her chest was heaving against his arm, but it only took her seconds to compose herself, in fact she may have gained her head back faster than he did. No sooner than when he’d pulled his hand from her jeans did she spin and sink to her knees, working his own zipper open faster than he could process her motions. When her lips locked around him he groaned out in bliss.

“Fuck,” he whined, trying to find a power to stop her that wasn’t showing itself.

Typically, he would never let her do this, especially in this vulnerable a position. He never liked her on her knees for him, it didn’t feel right, although he certainly appreciated being on his for her. He’d always been a giver not a taker and nothing had changed, but this felt so damn good. Something in him was different, it was craving this attention from her, this showing of complete trust and adoration. Nobody else trusted him, but she did.

“Relax,” she cooed, “just let me make you feel good for once.”

He hadn’t noticed how tense he was, his thighs rock hard beneath her palms as he fought giving in to her.

“Isn’t that my line?” he laughed, finding their role reversal amusing.

“Hmmm.”

Her hum vibrated through him, only increasing the pleasure she was capable of giving him. She continued her steady pace, the fire building in his belly. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her, hers locked on his face as she watched his expressions, adjusting as she needed to when a certain sound or twitch escaped. His fingers were laced in her hair, softly scratching at her scalp in gratitude, never forceful, as he surrendered to her completely. Faster than even she thought, his sounds became more pitiful as he felt his release impending..

“Shit…” he hissed, and she felt his fingers tighten, tugging on her head slightly.

Mouth hanging open and eyes snapped shut, he was a wonder to behold. The satisfaction she got from giving him this swelled in her. She didn’t care that anyone could walk by, just that for these few minutes he felt a modicum of relief. She didn’t understand why he always stopped her when clearly he enjoyed it, and she took advantage of the chance to make him feel this way. He didn’t hide the effect she had on him, keening and writhing under her touch, if she was going to be vulnerable than so was he.

Groaning, he pulled her mouth from him and finished himself with a tight fist. She stayed below him, peppering the exposed skin of his stomach with light, feathering kisses as he panted, one hand still wound into her brown waves. When he opened his eyes, she was smiling up at him, looking flawless and happy in his shirt and jacket and he was certain he’d never laid eyes on something more beautiful in his entire life.

Slowly, she rose to her feet, fixing the buttons on her own pants as she did, before gathering his bottom lip between hers, the perfect transition from cloud nine back to this miserable pit of despair. She welcomed him back with reverence and a gentleness that only he could pull from her. To think that she had even considered not being up to his standards was asinine, she was the standard.

“You blow every criterion out of the water,” he complimented, kissing her again.

“Gray hair and all?” she snarked, wrapping her arms around his middle in a tight, lazy hug.

“Hells yeah. You’ll be my little silver vixen here soon.”

“At this rate people will start asking if you’re my kid by the time I’m forty.”

“I think you’re forgetting I have the supreme power of changing my own appearance. Don’t you worry sweetheart, we’ll be old and gray together.”

Trying to imagine what he’d look like if he aged thirty years, she laughed. He’d still be the best looking guy around, for that she was certain. He nodded in the direction of the camp, signaling it was time to go back. As he slung his arm around her shoulders, she wrapped hers around his waist, their feet marching in cadence as they headed back down the dirt path. The mission was complete, they’d found Jack, found Mary, and it had all seemed just a little too easy, but they were never ones to complain.

“Think it’s time to go home,” he mused, pressing a kiss to her head, “can’t believe we pulled this off.”

She smiled, turning her head up to look at him. It was time to go home, time for a new life, time for him. One more walk through the woods and then they’d be free.

TAGS: @idabbleincrazy @analisespn @nodistressdamsel @morganas-pendragons

[bellarkevalentines]

Bellarke Secret Valentine 2018

For @whyclarke, from your valentine.

Summary: Clarke gets an infection while on patrol with Bellamy. Her recovery will depends on Abby, a Trikru healer and sheer luck.

Tags: Canon AU, Hurt/Comfort, Worried!Bellamy

Word Count: 7399

A/N: Dear @whyclarke, I hope this meets with your approval. It doesn’t have as much Bellarke hurt/comfort as I wanted as this fic grew out of control. Unfortunately I’m terrible at keeping to a word count. I have no medical training so please forgive any mistakes on that end.

“Hurry up. I wanna get home before they start serving dinner.” Bellamy looked back up the trail at her.

“You must be hungry if you’re craving that slop.” Clarke shook her head, grimacing.

“That and you know how your mom gets when we’re late,” he smirked.

She sighed and blew a strand of hair out of her face. “Well if we hadn’t started rationing radios we’d be able to check in and let them know we’re not dead or dying. So they’ll just have to suffer in suspense until we get back.”

They ambled down what had once been an old deer path but was now considerably wider since it became part of the perimeter walk around Arkadia. This of course also meant there was less vegetation and undergrowth to absorb water during the spring rains, turning the trail into sludge and in some places, small ponds.

The pair skirted several of these water hazards, unwilling to test their depths as they checked the trap lines. Thanks to the weather they didn’t have much luck. Rabbits and squirrels were starvation food and obviously would be barely enough to feed the both of them let alone the entire camp. But it was better than nothing so Clarke and Bellamy dutifully collected them, reset the traps and left with what better qualified as snacks bumping on their backs.

At the beginning of Patrol they would trade stories and laugh at what they used to find normal. But as time passed they grew quiet, scanned the woods for movement and kept their guns at the ready. Encounters were unlikely but on occasion Azgeda liked to make incursions towards the border which kept everyone on their toes.

Today was no different apart from the light drizzle that had started, pattering down below the canopy and reducing visibility. The duo exchanged a look as an oncoming storm boomed somewhere beyond them, echoing off the distant hills. As they neared the river, digging their boots into the hill for traction, a curtain of rain advanced towards them.

Their standard issue clothing was another victim that had fallen to rationing in that it wasn’t waterproof. Unwilling to endure being soaked through on the walk back to camp they ducked under a large conifer for shelter.

Bellamy leaned up against the trunk and pushed his back into the wood for a moment, tilting his neck to the side to loosen the twinge in his shoulder. A bad fall a few weeks ago had left him sore and sporting a bruise that covered half his back. Clarke stood beside him, eyes on the opposite river bank. The bridge was miles away which made this a perfect place to cross away from prying eyes.

Ten minutes later with no sign of the rain letting up they didn’t have much choice but to continue. As they pushed off from the tree, Clarke stumbled into him and mumbled an apology as she tucked wet strands of hair out of her eyes. He cocked a brow but she brushed off his concern.

“Just a little tired. Come on. The sooner we get back, the sooner you can chow down on whatever brown goop they’ve serving in the Mess.”

Thunder cracked all around them now as they traveled into the storm.  Rain poured down and soaked them to their skin, seeping past layers meant to keep them warm. Two hours later both had started to shiver.

Bellamy had taken to carrying the squirrels in one hand instead of letting their tails stream water down his back and trickle into his boots. His hair dripped in his eyes and forced him to slick it back from his face. Clarke meanwhile had fallen behind. The sucking sludge of the trail had forced her off into the bushes for ease of travel. Every so often he’d have to wait for her to catch up which only gave him time to remember how hungry he was, his stomach an empty pit carving into his gut.

As she came to stand beside him he looked over. Her cheeks were flushed bright red despite the steady walking pace he’d set and she’d fallen further behind every time he turned back to check on her.

“We should take a break.”

Her brow knit together as she frowned, breathing heavily. “What happened to ‘we’re in a hurry’?”

He shrugged. “It’s not like dinner’s going anywhere.”

“I know but I’d rather get out of the rain and not just duck under a tree for a few minutes.” She leaned over and squeezed water out of her hair, hand shaking.

“You sure?”

“Yes I’m sure Bell I-”

She started coughing; long hacks turned into wheezes as she fought to catch her breath. He put a hand to her shoulder as she doubled over panting, eyes watering.

“We’re taking a break.”

She shuffled off his hand. “I’m fine. Air just, went down the wrong pipe,” she croaked.

Instead of listening he grabbed hold of her arm and pushed her towards a fallen tree. “Sit.”

He set aside her rabbits and gun to crouch down in front of her knees. Two fingers to her wrist failed to detect a pulse. She smirked as he searched for her radial artery, frowning in frustration.

“I guess now when they ask why we’re late I can blame you?”

Again he was silent and put a hand to her forehead. But there was no way of telling whether she had a fever thanks to the chill of the rain pouring down on them. So instead he cupped her cheek. She pulled away until fingers came up to envelop her shoulder and hold her steady.

“What are you-”

“Are you feeling alright?” He used his thumb to pull down her lid to reveal a bloodshot and glassy eye.

She huffed and dug the tip of her boot into the muck. “Yeah never better. Why?”

Her fingers wrapped around his wrist to stop the impromptu examination. That’s when he noticed the large red welt on her hand.

“When did you get this?”

“Get what?”

“This.” He held her hand in front of her face. The webbing between her finger and thumb inflamed with what looked like a tiny puncture wound.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged.

Without a word he grabbed both her gun and the squirrels, throwing them over his shoulder. “We have to get back to camp. Now.”

She sighed and looked up at him, blinking through the rain. “It might be nothing.”

“Or it could be why you had trouble breathing back there. Come on.” He stomped his feet, trying to work some warmth back into them.

She was about to stand when with no warning and little fanfare, she turned to lean over the log and emptied her stomach, spewing breakfast into the bushes. As she wiped her mouth and the world tilted back into place, she felt his hand on her shoulder. His voice was distant as her ears filled with a loud buzz.

It took several minutes for her to compose herself enough to continue and even then her vision swayed for a moment. A glut of dizziness and nausea washed over her as she slowly walked towards him until they were abreast. Under his supervision they continued at a slower pace in silence. Every step jarred her gut and he would occasionally check that she was still upright and moving. Tired and feeling gross, Clarke simply huddled into her collar as rain dripped from her hair down her neck to soak her clothes.

Why hadn’t she noticed the bite? Normally she catalogued any injury or illness, large or small and started treatment as soon as she could. Experience had taught her how unforgiving Earth was and yet she wouldn’t even have known if Bellamy hadn’t pointed it out. Maybe it was the fact that her hand felt numb. But was that from the bite or the cold? Without finding shelter and warming up she had no way of knowing so instead she just wiggled her fingers to little effect.

There was no measure of time as the sky was already dark with clouds and she had no inkling of how close they were to camp. There was only the endless trail in front of them so she concentrated on walking and not falling over. Every so often she would stop mid-stride and just breathe or at least try to. The wheeze didn’t reappear but her ears started ringing. As she tried to regain her equilibrium she held out her hands for balance. Thankfully sinking a few inches into the muck anchored her pretty well but it made gaining momentum again a colossal task. Every time it happened she took that much longer to recover as she leaned forward and swung her arms around to wrench herself free.

One time in particular she found herself in a massive puddle, stuck and sinking. After observing her struggle for a minute Bellamy stepped in and offered his hand. Grateful and tired she took it and he pulled. They stirred up mud and water sloshed over the top of her boots as they made no progress.

“Those might be a lost cause.”

Panting she tried to picture walking home in her socks, her boots left behind to stand on their own in the puddle. A giggle escaped her lips as a wheeze before she looked up at him, eyes distant and shiny before all the light went out of them. Her shoulders drooped and her head fell back as gravity pulled her to the ground. If not for his quick reflexes she would have landed in the puddle.

“Clarke?”

She was cradled in his arms, hands wrapped around her back, leaving him stuck, bent over straddling her limp body. She was still breathing but when he called her name again she didn’t respond. So instead he ducked down and slowly tilted her over his shoulder. His frozen fingers reached down for the laces on her boots and hooked a finger into a loop. It was a slow process but he extracted her feet, carried her to a clear spot and gently laid her down, hands moving to cradle her head. He laid his hands on either side of her face, her skin overwarm under his palms.

“C’mon Clarke. I’m not the doctor here.”

But he was alone with his thoughts as rain dripped down her flushed face. She didn’t respond when he shook her shoulders or pinched her arm. He watched and waited, eyes flicking from her face to her chest and back. When she started to wheeze again he knew he couldn’t wait.

“Crap.”

It was then that he threw the food onto the trail, pulled her to her feet and onto his back. Without a second thought he started running towards camp. His legs were liquid fire by the time he reached the perimeter, throat raw and heart beating like a loud drum. He stumbled to a knee as he slipped on the wet grass with Clarke’s weight pushing him into the ground.

A guard approached, gun half-raised, eyes narrowed as he left his post and approached them, rain obscuring the figures splayed before him.

“Go get Abby!”

The man looked askance at him before he recognized Blake and stiffened his posture.  

“Tell her it’s Clarke!”

Bellamy tried to pull her back into his arms but his limbs wouldn’t cooperate. So instead he gave her what shelter he could from the rain. Soon enough Abby came bursting through the gate, trailed by a handful of Med Bay staff.

“What happened?” She bent down in front of her daughter, eyes making a quick assessment as her fingers sought a pulse. When she looked up to Bellamy she noticed the dazed look in his eyes, the slight tremor in his shoulders.

“I don’t know but she’s having trouble breathing. I think she was bit by something.” He held up her hand to make sure Abby saw the welt.

A nurse knelt down next to him to lift Clarke out of his arms. The man had a determined look on his face, bushy blonde brows frowning as he curled his hands under her torso. For a moment Bellamy’s fingers tightened around her arms before Abby laid a hand on him.

“We need to get her inside to make sure she’s all right.”

He nodded silently and watched as her limp form was carried through the gates. Abby offered a hand and helped pull him to his feet. The streets of Arkadia were empty thanks to the rain which was handy for Bellamy whose gait had started to weave slightly. Fortunately for everyone things had been quiet so Med Bay was close to empty. Abby hurried to get Clarke hooked up to a variety of machines while Bellamy rested against a wall.

One nurse drew a vial of blood while another brought Clarke’s vitals up. Abby asked for something called “Dexa” and prepped a shot. They moved quickly amongst each other in quiet tones, occasionally conferring in groups. All the while Clarke lay motionless among them.

Bellamy watched it all, ignorant of their actions but unwilling to leave. At least, not until he got the all clear from Abby. Shifting his weight he tried to find a more comfortable position, having slumped against a section of wall with a generous amount of riveting. As he settled back a hand on his shoulder jolted him from his position and he practically fell over. A nervous-looking guard with a crooked collar was trying to relieve him of his gun per the rules set out when Abby had officially opened the Med Bay. Checking the safety he handed it over, grateful to be rid of the extra weight but the motion pulled at his back. He tried to ignore the ache as a nurse covered Clarke in a blanket despite the sweat on her brow.

Twenty minutes passed in relative silence during which time he slowly folded in on himself, relying on the wall to hold him up. The steady beeping of the machines flattened out into a thin hum at the back of his brain and pulled his chin down to his chest.

After making some final adjustments to the drip she put Clarke on, Abby looked up to see Bellamy, arms folded, eyes closed, practically slumped against the wall, his brow pinched. She couldn’t help the quiet smile that came to her lips. A gentle shake soon roused him and this close she could see the bloodshot eyes and feel a tremor through his wet clothes.

“You should rest.”

“Is she all right?” He wiped at his eyes, fighting the urge to yawn even as his jaw threatened to bend unnaturally.

“She’s resting.”

He frowned and stood up from the wall, one whole shoulder all pins and needles. “That’s not an answer.”

“There’s nothing more we can do for her now,” Abby sighed. “Until we know what exactly bit her we can’t start proper treatment. Ideally we’d need more symptoms to surface to narrow down the possible suspects. So why don’t you go change, get some rest and come back in the morning.”

Instead Bellamy just looked over her shoulder to Clarke, unable to discern what the machines were saying apart from that she was still alive. When he made no move to leave Abby put on her best mom face.

“Do I need to sedate you?”

Bellamy paused. “No.”

“Then leave before I decide you do. I promise you she’s not going anywhere.”

He reluctantly left after she practically had to push him out the door. Exhausted, starving and cold he dragged himself over to the Mess for something hot. What he got was a long line up and a loud group from Agriculture in front of him. By the time he got to the front he was able to finagle a cup of soup from cook despite his lack of ration card. He burnt his tongue and throat as he sipped the bland concoction, leaning against the entrance.

He dumped out the rest of the “soup” on the ground and set the cup on the nearest tray. Ducking into the rain he double-timed it back to the cupboard that served as a bedroom and quickly shucked off his clothes into a soggy pile in the corner, muffling his pained groan as he pulled off his shirt and jacket. He made a face at the heap of wet clothes before hanging them up. The value of water hadn’t changed much on the ground and he didn’t have enough rations to justify cleaning clothes that were only muddy.  

Wearing the only other clothes he owned he walked back into Med Bay.

Abby looked up from the chart she was reading. “So you do want to be sedated.”

Instead of responding he knelt down and started untying his boots.

“It’s not a busy night. You have other beds free and if you need mine I’ll use a chair.” He dumped his boots by the bed next to Clarke’s and sat down.

She crossed her arms and raised a brow. “Your bed?”

He shrugged. “I could use a night’s sleep. But I’m not leaving her.”

He sat back in the bed and wrapped himself in the same regulation blanket Clarke was currently swathed in, coarse and scratchy against his bare skin. He tucked the pillow under his head and tried to sleep. Best he could guess it was near sunset which meant Abby would be off shift in a few hours. By then he would hopefully be awake enough to keep watch. He yawned, shivering as he tried to keep his weight off the bad shoulder.

As his eyes slipped closed he found himself back in the forest. This time he was following Clarke. It was raining but he barely noticed. He held out his hand and the droplets fell right through his fingers which explained why he wasn’t cold. The sky above was pitch black without moon or cloud or stars. And yet the trees, the trail, Clarke, all were visible.

“Clarke!” He jogged towards her but wasn’t able to close the distance. She was always ahead of him, no matter if he ran or not. So he stopped and so did she. He walked a step, she walked a step. Every action was mirrored; a jump to the left, crouched, lying down on the ground. A twig chucked at her arm had no effect; neither did a pebble. For a long while he sat against a tree, trying to figure out how he could approach, her face hidden behind her hair.

After digging a rut into the trail with his boot heel he stood, faced away from her and walked. A glance over his shoulder revealed she was following, her head turned to look behind her. A side step off the trail had him keeping an eye out behind him for obstacles. And it wasn’t until he saw a large tree behind Clarke that he started backing up. Soon enough she backed into it and he bumped into her. His hand reached behind him to grab her arm and hold onto her. He whipped around only to nearly lose his grip.

Her eyes, nose and mouth dripped with blood. Her gaze was unfocused, as if she was staring past him instead of at him.

“Clarke?”

He took hold of her shoulders and tried to sit her down. She had no reaction when prompted. Blood spilled onto her shirt in dark splotches. Then her hands started to shake and her head tilted back; tremors migrated up into her body, mouth wide, eyes unseeing. Something screamed behind him, so loud he flinched and let go of her.

Her knees gave way and she fell to the ground, limbs locked, fists clenched, choking. He knelt, grabbed a handful of jacket to pull her to her side. She coughed, followed by a shuddering wheezy inhale, repeating over and over. Blood pooled on the ground, a thread of spit lead up to her lip.

She blindly reached out to grab at his shirt, nails digging into his skin as she yanked him close. He could see her lips moving but heard nothing. As he bent closer he could hear a rasping whisper. Ichor bubbled in her mouth. She gave a stuttered gasp and then was still. Eyes wide open but empty.

“No!”

He grabbed hold of her shoulders. Her head lolled to the side, blonde hair spilling onto his hand. Then her body disintegrated into dust, blown about by a cold breeze that turned into him. Blinded and choking he tried to escape the cloud only to collapse on the forest floor.

His eyes snapped open and he found himself staring up at the corrugated ceiling of Med Bay. Heart pounding he wiped the drool from his mouth and turned to the bed next to him. Clarke was there, still asleep and not dust.

He pulled an arm over his eyes and huffed out a long-held breath. He let time quiet his heart, thumping in his ears, against his chest. As he sat up, the ache in his back twinged and forced him to bite back several colourful swears. Breathing through his teeth he leaned down to struggle with his boots.

Soon enough he walked over to her, uncertain of her condition. Sweat beaded her brow, her face still flushed but her breathing even. A glance at her hand revealed the bite wound had crusted over but now had several subdermal black tendrils spreading out from it up towards her wrist. His eyes widened as he pushed up her sleeve, following the veins up her arm. They disappeared past her elbow.

He approached the closest nurse who looked haggard with stray wisps of hair having escaped her tightly pinched hair. She couldn’t provide any more information than what was on the monitors. Clarke’s temperature was slightly elevated but her blood pressure was steady.

“Is Abby still on shift?”

“Should be. Maybe try the Mess?”

With a glance over his shoulder to ensure the monitors were still in the green he stumbled outside where he had to shade his eyes. Clearly he’d slept longer than expected as a cloudless sky let the sun beat down on him and his tired visage. A trip to the Mess told him he’d missed breakfast and lunch. There was no sign of Abby but he was able to snag a bun from an abandoned tray. He had to stuff it in his pocket and book it when one of the guards turned his way though. The paltry meal was stale but hunger receded as he shuffled over to Housing and found she wasn’t home. Border Security claimed she hadn’t left Arkadia and no one had seen her since yesterday. He scratched at the five o’clock shadow on his chin and did the only other thing he could and swung back to Med Bay and Clarke.

He could only hope Abby was back when he walked inside and stopped dead. Clarke’s bed had a quarantine tent set up around it. Plastic sheeting sealed from floor to ceiling with a double barrier entry and two guards set on either side. There was no sign of Abby but he could make out bright orange figures inside the barrier. It was like staring through a greasy window.

He turned to the closest guard. “What happened?”

“They put up a tent.”

Bellamy rubbed a hand over his face. “I can see that. Do you know where Dr. Griffin is?”

The man shrugged. “I just started shift and I haven’t seen her so…no.”

Bellamy grit his teeth at the indifference. One question to a short nurse with crow’s feet restocking gauze gave him his answer. He found her staring at a pile of papers in what had once been a supply closet, yawning. She looked up at the noise, saw him and held up her hands in placation at the man who was equal bits nervous and angry with a five o’clock shadow and drooping shoulders.

“I know and it’s just a precaution.”

“Why?”

“She developed more symptoms overnight, some of which prompted me to declare a quarantine zone for her protection and ours.”

He had a sinking feeling he knew what she meant. “What kind of symptoms?”

“Something from the bite got into her circulatory system. She started to have trouble breathing this morning and when I gave her another shot of Dexa she started coughing up blood. So far I have two nurses in isolation due to exposure and I’ve sent for a Trikru healer. The blood and tissue samples are due back from the lab in a few hours so hopefully I’ll have a better idea of what I’m dealing with but until then all we can do is wait.”

He nodded absently, his eyes on the ground, unfocused.

“Is she awake?”

Abby shook her head. “She’s been out since you brought her in and it’s probably better if she stays that way.”

Somehow he found his way back to the “tent”. Two nurses transitioned through the plastic barriers, each decontaminating the other. They brought a sour chemical odour with them as they stepped out of the tent. Both slipped out of their bright orange suits and started consulting over the monitors.

Bellamy stood next to the plastic sheeting, unable to make out her blurry form. If he stayed he wouldn’t be of any use but all the same he wanted to. Unfortunately he had training in about forty minutes so he hovered for as long as he could, eyes flicking between the tent and the screens before the guards kicked him out for loitering.

The rest of the afternoon was spent in something of a daze as he went through the motions but wasn’t exactly present. This earned him a bruised cheek when he failed to dodge a punch. It was sore enough that he had to chew on the other side of his mouth at dinner before hurrying back to Med Bay.

The entrance was blocked however, by a large Grounder contingent, mostly warriors standing outside, as if they expected Arkadia to turn on them. Many had no love for Skaikru so he was forced to push his way through. More were inside, still armed, trading glares with the guards stationed at Clarke’s bedside. Indra stood next to Abby, speaking in low tones. He was only able to catch the tail end of their conversation.

“…anything but we will try. This is Varn.”

An old woman with a giant collar of woven leather and shells appeared from between two tall men and shuffled forward. Her gait was uneven and her shoulders stooped. She stopped next to the quarantine tent.

“You can take this down?” Indra looked at Abby.

“It’s meant to protect everyone in case she’s contagious. Standard procedure has anyone going inside suited up. I don’t suppose that’s going to work here though.” She looked down at Varn who was trying to peer through the plastic.

Indra raised a brow at the Skaikru jargon. “To help Clarke she must be able to see Clarke. Remove this,” she frowned at the plastic, “so she might help you.”

“We’re trying to keep anyone else from getting sick.”

“We will be fine. Send your people out if you worry for them.”

Torn between following protocol and taking what help she could find, Abby ushered the nurses out the front door but made no move to follow. Neither did Bellamy. Worst case scenario they would get sick and have to disinfect everything. She only hoped it wouldn’t come to that. She moved to pull down the tent and found the tape stronger than she imagined.

Bellamy silently walked up and started on the opposite side. They struggled for several minutes alone while the Grounders waited silently. As he gathered the sheeting in his arms he looked down to the bed. Her cheeks were still red, her lips chapped, her clothes caked in mud. One look at her arm revealed just how far the infection had progressed. Her shirt had been cut away for easier access and all the veins in her arm were black, tendrils spreading up to her shoulder. The other arm by comparison was clear.

Varn shuffled her way up behind Abby, shells clacking as came to stand beside the bed. She softly picked up Clarke’s arm, holding the dead weight in her wrinkled hands. Her fingers follow the veins; long nails traced a path up the skin before she turned the hand over the hand and brushed her thumb on the inflamed welt. She poked her finger inside Clarke’s ear, pried open her mouth and pulled down her lids to peer at her eyes. All of this was accompanied by unintelligible muttering. The only other sounds were Clark’s vitals on-screen and the creak of leather as Grounders shifted their feet.

“Jogots-wey,” Varn croaked out and patted Clarke’s arm as she laid it back down. A smile creased her face.

“I, I don’t – what is that?” Abby turned to Indra.

“It is a fly that drinks blood. Those bitten usually fall ill, see things, lose their memory. Many die.”

“Is there a cure?”

Bellamy’s eyes flicked down to Clarke.

“No. But she may yet live. Varn has seen others through this. She and her guards will stay.”

Indra turned to leave, taking all but two Grounders and Varn was looking around at all the machines and wrinkling her face in distaste.

“Jackson? Could you take Varn and see what rooms we have available?”

Abby turned back to Clarke and pinched the blanket between her fingers to pull it up over the infection before hearing a small strong voice behind her.

“I will stay here.”

Abby turned to see Varn smile up at her, milky blue eyes and all.  Her guards stood to the side, more akin to statues although their eyes scanned the room from side to side and floor to ceiling.

“Oh. I’m sorry. We don’t have bedrooms here. Jackson can take you to Housing where you can rest and show you the Mess if you’re hungry.”

“I will stay here.” She shuffled over to the bed Bellamy had been using and clambered onto it, her short legs wiggling around as she struggled to right herself. Settled, she spread out her clothes and turned to watch Clarke.

Abby waved Jackson off. “Make sure that you note bed four is occupied.”

Bellamy dragged a chair over and sat down, one eye on Clarke, one eye on Varn. It wasn’t long before the noise of the machines and the murmurings of nurses pulling him into that half sleep before rest.  

An alarm shrieked in his ear and he bolted off the chair in surprise, hand going to where his gun usually was. Heart pounding he relaxed when he realized where he was. Next to him Clarke’s eyes were wide open as she struggled to breathe, the monitors behind her blaring an alarming red. Three nurses crowd past him to check vitals and loom over her.

Abby pushed what he presumed was another shot of Dexa and nervously stroked her daughter’s hair as the minutes passed and her vitals descended back into safe levels.  

Clarke was panting. Her chest hurt and her hand was numb. She recognized Med Bay but couldn’t remember most of the last day. There was a hazy recollection of walking but it could easily have been a dream. When she tried to sit up her arm wouldn’t cooperate, acting more as dead weight than anything. That’s when she looked down to see her arm was covered in black veins traveling up from her wrist.

“What…?”

Her mom put a steadying hand on her shoulder. “You’ve got an infection from an insect bite. Bellamy brought you in last night.”

She looked over to see him standing next to her bed, wearing stubble and a frown.

“You look terrible.”

He gave her a wry smile. “I’m not the only one.” He fidgeted with the cuff of his jacket while she got a proper checkup. “I’ve got Patrol soon but I’ll come back before night shift starts, see if I can sneak you a sweet roll.” He looked sidelong at Abby who shook her head at the mention of contraband.

“Well you tried.” Clarke waited until her mom turned away before she held up two fingers.

He ducked his head to keep from grinning. “I’m glad you’re awake.” He gave one last glance to Varn who hadn’t wavered in her attention on Wanheda.

Clarke watched him walk off before she looked down to her arm and tried to wiggle her fingers. Abby filled her in on the events occurring after she’d passed out but truly she was only half-listening. Her brain felt fuzzy which she assumed was a side-effect of the drug she was on but her arm also itched like a slow-boiling pot. The feeling was insistent and growing louder by the minute. At one point she sat on her hand to keep from tearing into her skin. She pressed her head back into her pillow, looking for a sensation that would overwhelm the sting. This held for several minutes until she slowly reached over and pressed her nails into her arm in search of relief. But the half-moon marks did little if anything so she slowly scratched four parallel lines up her skin and sighed.

“Don’t scratch Clarke.” Abby looked up from her screen.

“Can you give me something besides the drip then?” She croaked out, lips cracked, tongue dry.

“Normally I would but we don’t know how you’ll react with the infection. I should be getting test results back soon. Can you hold on until then?”

“Sure.” She rolled over and closed her eyes, knowing that sleep was unlikely. All the noises around her blurred into a cacophony: voices, footsteps, electronics.

“Here.” Someone poked her shoulder she and turned over to see a Grounder woman staring back at her, holding a twig in her hand. “Chew.”

“You must be Varn.”

“Yes. Chew.” She poked Clarke with the twig before trying to put it in her good hand.

Brow raised, she gently took the gift.

“For your itch.”

“Oh.” Clarke watched as the woman settled back onto her bed, placed her hands on her stomach and closed her eyes. A look down at the twig in hand wasn’t very reassuring. She took a tentative bite and fought the urge to make a face at the taste, which she imagined was something like dirt but drier. It at least gave her something to focus on and she found the more she chewed, the less she felt like her arm was going to melt off.

“Something in the bark maybe?” She murmured to herself.

Varn cleared her throat to catch Abby’s attention before nodding at Clarke. “You should bleed her.”

Clarke frowned, twig in mouth. “Whar?”

The woman pulled a long thin knife off her belt and rolled the hilt in her fingers, the blade reflecting off the overhead lights. Abby stepped between the beds, mouth a thin line.

“What exactly are you proposing?”

“Bleed her weak and the bite goes weak.”

Abby looked askance at the knife and bit her tongue. The practice of bloodletting had gone out of style hundreds of years ago and was now considered a pseudoscience.

“I thought Indra said there was no cure.”

Varn crossed her arms as shells clacked against her collar and sat up as tall as she could. “I have saved five this way.”

“And how many did you bleed?”

“Many.”

Abby fought to keep from making a face at the mortality rate. “We’re hoping to have better results with our tests.”

Varn shrugged. “If you are a healer you must heal.”

“Yes, well. That’s the plan. I think we’ll pass on the knife.”

“Wanheda?” Varn leaned back to look at Clarke who at least had the sense to look apologetic.

“I’m sorry but I agree with my mom.”

Varn quirked a brow. “You want to live? You must bleed.”

Clarke took the blunt assessment in stride. Soon after she fell back asleep and her dreams were plagued with shadows that crawled across her eyes and burrowed into her brain. As the hours ticked by her temperature slowly rose. When her core crested 100, Abby laid a cool compress on her forehead.

The lab results for the blood and tissue samples had been unsatisfactory. They confirmed Clarke had a viral infection introduced into her bloodstream but since the vector wasn’t in their database they had no pathology to draw upon. She could only run through their remaining store of antiviral medication and test the samples against each one. Indra’s words came back to her as she watched her daughter sleep with an elevated heartbeat.

When she woke sometime after dinner the black veins had reached her throat. She was dizzy lying down and coughed until she was hoarse, fighting for breath and then rolled over, pushed the mass of bodies away from her and vomited straight onto the floor. She used a sleeve to wipe her mouth and made a face at the sour bile on her tongue as a pair of nurses came to clean the mess up.

Another shot of Dexa left her already bruised arm sore but at least she still had feeling on that side. An uncomfortable theory had lodged itself in her brain so she marked how long it took for her blood pressure to go down. Each shot stretched out her recovery time longer and longer. This instance was nearly twenty seven minutes, an absolute eternity. Worse still her mom wouldn’t look her in the eye. But the crease in her brow grew with every test that came back. It was a look Clarke knew too well.

“M-om?”

Abby looked up and pasted a smile on her face. “It’s okay. I’ve got half a dozen more to run. We’ll find something.”

Forty minutes later Clarke had started feeling twinges in her chest. The pain was intermittent but sharp. Abby had given her an oral anti-inflammatory but she had thrown it up less than ten minutes later. While she stared up at the hazy fluorescents the nurses had changed out sweat-soaked sheets.

Abby watched as her only child descended into the infection, her body losing the fight in her half-conscious state. And as the last of the antivirals failed to have any effect on the infected blood, she approached Varn and sighed.

“If we’re doing this we’re following standard medical procedure.” Abby held out her hand for the knife. “You can have it back after I disinfect it.”

“You wish me to bleed Wanheda?”

Abby nodded, crow’s feet at her eyes. “I have no experience with bloodletting.”

As they prepped the knife and Clarke’s arm, Varn closed her eyes and began murmuring under her breath. The IV drip was removed and Jackson and Abby exchanged an apprehensive look as the woman took back her knife and held the cold metal against Clarke’s skin. She’d just made the incision when Bellamy walked in.

His eyes widened at the sight of Varn holding a knife in one hand and Clarke’s arm in the other, blood streaming from a long cut into a bowl. He dropped the sweet rolls he was carrying.

“What the hell are you doing!”

He lunged towards the bed before Varn’s guards stepped in to block his path. Each grabbed an arm and wrestled him to the floor, face meeting cold metal. He tried to twist, kicking what he could reach as they bent his arms behind him.  

“Stop! Bellamy stop it’s all right!”

Abby knelt and laid a hand on his shoulder. With a word from Varn he was released. He stood, glaring at the women before he was roughly pulled aside.

“I let her do this because she might be able to help Clarke.”

“So you’re okay with this?” He waved a hand at the bowl of Clarke’s blood, grimacing.

“No but it’s the fastest option we have. None of the antivirals worked and because we have no background on the virus or vector we don’t have an effective treatment plan. I don’t have time for more tests and she’s getting worse. Every Dexa shot takes longer to regulate her breathing and she can’t keep anything down. If I had the right equipment I’d put her in an induced coma and lower her body temperature. But I can only work with what I have and I’m willing to try anything at this point because if the infection reaches her heart there won’t be anything we can do.”

He blinked at the information. Before he’d left for Patrol she’d seemed fine. Snarky even. He made to walk over when Abby grabbed his arm.

“Promise me you won’t attack the only healer who might be able to treat her?”

“Fine.”

He pushed past her and over to where Clarke’s arm was being bandaged. He could see the black veins creeping up past her collarbone.

“Did it work?” He looked over at the old woman who was cleaning off her knife. The blood bowl had disappeared.

“The bite is always fast. She will not linger if she falls. We will know by morning.” She waddled out of the Med Bay, followed quickly by her guards, presumably to find the Mess.

He took the chair from this morning and sat, back to the wall next to her bandaged arm.

“Hey Clarke.”

She made no reply. Her breathing was wheezy and shallow, a rhythmic sound to accompany the low buzzing of the lights. Sweat beaded her forehead, cheeks bright red against a pale face as she shivered under the pile of blankets cocooning her in the bed.

He watched Abby watch Clarke and saw the shift change for the nurses. An hour passed and then two but she didn’t wake. Finally he took hold of her hand, his thumb rubbing circles into her skin.

“I can’t do this without you.” He held tight and simply waited.

As the night ticked by he felt his head grow heavy and nodded off sometime after midnight. When he woke it took a moment to remember where he was. His neck hurt, his mouth was dry and sleep had crusted over his eyes. When he turned to the bed it was empty. For a moment he froze. Ice shot down his back and he imagined the worst. He shot to his feet only to find her standing at the entrance, door wide open to outside.

She was still pale and covered in a sheen of sweat. Her bandaged hand laid heavy on the door. He walked up beside her and softly touched her shoulder.

“Hey.”

She didn’t acknowledge his presence or touch. Instead he had to turn her and squeeze a shoulder. But she simply stared through him. It was only after she blinked several times before recognition flared in her eyes.

“Bellamy. What are you doing here?”

She stepped closer and swayed, nearly falling until she latched onto his jacket with her good arm. Above them the sky had started to brighten, light blue and pale orange against a smear of clouds.

He reached out to cup her cheek, brushing his thumb over her skin. “Waiting for you to come back to me.”

[spencers-dria]

Someone To Stay

Original story by fairytales1896

Spencer x fem reader

7. Meet Me In The Woods

Y/N POV:

After dinner, the guys and girls split up into their separate rooms, taking turns in the showers. After you finished washing up, you put on some red, plaid pajama pants, a black tank top, and a pair of slippers that looked like bear paws. You made your way into the kitchen, where Rossi was cleaning up.

"You didn't happen to bring marshmallows, did you?" You ask, eyebrows raised.

"You read my mind, kid." Rossi gives you a wink as he hands you a bag, already full of everything you need.

While he finishes, cleaning you make your way outside. All you can hear is the sound of crickets and the wind in the trees. It's like music to your ears, so peaceful. You walk across the back patio that overlooks the lake, heading towards the fire pit. Sitting on one of the log benches, you start to pull out all the supplies you need. After gathering some kindling, you start a fire in the stone fire pit, giving it a poke here and there to help get it going. Within a few minutes, the fire has grown to a decent size, and you can feel it's warmth from your seat.

It's not long before the doors open and the rest of the group joins you, gathering around the fire. Everyone grabs a skewer and starts roasting their marshmallows. Derek gets a little over eager with the fire and keeps burning his, so JJ has to help him out. The chocolate Rossi brought to use isn't plain Hershey's, but instead it's Ghirardli chocolate with different fillings like caramel or raspberry! These have to be some of the best s'mores you've ever tasted.

Once everyone is snacking on their s'mores, you hear Spencer speak up. "Alright! Who wants to hear a ghost story?"

The group lets out some claps and cheers for him.

You watch as his face changes and he lets the group get quiet as he sets the mood for the story. He pulls a candle out from somewhere behind his seat and lights it in the fire. He holds it in front of his face as he begins to speak, but stops when he hears a snicker. He turns and gives you a serious look.

"I'm so sorry!" You and JJ both giggle, trying to pull yourselves together. "It's just really funny watching you take this so seriously."

He rolls his eyes at you, but you swear you almost see a smile. He tries to get back in character before starting.

"In Fredericksburg, Virginia...there is a hospital that would seem completely normal to most people. But to anyone who has been a patient on the 4th floor, they know better." He uses overly dramatic inflection in his voice, which only makes it more humorous.

"Really Spencer...the hospital where I work?"

He stops again, turning to you. "You know what ghosts really hate? People who interrupt. That's right! And they're coming for you next." He gives you a shove, and neither of you can keep a straight face anymore. You're both laughing, trying to catch your breath.

"Hey! I want to hear the rest of the story!" Penelope pipes up.

"Oh please he's just making it up as he goes along. It's not even that scary." You joke, playfully.

"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that, but I think we all know who did hear it..." he says in his spookiest voice. "Anyways! Like I said, the 4th floor is haunted. Patients who stay in rooms 26  and 27 have reported seeing a young boy and young girl. They say the girl always asks them if they want to play with her ball. Other patients have said they can hear a ball bouncing in the hallway in the latest hours of the night."

You shift, a bit uneasy in your seat. This was starting to sound familiar. It reminded you of stories you had heard from coworkers...but how would he know about this? You normally aren't spooked easily, but as Spencer continues, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

He continues the story. "They say the only people they really go after are the staff. They wait until their guard is down, the sneak up behind them, and..."

"GOTCHA!" You jump up from your seat as someone grabs you from behind.

You look down to see Derek Morgan, bent over with laughter, tears in his eyes. Spencer is laughing just as hard, if not harder. The rest of the team joins in, and after your nerves settle, so do you.

"You planned this didn't you?!" You yell at the two of them, trying to stifle a laugh and be serious.

The pair of them still laughing too hard to even  speak. You have your answer.

"Well that's enough fun for me. I'm headed to bed, anyone else?" Rossi gets up and everyone else joins him, heading inside.

When you step inside, you grab your green, plaid, wool blanket off the couch and carry it back out to the patio. Everyone is already getting ready for bed, so no one notices. You spread it out on the deck and turn off the porch light. You finally lay down on your back, looking straight up at the night sky. You could see a few stars from where you live, but out here there are more than you could ever count. It looks like pixie dust, spread across a deep abyss of black. You take a deep breath in, smelling the forest. For you, it doesn't get any better than this.

You soon hear the patio door open and close, followed by footsteps. You see Spencer standing over you, looking down at you with curiosity. He's changed into purple PJ pants and a Star Wars shirt.

"Whatcha doin?"

"Taking it all in." You smile up at him.

"Mind if I join?"

You scoot over, making extra room as you pat the spot next to you on the blanket.

You let out a long sigh, feeling completely content and relaxed. "I don't know what it is, about space, the stars, the galaxy...but I have always been so mesmerized by all of it. Part of me just appreciates how beautiful it is and part of me appreciates how it is all so much bigger than me. It's beyond what I can ever wrap my head around. There's nothing I wouldn't do to one day take a trip up there."

"Do you know the story of Perseus?" Spencer asks before explaining. He's learned not to underestimate your random knowledge as well.

"Believe it or not, I do actually."

Spencer smiles to himself. "I'm not surprised. Anyways, so there is Cephus at the top, Cassiopeia below him to the right, then Andromeda, and finally Perseus at the bottom left."

Your face twist in confusion. You don't see any of it, but you're too embarrassed to admit this, so you nod as if you see them. You sometimes forget what Spencer does for his job. He scoots closer to you to share your line of vision. He then looks at you and smiles before grabbing your hand and directing your pointer finger along the path of each constellation.

"It's beautiful isn't it?" You ask him.

"What is?"

"All of it. The stars, the trees, the sounds, the smells...it's perfect." You close your eyes feeling completely at peace in this moment.

You don't see Spencer roll his head to look at you.

"Yeah, really beautiful." He responds.

You feel your body relaxing and slipping away from the moment as you fall closer towards sleep. The next thing you know you feel arms slipping underneath you and lifting you from the ground. Mostly asleep, you absent-mindedly wrap your arms around the figure carrying you. You feel your body being carried up and then tucked underneath you bed comforter. Your eyes flit open for only a moment. Through the thick darkness you barely make out Spencer's outline climbing back down the ladder and quietly slipping out of the room. This is the last thing you see before you are awoken by the scent of smokey bacon.

You open your eyes and look around the room to see all three other ladies are still fast asleep. Sunlight is dripping into the room from between the curtains. You carefully make your way down from your top bunk and tip toe out of the room, trying to avoid any squeaky wooden floorboards.

When you finally reach the kitchen, you are surprised to see Hotch cooking breakfast. He's smiling and flipping pancakes at the stove. You haven't known  him very long, but this is still not something you would have expected from him.

"Goodmorning" you yawn, rubbing your eyes and adjusting to the sunlight flooding in from the large kitchen windows.

"Morning!" he beamed. "Care for some pancakes?"

"Pancakes sound wonderful, thanks! Need any help?"

"You can set the table if you don't mind."

"Not at all! Happy to help," You give him a smile as you start to pull place settings out from the cabinets.

"So, pancakes from scratch...where did you learn that?"

He lets out a small chuckle. "Rossi's not the only one who can cook ya know. Truthfull though, I learned a lot from my wife Haley. She was a great mom, and a wonderful cook." He smiles as he seems to get caught up in a memory, but you can here the sadness lacing his tone.

You can't help but inquire. "Was?"

He looks down at the bacon he is now grilling, avoiding eye contact as he continues.

"She was my ex wife for only a little while before she was killed. It was a serial killer that the team should have...that I should have caught." He has stopped cooking and is now gripping the counter infant of him, as though he was trying to keep himself from falling over.

You may not know him well, but your job had made you fairly comfortable with talking to people dealing with situations such as this, so you decide to approach him. You place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, that you and your son have had to go through that. No one should ever be put through that much trauma. But I can tell its made you really strong. And your son, he's lucky to have a dad who cares so much about him and keeps him safe."

Hotch takes a deep breath before continuing his cooking as he flips a few pieces of bacon and pours another pancake. He then turns to you and gives a warm genuine smile.

"Thank you, Y/N. I really appreciate it, truly. We have all been through a lot. And I'm not the only one who's lost someone because of this job..."

He trails off when you expected him to continue. There was something about the way he said that last part that made you believe he wanted to say more. Could he be talking about Spencer? Who did he lose? What happened to them? When did it happen?

Questions start to flood your mind but are quickly pushed to the back as the rest of the team starts to make their way into the kitchen for breakfast.

Everyone is talking about their plans for the day. So you turn to Spencer.

"I have something fun planned, if you're willing to trust me."

He raises his eyebrows, intrigued.

"Well I trusted you yesterday and I turned out okay" he laughs.

"Well it's definitely more laid back, even relaxing. If you want you can even bring a book."

He puts his elbows on the table and leans forward on his hands. You've clearly peaked his interest.

"Ok you've won me over. What is it?"

"A surprise." You smile as you grab both of your empty plates and bring them to the sink to wash them off.

"Well can you at least tell me what I need to wear for this?"

You take a minute to think.

"Definitely sun screen and probably something can get a little bit wet or dirty and also some sturdy shoes."

You both make your way to your rooms to get ready. You find the other three ladies already getting dressed and packed for their planned activities.

Alex is getting ready to go on a hike with Rossi and Hotch. JJ and Morgan are taking some rental jet skis out on the lake. Penny will be relaxing on her float again.

You put on a grey tank with an open, oversized navy flannel, some grey khaki shorts, and chacos . You grab your north face backpack and head to the kitchen to sort through the snacks. The backpack gets filled with granola bars, fresh fruit, cashews, and water bottles.

As you are finishing up, Spencer makes his way out of his room. He's in a half zip grey long sleeve, khaki shorts and tennis shoes. It doesn't look ah all like something he'd usually wear.

"Nice outfit" you smile at him.

"Oh uhh thanks, I borrowed the shirt from Hotch and the shorts aren't something I usually wear, but I brought them on the trip just in case." He seems to be blushing a bit. You feel bad, thinking you've must have embarrassed him.

"No really though, the outdoors look, it works for you." You elbow him as you giggle. The blush on his face turns a dark shade of red. Maybe he's really not used to getting told he looks good. This seems a bit crazy to you. He's ridiculously attractive. So much so that you brushed off any possibility of anything happening the night you met him. Spencer was just a friend, and that's exactly what you needed.

You throw on your back pack and lead the two of you out the glass doors and down the patio steps. You make your way further away from the cabin until the only thing left surrounding the two of you are trees.

The two of you walk for a couple minutes in a comfortable silence. You take in the sound of leaves crunching under your feet, wind in the trees, birds chirping. You look up to see sunlight streaming through the leaves of the trees above you. The path is covered by a canopy of green and gold. It's almost magical. You finally look over to see Spencer with a big smile on his face. He's looking around in awe. You have a feeling he doesn't do this sort of thing often.

"Wow" he breathes out. "It's so beautiful and calm. It's almost a bit..."

"Magical?" You interject. He looks down at you in surprise to see you smiling back up at him. He just smiles and nods.

You finally make your way to dock at the edge of the lake. You toss your back back into a red canoe tied up on the dock.

"Yeah is that okay?"

"Yeah that's ok. I've never actually been in a canoe before, I'm not sure how much help I'll be rowing."

"That's ok, Spencer. We're just here to relax and have fun" you reassure him.

You motion for him to step in first. You untie the boat from the dock push it off into the water as you jump in at the other end. You instruct him to turn around and face the front and hand him one paddle. You call out instructions to help him with pace and directions. After a couple minutes, he starts to get the hang of it. I mean, he has a PhD in engineering, you're not surprised.

Eventually, the boat is fairly far from shore and you both put down your paddles as he turns to face you. You reach into your backpack and pull out blankets to lay across the seats. Then you pull out the snacks and the water.

"A picnic on the lake, huh?" He gives a slight chuckle.

"Yeah" you shrug. "A bit cheesy, I know."

"It's perfect." He glances up at you with a genuine toothy grin on his face. He looks really happy. When you see this you can't help the ever growing smile on your face.

"What gave you this idea?" he asks as he starts munching on some cashews and grapes.

"Well, I love hiking, I love the water, and you already know I love food. So why not combine all three? Plus, there's just something really therapeutic about being in a boat out on the water, rowing, the only sound is your paddle in the water."

"Well I hope you don't mind, I brought something. I didn't know what we'd be doing, but I thought it might come in handy. Um it's not mine and Derek had to show me how to set it up. It's probably stupid anyways."

"I wanna see!" You give him a light shove on the shoulder.

He reaches into the backpack he brought and pulls out a Bluetooth speaker. Next he pulls out his phone and you hear the beep as it connects. You're incredibly intrigued at this point. The next thing you know, you hear the hear the gentle harmonica and acoustic guitar as "Ghost on the Shore" by Lord Huron fills the air around you.

You lean back on your hands, tears threaten to fill the brims of your eyes.

"Spencer... this is really, really sweet. How did you even find this song?"

"I noticed you looking at some of their music in that coffee shop with the music store. I listened to a little bit, and I really liked this song. I figured you would too."

"It's one of my favorites."

The two of you spend more time listening to music,

snacking, and just taking in the beauty of the nature around you. Way off in the distance you hear laughter and can see JJ and Derek racing around on their jet skis. You decide to head back and join the others, music still sounding from the speaker tucked into a side pocket of his backpack. "Meet Me in the Woods" echoes through the trees as you hike back towards the cabin together. Today had turned out even better than you ever could have planned.