#she should tell someone to drop dead again. or tell a cop to shove his badge up his ass. it'll be fun!

[bisupergirl]

adventure comics v1 #421, 424 || superman v1 #308-309 || the superman family #186, 222 || the brave and the bold v1 #160 || supergirl v2 #12

some people wrongfully assume that kara didn't get her attitude until her new 52 series but true supergirl understanders know she's always been two seconds away from beating someone's ass should they annoy or displease her in any way.

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

Like Real People Do

Mayans MC Masterlist

Part five of A Gentle Kind of Love

Any blank spaces are not meant to be there, I will fix them as soon as they show up so please just check again a little later if that happens to you.

Contains: Angst, blood, violence, hurt/comfort, fake dating, Angel being a little shit, nightmares, migraines, Manny being sweet. I stole some of this from Brooklyn Nine Nine.

6.3K words

Comment if you want to be tagged/removed or follow #a gentle kind of love.

Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips. We should just kiss like real people do.

They could hear voices now and they knew with a few more steps, they would be on top of them. Angel's breath stopped as he caught the sight of you and Manny on your knees, the man behind Manny cracking the butt of his gun into Manny's back.  

"Any last words shithead?"

Angel looked to his side as the other men came closer, their plan forming silently as Manny turned to you "I just want you to know, that I l......"

BANG

You dropped at the sound of the shot and felt wetness spray on your face as your brain kicked into action, shoving the man in front of you to the ground and climbing on top of him to slam the back of his head into the hard concrete.

You heard more shots but had no idea what was going on, your instinct told you were ok but as the world narrowed, your thought left the now unconscious man and turned to Manny.

You could hear the others, Bishop yelling for someone to bring the van as you looked around. The man that was standing over Manny was dead, a bullet between his eyes and you jumped as Manny appeared in front of you and looked you over.

"Is this your blood?"

You reached and wiped your face, "no, it's his. Are you alright?"

He nodded, "I'm fine, are you?"

You took a deep breath, "I'm fine, that guy is still alive, we should grab him so the Club can ask him some questions."

Manny nodded, "done, let's get you home."

You opened your mouth to protest but Manny shook his head, "had you not stalled them we would be dead, the least I can do is take you home."

You shook your head, "let's see what Bishop says first, they might need you."

Manny sighed and yelled out, "Bis are you good for me to take y/n home?"

Bishop wandered over and waved to EZ and Angel to grab the leader, now awake and groaning, "yeah, you're still staying with her until we know this is done."

You didn't complain, it would be nice to have Manny around for a little longer, "what about the cops? This area might be quiet but someone has to have done something."

Bishop shook his head, "we're dealing with it, no one's going to bother us. Head home, I'll call Manny when we know more."

You smiled, "thank you for getting here in time."

Bishop huffed, "nah, don't thank me. It was your quick thinking that let Coco know you were in trouble in the first place." He put his hand on Manny's shoulder, "good work, brother. We called Marcus before we left, he'll be here soon. Are you alright to tell him what went down?"

Manny nodded, "if it's alright with y/n he can come to her place?"

You sighed, "that's fine with me. I'd like to get home so I can get this blood off me."

Manny gave you a small smile, "alright Tesoro, I'll take you home."

You got home to the cats meowing at you, and you took in a shaky breath, "are you sure you're ok?" Manny's hand was on your shoulder, the warmth of his palm coming through your shirt

You sighed, "yeah, I was just worried I'd never see them again. If I had died they would have thought I just up and left them."

Manny swallowed the rising tears, "hey, we're both alive because of you." The image of him lunging as you dropped your last finger came to mind, between the gunshots and your own fight, you didn't realise he was paying attention. You glanced down at Manny's hand on your shoulder, it was bruised and the skin was bleeding and open.

"I better clean your hands up, they look really nasty." Before leaving, you reached out and placed your hand on Lady Midnight's head as she pressed her forehead into your palm. You felt your throat get tight and, without thinking, spun and wrapped your arms around Manny, Manny squeezing you back as the fear faded.

You buried your face in his chest, barely able to hold back the tears, "I am so sorry, this is all my fault."

You felt him stiffen, "what the fuck are you talking about? And don't you dare say it's because you wanted to go out or you got us into his mess in the first place, without you we would both be dead and the Club wouldn't have any answer. My guess is that they've got one of Galindo's guys there now working that fucker over."

He pulled out of the hug and took your bloodied face into his bruised hands, "I don't want to hear that shit from you ever again, understand?" You swallowed, "no, you're going to be in the shit if you keep this up."

You smiled softly, "I understand. I really better look at your hands, I'm worried you're going to get fight bite."

Manny made a face and nodded, "I might take you up on that."

Bishop extended his hand "glad you could get here so fast, how are things in Charming?"

Happy shrugged, "we're not too happy about being back in this shit. Jax has another baby on the way, we thought we were done." He dropped his tools and the table and wandered over to the restrained man, "why does he look like that?"

The man's eyes were unfocused, his head lolled to the side, "y/n did it, she got the jump on his when the shooting started."

Happy nodded, "good for her, brave woman. I think I'll be able to get something out of him before the brain injury kills him." He turned back to Bishop, "look man, we want this over as much as you but the Sons are not getting back into the game. Jax has already asked around, if you need more help up north you've got it but we've already dealt with the problem on our end."

Bishop nodded, "yeah, we know. Jax made it clear that he was done. Don't worry, after this we'll keep you out of it."

"You feeling better after a shower?"

You nodded and reached across the pet the cat on Manny's lap, "much, Mr Butts missed you."

Manny chuckled, "I missed him too, the little guy is becoming my best friend."

You smiled, "I am not offended."

Manny looked at you, there was something soft in his eyes that was hard to place but because you could say something, his phone buzzed. Manny took it out of his pocket and sighed, "Marcus and Bish will be here soon. The guy talked, Bishop says they'll tell us more when they get here."

You closed your eyes in a mix of frustration and exhaustion, "alright, I'll put some coffee on."

"Hello, welcome to my home."

Marcus offered you an easy smile as he kicked off his shoes, "thank you for letting me in, we have some good news that I'm sure will help with this, nevertheless I think Emmanuel should stay for a few more days."

You nodded, "that's fine." They walked in and you headed to the kitchen, getting the coffee set and taking it out into the main room while they talked.

You placed it on the table with a smile then sat down yourself, Manny stopping you when you went to pour them a drink, "we can do it, stop making a fuss."

Bishop smiled, "where are the cats?"

You pointed to the sunroom, "I think Mr Butts will lose his shit when he see Marcus, I'm keeping them locked up so no one gets a cat in their face."

Marcus chuckled, "this is their home too and we are imposing, please let them out."

You huffed, "alright then, it's your face that's getting licked."

Sure enough, when you let them out the sound of three cats trotting on the hardwood floors filled the air. With a flash, Mr Butterscotch was on Marcus' lap, "this must me the famous Mr Butts I've heard all about, aren't you a sweet thing." Mr Butts got right to rubbing his head all over Marcus while Manny sat there looking unimpressed.

You smiled and picked Sir Fluffernutter off the floor and placed him in Manny's lap, "oh you poor thing, are you jealous?"

Manny scoffed, "I thought he was my buddy."

You shook your head and turned back to the other men, "what did you learn?"

Bishop smiled, "before the guy had a massive seizure and died from the head injury you gave him? It looks like this is connected to a business we look after. Some new rich peeker wood in town wants to buy it and he can't because the owners won't sell. The same guy caused waves in Charming a few years ago. I hate to do this too you but we need to ask you another favour."

Manny's voice was harsh as he spoke, "no fucking way Bish, hasn't she been through enough?"

The glare you gave Manny reminded Marcus of how Izzy used to look at him when he tried to pull the same macho shit, "you don't get a say Emmanuel. What do you need?"

Marcus smiled, "do you have next tomorrow free?"

You nodded, "yep, plus I've decided to take this week off work to recover so my whole dance card is free."

Manny clenched his jaw, "whatever it is I'm going with her."

Marcus didn't protest, "that's fine. This guy has another restaurant and he's meeting one of his buyers. We just need you to go to the place to have dinner and let us know when he shows up. He always has dinner with his wife at the same table right by the kitchen."

You smiled, "that's easy, you just tell me the time, place and dress code."

Manny huffed, "what if he recognises her?"

Bishop clenched his jaw, "he has no idea who y/n is, she's fine with it. Stop being difficult, if you don't stop being a bitch about it I'll send Angel along to keep her safe."

Your brow furrow, "please don't talk to Manny like that, he's just worried about me."

Bishop took a deep breath, "we'll talk tomorrow but I think we should let both of you get some rest."

You smiled, "thank you gentlemen."

You saw them out, the expression on Manny's face unreadable, "what's going on in your head? And don't even think about lying to me."

Manny sighed, "I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you."

You smiled, "you'll be there won't you, you're not going to let me get hurt. Plus, we'll get a nice dinner out of it."

Manny smiled, "nah, it won't be anywhere near as good as what you cook."

You had a small dinner later into the night, warming up a meal you had frozen with plans to have after a long day at work so you wouldn't have to cook, "I'll sleep on the pullout tonight." Manny's tone gave you no room to move.

"I can tell you won't take no for an answer so how about we take turns?"

Manny sighed, "fine, but you're taking the bed tonight."

You smiled, "thank you, you're very sweet."

Manny smiled back, his hand reaching across the table to hold yours, "nah, I'm just being a good guest and as long as I get to hang with the cats I'm alright with fucking up my back for one night."

The sound of distant shots didn't make you jump anymore, you had grown as used to it as the sound of your own breathing. It was the sound of the cars that had you worried and a quick glance at though the opening of the brown tent told you that you had every reason to be, the rebels were here. The child you were treating shared your worry, his gaze darting from you to the tent flap and back again.

You looked at your colleague, his eyes wide with worry, "we have a deal, they can't hurt us or our patients."

You swallowed, "you know why we're here right? We're here to put their leader away. That sack of files under that bed are full of testimony from his child soldiers."

You heard the cars stop and thumping as men jumped out of the opened topped cars and onto the ground, "they're here for the files, what do we do?" Your friend was right, you had heard rumours that the rebel general was making deals and there was no way he was going to let war crimes get in the way of that.

You squared your shoulders and put on a brave face, turning to the boy sitting on the bed getting his arm patched up, "I'm going to talk to these men then send you home, alright? You have nothing to worry about."

His face filled with fear but he nodded, "ok miss." You spun and faced the entrance waiting for them to walk up, their shadows filling the small place as a man reached out to open the tent.

"Hello, if you're here from treatment, you may need to wait, we have a lot of people to care for before we get to you." You tried to keep your voice even and your tone neutral.

The man smiled, it was cold, the action not reaching his eyes, "are you Dr y/n?"

You nodded, "I am, if you want to talk to me about the things you have seen, I have more than enough time for you when I'm done with my patients with physical ailments."

He stepped further into the tent, "we are here for your files, you will give them to us then we will be on our way."

You huffed, "and if I don't? We have an agreement with your boss that you will not harm anyone at this camp."

The nasty smile grew, "your agreement with our general is only in place with your complete cooperation." He raised the gun hanging over his back and you placed yourself in front of the little boy, his tiny hands gripping your shirt in fear, "that goes away if you want to be difficult."

You bit the inside of your cheek, "they're under the bed, take them and leave."

The man waved his friends in and they were gone moments later, every ounce of evidence against the monster they worked for leaving with them, "you got what you came for, now go."

He tilted his head, "thank you miss, you have been very helpful."

You had a terrible feeling as they left, a nervousness that made you reluctant to turn around and reassure the little boy that everything was going to be ok, it was the flurry of gunshots and the screaming that let you know you were right.

Manny couldn't sleep, he would nod off then wake up an hour later, look at the clock then turn around and try and again. He tossed and turned until two then he gave up, sitting up and placing his hand on Lady Midnight's soft body while her belly rose and fell as she slept.

His ears pricked at a sound, a soft whimper that had him worried. He listened and it came again, the momentary thought that the sound coming from your room was something else disappearing as your distress hit him full force.

He was up and towards your room before he could think, not stopping to think as his hand reached out to gently stroke your shoulder. Your eyes shot open and you took in a breath, composing yourself as you calmed down and turned the dial on the lamp on your bedside table, the room filling with a gentle light. "Is everything alright, are the cats ok. I didn't hear the alarm go off?"

You looked around the room, feeling a mix of fear from the leftover nightmare and shame for waking him up. Manny sat down as you sat up, his hand landing just above your knee, "I think you had a bad dream, I didn't want you to be scared."

You felt the emotions remerge, "I'm fine, I'm sorry I woke you. You can go back to bed."

Manny shook his head, "you're not fine, I couldn't sleep anyway. You wanna tell me what you were dreaming about?"

You shrugged, "the usual, I've seen a lot of horrible shit. Are you sure I didn't wake you up?"

He nodded, "nope I was wide awake, I can go back to the lounge room if you want?"

You shook your head and placed your hand over the one that was on your knee, "stay, please." You blinked, realising what you had just asked, "I don't want you to do anything you're not comfortable with, you don't have to."

He was already climbing into bed next to you, "even though that pullout is the most uncomfortable thing I've ever slept on, I slept great last night so maybe you're magic."

You giggled softly, "I don't think so."

There was another awkward moment as you thought over how you were going to lie back down, but Manny opened his arms, "come here." You caught the look on his face, his eyes soft and filled with affection as the corner of his lips tilted up ever so slightly. You reached over and turned off the lamp then settled into his arms, resting your head on his chest over his heart while Manny's hand softly gripped your upper arm while his thumb rubbed the skin.

"You were going to say something earlier, before the shooting started, what was it?"

Manny didn't know what to say so he lied, "I was going to say I wasn't upset that your face was the last face I was ever going to see."

You placed a hand on the other side of his chest, your fingering stroking his bare skin, "a little wordy, don't you think? I mean, I'm flattered and the sentiment is returned, but I feel a hearty fuck you is the best way to go out."

He chuckled, the pleasant noise reverberating through your skull, "I'll remember that for next time, Good night y/n."

You yawned and nuzzled further into his arms, "good night Emmanuel."

You woke in the same position you were in when you fell asleep, in Manny's embrace with your head over his heart. He was already awake, patting Sir Fluffernutter with the hand that had been on your upper arm "Help me, I've been stuck here for twenty minutes and every time I stop he bites me."

You giggled, sat up, and removed Sir Fluff from his chest, who responded with an unimpressed meow. "You good?"

He nodded, "I'm great, I really got to pee though."

You shook your head, "go pee, I can only hold off the others for so long." With a kiss on his fluffy forehead, you put the cat down, went behind the bamboo privacy screen and got dressed. Manny came out and you could hear him rustling around in his bag for his clothes so he could get ready for the day.

"Thank you for staying with me last night, I know it might have been a bit weird."

You could almost hear him shake his head, "not weird at all, I mean, we slept in the same bed the night before too. Plus, I slept like a log. Have you heard from anyone yet?"

You shook your head, "nope, I was going to do some googling on the restaurant, you can join me if you like?"

You heard Lady Midnight meow, "alright, I'll pick you up." Another meow and Manny's attention turned back to you, "I'm decent if you want to come out from behind that thing."

You sighed and walked to your vanity to grab the sunscreen, "thank you. Lady Midnight interrupted before you could answer my question, you wanna do some googling with me?"

He smiled, "sure, it's not like I've got anything else to do and I'd much rather spend the day with you and the cats than deal with Angel and his questions."

You sighed, "maybe we don't tell him about any of this?"

Manny nodded aggressively, "yeah, good idea. He'll never let us live it down."

"This is going to be a problem. They might let you in but there's no way I'm getting inside a place this fancy unless I wear a scarf and I'm not doing that." Manny's tone was a mix of frustration and anger.

You thought for a moment, "foundation and a good concealer, I'll have that tattoo covered right up. Unless you're fine with me going in alone?"

He shook his head and stood up, "is a drug store fine or do you need to go to some fancy makeup shop."

You chuckled, "the drug store is fine."

Manny grabbed your keys and you headed off, "I think we should stop by my place and pick up some nicer clothes, I think I have a dress shirt in the back of my closet somewhere."

You nodded, "good idea, I can iron it all nice for you. Did you look at the menu?"

Manny chuckled, "yeah, since it's not on my dime I'm thinking about getting the deluxe king's meal, steak, oysters, a chocolate mud cake."

You smiled, "sound yummy. I'm getting the wild mushroom ravioli with chicken bone broth and crispy onions."

Manny's eyebrows wrinkled, "what if it has truffles?"

You smiled, "it doesn't but the fact that you remember that I don't like them is real sweet."

He grinned, "yeah, I am sweet."

You shook your head, "don't push it, I could easily draw a penis on your face while I'm covering up that tat and you'd never know."

Manny gasped in fake offence, "you wouldn't?"

You nodded, "yep, a big old dick."

He shook his head and looked around, "is this place alright?"

It was the drug store on Mainstreet, "it's fine, you'll have to park and come in with me, I need to match everything to your skin tone."

"Are you having fun?" Manny didn't seem bored or upset.

"I want to get it perfect." You have been swatching foundations for twenty minutes before you found one that fit perfectly, "this one is good and I've already got concealer and power so we can go now. The bonus is it's all cruelty free. Your place now?"

He nodded, "yep, I'll be fast."

Manny didn't seem happy to be home, "what wrong?"

He shrugged, "I forgot how empty this place is, I'll be two seconds Tesoro, I know what I need."

You waited for him on the small couch, he was right, the place was pretty empty. He came out with his shirt in hand a few minutes later, "I'm good to go, you wanna head back to your place or stop over for something?"

You thought for a moment, then had an idea, "come on, I'm taking you for the best ice cream money can buy."

"Wow, this place is old fashioned."

You nodded, "I know but they have the nicest stuff ever, it's made in house and everything."

His eyes got wide when he saw the menu then something came over his face, "it reminds me of a place I used to take my sister."

You smiled softly, "I bet she had so much fun."

Manny nodded, "they have her favourite." He pointed to the item on the menu then cast his eyes to the ground. There was a sadness in his voice, a longing that came from loss.

You walked up to and went to order, "we'll take two of the strawberries and cream thick shakes please."

Manny looked at you, his expression soft, "can you add some extra strawberry sauce and caramel?"

The cashier nodded, "of course."

Manny turned to you with a smile, "she used to think having it with extra caramel made her grown up." There was a pause as he swallowed the lump in his throat, "thank you."

You placed a hand on his arm, "she would want you to remember that happy times, not the times when she was sick. If getting a thick shake can help you do that then that's the least I can do as your friend."

You waited until the drinks were ready than sat down, "you know what would make this whole thing even better?"

Manny smiled, "what?"

You pointed over to the hot food corner, "french fries." You popped up and ran over, buying a small cup and placing it in the middle of the table.

"Are you suggesting we dip the fries in the shake?"

You shrugged, "if you want, I'm going to enjoy them separately because I have a platelet but that's your choice."

Manny smirked at you, took two fries and swept them through the and popped them in his mouth, "it's really good."

You shook your head, "you are terrible, how are you going to go from this to gulping down oysters?"

There was a twinkle in his eyes, "I got a wide range of tastes Tesoro."

Time got away on you, and by the time you returned home, you had just enough time to shower and get dressed before heading off to the restaurant. You did your best not to look at Manny's bare chest as you covered up his tattoo, Manny giggling as you brushed the sponge over a particularly sensitive spot. You felt strange with your makeup done while wearing a shirt and pair of shorts, unwilling to put your dress on just yet in case you got it dirty.

"You alright?" His tone was light.

"I'm fine, I'm just trying to make this look good."

Manny smiled, "I'm sure you'll do fine, you just seemed flustered is all."

You rushed to find the right words, "you are very nice to look at and I didn't want to be weird, I realise I have just made it weird. Also with your tattoo covered up, you look like the TA I had a huge crush on in college."

Manny chuckled, "nah, you didn't make it weird but that's good to know."

You huffed, "don't be smug."

Manny went to respond but you heard someone key in the alarm code, then heard Coco's voice, "you guys ready to go?"

You looked over Manny's neck, then picked up the powder to set it before sending him out with his ironed shirt in hand, "I need to put my dress on, I'll be two minutes."

Manny headed out, his eyes rolling as he laid eyes on Angel, "what were you doing in y/n's bedroom?"

Manny shook his head, "she was making sure we got inside, nothing happened."

Angel shot him a look, "sure brother."

You came out a few minutes later, Manny's eyes going wide as he took you in. He stood up and looked you over, mute as he tried to come up with something to say, "you look really pretty."

You giggled, "thank you." The dress was simple, blue with small white flowers and capped sleeves. You turned to the other with a smile, "shall we head out?"

Angel smiled, "yeah, we'll head out. You do look nice."

You rolled your eyes, "you are a menace."

You went over your story while you were in the van, Manny adding his own thoughts as you went along. The plan was to wait until the business associate arrived then you would let the men in the van know they were there. You arrived and fixed your dress as you got out, Manny taking your hand as you walked to the restaurant, "you sure we didn't need a reservation?"

The worry in his voice was well founded, the line was long, "Angel said we didn't"

You got up to the host desk and she smiled before asking for a reservation, "we don't have one, I thought you guys took walk ins?"

You thought fast, taking the ring from around one finger and slipping it over your ring finger before wrapping your arm around Manny, "it's just that we had our first date here and we're celebrating our anniversary. I know it's a lot to ask but we got this really nice seat by the window near the kitchen. Not that I noticed the view with him sitting in front of me."

The host smiled, "I'll see what we can do, just a moment please."

She walked away and Manny gave you a look, "what?"

He shook his head, and leaned in close, "our friends just walked in, any bet they heard that?"

You smiled, "that's the plan."

You were seated right away, the host coming back with a smile as she led you to your table, "please take all the time you need, you cleared the table for the night." You had just enough time to the let the others know they were there before the man and his wife sat down next to you.

You picked up the menu and tried to act natural while the wife turned to you with a smile, "we overheard you guys, congratulations on getting engaged."

You smiled back at her and grabbed Manny's hand across the table, "thank you, it's been the best year of my life."

Manny placed his free hand on top of yours, his smile filled with affection, "how did you know?"

You wrinkled your eyebrows, "what do you mean?"

She pointed towards your ring, "how did you know you want to spend the rest of your life with him?"

You smiled, looking at Manny while you tried to find the words, "he makes me feel safe, like a war could be going on outside and nothing could touch me as long as he was there."

"What about you?" It was the first time you heard the man talk, he must have been paying more attention then he was letting on.

Manny leaned in closer to you and you swore you saw more than just affection in his eyes as he spoke, "she is the warmest, kindest person I've ever met. I know that no matter what's going on, she'll always help me through it. It helps that she's the most beautiful thing I've ever laid my eyes on."

You felt your face get warm and you giggled, "he's very charming too."

The man smiled at you and waved a waiter over, "your best wine for our friends and a dozen oysters and your best steaks."

You went to protest, "please let me show you a good time, there's nothing better than young love."

Manny smiled, "you're very kind, thank you sir."

You spoke to them most of the night, it was surprisingly easy to answer their questions, the lies feeling less and less like lies as the night went on. The man got a call and walked off and before long, his wife was leaving too, "it was lovely meeting you two. I think you have a long and happy marriage ahead of you."

When she was out of view, Manny's hand remained on yours, "we need to get out there and find out who he's talking to."

You nodded, "good idea, he went out onto the street, if we head out the back we can watch from the alley."

You thanked the staff, then headed out the back entrance, walking up the alleyway until you could hear the man speaking before you rested against the brick wall and pulled Manny in close, his eyes going wide, "what are you doing?"

You smiled and placed your hands on his shoulder, "I'm making this look like a private conservation between lovers."

Manny smiled and leaned in closer, listening to the man's conversations.

"I don't know where you're getting off, you told me you'd have the finance and now you don't, what kind of shady shit are you pulling?"

You pressed your cheek to Manny's, "it doesn't look like he knows what going on, maybe this guy is just in it for the cash."

You listened further and it became muggier, the one sided conversation making it seem like he had some idea what was going on but didn't really care.

He must have realised you were there because he turned his head to look towards the alleyway. Manny thought fast, whispering out a quick apology before pressing his lips to yours. You were stunned for a few moments before melting into the kiss. Time faded as he held your face in his hands as you held his waist. One hand left your cheek and moved to your ribs to pull you closer, a soft moan coming out of your mouth without your permission.

Your hand moved to the back of his head and you nipped his lower lips, Manny letting out a grunt as he deepened the kiss even further. "Sorry." Manny moved impossibly closer as the man brushed by you, his lips finally detached from yours as he walked away.

There were a few moments of silence while you shared the same air then the magic was gone, "we should get back to the van."

Manny nodded and rubbed his face, "good idea." He placed his hand on your lower back as you walked back to the others, the door opening as you got close.

Angel gave you a smile, "how was dinner?" There was something in his tone that had you worried.

"Dinner was nice, did you get what you needed?" You felt the telltale signs of a migraine coming on, the outcome of the wine you were drinking at dinner

Coco nodded, "yep, we had plenty of time to go snooping."

Angel smiled, "dinner was just good? Because what happened in that alleyway says otherwise."

You clenched your jaw, "please shut up, had Manny not kissed me he might have caught on, it was just a part of the act."

Angel raised an eyebrow, "you keep telling yourself that. We'll drive you two back to your place, if all goes well, Manny should be back in his own bed tomorrow night."

You made it halfway to your house before you couldn't hide how much pain you were in, "are you alright Tesoro?"

You shook your head, "I should not have had that wine."

Coco's turned sharply towards you, "you had wine, were you asking for a migraine?

You sighed, "I didn't really have an option, I just like to go home so I can rest."

Manny swallowed and placed his hand on your knee, "I'll feed the cats and clean their trays, the moment we get in you can go and have a hot shower, take your meds and lie down."

You smiled as best you could, "I don't have the energy to protest, I owe you."

Manny chuckled, "don't mention it."

You gave the cats a quick hello before going right into the bedroom to shower, leaving Manny and Angel in the living room.

"Can you cover for me at Templo tomorrow, I know she's going to feel shit and I don't want to leave her alone."

Angel smiled, "sure mano. When are you going to tell her the truth?"

Manny glared at him, "dude, just let it go. She's my friend, I don't want to ruin anything between us."

Angel shook his head, "maybe you should grow a set of testicles and just try, judging by that kiss, I think she returns your feelings."

The cats meowing brought the conversation to a merciful stop, "I need to feed the cats, go or you'll be picking up their shit."

Angel headed towards the door with a smile, "just remember what I said."

Manny waited a while after he heard the shower stop before going to the kitchen and grabbing some crackers and cold water before knocking on your door.

"Come in."

The cats came rushing and jumped on the bed while Manny sat on the edge and put the tray down, "thank you, you didn't need to do that."

Manny smiled, "it's alright, did you take your meds?"

You nodded, "yep, they'll take about an hour but I'll be fine in the morning."

Manny placed his hand on your knee, an action that was starting to feel deeply familiar, "can I stay with in here with you again tonight, I don't really want to spend the night on that thing and there's no way I'm letting you do it."

You smiled softly, "I would like that very much."

"Where's Manny?" Marcus was relieved that it was finally over, the information they gained last night being the final nail in the coffin.

Angel smirked, "with y/n, she wasn't feeling well last night and he didn't want to leave her all by herself today."

Marcus nodded, "that's understandable with everything that she's been through this last week but I'm getting the sense that's there more to it than that. What the hell is going on between them?"

The look on Bishop's face could have frozen hell, "not you too." He huffed, "they're in love and their both too scared to say anything, if it's not bad enough that I have to hear about it from these fucks every chanced they get, I have to get it from you now too?"

Marcus was taken aback but he recovered quickly, "how long has this being going on?"

"Since they met, and before you ask any more questions, they've both admitted it." Of course Angel would let the cat out of the bag.

Coco's eyes went wide, "y/n came clean, well shit, I never saw that coming."

Creep huffed, "some friend you are, are you blind? It's pretty obvious how she feels about him."

Marcus slammed his hand on the table and turned to Bishop, "you better deal with this Primo or I'll send Izzy to."

They all collectively shuddered, no one wanted that.

Part 6

Song inspo for this post Hozier - Like Real People Do

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Chapter six will be released after 20 points

[mxlti-fand0m-imaginess]

Ouija Board // Tate Langdon

request: none

prompts: none

warnings: use of a ouija board, murder, crying, scaring people

a/n: i just used random names for the friends, so sorry if that’s your name :)

“Come on y/n, don’t chicken out on us now!” Liz said, dragging you towards the house.

“It’ll be fun! I promise,” Dylan said, grabbing a large rock to break the doorknob.

You were stood in front of the infamous Murder House. And stupidly, you let your friends talk you into coming here and using a ouija board. You never really believed in ghosts or anything like that, but you were still scared nonetheless.

“There are easier ways to get in you know,” Liz said, rolling her eyes as Dylan smashed the rock against the doorknob, knocking it to the floor.

“Yeah but this is more fun.”

“Should we really be doing this? We could get in trouble for breaking in. I don’t think I could survive jail.”

“Oh my god y/n, we’ll be fine. And Dylan knows what he’s doing. Besides, don’t you wanna talk to ghosts?”

“Nope, not really.”

“Ugh, you’re no fun.”

“Ok, I got the door open!”

The two of you looked towards the door where Dylan was. The door was now open, and he had already walked inside. You felt your stomach drop, wanting nothing more than to get out of there. But Liz had other plans. She grabbed your arm and began to drag you inside.

With a sigh, you gave up on fighting and figured you might as well try to have fun. When you vented the house, an overwhelming smell of mold filled your senses. It was disgusting. There was sheets over the furniture, and leftover belongings scattered everywhere.

“That’s weird, there isn’t any dust here,” Dylan said as he swiped his finger along the mantle.

“Maybe there’s a maid ghost who has to spend eternity cleaning. That sounds like an awful afterlife,” Liz replied, laughing softly.

“Can we just get this over with already? I’m getting bad vibes from this place,” you said, feeling as if someone’s eyes were trained on you.

“That’s kinda the point. This is supposedly the most haunted building in the world. So many people have been brutally murdered. I would give anything to live here.”

“Dylan, you are really fucked up,” Liz said while laughing.

You rolled your eyes at your best friends, and followed them deeper into the house, until you arrived in front of a door.

“Here it is, the basement. I’ve read online, that most of the ghosts like to stay down there.”

“Let’s go!” Liz squealed, pushing the door open and speeding down the stairs.

Dylan followed her, leaving you alone at the top of the stairs. You sighed and started to walk down the steps. The. you heard a noise from behind you. You quickly turned around to see that the door was shut.

You brushed it off, thinking you must’ve bumped it, and continued down the stairs to find Dylan and Liz setting the ouija board up. You sat down beside them and tried to calm yourself, knowing it would all be over soon.

“Ok, place your fingers on the cup, and then we can talk to the ghosts.”

You and Liz did what Dylan said, placing your fingers on top of the glass placed in the middle of the bored.

“Is there anyone there?” Dylan asked.

Nothing happened for a second, but then the cup started to move. It dragged itself over to the ‘yes’ and then stopped.

“Oh my god,” you murmured, starting to feel fear come over you.

“What’s your name?” Liz asked the ghost.

The cup moved again, and began to spell out a name.

H-A-Y-D-E-N

“Y/n, ask them something!” Liz said smiling excitedly.

“Is there anything you want to tell us?” you asked, not really sure that you wanted an answer.

R-U-N

The lights in the basement flickered off leaving you guys in the darkness.

“I’m pretty sure that’s our cue to leave,” you said, beginning to stand up.

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” Liz said.

The three of you got up and ran towards the straits, trying to get out of the basement. Liz and Dylan made it out, but the door slammed in front of you before you could follow.

You pulled on the door knob but it wouldn’t budge. You started to pound on the door, screaming for Liz and Dylan, but they were too far away to here you.

“They can’t hear you. They already left,” a voice behind you said.

You turned around and stared into the darkness.

“Who are you?” you asked, feeling your voice quiver.

“Wow, you forgot me already? Ouch. I’m Hayden, remember? I told you to run, but I guess you didn’t wanna listen.”

You didn’t get the chance to say anything, before you felt yourself being shoved down the stairs. You tumbled down them, before landing on the concrete floor of the basement.

You carefully tried to pull yourself up, but you were immediately pushed back down again. The lights turned on and you screamed at what you saw before you. A monster like creature hovered above you, and the next thing you saw was black.

~

You slowly opened your eyes and sat up, feeling your conscious come back to you. You looked around, panicking, trying to remember where you were. Then it all came back to you. The basement. Murder House. Liz and Dylan. They left you.

You wanted to be angry, but you didn’t have the time. Right now, you just had to get out of here. You wanted to go home and be safe in your room. You took off running, heading up the stairs and out of the basement.

You ran toward the front door, pushing it open and heading towards the street. But then, you were back in the house. You ran out again, only to end up back inside once more. You tried over, and over to leave, but you couldn’t. You kept ending up back inside the house.

You gave up. You let your weight fall against a wall behind you, and slid down it, curling into a. ball sobbing. We’re you going crazy? What was happening to you? Why couldn’t you leave? Why can’t you remember anything after entering the basement?

Then you felt a presence beside you. A teenage boy, with wavy blond hair and dark brown eyes. He was beautiful. You might’ve been feeling butterflies, if not for the overwhelming sense of panic that currently filled you.

“Hey, I’m Tate,” he said smiling softly.

“Y/n,” you replied hesitantly.

“So, I bet you’re pretty confused right now.”

“How’d you know?”

“Well, I saw you running around, trying to leave.”

“Why can’t I?”

He fell silent for a moment, and locked away.

“Uhm, you’re dead.”

Your eyes widened and you immediately stood up and backed away from him.

“What? I’m not dead! My friends and I came here to talk to ghosts and now they’re gone and I can’t leave. But I’m not dead! That’s crazy!”

“Y/n, I saw you die. I moved your body,” he paused for a second before continuing,” Do you wanna see it?”

“Wait so let me get this straight. You just watched me get murdered and did nothing about it, you moved my body, and now you wanna show it to me? You’re crazy! None of this makes sense! I’m not dead! I can’t be dead! I think I would remember dying!”

“You can’t. No one can. I don’t remember my own death. I’ve only heard what people told me.”

“Oh really? You’re dead too? Fine, then tell me? How did you die?”

He went silent once more.

“I don’t wanna tell you.”

“See, I knew it! You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying, it’s just-, if I tell you, you’re going to be scared of me.”

You laughed once more, not believing a word that he was saying.

“I doubt that. If you really are dead, just tell me!”

“Fine! I was shot by the cops.”

Then it hit you. Shot by the cops. You remembered hearing about that when Dylan went on one of his rants about the house. Wait, Tate as in Tate Langdon? The guy who shot up your high school in the 90s?

“Do you believe me know?” he asked softly.

“Oh my god. You were that guy who shot up my high school like thirty years ago right? Wait, so you are telling the truth. But I, I can’t be dead. There’s so much I still wanted to do. I’ve never even fallen in love, I’ll never have a future. I’ll never get to do anything with my life.”

You started to sob again, realization washing over you. He wasn’t lying. You were dead. You were really dead. You felt a pair of arms wrap around you, and you looked up to find Tate hugging you.

Slowly you wrapped your arms around him, desperately searching for comfort. But that said comfort was soon gone when someone else started to speak.

“Aw, am I interrupting something?”

That voice. You’ve heard it before. Part of it came back to you. It was her. She pushed you down the stairs. You pulled away from Tate and glared at the girl.

“You! You killed me!” you yelled at her.

“No, no, no. I didn’t kill you. I just helped that creature down there do it.”

“Why? Why would you do that?”

“It was getting boring. I wanted someone new around here.”

“Go away Hayden,” Tate said, glaring at her.

“Ugh fine,” she said before disappearing.

“Well, I guess I’ll show you around?”

a few months later

It’s been a few months since you’ve died, and you’ve already adjusted to your new life. Things weren’t so bad. You were kinda friends with Violet, and you and Tate have been dating for a while.

Being dead didn’t really bother you anymore. You’ve started to see the bright side of it. No more getting sick. You didn’t have to take your finals. And you never had to see your so called “friends” who left you here to die.

At least that’s what you thought. You and Tate were sitting together in the basement when the door opened. You didn’t think much of it, until you heard a familiar voice.

“How do you even know she’s here?”

You gasped. It was Liz. And Dylan was walking right behind her. They were back. You were so angry at them for leaving you. They left you behind to die.

The two of them sat down next to you and Tate, setting up their ouija board. You looked at Tate and smirked. You were going to have fun with this.

“Is anyone there?” Dylan asked.

You walked over to them and pushed the cup to yes.

“Who are you?” Liz said, seeming a little more nervous than she was the last time she was here.

You moved the glass to spell out your name, laughing when you saw how scared the looked.

“Y/n, we’re so sorry! We thought you were behind us! And when we finally got outside, the door wouldn’t open,” Dylan said.

You moved the cup once more.

Y-O-U-L-E-F-T-M-E

“Y/n we’re sorry! No one believed us when we went to get help. Your parents thought you ran away. We tried! We really did!” Liz pleaded.

Y-O-U-D-I-D-N-T-E-V-E-N-C-O-M-E-B-A-C-K

“We were too scared. We’re so sorry. Y/n, please.”

You and Tate laughed at their pleas. You weren’t going to forgive them. You couldn’t. Not after what they did to you.

“Go mess with the lights!” you asked Tate.

He nodded and ran over to the light switch, flicking it on and off.

“Dylan, maybe we should get out of here!”

L-E-A-V-I-N-G-S-O-S-O-O-N-?

“No we’re not! Liz, come on we have to talk to her.”

“I don’t know Dylan, they seem angry.”

You decided to let them hear you. You kept yourself hidden, but let your voice be heard.

“Angry? Why would I be angry? It’s not like the only people I’ve ever trusted forced me to come when I said I didn’t want to and them left me to die. Oh wait? That did happen.”

When you finished speaking, Tate left the lights off. The door opened at the top of the stairs, and Dylan and Liz ran. They left the board and left the basement, heading for the open front door. Before they could get out, Tate slammed it shut. They both screamed.

“Aw, you’re leaving already?” you asked, before laughing.

Then you let them see you. You appeared in front of the door, and you made your wounds visible too.

They gasped when they saw you. Covered in scratches and dripping blood. Clothes torn to shreds. Bruises littering you.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry,” Liz said stepping closer to you.

“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I’m sorry,” Dylan said to you.

You didn’t say anything you only glared at them. Then Tate appeared beside you.

“You two should leave before you’re not able to anymore.”

Then you and Tate disappeared and opened the door, allowing them to run out, before slamming it shut once more.

As soon as they were gone, you both burst out laughing. Sure you’ve scared people who’ve tried to buy the house before, but this was the best reaction you’ve ever gotten. They were terrified.

“So do you finally feel like you got your revenge?” Tate asked, smiling brightly at you.

“Yeah, thanks for helping me,” you said, pulling him into a tight hug.

“You don’t have to thank me. I’d do anything for you.”

~

Taglist: @ahsxual @darlingkitt @1800-fuckbitchesgetmoney @horrorgirlx @jamespotterslover

[jungwonenthusiast]

Friends Don't Lie Ch. 1

Pairing: Jungwon x reader

Warnings for this chapter: underage drinking and smoking, mention of porn

Chapter word count: 2k

Based on: Stranger Things

Sunoo

“Can we play please?” Sunoo pleads, tugging at Sunghoon's sleeve.

“No, you’re not a baby.” he rolls his eyes.

“Who said d and d was for babies?” Sunoo scoffs and plops onto the couch.

“Everyone,” Jay says while trying on one of Jungwon’s jackets. “Even Niki doesn’t play anymore.”

Sunoo groans. “You guys are boring.”

“I’ll play with you.” Jake ruffles his hair.

“We need at least four people.” he whines.

“You guys play, we’re gonna go to the drive-in.” Niki says.

“And do what? Makeout with people and get gonorrhea?”

“That’s not how STDs work, dumbass.” Jay laughs.

“Whatever,” Sunoo rolls his eyes again.

“It’ll be fun man, just come with us.” Jungwon grabs at his arm. “Plus you like scary movies.”

“It’s Videorome, isn’t that movie about porn?” Sunoo frowns.

“Just come,” Jungwon begs. “I’m gonna be the only one without a chick, you have to keep me company.”

“I’m just gonna go home, Heeseung hyung will be mad if I stay out.” Sunoo stands up and slings his backpack over his shoulder.

“You gonna bike home?” Jake asks while spritzing cologne on his neck.

“Yeah, I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” Sunoo says while making his way up the basement stairs.

“See you.”

“Bye Ddeonu.” Jay teases.

Sunoo walks by Mrs. Yang who’s cleaning up the kitchen.

“Bye Mrs. Yang, thank you for dinner, it was delicious.” he smiles at her.

“Of course Sunoo-shi, are you going home now? I thought you boys were going to the drive in?”

He shrugs. “Yeah but I figured I should go home so that my hyung doesn’t worry.”

She smiles and pats his head. “Such a sweet boy, tell him I said hi alright?”

He nods and heads out the door.

It’s pitch black out and the air feels dry.

Sunoo mounts his bike and starts to peddle home, but something moving in the corner of his eye catches his attention.

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Jungwon

Jungwon feels bad. He hates feeling this way. It’s eating at his conscience.

“Why are you guys so mean to Sunoo?” Jungwon says while steering his Camaro.

“What are you talking about?” Jay lights a cigarette and Jungwon slaps it out of his hand.

“Don’t smoke in here, my mom will kill me.” he scolds.

Jay rolls his eyes and throws it out the window.

“It’s just our way of showing affection.” Sunghoon says with Niki sitting on his lap. The car doesn’t have nearly enough seats to fit all of them, but they make it work.

“You need help if you think that’s what affection is.” Jungwon grumbles.

Jake shakes his shoulder. “Loosen up Jungwon, he knows we love him.”

“I hope.” he replies.

Jungwon always wishes he could be nicer to Sunoo. Everytime he sees him he thinks, I should compliment Sunoo or tell him that I appreciate him. But he never does and he hates himself for it.

Jungwon parks in their usual spot.

“I’m gonna go try to con us some beers.” Jay says before hopping out the car.

“Don’t get arrested.” Sunghoon jokes.

Jake rolls down the window to chat with the girls next to them.

Jungwon slumps into his seat. Something feels wrong. They go to the drive in all the time, but something feels off. Everything feels, sounds, and smells the same. But there’s a tinge of pain in Jungwon’s heart. Maybe Jay’s cigs are starting to get to me, he thinks, but he knows that he’s lying to himself.

“Can you just go to her car?” Sunghoon groans. “We exist too you know?”

“Fine,” Jake opens to car door and merrily makes his way to her Ford.

Jay comes jogging up to the car with two cans of beer in each hand. “I am incredible.”

“Indeed you are.” Sunghoon reaches out for one. Niki does too but Jay pulls his hand away.

“No way man.” Jay chuckles and Niki groans.

“I’m literally taller than you.”

“And I weigh more,” Jay says. “No beer until you’re seventeen.”

Jay hands Jungwon a can and he reluctantly cracks it open. He never liked beer but he figured he needed it today.

He lets the bitter substance go down his throat. He holds his breath before swallowing so that he can’t taste it.

Jungwon watches the movie in a daze. The alcohol has gone to his head and everything feels calmer despite the gore being displayed on the screen.

“Shit, it’s eleven thirty.” Jake says. “I’ll drive us home, you’re all too drunk.”

“I can drive.” Jungwon insists.

“No you can’t.” Jake pulls him up by the arms and guides him to the backseat.

Jungwon rests his head on his hand as Jake drops everyone off.

“Alright get up Won, we’re here.” Jake parks the Camaro in the driveway.

“I’m tired.” Jungwon whines and gets up sluggishly.

“You’re such a lightweight.” Jake chuckles and helps him to the door. “Get to your room before your parents see you.”

“Roger that.” Jungwon mumbles and tries to sober up before heading through the door.

The stairs moan underneath his feet as he quietly climbs them. He can hear Jooyoung chatting on the phone as he walks to his room.

He changes into pajamas and heads to the bathroom. His cheeks are pink and his eyes are half open.

“Damn, I am a lightweight.” he says while observing his face in the mirror.

He splashes water on his face and rakes his hands through his hair.

The bathroom light flickers. He furrows his brow.

“I thought dad fixed that last week.”

He washes up quietly and knocks on Jooyoung’s door.

“What?” she calls out.

He creaks the door open. “Don’t be on the phone for too long noona, mom will get mad.”

She rolls her eyes. “She doesn’t need to know, don’t be a snitch.”

“I never am.” he sighs and closes the door.

He climbs into bed and turns to look at the photo on his nightstand. It’s him and the gang at seventh grade graduation.

Jay is smiling big and towering over the rest of them. He was always the tallest among them and Jungwon was dead jealous.

Jake’s arm is slung around Jungwon and Jungwon’s arm is around little Sunoo. Sunoo’s smile is bright and cute. His suit jacket is too big for him, he probably borrowed it from Heeseung.

Jungwon still remembers the day he and Sunoo met. It was the first day of kindergarten. Sunoo was alone on the swing set, staring at his feet. Jungwon had a few friends that he met in preschool but he wondered what the harm was to have one more. He asked Sunoo if he wanted to be friends. It was the best decision he ever made.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Breakfast!” Jungwon’s mom calls out as he pulls on a striped polo.

He skips down the stairs and sits down at the dining table.

“Have you seen Sunoo? Heeseung called this morning.” Mrs. Yang says while handing him a plate of waffles, bacon, and eggs.

“No, I thought he biked home.” Jungwon cocks a brow while pouring syrup over all of his food.

“That’s disgusting.” Jooyoung remarks while taking a seat next to him.

“Your face is disgusting.” he jeers.

“Well make sure he’s at school today okay? Heeseung sounded really worried.” Mrs. Yang sits down next to her husband.

“Does he think he got kidnapped or something? As if anyone would want him.” Jooyoung snickers.

“Fuck off, that’s not funny.” Jungwon says.

“Language.” Mr. Yang says sternly.

“She’s being an ass.” Jungwon rolls his eyes.

“What did you just call me?” Jooyoung’s head snaps towards him.

“Whatever.” he dismisses her.

She shoves his shoulder. “No, say it again.”

“Stop it! Both of you!” Mrs. Yang yells. “Can we not have one peaceful breakfast?”

“I can, I don’t know about her though.” Jungwon grumbles.

“I’ll kill you.” Jooyoung grits her teeth.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” Jungwon replies.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Sunoo’s not at school.

“Do you think he’s sick or something?” Jake wonders.

“That doesn’t make sense though, his mom said he never came home last night.” Jungwon chews on his pencil.

“Maybe he went to someone’s house.” Jay suggests and Jungwon gives him a look.

“Who’s house would he have gone to? We’re his only friends.”

Jay shrugs. “Maybe he has a secret lover.” Sunghoon chuckles.

“Why aren’t you guys taking this seriously? Something could have happened.” Jungwon crosses his arms.

“I’m sure he’s fine. Nothing bad ever happens in this shit town anyway.” Jake says right as Mr. Jones walks into the classroom.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Jungwons heart drops further and further into his stomach as the day goes on with no sign of Sunoo.

The boys are playing basketball during p.e when Principal Coleman and a policeman walk into the gym.

“I wonder who’s weed they found.” Jay jokes but his smile diminishes as the two men approach them.

“Gentlemen we need to speak to you,” Principal Coleman says, ��outside that is.”

They all give each other nervous looks but follow suit. Jungwon can feel eyes on his back as he makes his way out of the door.

“Do you know what route Sunoo takes to get home?” the chief says. He towers over them and his biceps look the same width as Jungwon's thighs.

“Yeah, he takes Mirkwood.” Jungwon replies quickly.

“Don’t fucking call it that anymore.” Jay rolls his eyes.

“What the hell is Mirkwood?” the man says and crosses his arms. “Stop messing around, this is serious.”

“It’s where Cornwallis and Kerley meet.” Jake says.

“Why do you call it Mirkwood?” the cop says, unimpressed.

“It’s from The Hobbit.” Jungwon says and Jay shoves his shoulder.

“What? I’m just telling the truth.” Jungwon exclaims.

“So what happened to Sunoo?” Sunghoon says plainly. “Where is he?”

“We’re not sure, he’s probably at his Dad’s-”

“Why would he go there, his dad’s a cock.” Jay argues.

“His dad sucks.” Sunghoon says under his breath.

“Enough, let me do my job alright?” the cop says, exasperated.

“We can help look for him, we know all the places he likes to go.” Jungwon says with hopeful eyes and Niki nods.

“Yeah, we can help.” Jake says.

“No,” the cop shakes his head. “After school you are all to go home, and if I see any of you searching around, I’ll have you in shackles. Is that clear?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“We have to.”

“What if we get caught?”

“Then we run.” Jay says while packing a backpack of supplies.

“You think we can out run him?” Jungwon gets up and pulls a jacket on.

“Of course we can, that dude was huge.” Niki says while chugging down a Coke.

“Don’t drink that,” Sunghoon tsks. “You’ll have to pee.”

“I’ll just piss in the woods.” Niki rebuttals.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

The sun had set an hour ago and the stars were twinkling bright.

“Where are you boys going?” Mrs. Yang asks while watching tv on the couch.

“Party.” Jungwon says quickly.

“With backpacks?” She raises an eyebrow.

“Uhm, yeah.” Jungwon nods and she giggles.

“You’re not a good liar Jungwon-ah. Have fun, don’t be stupid out there.” she says and they happily head out the door.

Jungwon drives to Mirkwood with his headlights off. He couldn’t risk getting caught, that cop scared the shit of him.

“There’s a barricade.” Jake says quietly.

“Yeah,” Sunghoon says while getting out of the car, pulling his flashlight out of his backpack. “Shit, it’s raining.” Jay wipes a raindrop off of his cheek.

Jungwon takes his flashlight out and pulls his hood over his head.

They hop over the blockade and venture into the dense woods.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

It’s pouring at this point and their hoods are only making things worse.

They can’t even hear their footsteps over the sound of crashing rain.

“What are we supposed to be looking for?” Jake asks.

“Anything, his bike, his jacket, him.” Jay says.

Jungwon was starting to regret this decision. They’ve been walking for what seemed like hours with no clue of Sunoo.

“Maybe we should turn back,” Jungwon says. “This isn’t working.”

“No,” Jay says. “We need to keep looking, cops miss shit all the time.”

“Hold on hold on,” Jake stops in his tracks.

“What?” everyone asks.

“Shut up, do you hear that?” he says and they all try to open their ears. There’s rustling coming from ahead. Something is coming towards them.

“Fuck.” Jungwon whispers and grabs onto Jay's arm.

They all lift their flashlights to find a human in nothing but an oversized yellow shirt, breathing heavily and squinting from the lights blinding their eyes.

[sleepysnk]

this wasn't requested, but it has been on my mind all night! i decided to give you guys some angst, this will he set in a modern high school au and Eren is the classic bad boy, while reader is the good girl. i'm not gonna share too much, but here ya go! i hope you guys enjoy, this will be manbun Eren btw!

Eren x Fem!Reader: You Don't Need Me

Warnings: angst, some mentions of violence (not to reader), police involvement

(Y/N) giggled as she got into the car with Eren. He was picking her up from her job at the cafe. 

"Hey.. thank you for the ride," she said and looked at him with a smile. 

Eren smiled and ran a hand through his hair. "No problem.. don't ever hesitate to message me when you need one," he said and began to drive the car. 

Eren and (Y/N) had been talking for a pretty long time, the girl who had a crush on the boy since junior year. Now as a senior, she finally got the opportunity to get to know him, with the help of her friend Armin who was friends with Eren. She never thought she would ever get this far in speaking or being this close with him. Eren was always so closed off. 

"You want anything to eat?" he asked and looked at her. 

She sighed. "Not really.. I gotta get home to study for this exam. It's crucial for me," she replied and leaned back in the seat. 

Eren nodded. "Exams are stupid, why let a score determine what you're gonna be in life?" he said, shrugging.

She laughed a bit and looked on her phone. "Easy for you to say, you never are in school," she said. 

He laughed. "Okay, that's true," he replied, glancing over at her.

(Y/N) was the perfect student. 4.0 GPA, was on the dance team, had multiple college scholarships offered, was in AP classes, and had an amazing report card. It was no overstatement to say she was set for greatness in life. 

Eren wasn't the best student. The boy never really was in school, he had bad grades, a bad temper, got into trouble with the law, fights, drugs once or twice, and has gotten suspended multiple times. There was almost a time where Eren got into so much trouble that he almost got expelled, thanks to Carla and Grisha, his parents, that didn't happen. 

Thing was, Eren never mentioned any of the bad to (Y/N). As far as the girl knew, Eren was just a simple lazy guy who didn't come to school. He kept her out of that shit, he felt like she didn't need to know. 

"Alright.. we're here" he said and put the car in park. 

(Y/N) gathered her things and looked at him. "Thank you for the ride, it means a lot" she said and smiled at him. 

Eren smiled. "No problem, I'll see you tomorrow? Text me" he replied and gave her a hug. 

She nodded. "See you later" she said and got out of his car. 

Eren waved as she got out, he waited for her to get inside and he drove off. He had to go do something for someone he knew, and he had to do it fast. 

His phone began to ring and he noticed it was the guy. "Hey.. I'm on my way" he said. 

The guy who's name was Porco, sighed. "Good.. you need to hurry your ass up, we have to get this shit in your car and out of here" he said. 

Eren nodded. "Okay, I'll be there soon" he replied and hung up. 

He drove about 15 minutes away and arrived at the place. He sent a text to Porco, and waited for someone to come out. Eren felt nervous, realizing it was now past curfew, cops would be crawling around. Especially at this time of night and where he was. 

He heard a knock on his window and saw a hooded figure, Eren got out and looked at the guy. Porco removed his hoodie. 

"Finally you got here, take it. Hide it and don't show anyone" he said and handed Eren a bag. 

The bag felt heavy and he felt the metal of the handgun through it. "You got it" he said and looked around. 

Porco nodded. "Alright man I believe in you, don't get caught" he said and tapped his arm. 

Eren got back into the car as Porco walked off, he began to drive back to his house. He had to hide this gun as quickly as possible, he heard his phone go off and he noticed (Y/N) texted him. The text made him smile, he knew how much she liked him, she was so cute. 

As Eren was texting back his worst fear was now facing him as the red and blue flashes appeared behind him. 

"Shit!" Eren yelled and looked around for a place to pull over. 

Eren's anxiety shot through the roof. He already had enough issues with the law, he shoved the gun under the passenger seat and hoped for the best. 

The officer knocked on the window. "License and registration please" he said. 

Eren rolled down the window and grabbed his license, he searched the glovebox for the registration and handed it to the officer. 

The officer looked at it. "Eren Jaeger huh? I remember you, you stole alcohol and I found you drinking" he said and laughed a bit. 

He rolled his eyes and shook his leg nervously. "I don't remember you very much" he replied and tried to seem cool. 

"I'm gonna go run your stuff, remain here" the officer said and walked away. 

Eren felt his heart beating in his ears, he wanted to get this over already. He wasn't even sure why he was pulled over, he wasn't even doing anything bad. 

The officer came back and handed him his stuff. "I pulled you over because you were speeding and you were texting and driving. Considering your record, I'm going to have to search the vehicle. You can refuse but-" the officer stopped when he looked in the car seeing a beer bottle. "Sir.. have you been drinking tonight?" he asked. 

Eren furrowed his brows. "No? I'm fine" he replied. 

"There's a beer bottle right there" he said and pointed at it.

Fuck. 

"Eren I'm going to have to ask you to please step out of the vehicle" the officer said and looked at him. 

He sighed and unbuckled his seatbelt. "It's not mine.. I don't know how it got there" he said as he got out. 

"I need backup" the officer said on his radio. "Wait right there on the curb" he added and pointed at the curb. 

Eren sat down on the curb and saw another cop car pull up, the two officers began talking and one of them came over to Eren. 

"Alright so we're going to search your vehicle, we have probable cause. Is there any kind of weapon in your vehicle we should be concerned about? This is when you should be honest" the officer asked. 

Eren looked up. "No.." he replied. 

The officers went to go search Eren's car, he felt anxiety going through him. He silently prayed that they wouldn't find the gun, he felt sick he wanted to throw up on the spot. 

"What do we have here?" the officer said and looked at Eren. He was holding the bag with the gun in it. "You're going to jail tonight," he added. 

Fuck. 

The next day (Y/N) didn't see Eren at school, she was a bit confused, maybe he was skipping again? 

She was sitting in class with her friend Sasha. "He hasn't texted me back at all" (Y/N) said and looked at her. 

Sasha shrugged. "Maybe he's asleep, Eren is always skipping. You know you could ask Mikasa or Armin, they usually know" she said. 

She sighed. "Armin told me he doesn't know anything apparently" she replied. 

Sasha put her hand onto her shoulder. "Just ask Mikasa" she said. 

The bell rang and students began to exit the classroom, (Y/N) made her way down the stairs and saw Mikasa standing with Armin. The two seemed to be talking about something, she just wanted to know where the hell Eren was. 

"Hey Mikasa… have you seen Eren?" (Y/N) asked and nodded. 

Mikasa looked at her and rolled her eyes. "I know where he is, he's so stupid! I'm surprised you're asking, considering you both are so close" she replied. 

(Y/N)'s brows furrowed. "Huh? What do you mean? Eren said he'd come to school" she said and sounded confused. 

The dark-haired girl looked at Armin. "You don't know?" he asked and nodded. 

(Y/N) seemed genuinely confused by what the two were saying. "No.. I don't, guys can you please just tell me?" she replied. 

Mikasa sighed. "Eren is in jail, he got caught with a gun last night. He's so stupid, this is his 3rd time in jail" she said and crossed her arms. 

She felt her body go weak and she dropped her phone to the floor. "He what? N-No.. stop messing around, that's not like Eren" she replied. 

Armin put his hand on her shoulder. "He didn't tell you? (Y/N), this is pretty normal. He always gets involved with the law" he said and looked at her. 

She picked up her phone. "Thanks guys, I'm gonna go.." she said and walked away from them. 

(Y/N) went to the bathroom and began to break down, what the hell was Eren doing with a gun? She never knew Eren had issues with the law, she always assumed he was just a guy who skipped school and had anger issues. Why would he lie to her? What else was he lying about? 

Things on Eren's end weren't better either. He was on bail at the moment, his bail was about $7000. His mom was pissed and so was his dad. Eren fucked up and he knew Porco wasn't going to be happy either, Eren snitched. 

The officer approached the holding cell. "Good news, you just got bailed out" he said and began to unlock the doors. 

Eren stood up and exited the holding cell, he saw his parents standing there. "You all have a good night now" another officer said and nodded. 

The three exited the police station. "Eren what the fuck!? Do you know what the hell you just did?" his mom yelled as he sat in the car. 

Eren rubbed his temples. "Yes mom I'm fully fucking aware!" he replied. 

His dad looked back at him. "We paid $7000 to get you out of here! Why the fuck did you have a gun!? Who the hell gave it to you?" he asked. 

Eren looked around the car. "I can't fucking tell you! Jesus dad, lay off!" he replied. 

His dad scoffed. "You're in deep shit when you get home," he said and turned back to drive. 

The drive home was quiet, Eren got home and went to his room instantly. His phone had multiple messages from Armin, Mikasa, and (Y/N)... shit (Y/N)! What the fuck was he going to do? 

Eren looked at his phone as it pinged again. The message left his anxiety sky-high. 

Porco: YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD MAN.

He rubbed his head and threw his phone. "Fuck.." he said and looked around his room. 

The night was upon him and Eren decided to just leave his house, he couldn't stay here and risk this. He climbed out of the window and began to walk down the street, Eren looked on his phone and put it into his pocket. 

"Eren?" he turned around as he heard the familiar voice of (Y/N). 

Eren stopped in his tracks and walked over to her. "(Y/N).." he said. 

She backed away from him. "I thought you were in jail…" she said and looked down. 

His eyes went wide as he realized the truth had finally come out. "So you know huh?.. (Y/N), know I wasn't lying to you on purpose" he said and tried to reach out to her. 

(Y/N) wiped away a few stray tears. "Eren why the fuck would you lie!?" she asked. 

He looked at her. "(Y/N)... I did it to keep you away from the shit I do" he replied. "I didn't do it for no reason," he added. 

"You're just a punk huh? What a fucking lie, Eren,” she said. 

His anger began to rush through him. "Why the fuck are you crying!? Huh? You don't fucking NEED me (Y/N)! You have a fucking life ahead of you, I don't. I'm bad for YOU, and you fucking know it. You don't have to deal with cops on your ass, or have to worry about if someone is gonna come fucking kill your family. You don't fucking understand! You're just a fucking perfect daddy's girl. You're so fucking NEEDY (Y/N). You don't need someone like me" he yelled. 

She felt tears pour from her eyes. "W-Wait.. Eren, what? What are you talking about?" she asked and furrowed her brows.

"Just stay the fuck away from me! I don't want you! Go live your perfect life, you don't need me. I need to go" Eren said and began to walk off. 

(Y/N) watched as Eren began to run off. "Eren…" she cried as he walked off. 

The feeling of her heart breaking was suffocating her, and Eren felt his tears burning his eyes. She didn't need a guy like Eren, she deserved better. 

[headinthestaticsky]

The Phenomenon of the Immortal Sun: Jasper Hale x Fleur Swan, Chapter 3

None of the characters in Twilight belong to be, all rights go to Stephenie Meyer.

"'Cause I'm lovesick And I ain't even ashamed And I'm hard up, for some time in your sheets Would you be down to spend all your time with me? 'Cause I'm lovesick."

Lovesick by, BANKS.

The reception looked absolutely beautiful It seemed every inch of it was covered in decorations.

"I have to admit, Alice and Rosalie know what they're doing," Jasper said.

"They even made the cake look appetizing to me... not enough for me to stomach to eat it but still," I replied, ever since I had become a vampire, human food made me sick.

"They've done their job then," Jasper said a smile was still etched on his face.

We began to sway to the music, I melted into him.

"Please call me your baby, baby Look how long that you have kept me waiting I'm all in, look at all that I have given Oh, I know your love before I kissed you And now you have only made me miss you Come get me Come love me, baby come love me."

"'Cause I'm lovesick And I ain't even ashamed And I'm hard up, for some time in your sheets Would you be down to spend all your time with me? 'Cause I'm lovesick."

"I just wish Bree could be out here with the rest of us..."

"I wish she could too, but even if she wasn't presumed dead...being around all the humans wouldn't be good for her," Jasper explained comfortingly.

"I know." I pecked Jasper's cheek.

"Please call me your baby baby baby Look how long that you have kept me waiting I'm all in, look at all that I have given Oh, I know your love before I kissed you And now you have only made me miss you Come get me Come love me, baby come love me."

"'Cause I'm lovesick And I ain't even ashamed And I'm hard up, for some time in your sheets Would you be down to spend all your time with me? 'Cause I'm lovesick.'

"Are you going to tell me where we're going or is it going to be a surprise still." I inquired.

"Patience my love, good things come to those who wait." He teased, biting my lip.

I whined

"I don't wanna wait..."

'Cause I'm lovesick And I ain't even ashamed And I'm hard up for some time in your sheets Would you be down to spend all your time with me? 'Cause I'm lovesick

'Cause I'm love sick 'Cause I'm love sick 'Cause I'm love sick 'Cause I'm love sick 'Cause I'm love sick 'Cause I'm love sick

We broke apart from our loving embrace when the song ended. I scanned the crowd searching to see if I could find Leah and Seth again, when I did I dragged Jasper with me eager to see them.

"Hi, I'm so glad you guys made it!" I greeted them and pulling them both in for a hug.

"Good to see you Fleur, you look beautiful." Leah said, Seth nodded in agreement. I saw Billy Black and Sue standing behind them. I walked up to them and hugged them too.

"I hope you'll be happy Fleur...I wish you both the best." Billy said with a somber tone.

"Thank you."

"Well, I don't know about the rest of you but I plan on getting drunk. Sue, could I interest you in a glass of Champaign?" Dad asked.

Before Sue could speak Billy interrupted them.

"Sparkling fire water. Sounds great." Billy said, almost running over dad's ankles." They all walked away.

"How long do you think it'll take for them to get together?" I asked Jasper.

"I give them a month or 2." Jasper estimated. Two unfamiliar voices greeted us both.

"Fleur, Jasper! Congratulations!" A woman greeted.

"Thank you." Jasper replied.

Two gorgeous vampires greeted us, one male and one female.

"Hi, Umm... Eleazar and Carmen, right?" I guessed.

"Mhm, Hola!" Carmen said.

I then saw three blonde women standing behind them, observing us. Jasper saw me looking at them and answered the thought bubbling in my head.

"Those these are our cousins from Alaska. Tanya, Kate, and Irina."

"We've heard so much about you. I'm Tanya." She greeted sticking out her hand for me to shake it.

"Welcome to the family. Bienvenida." Eleazar added.

"Thank you. You're very welcoming." I said.

"Irina, Come meet Fleur." Carmen called out to her.

I could tell something was troubling Irina and I followed to where her gaze was fixated at. She was looking at Seth, anger was in her eyes.

"I can't do this..." She grumbled.

"You promised," Tanya hissed at her.

"She invited one of them."

Jasper looked to where she was gesturing to and sighed.

"Irina, he's one of our friends."

"They killed Laurent!" She rebutted back

"He tried to kill my sister and I." I explained.

"I don't believe that." She said, getting in my face.

"I suggest you back away now... we don't need to cause a scene." I grumbled getting even closer to her face.

She backed away and left, stomping away.

"I'm sorry you guys, thank for coming." I said, a guilty look made it's way onto my face.

"No no don't worry about it..." Carmen comforted.

"Well. Let's not monopolize the bride. Congratulations." Eleazar said. Walking away with Carmen

"Thank you."

"We're sorry." Tanya said, her and Kate walked away as well.

"Well.. what's a wedding without a little family drama huh?" I asked playfully.

"C'mon you let's go, speeches are starting." Jasper said, pulling me in the direction of the chairs.

"Excuse me. Is this on? Hello?" I heard Rosalie whistle at Emmett.

"Umm, I'd like to propose a toast. To my new sister. Fleur, I hope you've gotten enough sleep these last 19 years. 'Cause you won't be getting any more for a while." Emmett laughed and winked at me.

My mouth was slightly agape and I breathed out a laugh. I turned and saw my dad who downed his glass of champagne. My mother just rolled her eyes and repeated what my father had done. I saw Leah stand up and go over to the stage.

"Fleur... I've known you for as long as I could remember. Some of my favorite memories were with you on that beach. And the reaction you would give every time I would shove you into the freezing cold water."

Everyone in the crowd laughed.

"I know I haven't always been the nicest to you, after my father died I completely blew you off.... I know I treated you coldly. But you still were kind and gracious to me and my brother Seth. So thank you... for always being there for me even when I wasn't there for you. Jasper, you better take care of her, you have a whole lot of people who are willing to hunt you down." Leah finished. Jasper gave her a nod and a smile, a silent promise in a way.

My dad stepped up next, I saw tears in his eyes and gave him a comforting smile.

"Jasper will be a good husband. I know this because I'm a cop. I know things. Like how to hunt somebody to the ends of the Earth... I also know how to shoot a gun. But I also know this because he's loyal and empathetic, and a wonderful influence on my daughter. He sniffled before continuing, I love you Fleur... and I'm so happy for you... for both of you."

"Now that you're my sister, you'll have to get over your version to fashion... Yes, you have some style but... the t-shirt and jeans have got to go... and those god-awful ankle boots have got to go too." Alice said.

"Never!" I jokingly yelled.

"Fleur, I remember when Jasper had come home saying he had finally met "the one." I was skeptical, scared even... my first instinct on you was to hate your guts and keep you away from my family. But then I got to know you and I saw how compassionate and understanding you were. I knew you wouldn't hurt my brother, who had been treated horribly for so long and deserved someone with the same amount of compassion as him. Thank you Fleur, welcome to the family. To Jasper and Fleur!" Rosalie finished raising a champagne glass.

"To Jasper and Fleur!" Everyone repeated.

Dinner had gone by smoothly, everyone was too distracted to notice none of the Cullen's and I had eaten or drunk anything. Soon enough after most of the cake was devoured it was time for us to go. I had to run to the bathroom since my contacts were beginning to dissolve in my eyes due to the venom. When I got back out I saw Alice and Rosalie putting Jasper and I's bags into my car. Before I could make it to my car dad approched me.

"Well... It's gonna be strange, you not living under my roof." He started.

"Yeah. It's gonna be strange for me, too." I replied.

"You know it will always be your home, right?"

I know dad, I love you. Forever. I pulled him in for a hug.

"I love you, too, Petal. I always have and I always will. All right. Go on. You don't wanna miss your plane. Wherever it's going."

"I won't dad... I should probably say bye to mom and Bella too..."

"Good luck Petal," Dad said, humor was in his voice. I sighed and walked my way over to them, they were embracing and saying goodbye to one another, since Bella was going on her honeymoon too.

"Oh, Bella... I will miss you so much, I love you." Renee said tearfully.

"I love you too mom, I will miss you too," Bella replied. They both stopped talking to one another when I approached them. Their faces dropped, it seemed I dampened the mood.

"Well, I'll see you later mom, Bella, have a good one." I said.

"Yes, I'll see you in nine months... I mean... later." Renee said condescendingly.

"Mother, even if I was pregnant I wouldn't let you near my child. They don't need your spews of toxicity around them." I spat out before walking away.

I hugged all of the Cullens before walking up to the car, I was about to get into the driver's seat when I threw the keys at Jasper. His face was in shock.

"Only because we got married, cowboy, it's a present from me to you."

"Thanks, Darlin." He smiled at me.

We began to drive off, I waved at the people in the crowd and smiled at them.

"Ready to go?" Jasper asked.

"Yeah...I'm ready."

[nimmy22]

A Mistake: Chapter 13

Wesker heard Jill speaking through his hidden earpiece before he reached the barn. "Multiple armed hostiles spotted. Looks like a drug deal gone wrong. They are fighting amongst themselves, one shot fired but no casualties and no hostages yet. Chris, Barry, and I are getting the drop on them while they're distracted. Brad and Joseph are looking for their getaway vehicles. Over." Jill spoke quickly, her voice slightly muffled by the shouting of the other panicked party guests.

"Roger that," Wesker replied coolly through his walkie-talkie. Good, everyone was following protocol for situations like this. Looking at his watch, it was 2:35 AM. They should be done here before the sun was up, possibly each in their respective homes before then. He won't tolerate failure, especially if it means a delay in taking his present home with him. they needed to have a little chat about limits and boundaries.

Cara was too daring tonight, especially towards some boy she hardly knew. A boy who was her age, someone any girl would be proud to introduce to the parents.

Stroking the outline of his concealed gun, he had watched their dance from his place in the dark. He fought hard the impulse to kill, his nails biting into his palms like wasps. He gritted his teeth, knowing he wasn't the one to get to dance with her. That filthy boy was desecrating a temple. He'll make sure to teach her a classier way to dance, having witnessed such atrocious moves. Teenagers were unsophisticated at times.

Why did it have to be her? Why couldn't he have some affair with some umbrella bombshell? Things would've certainly been a lot simpler, with much less loss of sleep. Her face always filled his mind each and every night, haunting him endlessly.

Cara should've died many attempts ago, yet here she was, laughing and dancing with some other guy, pulling him in for a kiss. Wesker's lips curled into a cruel smile seeing the girl who often leaves him sleepless, choosing to return his efforts and protection with the worst kind of betrayal. He had been burned tonight, but now he will burn everyone.

Amongst the people barreling out the barn, Wesker spotted the boy who dared touch what didn't belong to him. He was helpless, shoved around in the stampede of a crowd with no real strength to push back. Wesker moved in his direction, purposefully driving his shoulder into the fleeing boy.

The contact lasted a second before the boy ran for his car. With a smirk, Wesker pocketed the wallet after looking over the name of the owner. James Hunter. Address: 243 charlotte road. In due time, the boy will reap what he sowed.

He spotted Joseph and Brad bugging a van among the parked cars outside, giving them a nod. As he stepped into the barn, he spotted Jill taking out her taser. There were two men on the ground, tackled by Chris and Barry and in the process of being cuffed.

A third man was on his knees, his body jerking as Jill delivered a shot of electricity through a taser. "You brought the fucking cops here? I knew you were an informant!" he shouted at the cuffed men between violent spasms. He was no older than twenty with a black duffel back hugged close to his body. He kept trying to reach for the gun he must've dropped, but Jill zapped him again. He was persistent and continued to reach for his weapon, spittle flying out of his mouth as his body spasmed.

Kicking the gun out of his reach, Wesker delivered a sharp kick to the man's stomach, watching him fold over. Planting a knee into his back, he twisted his arm, earning a pained groan. The movement was automatic as he began the arrest process, stating his rights in a monotonous voice. Jill moved to retrieve the black duffel bag, unzipping it to reveal the wrapped bundles of white powder. No doubt cocaine.

"That's a hefty block of sugar," Jill joked, juggling three bundles with surprising skill. But Wesker still lost interest after two seconds.

Everything was going smoothly until a fourth man stepped into the barn. In his grip was a hostage dragged by her hair.

Seeing who was being dragged had Chris lose his calm and run towards the man, aiming his gun. "Let her go, you fucker!" Chris roared, breathing erratically with teeth curled over his teeth. Every fiber in his been stood tense and ready.

"Throw away your guns first," the man warned, digging the muzzle of his gun against the struggling girl's head, ending her resistance.

"Stand down, Chris," Wesker ordered and sighed when Chris didn't comply. Instead, he offered more death threats.

"Chris, you know how we handle hostage situations! Do you want me to write you up for insubordination?" Wesker hissed, growing impatient with the show of open defiance. A dead hostage will create a headache with the Chief in toe.

"He's got his hands on my fucking sister!" Chris's hands gripped the gun tightly, shaking his head furiously.

"I am well aware," Wesker regarded the tearful girl, held so tightly by the neck her toes barely touched the ground. With every threat and step Chris took towards them, the man held Claire even tighter, using her as a human shield.

Wesker walked up to Chris before taking hold of the gun. After staring down his Captain for what felt like an eternity, Chris begrudgingly let go of the gun. Wesker threw it at the hostage-taker's feet along with his own. Jill followed suit.

"State your demands," Wesker addressed the hostage-taker coolly. His interest was more on maintaining the reputation of STARS than on saving the female version of Chris. Any headache was a good one to avoid.

"First, take off the fucking sunglasses hotshot. Second, give me that bag." The man demanded, pointing his chin to the bag next to Jill.

With a raised eyebrow and a bemused smile, Wesker took off his shades before pocketed them. His icy blues pierced the man, watching him take a sharp breath, a slight tremble to his hands.

"You need to let her go first, and then the drugs are all yours. No one will go after you. Our priority is the safety of all civilians and law enforcement officers. Let's all get home safely." Wesker stared directly into the hostage-taker's eyes, his posture relaxed, speaking as if conversing with a friend.

"Do you think I'm stupid? I ain't falling for that shit again. Bag first."

As Wesker turned around to go grab the bag, he whispered into his walkie-talkie. " Joseph and Brad, be ready for an armed hostile at the south exit. Over." with an affirmative answer from both officers through his earpiece, he picked up the bag. He proceeded to walk closer to the hostage-taker, his free hand up in the air.

"Stop, don't come any closer. just throw it over."

"As you wish," complying, Wesker threw the bag, watching as it slid across the floor to stop near the man.

The man kept eyeing the exit furthest from them before bending to pick up the duffel with jerky movements. Sweat pooled on his forehead as he pondered his next move. Slowly he inched backward, his eyes not leaving the three officers. He should've known how rotten the deal would go. His hands were so clammy the gun kept slipping. He swallowed as a pillar of hay blocked them from view, and he was quickening his steps to the exit.

"Move it!" he hissed, dragging Claire to her feet as she stumbled.

"Let me go, you fucker!" Claire wailed, fighting against him.

"Shut up, you little bitch. You're my ticket out of here. Stop struggling, and don't think I won't blow your brains out."

As they made it just outside the door, another gang member appeared. "Casper, that you man?" he called out and suffered a kick to the chin.

"No names, you little shit!" the hostage-taker hissed, spittle flying into his partner's face.

"Sorry man-"

"Any more of our people left?"

"Well, there was them, but they're caught up with the cops over there," he pointed to an area where two gang members wrestled with Brad and Joseph.

"Let's go, start the van. We're getting the fuck out of here. I have the drugs. We'll sell em' in another town." they ran to the van, dragging Claire with them. Opening the back of the van, they were about to shove her inside until a voice shouted.

"Wait! Please don't take her!" Cara cried, stepping out from behind a car right next to their van. She had been watching them drag her best friend out of the barn.

"Cara, no! what the hell are you doing?" Claire hissed, forming wild motions with her hand for her friend to get the hell away. This was the stupidest thing she had ever seen.

Without an ounce of thought, she shouted. "Take me instead!"

"Your pretty dumb shit. but it's not like I want to watch two hostages while the cops come after us," the man holding Claire spat. "You go, and you get in the van now!" he shoved Claire to the ground before grabbing Cara by the collar and shoving her inside. Slamming the doors shut, he and his partner were quick to get behind the wheel, ignoring Claire as she banged on the doors.

Before Claire could chase the van, she was grabbed from behind. "Let go!" she shoved frantically, watching the van get further and further away down the dirt road through the cornfield.

"Mrs. Redfield, you're already in enough trouble as it is. don't add to the list." Wesker pulled her by the arm, confused as to why she would ever chase the car of the people who held her at gunpoint moments ago.

"You don't understand they have-" Claire grabbed the front of his jacket, looking at him pleadingly.

"Enough Claire!" Chris hissed, detaching her arms from his Captain and dragging her off to the side. Opening the door to his undercover car, he shoved Claire inside. He was about to slam the door, but she stuck her arm out.

"Chris, please, you have to listen to me. they have-"

"I'll listen once your ready to tell me why you're out in the middle of nowhere and drinking underage. what part of 'be careful' did you not understand?"

Straightening out his jacket as if nothing happened, Wesker placed his shades back in their rightful place. He watched Joseph and Barry get into a car before giving chase as Brad herded the arrestees into an undercover cruiser. It was a tight fit with three bulky men sharing the backseat. He will interrogate them tomorrow, finally shoving the leads down Iron's throat so he would shut up.

Walking over to the STARS undercover van, he looked over their communication devices and smirked as the tracker on the culprits' van signaled their exact GPS coordinates. Umbrella was generous with the tech donations to the police department, making the job all that much easier.

Picking up a radio, he connected to the team's frequency. "Hostage is secured. Jill and I will set up a blockade based on their GPS coordinates. If they push you, push harder. I don't care if you flip them over. Make sure they don't get away. Over."

He walked towards Chris and frowned; his mouth set in a grim line. "Seeing as you are currently busy, I think you should go home, Chris." With a glance at the feuding siblings, Wesker knew he couldn't use Chris tonight.

"What? You're not leaving me behind. They had their hands on my sister. How the hell am I supposed to let someone else catch them? it should be me." Chris exhaled through his teeth, glaring at his Captain.

"Are you sure you'll simply put them in cuffs? Right now, you're biased. Your emotions are not in the right place. Go home and help your sister get sobered up. you can't afford mistakes that will ruin your career or her getting charged with underage drinking."

"Is that a threat?" Chris blinked, speaking dangerously slowly, glancing between his captain and sister.

"It's a warning. Now go. you've done enough tonight."

Getting into the van with Jill, Wesker saw Chris punch a lamp post and smirked. His smile was gone as he thought about how he will have to discipline Chris all over again.

Remembering what he left behind in the junkyard, he paged one umbrella's bribed cops to go and fetch her. Cara will be furious, but she will be safe. She will get over it, having been through much worse. And then they will be home in no time at all.

With Jill in the driver seat, they drove off with Wesker looking over the communications equipment, directing Barry and Joseph after the signal. It was amusing watching the dealers rest their car, thinking they lost the cops before being chased again. They were too stupid to abandon the vehicle with a tracker on it. He thought out possible blockade locations at predicted intersections where the dealers may go.

Getting to their destination, Wesker and Jill worked quickly to set up the blockade, laying out the tire spikes. Traffic was minimal, but they still left the police siren up. Frowning, Wesker rejected another call made by Chris. To prevent further distraction for the rest of the team, he made everyone change radio frequencies. The scolded STARS member has been calling nonstop through all forms of communication. Wesker ordered the rest of the team to disregard him. Whatever silly grudge the boy had would have to wait until they handed the suspects into the RPD, where they'd be bragging trophies for the Chief.

With their guns out, Wesker and Jill used both van doors like a shield as they stood ready for the lights fast approaching at an illegal speed. A familiar vehicle flanked the white van, leaving more and more impressions against the exterior as they smashed into each other over and over. Barry was enjoying himself tonight.

"Captain! There is another hostage!" Chris shouted through the radio. He must have figured out their new frequency change.

"What? Enough of this, Chris. You are off the mission. What you're doing now is interference with official police business, and you know the consequences. last chance, Chris." Fed up, Wesker slammed the radio on the dashboard, gripping his gun tighter. As the van came closer, he fired several shots at the tires, and the van began swerving on wobbly tires.

"What's up with Chris?" Jill glanced over at her boss, seeing the overly familiar scene of Chris and Wesker clashing. She, too, fired a couple of rounds.

"He claims there is another hostage," Jill grew stiff, her eyes growing wide. She was quick to lower her gun.

"On no, I thought his sister was the only hostage. then what the hell are we doing!"

"Likely, he just wants back in on the mission and is being childish," his voice was as sharp as his next shots into the engine.

"Are you sure Captain? Chris may be thick-headed, but he wouldn't lie. especially about something like this."

Wesker opened his mouth, but no words came out. No, he wasn't sure without a doubt. Something felt off to him. Like the feeling he had in the parking lot of the Hospital. Later that same day, he ends up finding Cara almost being used for an experiment.

His pager went off, and he quickly read the message with a sinking feeling. 'Nobody at the junkyard, Captain. Just a pack of stray dogs.' What were the chances of Cara being the hostage? She was a magnet for trouble everywhere she went. So, there was a very high chance.

Wesker lowered his gun, but the damage was already done.

The van swerved before flipping over three times, sending metal debris all over the road. Before the van stopped sliding, Wesker was already sprinting as fast as he could to the wreck. Through the blood rushing through his ears, he barely heard Jill call for an ambulance.

Disregarding the injured men crying for help in the front, Wesker dug through the wreck. The back of the van was crumpled, sealing the doors, and he kicked it in frustration as they refused to budge.

As Jill ran to the STARS van to grab a saw, Barry, Joseph, and Brad watched their captain behave as they'd never seen before. They helped the hostage-takers not so gently exit the heap of metal as they all gawked at their Captain. Returning with the saw, Jill received a death stare as soon as she tried to push her captain out of the way.

Seeing how his behavior has caught the attention of everyone, Wesker begrudgingly had to detach himself from the scene and collect himself. Only he lost it all again as they dragged her body out.

[crashdevlin]

Jump The Shark

Author’s Note: This is part nineteen of The Best Laid Plans series

Summary: When John gets a call from the youngest son he never got to meet, Y/n goes with him to find out what happened to the one-night stand John had back in 1990.

Pairing: Alpha!John x Omega!Reader

Word count: 3597

Story Warnings: angst...A/B/O dynamics, canon divergence, angst, mentions of physical violence, mentions of mindfuckery, mentions of ferality, pining, did I mention angst?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You hadn't said anything. Not from the moment you and John found the truck. You climbed up into the cab and changed into jeans, a black and green plaid flannel and a pair of hiking boots. You dropped your suit skirt and blouse out the window going 80 down the interstate, and then you closed your eyes and listened to the Rolling Stones.

You had to open your eyes when your memories started attacking you.

Dean had been so sure that you were the one he wanted, the one he was looking for...but that was Dean Smith and Y/n Colt. That was a Stanford MBA and a former Miss Teen USA runner-up. The idea that he wanted to mark you was particularly hurtful and you were kinda glad you made him wait because you weren't sure if it would have reset like the first mark Sam gave you and the last thing you wanted was for Dean to be tethered to you when he could barely stand to be around you.

He only wanted you because he was someone else. He was someone else, but his soul was still stuck on you. You both felt that pull because you were connected but he didn't want you. Smith liked Colt, but Winchester would never love Y/l/n.

John just drove. It was obvious he had no destination in mind, he just pointed the truck West and drove. Part of you wished that he would go back to Mississippi but you knew that your semi-normal was gone...and it was better. You were a hunter and so were your alphas. No normal for you.

"It hit her hard, Sammy," you heard John whispering as he drove when you woke up a few hours into Missouri. "She hasn’t been that close with your brother in years and the fact that it was all fake is killing her."

A pang of sadness hit you as your brain called forth what John was talking about. The haze of sleep had taken the memory, but now it was clear why your heart felt like so many broken pieces shoved into a box in your chest.

"Yeah, we know that but he won't say it and she probably wouldn't be able to hear it now anyway." John sighed as Sam spoke through the phone. "Son, I don't know what we can do other than what we always do. If you need help, just call, but she definitely doesn't need to be around your brother for a while. All right. Keep me updated," John said before setting his phone on the dashboard. "I know you’re awake, 'mega. Can't fool me."

"Wasn't trying to fool you. Just letting you finish your conversation," you responded, sitting up and stretching as best as you could in the truck cab. "What'd Sam want?"

"Tell me that the whole deal in Cincinnati was the Angels fucking with us. Specifically fucking with Dean. They wanted to prove to him that he was always supposed to be a Hunter or something."

"And we just got pulled along for the ride? That was nice of them." You rolled your eyes and reached down for your purse, pulling out a travel mouthwash. "So, what, everything's dandy now?" you asked as you took a drink of the mint liquid, swished it around in your mouth and swallowed.

"You know, you're supposed to spit that out, right?"

"Only quitters spit," you said automatically. You ran your hand across your face as you dropped the bottle to the floorboard. Dirty jokes Dean told you as a teen were not what you needed to get out of your funk. “I’ve put worse things in my body.”

“Girl, we...we’ll get through this.”

“Not like we have a lot of options, right?” You licked your lips and shook your head. “I’m fine, John. I slept. I’m better. I’m fine.”

“When are you gonna learn that it’s useless to lie to me?” John asked.

“I’m sure it’ll sink in eventually,” you responded, chuckling. “I promise...I’m going to be fine.”

“I know you will,” John said, reaching over to pat your knee.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few weeks passed and you were getting better at putting it behind you. The might’ve-beens dragged up by the Angels in Cincinnati were slowly being pushed back into the recesses of your mind and you were feeling better. Sam emailed John to tell him about some jerk in Ohio writing books about the boys’ lives, someone Castiel revealed to be a Prophet of the Lord who was writing The Winchester Gospels. There were books about the boys’ lives, their actions, their innermost thoughts, just hanging out on bookshelves around the world. You wondered if you were in any of the stories, the gospels.

John’s secondary cell phone went off as you pulled the truck into the parking lot of a coffee shop and he frowned as he looked down at the screen before he answered, “Hello?” A beat of time as you parked the truck and turned to him. “He’s not available. Can I help you?” He had a severe look on his face and you shook your head at him, confused by his reaction to the call. “What’d you say your name was? Milligan...and, uh, what are you callin’ John for?”

He made a fist and hammered it into his forehead. “Right, well, uh, I hate to have to tell you this over the phone but John is dead. He died in 2001.” Your eyes went wide and John put a finger up to quiet you before you could even start to question. “If you need help, then I can meet with you, kid. I’m, uh, John Winchester’s son, Dean. Windom, Minnesota. Cousin Oliver Café. We’ll be there tomorrow at 8am. See ya then, kid.”

“What the fuck, John?!” you exclaimed when he ended the call.

“Fuck.” He scratches his fingernails across his forehead and sighs as he sets the phone on the dash. “I recognized the area code, knew it was Missouri, thought it might have something to do with...with this case I had around January 1990. Anybody I interacted with back then, they would’ve known me before I got hit with that hex. So, that’s why I answered the phone like that and I’m glad I did because...because the kid on the other end of the phone is…” He trailed off and you gave him a pointed look.

“The kid on the other end of the phone is what?”

“My youngest son, Adam.”

Your eyes went wide, confusion and anger filling your body. “Your what?”

“I told you...I told you that I had one dalliance before you after Mary died, remember? When I was on that ghoul hunt and I went into rut and I-I was almost feral and I had one night where I couldn’t fuckin’ control myself and-”

“You knocked her up with pups?” you whispered. For some reason, it hurt a lot more than it should, especially considering you were only seven years old at the time.

“Only one. Adam.” He shook his head at himself. “She never told me. I didn’t know anything about it until 2001...and by then…by the time Adam called the first time, I was a young man again. I couldn’t show up looking like a twenty-five year old and start a relationship with the boy. So I just never called him back, kinda put him on the back burner. I figured I’d go see him when we found the witch and fixed me but I never found the witch and-”

“So, why’s he calling again now?” you asked, trying to be understanding. It wasn’t John’s fault. He should have told you. He should have told his other sons, but he couldn’t do anything about it now.

“His mom, Kate, is missing.”

“And he called you because?” you asked.

“Because the cops aren’t worried and his mom told him to try to get a hold of me if anything weird ever happened. She knew about the hunting.”

“So, your plan is to...pretend to be your oldest son and go meet your youngest son for the first time and try to find his missing mother...who most probably is just normal-missing, not supernatural-missing?” you asked, cautious of your tone.

“I can drop you somewhere if you don’t wanna participate in this, girl,” he said, biting his bottom lip.

“No,” you responded vehemently. “You don’t get to leave me behind, Winchester. Not ever again, remember?”

“Okay, then I’m gonna need you to back me on this and you’re going to have to call me ‘Dean’.”

You nodded. “I can do that.” You weren’t sure you wanted to, but you’d do it for him.

“Thank you, darlin’.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

John was nervous. You could smell it in his scent. You leaned into his shoulder as you sat in the booth, trying to calm him with your own scent. You kept your head on his shoulder as he switched a glass of water out with a glass of holy water and set a trio of silverware on the opposite side of the table. “Just in case.”

“You really think-”

“I looked into him, ya know? Kid did real good without me in his life,” John said suddenly. “He’s real and he’s smart and he never had anything to do with this life. I’m scared it bled onto him anyway.”

You sighed and leaned up to press a kiss to his temple as the door opened and a tall, thin young man walked into the diner. He looked like a mix of Sam and Dean. “That’s him,” you whispered, recognizing him from the Facebook profile.

John, or rather ‘Dean’, stood and waved at the boy.

“Dean?” Adam asked, walking over. John nodded. The boy laughed. “Wow, you look just like the picture my mom had of-of John. You’re almost the spitting image of him.” He let out a scoff as he sat down, his eyes moving to you. “Who’s this?”

“My omega,” John said, a bit defensively.

“Y/n,” you said, offering your hand to him.

Adam took it with a smile. “Wow.”

You felt a cringe move through your body and you looked down. “What?”

“I just…” Adam cleared his throat. “There’s not a lot of omegas in Windom and none are as pretty as you.”

Another Winchester flirting with you was sending all sorts of bad signals through your body. You softly tugged your hand back and sat back down as Adam settled into the opposite side of the booth and picked up the water. You held your breath when he took a drink but the water went down easy so you relaxed a bit.

But not much.

He smelled wrong. John was lavender and orange and ylang ylang, Dean was lavender and honeysuckle and anise, Sam was vanilla and coffee and undercurrents of honeysuckle when he was in rut. Adam smelled like dirt.

Not grass and forest and mossy logs, dirt. Just dirt. He didn’t even have a secondary scent to him, no undercurrent or complementary smell. Just dirt.

There should have been some part of him that smelled like a Winchester, even if he wasn’t the same makeup of a Winchester as the ones you knew. He shouldn’t smell like that.

Adam didn’t seem to notice your musing or your deep breaths to try and find something else in his scent. He went off on a tangent as he ate his breakfast about how John and Kate met in the emergency room at the hospital room where she works and he went into rut after he got hurt and Adam tried to get a hold of John when he was a kid and John just never picked up the phone and he’s glad that ‘Dean’ answered the phone this time.

“At least I know why he didn’t answer when I was calling before. So, uh, what happened to John?”

“Heart attack,” John responded. “It was sudden.”

“Right, guess that makes sense. Heart disease is the number one killer of men his age in the US,” Adam said.

Your eyes focused on the silverware in the man’s fists. Not a shifter either then. But this was something. This was not a Winchester.

“Well, after we get done eating, why don’t you take us to the house and we’ll see if we can’t find something to tell us where your mom got to,” John offered.

“Thanks, Dean,” Adam said with a smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"He didn't react to silver or holy water," John argued as he followed Adam's car down the road.

"So? There's plenty of things that can alter people's perception of them that don't react to silver or holy water! Rakshasas, sirens, djinns, ghouls, do I need to go on?" you argued back. "He smells like dirt, John. That is not-"

"Maybe that's just-"

"What'd his mother smell like?" you interrupted.

"Passion fruit...and something else I can't remember."

"Not dirt. He shouldn't smell like that. He's not your son."

John sighed and scratched at his chin. "You might be right. He should smell more like one of us. He doesn't even smell like an alpha, honestly, but...if he's not Adam, then where the hell is Adam? And where's Kate? And why the fuck would whatever he is try to get me out here?"

"I don't know."

"Me either. For now, let's focus on finding Kate and we'll go from there." You held in a groan and focused out the windshield. "I know, 'mega. I'm just...I got this feeling...I lost my opportunity to be a part of this boy's life because of that witch."

"And that’s terrible, John...but you wouldn't have me if it wasn't for that witch so…"

“I’m not sayin’ I regret it, sweetheart, I just...wish I could have...met him once before I went after that bitch.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, biting your thumbnail. “Sometimes I wish things were different, too.”

“You wish I never came over when you were going into that first heat,” he guessed.

You swallowed, but you didn’t answer. The truth was, you had thought through a lot of different wishes and butterfly-effect ripples of how it would change everything. If John didn’t show up, you wouldn’t be a hunter. If Dean hadn’t pushed you to let Sam take you when those apple-pie assholes put you in heat, you would have just been Dean’s. If you never sold your soul for Dean, you might have been able to move on, find another alpha...a non-Winchester.

“I don't think I'd be myself if you hadn't shown up,” you answered eventually. “I'd have stayed stuck at Bobby's, never ended up with an alpha let alone two, and I would be dying from never getting a knot in a few years' time...it’s better you did.”

"I'm...glad I did, Y/n. I like the woman you are, the strong and beautiful omega you are.”

You smiled and your cheeks heated up at the praise. “Let’s just get this done, huh?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You weren’t exactly happy that you were the one who had to crawl through the vents but Adam said, and John fucking agreed, that you were smallest and therefor the best choice. When you found the blood and pieces of skull and blond hair, you were happy to be small enough to pull your phone out of your pocket and text the news to John so he could break the news before you crawled back out.

“Call the cops. We gotta get out of here, though,” John said as he offered you a hand to help you up out of the vent.

“Wait, but-” Adam started to argue.

“We don’t mix with cops,” you responded, before stomping away from them, roughly brushing dust off of your jeans and shirt. “Come on, J-Dean. Let’s get out of here.”

“You don’t mix with-” Adam started to argue, but you pushed past him and stomped out to John’s truck.

“There was no surprise in his scent. There was no anger or sadness. I’ve lost both parents, John, there should have been-”

“Maybe he’s numb or-”

“Maybe he’s made of dirt or something!” you snapped. “That is not-”

“He hasn’t done anything wrong yet, ‘mega.”

You shook your head. “Yeah. Yet. You know what, John? I’m gonna go ahead and look into things that could be pretending to be your illegitimate pup.”

You barely looked at him as you got out of the truck and headed inside to start researching. When Adam showed up to find out what was going on with his missing mother and you and ‘Dean’ leaving before the cops showed up and “what the hell?!” John decided to explain about hunting as simply as he could. He didn’t explain who he really was, though. And then John decided to take Adam to explore other options of finding Kate.

It was a couple hours later that you came across a mention in an online lore forum that said ghouls, while normally scavengers who feast on dead flesh, could actually eat living specimens and have been shown to greatly enjoy fresh human meat and blood...and just like feasting on the dead, the ghoul can take the visage of their victim and their memories.

“Didn’t John say that’s what he was after when he was here before?” you whispered to yourself as you picked up your cell phone and dialed John’s number. It rang through until it went to voicemail. You called again. It went to voicemail again.

Panic fell over you. Your alpha was in trouble. Your alpha was in trouble and you had no idea where he was.

“Fuck!” You were almost shaking as you stood up and looked around aimlessly. What could you do? Another string of expletives fell from your mouth before you forced yourself to focus. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. Your soul was connected to him. You needed to find him.

It only took a flash. A flash of the dining room at Kate’s house, John tied to the table had you grabbing the keys to John’s truck and rushing for your alpha. You pushed that truck as fast as it would go to get it to the house on the outskirts of Windom. The truck tires screeched as you slid to a stop in the front yard. You grabbed your shotgun from the rack in the truck bed and ran into the house.

John was tied to the table, ‘Adam’ and ‘Kate’ standing over him as he bled from his wrists. “Y/n,” he groaned. “They’re ghouls!”

“I know!” you snapped, aiming at Adam’s head and shooting. Parts of his head exploded onto the wall behind him and Kate shrieked before running at you. You moved to pump the shotgun for a second shot, but Kate grabbed you and tossed you into the wall like you were nothing.

“Y/n!”

“I’m fine, John!” you shouted, rolling onto your hands and knees.

“John?” Kate spat out, her tone dripping with poison.

“Forgot to mention before you started draining me,” John groaned. “I’m the one who killed your daddy, sweetheart.”

“Witches are better than plastic surgery, bitch,” you said, sweeping the woman’s leg with your foot. She fell to the floor and you jumped up, grabbing the shotgun and shooting her in the head, too. You licked your lips and panted as you limped over to the table and pulled out a knife, getting him loose from his binds. “You okay?” you asked, grabbing a rag and ripping it in half, wrapping each half around his wounds.

“Yeah. You...you got here in time.” He sat up, his legs hanging off the table as you secured the wraps around his wrists. “How’d you know?”

“I figured out ghouls could eat fresh and then I couldn’t get you on the phone and...I…” You licked your lips. “I knew where to find you.”

“How?” he pressed.

“How’d you know what motel room I was cutting Sam’s mark off of me?” you asked in answer.

“You felt it?” he asked and you nodded. He reached out, barely wincing at the pull on his wrist, and pulled you in for a soft, sad kiss. “They were siblings, kids of the ghoul I took down last time I was in Windom. They called to get revenge for me killing their dad.” He looked away. “Killed Kate and Adam to get revenge first. I was hoping I wasn’t right about my life bleeding on his.”

“It’s not your fault, John,” you whispered.

He shook his head. “I know. Shoulda stuck around to see if the thing left behind little monsters for me to kill, but...I went into rut...and then I had to get back to the boys.”

“John...it’s really not on you.”

“He’s dead because of me.”

“He was alive because of you,” you insisted. “He had nineteen years before these things...he had nineteen years because of you. Please, don’t let this get to you.” You chuckled, ruefully. “I’m the one that’s supposed to be barely floating in an ocean of shit. You’re supposed to be my life raft.”

He smiled and nodded. “I am. I am your life raft, darlin’. Just...a little blood-deprived right now. I’ll perk up after a glass of O.J. and some protein. Come on. Let’s get outta here.”

You nodded and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, helping him off of the table and walking him out to the truck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[kinglazrus]

Until Death Do We Part

Truce gift for @anthropwashere! Sorry I'm late, but I hope the wait was worth it!

Summary: For someone who fights ghosts, literal dead people, on a near-daily basis, you would think Danny could handle death better than this. He faces mortality every day, every time he goes ghost. So why can't he face this? Why is this any different than any other day? Because it was his Valerie, and he saw it, and he couldn't stop it. Because it was his fault.

(links to ffn and ao3 on my bio)

Warnings: gore and blood, panic attacks, murder

Word count: 24011

By the time the ambulance arrives, Valerie is already dead. The fight is over, Spectra and Bertrand long gone, and Danny—in human form—cradles her head in his lap. He doesn't know who called the ambulance, or when. Everything after Valerie's fall is a blur. He remembers a scream, his own most likely, and Spectra's victorious cackle, but not her retreat. The citizens had fled at some point near the start of the battle. How long was he holding her before someone returned, saw what happened?

After years of dealing with ghosts, the people of Amity Park had formed a simple routine. Run from the fight, don't get in the way or put yourself in danger, wait for the noises to end, wait a few minutes more, then trickle out of hiding once you know it's safe. The entire city knows the choreography by heart, follows every step with military precision. It's one of the main reasons no one has died during a ghost attack before. At least, until now.

The ambulance's wailing sirens cut out abruptly. Danny barely registers their absence, focused entirely on Valerie's face. If he lets himself get distracted, he might be tempted to look lower, at the wound that took her life a gaping mess of blood and shredded organs in the middle of her chest, covered by his jacket. Don't look at it. Don't think about it. Keep your eyes up.

People talk about peace in death, but he only sees agony on her face. Blood smears her lips, fills her mouth. Her wide eyes stare up at him, dull and empty. Shaking, Danny passes a hand over her eyes, trying to close them. As soon as he removes his hand, her eyelids slide back open. He tries again. They still don't close.

One of the paramedics comes up to him and puts a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, kid. It's not... it's not like the movies. That's not how it works." The paramedic glances back at her partner, a helpless look passing between them.

"I called dispatch," her partner says, speaking softly, but still loud enough for Danny to hear. "Coroner's on the way."

She nods, then turns her attention back on Danny. "I'm sorry but you need to let her go."

Danny squeezes his eyes shut and sobs. Oh, god. Oh, god. He doesn't know what to do. He can't let her go, can't leave her, but she won't stop looking at him with those dead, accusing eyes. Another sob tears through him, and another, each cry ripping him to smaller and smaller pieces. He presses a hand to his mouth, clamping down hard as if he can force the sobs back down his throat if he pushes hard enough.

Belatedly, he notices the taste of copper on his tongue. Danny scrambles away from Valerie, her head dropping with a thump that makes the paramedics wince, and barely makes it two feet before his stomach heaves and he pukes in the street. A hand rubs his back; a soft voice whispers empty reassurances. When Danny finishes puking, wiping his mouth on his sleeve and gasping for breath, he leans back on his heels and looks up at a paramedic. Blinking through his tears, Danny catches her nameplate, C. Vaughan.

"Hey, you're okay," she says.

Danny stares at her incredulously. Okay? How is any of this okay? Valerie is dead. His mind is still reeling. Despite seeing it happen, some part of him can't believe it's real. Someone died during a ghost attack. Not just someone, but Valerie. And she wasn't killed by any old ghost, either. Nothing is okay, and it never will be again.

Because Danny Phantom killed Valerie Gray.

—

It takes nearly twenty minutes for the coroner to arrive. That whole time, Danny refuses to move or even talk. He doesn't approach Valerie's body again, but he can't walk away either. A handful of cops—he's not sure when they arrived—have set up a perimeter around the scene, keeping curious onlookers back. Looking over the line of people crowding against the police tape, disgust swells in Danny's gut. They're treating it like a show, pointing and whispering. Danny, grinding his teeth, glares at them, wanting nothing more than to blast them down the street.

In the throng, he catches a glimpse of Lance Thunder's perfectly coiffed hair.

The scrape of boots on asphalt pulls his gaze from the reporter, and he looks to his right. Vaughan approaches him, a water bottle and a cloth in her hand. She offers both to him. "You should get yourself cleaned up."

Danny stares at the offering blankly.

"Unless you want me to do it for you?"

At eighteen years old, Danny's entire face goes red at the thought of someone cleaning him like that. He snatches the items from Vaughan's hands, soaks the cloth in water, and scrubs at his cheeks. By now, the blood has long since dried, dark red streaks stretching across his cheeks. He remembers how warm it felt when it first splattered across his face.

Danny flinches, hands freezing. It takes him a moment to compose himself, shoving the sensation to the back of his mind, before he finishes scrubbing.

"Careful, or else you'll start peeling for skin off." Vaughan laughs weakly at her joke.

Danny doesn't even crack a smile. His face still feels dirty, but the cloth is more pink than white now, and it doesn't seem to be getting any darker, so he must have gotten all of it. Unsure of what to do with them, he offers the cloth and bottle back to Vaughan.

She takes them, then sits on the curb beside him. Her presence is neither comforting nor annoying, she's just there, a warm body next to him, soaking in his misery.

"It's never easy, finding a body," she says.

Danny holds back a snort. Right. Finding. As if he didn't watch it happen. As if it wasn’t all his fault.

"You're the Fenton boy, right?"

"One and only, last I checked."

"Marty called your parents." She nods toward the ambulance. For a second, Danny thinks she means her partner, the other paramedic, and he's confused about why they would call his parents. But then he realizes she's motioning to the cop standing beside her partner. Every few seconds, Marty the Cop glances his way. "I told him to back off for a bit, but he's gonna ask you a few questions about what happened before you can go."

Danny frowns. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you just found a dead body, and that's a horrible experience to go through, but it also means a bunch of strangers are going to ask you questions about what happened, and I think you should know what's happening before you get into it."

"I didn't find her."

Vaughan raises an eyebrow. "But dispatch said–"

"I was there. I was with her. We were friends."

Vaughan goes silent. She closes her eyes and breathes deeply, letting it out slowly. "Oh," she says, packing so much emotion into one soft syllable. Pity, distress, world-weary exhaustion. A hint of anger. Hearing it makes Danny flinch, leaves him winded as if she punched him. Just another ache on top of all his growing bruises. He gets the feeling he's not the first kid she's had to deal with who watched someone die, and he probably won't be the last.

"Yeah," he says.

"Was that your jacket on her?"

Danny nods.

"That was a good thing you did. I can't imagine what's going through your head right now, but I think she would have been happy to have someone with her at the end."

Bracing his elbows on his knees, Danny clutches his head. Vaughan's trying to comfort him, but he finds no solace in her words. She has no idea what she's talking about. The look in Valerie's eyes at the end, seething even as the light drained out of them. His presence brought her no comfort, and he won't be forgetting that any time soon.

Vaughan nudges Danny. "Marty incoming."

He looks up and sees the cop approaching them, beady eyes narrowed on Danny. Marty the Cop keeps a hand on his belt, fingers drumming against his thigh. Inches away from his stun gun, Danny notes. Real quality cops in Amity Park, he thinks.

"Daniel Fenton?" Marty asks.

"No."

"Funny. I know your parents, and I hope you'll be a lot easier to deal with than they are."

"Marty!" Vaughan hisses. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Hey, just saying. You know how the Fentons are."

"Have some compassion you heathen."

Marty rolls his eyes. "Daniel. We don't have a procedure for something like this, but I'm gonna need you to come down to the station so I can get a statement. Your parents," he sneers, "will meet us there."

"But Valerie..." Danny trails off. The coroner already has her in a body bag on a stretcher. They're in the middle of loading her into the van, taking her away. Danny watches, numb. A protest nearly rises to his lips, but he holds it back. What does he think that's going to do? They can't leave her in the street, and he can't sit here forever. She's gone and nothing's going to change that.

Marty taps his foot impatiently, staring down at Danny.

Danny waits until the coroner slams the van's back door before answering. "Okay. Let's go."

—

The interrogation room is cold, the metal table raising goosebumps along Danny's arm as he leans against it. Marty brought him here "for privacy." Danny thinks the guy just hates his parents and wants to see him squirm. Danny relishes in disappointing him, far too numb to react to the sombre setting.

"Name?" Marty asks.

"Daniel James Fenton." Danny answers.

"How did you find the deceased?"

"I– I was there. I watched the fight. Um." Danny scrambles for an explanation. "I got stuck in the street, and I saw it."

"Can you describe what happened to me?"

"She and Phantom were fighting some ghosts. I didn't see exactly, but something happened, and Valerie fell off her board. And she–"

"Are you confirming the deceased's identity?"

Danny stares at Marty, confused. The cop had to see her face. She hadn't been wearing her visor when it happened, her head exposed for anyone to see. A good few seconds pass before Danny realizes his mistake. To Marty, Valerie wasn't anybody, just a face behind a mask. Only now does it dawn on him that none of those bystanders were looking at Valerie Gray, a high school student killed tragically. When they saw the body, they saw Red Huntress, a local hero brought down by a foe.

"Yeah. Her name is Valerie Gray. She's a senior at Casper High." Danny says.

Marty's eyes widen minutely. "Your relationship with her?"

Danny starts to say friends, then stops. Would she call him a friend now? He settles on, "Classmates. We were classmates."

Before Danny's eyes, Marty's whole demeanour changes. "Shit, kid," he says. He frowns and rubs his eyes, sighing in a way that makes Danny think of Vaughan. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't have had to see that, and I shouldn't have– just, sorry. I know it must be hard, but can you tell me what happened?"

Danny spares a moment to collect himself. "She, uh. Something happened and she fell, and one of the ghosts. They, it could shapeshift. And it st–stabbed her." Danny swallows, trying to wash away the bitter taste the lie leaves in his mouth. He almost wants Marty to call him out on it, point out the way his fingers twitch or how his gaze jumps around the room as a subtle tell.

Tell me I'm lying, Danny thinks. Make me tell the truth. To his disappointment, Marty just hums and writes Danny's words in his notepad.

"I'm sorry I had to bring you down here," Marty says when he finishes. "Your parents should be here by now."

Danny nods.

Marty doesn't move, staring intently at the table.

"Are we... are we done?" Danny asks.

"Huh?" Marty looks up. "Oh. Yeah, you can go." He still doesn't move.

"Okay..." Danny stands up, shoving his chair back. The metal legs screech on the concrete floor, but Marty doesn't react beyond a reflexive wince. On his way out of the room, Danny hears Marty mutter.

"A high school senior? Damn."

Danny doesn't stick around after that, quickening his steps and hurrying out to the bullpen. As he nears, he hears a commotion, raised voices.

"Where's our son?"

"Sir, he's just being questioned right now."

"Questioned? What for? He's not a criminal."

"It's the procedure, please, sit down."

"It's ghosts is what it is, and that's our business!"

At the end of the hall, Danny lurches to a stop. "Dad!"

Jack turns toward his voice and beams. "Danny!" He puts down the cop he was harassing, setting them back on the floor. Danny's surprised no one tried to cuff his dad for that stunt. Then again, Jack is a good foot taller than the tallest person here, and at least twice as wide. He engulfs Danny in a crushing hug, thick arms wrapped around his shoulders. "They told us something happened with a ghost and the Red Huntress."

"What were you doing out of school, young man?" Maddie scolds from behind Jack. "You can't afford another tardy."

"Valerie's dead," Danny says.

Danny can't see his parent's faces, not with his own pressed against Jack's chest, but he feels Jack tense and hears Maddie gasp.

"Oh, sweetie. That poor girl." Maddie's hand finds its way to Danny's head, brushing his hair softly. "I'm so sorry. What happened?"

"There was a ghost–"

"A ghost!" Jack releases Danny and steps back, pumping his fists. "Damn ghosts! Which one did it? We gotta get 'em, Mads."

"Of course, dear. But perhaps we should take Danny home first?" Maddie gives Jack's arm a placating pat and tilts her head towards Danny.

"Please?" Danny's voice is soft and pleading to his ears. All he wants right now is to collapse in bed and shut everything out for a few hours. He'd take days if he could manage it, but with his family, tough luck. A part of him hopes no one tells Jazz any time soon, at least not until he's unconscious.

They head out to the RV, Maddie and Jack claiming the front seat while Danny curls up in the back, thankful for the meagre amount of solitude it provides him. His parents' murmuring voices wash over him, lulling him into a daze as they drive—Maddie at the wheel, thank god.

Danny barely believes Valerie's gone. He glances out the window, half expecting to see her streaking across the sky on her board, a blur of black and red. Not even an hour ago, they were exchanging taunts and banter as they beat Spectra and Bertrand back. Neither ghost was much of a fighter. Together, he and Valerie should have taken them, easy, but all their guns and ectoblasts couldn't stop the mental hits from catching them. Out of all his enemies, Danny's never feared anyone like he fears Spectra.

Pariah Dark and Dan? They might be three times his size and ten times as strong, but he knows how to fight ghosts like them. A well-placed hit, a lucky shot, and victory is his. But Spectra? She leaves scars so much deeper than any ecto-burn, ripping him open and dragging every flaw to the surface. Too weak, too pathetic, too confused to fight against her, she overwhelms him more often than not. And now... every taunt she's ever tossed his way comes to mind.

I'm sure you're only half the monster your parents think you are.

Everyone's afraid of being weak, but I've never seen someone meet those expectations so well!

Not everyone is cut out to be the hero.

Turns out, Spectra was right all along.

—

Maddie pulls up outside Fenton Works, idles long enough for Danny to step out of the RV, then peels out with the sound of shrieking treads. "Let's get that ghost, baby!" Jack bellows. And then they're gone, around the corner and out of sight.

Watching the dust settle over the road once more, Danny isn't sure what to feel. He's pretty sure that normal parents wouldn't just leave their freshly grieving son at home alone so they can go hunt ghosts, but when have his parents ever been normal? At this point, Danny doesn't think he could function with regular parents. Growing up, he wished Maddie and Jack were less Fenton, but after nearly two decades, Danny knows how to deal with Fentons. He knows how to be alone when his parents set out seeking vengeance on the local spectres.

Danny heads inside, kicking off his shoes at the door, and instinctively goes to set down his backpack, until he remembers it's still at school, probably in Lancer's classroom. Unless Sam or Tucker grabbed it for him. He flexes his empty hand before letting his arm drop to his side. It's Friday, anyway. He has all weekend to get his backpack back, no matter where it ends up.

Danny goes straight to his bedroom, flopping onto his bed. He should change out of his clothes, still smeared with Valerie's blood, but he doesn't have the energy for it. The thought of getting up and digging through his drawers makes his limbs heavy. But sleeping in the shirt Valerie bled out on... that thought has Danny lurching out of bed. He fumbles about in his laundry basket, grabbing a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. In seconds, he's stripped off the bloody clothes and dressed himself in, at least relatively, clean new ones.

The bloody clothes get shoved under his bed. Out of sight, out of mind. And right now he wants to be out of here. A few hours of sleep where everything else can just fade away sounds great right about now. Finally, Danny slips into bed, pulling his covers up to his chin, and lets sleep take him.

—

Snow crunches under his boots. The afternoon sun glints off the sparkling surface, nearly blinding him. He has to squint and shade his eyes to see properly. Even then, it hurts. Danny shivers, drawing his arms in close. He puffs out frosty clouds with every breath, crystals of ice hanging in the air for a moment before they melt, droplets falling to the ground.

Scanning his surroundings, he tries to find some kind of marker. A building, a sign. He'd even take a tree, anything that isn't snow. But no such luck. It's a flat white field in every direction, stretching well into the horizon.

"Great," he mutters. Of course, he's lost. He can't even remember how he got here. Flying, maybe. Chasing a ghost. Looking down at himself, he sees his familiar white and black jumpsuit, so he already went ghost.

Danny shivers again, his whole body trembling. His jumpsuit might be great against hazardous ectoplasmic materials, but the black boots and gloves, designed for lab work, provide little warmth. His fingers and toes are already numb. The heavyweight fabric making up the rest of the suit is a little better, but not much. He can't remember the last time he felt this cold. Not since before he got his ice powers, at least. Back then, it felt like a blizzard raged within him, full of furious winds and freezing air.

This feels like sinking into the bottom of a frozen lake, where there's nothing to feel but cold and crushed.

"I can't stay here," he says, receiving no answer. Not surprising. Who would answer him out here? Sighing, he gives the horizon another speculative glance and picks a random direction. No matter what way he goes, he has to find civilization eventually, especially if he flies.

Danny takes off into the air, makes it two feet up, then plummets back down and faceplants in the snow.

It takes him a moment to realize what happened. When he does, he jerks his head back, spitting out snow, and stares at the imprint of his face in the ground. Glancing at his chest, he checks again to make sure he's in ghost form. Jumpsuit? Check. Ghostly aura? He can't tell, thanks to all the snow. Even the white of his jumpsuit blends into the field. If anyone is out there, all they would see of him are the black pricks of his boots and gloves.

Pushing himself back to his feet, Danny tries again. And again. And again. Each time earns him the same result, a moment of weightlessness at the apex of his jump, followed by a lurch as he drops back down. After the fifth try, Danny finally admits it. He can't fly. If he wants to go anywhere, it has to be on foot. Dreading the trek ahead, he sets off.

With every step, the cold digs in a little more, sinking its sharp claws into his chest. Breathing hurts. Every inhale he feels ice coating his mouth. Every exhale, crystals sting as they drag across his tongue. Blood wells in his mouth, tinting the mist leaving his mouth pink.

Still, Danny presses on. He can't tell how long he walks for. The sun stays rooted to its place in the sky, almost directly above him, shining pale and blue. He's gotten used to staring at the bright snow, at least, able to keep his eyes open without them hurting, so that's a bonus. Squinting into the distance, Danny finally sees something. It glitters, bright and blue, although that might be the sunlight. Either way, it brings a relieved grin to Danny's face. Bolstered, he takes off running.

At first, it looks like a giant mass, but the closer he gets, the better he can make it out. Spires of ice, hundreds of them, protruding from the earth, like a giant's icy fingers poking through the grave. They sharpen into needle-thin claws at the tips, far above his head.

Danny slows when he reaches the first one. It's as thick as the Fenton RV and taller than any building in Amity Park. He can't help but feel awed, tipping his head back as he stares up to the top. Something tells him this isn't a natural formation. He looks at it and sees an awesome display of power.

"Jealous?" a voice whispers in his ear.

Danny spins toward the noise, but the space beside him is empty. He backs away, eyeing the open air with suspicion. "Who said that?"

Something rushes at his left side. He stumbles back, bumping against the ice, and nearly tumbles into the snow. "Who's there?"

"Imagine what you could do with this kind of strength."

Danny swings at the voice. It cackles and flies away out of reach, but not fast enough for him to miss completely. His knuckles skim something, telling him this isn't in his head. It's real. It's real and he can fight it.

"Just let it out, you'll feel better."

Danny snarls and lunges after the voice. He chases it through the spires, spitting curses and swinging his fists. Every hit misses, but he gets tantalizingly close, feeling cloth and skin brush his knuckles more than once. He loses himself deeper and deeper into the maze, kicking up snow, slipping on the ice.

All the while, the voice taunts him.

"If only you had this power. No one could stand up to you, could they? But you're just so weak."

"I'm not weak!"

Stale breath wafts across his face. Danny recoils, lips curling in disgust at the smell. The figure, inches from him yet still unseen, whispers, "Then why couldn't you save her?"

"Shut up! Shut up! Leave. Me. Aloooooooooooo–" Danny's cry pierces the air. It reverberates throughout the icy maze, shaking spires and cracking the ground beneath his feet. Jagged fissures split the ice, shattering the spires into pieces. All around him, they fall in chunks, smashing against the ground.

The wail echoes long after his breath runs out and the spires have crumbled, leaving him in a field of ruin. He gasps, hungry for air, chest tight and mouth numb. Something drips off his lips. Red drops litter the snow at his feet. Reaching up, he touches his mouth and his fingers come away bloody. It spills down his chin rivulets, fills up his mouth and lungs until he's drowning in it. Choking, Danny stumbles forward. His foot catches on a chunk of ice and he falls forward, barely catching himself on his hands. Blood sprays from his mouth.

"Pathetic."

Danny raises his head. Everything's blurry, but he can just make out Spectra's dark form in front of him.

"No wonder you died," she sneers. Turning her head, she glances at something off to the side.

Danny follows her gaze and sees a single spire still standing, this one far shorter than the others were. He swallows, struggles to take a breath. It comes out raspy and wet. Pushing through the agony, he crawls forward until the spire is inches away. The white of his jumpsuit is stained red, looking more like Valerie's old suit than his. Reaching out, Danny lays his hand on the spire. His reflection doesn't reach back.

Trapped in the ice, lips blue from the cold, Valerie opens her eyes.

—

Danny's head is thrumming when he wakes. The room spins. Blood rushes in his ears. He feels his heart beating against his temple, his chest, his throat. It takes a good minute for everything to settle down, leaving him flushed and dizzy. He throws an arm over his eyes, the fading image of Valerie's glare piercing the darkness.

It was just a dream.

Danny scrubs his face and pushes himself upright, sparing a glance at his alarm clock. Nearly eight a.m. He slept through the whole afternoon and night, and yet exhaustion still drags at him. Too bad, he won't be sleeping again any time soon. Not if that's what waits for him.

As his pounding heart finally quiets, slowing to a steady pace, he hears a soft buzzing. Danny's head swivels, his gaze searching the room for the source. It must be his phone, but he left that at school with his backpack yesterday. And yet, there it is, sitting just inside his bedroom, leaning against the wall by the door. His friends must have brought it for him after all.

He grabs his backpack and digs through the main pouch, finding his phone soon enough. Sam's name appears at the top of the screen. He hesitates before hitting the answer button.

"Hey, Sam," he says.

"Danny! I wasn't sure if you'd be awake. When you didn't come back to school, we thought you had gotten hurt during your fight, and we couldn't call you to check."

"Not quite, I guess." Danny makes a noise, not quite a laugh, less than a groan.

"No one answered the door when I dropped off your bag, so I left it in the flowerbed and texted Jazz. I just found out what happened."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Um, Tucker's with me, actually. Hold on."

Sam goes silent for a moment. As she's distracted, Danny sets his backpack on the floor again and backs up to his bed, dropping on the mattress with a bounce.

"Okay, it's on speaker."

"Hey, Danny," Tucker says.

"I texted him as soon as I heard. We're on our way over now, but I thought we'd call first. See if you were, you know. Okay."

"I'm–" Danny falters. Of course he's not okay; how could Sam even ask that? What does she expect him to say? I saw Valerie die, and it's all my fault, but sure, I'm great! "No, Sam. I'm not."

"Man, I'm sorry you were alone. We should have gone with you," Tucker says.

Danny pales. "No! Oh, god, Tuck, no." He runs the scenario through his head. Sam and Tucker by his side when it happened. Sam and Tucker dead, just like Valerie. If not dead, then... witnesses to his lowest moment. He wouldn't be able to look them in the eyes if they had been there. He's not sure he can look them in the eyes now. "It's better for you that you weren't there."

"But not for you! We should have asked if you needed our help before you left. Maybe we could have–"

"No. You couldn't have known, Tuck. Look, I thought it was the Box Ghost or something, not..." Danny presses a hand to his eyes and takes a sharp breath through his nose. "It doesn't matter. It happened. She's gone."

In the silence that follows, Danny perfectly pictures Sam and Tucker trading worried looks.

"Danny." Sam takes over. "It must have been horrible."

"Yeah, it was." He can practically hear Sam grimacing at that.

"It must have been horrible," she repeats. "It shouldn't have happened. And you never should have seen it. We're still sorry we couldn't be there for you."

Danny squeezes his eyes shut. Why, why are they apologizing? Why are they being nice? They should be screaming at him for letting Valerie die. Four years of ghost fighting and he loses someone now when he's supposed to be at his best, his strongest. Not only couldn't he save her, but he's also the reason she's dead. If anything, Sam and Tucker should have been there in his place, then Valerie would have survived.

"Guys, it's... it's fine."

"No, it isn't. We can talk when we get there if you want to. It might help."

"Actually, I think I want to be alone right now." Guilt pricks Danny's heart, but he means it. He doesn't want to talk about it, and if they're just going to pity him, then he doesn't want his friends with him. At least not right now. "Maybe tomorrow or something."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I just. Need time to myself, to process," he says.

"Okay, if that's what you need."

"Just don't shut us out, okay, man?" Tucker says.

Danny nods, then remembers they can't see him and promises just as much. "I'll be okay."

Sam and Tucker say their goodbyes, neither of them sounding confident. Danny hangs up before they can apologize to him or offer any more condolences. He doesn't deserve their pity.

Tossing his phone away, he stays rooted to the spot for a moment, trying to swallow down the tightness in his throat. It doesn't help much. Instead, pressure builds behind his eyes, and no matter how much he tries to fight it, the tears come unbidden. He cries quietly, biting his tongue to stay silent, like a child fighting not to be heard. He doesn't hear the usual clangs and bangs signalling his parents' presence—perhaps they're out hunting for Valerie's killer once again, unaware he lies in their own home—but Jazz could be here; it was the weekend. He doesn't want her to hear him and come knocking on his door.

So, he turns and falls onto his side, shoving his face into his comforter, and makes as little noise as possible as his entire body shakes. Jazz says crying is supposed to make you feel better, once you're done feeling terrible. Somehow, he can't imagine any good feelings coming from this. The tears stop soon enough, leaving him with a pounding headache, puffy eyes, and, just as predicted, feeling no better than before.

As he struggles to pull himself together, rubbing the tear tracks from his face, he hears footsteps outside his door. He pauses, holding his breath, hoping they will pass by.

They don't. A light knock comes.

"Danny?" Jazz whispers, her voice soft enough that he can barely hear her through the door. For one terrifying moment, he thinks he heard her after all, but then she goes on. "Are you awake?"

He doesn't answer.

Jazz waits for another second or two, then leaves. Danny lets out the breath he was holding and sags in relief. He will have to talk to her eventually, but for now, he wants to be alone. Assured that he will get his wish, for a little while longer at least, he crawls back into bed. With the nightmare fresh on his mind, he has no plans to fall asleep again, and settles on staring at his phone, grabbing it from where he tossed it away by his pillow. Today is a day for being numb.

—

Danny stays in his room all day. At noon, Jazz comes around again, knocking on his door and asking to be let in. He turns her away.

"I just want to be by myself right now," he tells her.

She gives in easily enough. "Okay, that's fine. But don't forget to eat. I'm going to the library and I'll be back later."

"I won't forget," Danny says. And he doesn't. He thinks about it, a lot, but he doesn't have the energy to go downstairs and raid the fridge for food. There might be something in the cupboard, some crackers he can snack on with little effort, but even then, the prospect of heading all the way downstairs stops him. One day of wallowing won't hurt. He's gone longer without food the few times he's gotten stuck in the deepest parts of the Ghost Zone.

Sam and Tucker send him a few texts throughout the day. Word has spread fast about Friday's events. Practically the whole town now knows that Valerie Gray was the Red Huntress, and that Fenton boy was there when she died.

Danny doesn't like Amity's rumour mill, never has. More often than not, the churning gears spew out harsh words about his family. He's heard everything from jabs at his father's intelligence—completely incorrect, Danny would like to see anyone else design a ghost portal—to sly suggestions about Danny's parentage—thanks, Vlad, for gleefully fuelling those—to whispers about how neglectful his parents supposedly are. He can't entirely argue against that last one, but he still doesn't like to hear it.

Horror fills him at what things they might be saying on Valerie's death.

As night approaches and Jazz returns home, Danny has barely moved from his bed. He got up once to go to the bathroom and ended up huddled on the bathroom floor for a good hour, afraid to look in the mirror, plagued by visions from his nightmare. Jazz knocks on his door again, and, again, he feigns sleep, pulling the covers up over his head. Good thing, because this time, instead of walking away when he doesn't respond, she opens the door and peeks inside.

"Oh, Danny," she says. Danny struggles to keep his breathing even as she walks closer, her steps signalled only by the creaking of his floorboards. The bed dips when she sits on the other side, at his back. Her hand rests on his hair, nearly making him flinch.

"I hope you know I'm here for you. It's only been a day, but don't lock yourself away in here. It won't make you feel any better."

He wonders why she's saying all this when he's asleep, as far as she knows. If he hadn't been awake, her words would mean nothing to him. He scowls into his pillow, suddenly decided that they do mean nothing to him. If this is her version of helping, comforting him when he isn't even awake to hear it, then he doesn't want her help. Danny's glad when she leaves.

Sometime later, he's not sure how long, Maddie and Jack come home, too. They make far more noise, or Jack does, stomping around downstairs, grumbling his disappointment at catching no ghosts. They come to check on him, too, but unlike Jazz, they stay at his door, saying nothing, slipping away when they realize he's 'sleeping'.

Danny almost laughs. Sleeping, right. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees Valerie falling, hears her scream. Relives the moment over and over again with Spectra's laughter echoing in his ears. If these are the kinds of things plaguing him while awake, he doesn't want to know what else lies waiting in his nightmares, especially after last night. He sits in his room, curled on his bed, and stares at nothing. More than once, he hears Jack and Maddie groaning about the ghost they failed to catch.

"We'll get them, Mads. Don't you worry. No rotten ghost can escape the Fentons for long!"

"That poor girl. It was only a matter of time before something like this happened."

Then why didn't you try and stop it? a traitorous part of Danny's mind whispers. If you knew, why didn't you save her?

A more rational thought breaks through the bitter hisses. And what could they have done? Hunted ghosts more than they already do? Built a permanent containment system so Danny could keep his enemies locked away forever? Put a shield around all of Amity Park to keep the ghosts out?

Yes.

Danny stairs up at his ceiling, blinking slowly as he ponders that revelation. Yes, they could have. If they thought ghosts were so dangerous, if they expected someone to die at their hands eventually, then they should have done something, anything, to stop it. Make something to ward ghosts away, arm citizens with protective gear and weapons, close the fucking portal. They had so many options and they did nothing.

Danny has never hated his parents before. Been mad at them? Yes. Embarrassed by them? Definitely. But hated them? The feeling is so foreign, yet it rushes quickly to fill his entire being, a burning rage that has him clenching and unclenching his fists, holding back a blast of ectoplasm. Furious accusations ring through his head. Why didn't you; how couldn't you; you could have stopped this!

They could have stopped it.

They could have stopped him.

Danny chokes on bitter laughter. It's not funny, but he can't help it. His parents are putting in all this effort to find Valerie's killer, but little do they know, he's living right above their heads. Maybe if they looked at him with the same accusing eye they cast on Jazz whenever she acts a little out of the ordinary, they could have prevented Valerie's death long ago.

He resists the urge to call out, "I'm here! Come get me!" As much as he wants them to turn their weapons on him, the image fills him with terror. It's bad enough staring at them from the bad end of a barrel in ghost mode, but doing it as a human? Telling them he had killed someone? He wants someone to hate him, to scream at him, but at the same time, he can't stand seeing the betrayal in their eyes, realizing that he'd been a ghost all along, the one thing they hate above all else.

Danny whimpers. This is pathetic; he's pathetic. Forget hating his parents, he doesn't think he's ever hated himself this much before. But it still doesn't matter, because it won't bring Valerie back.

—

There's a shadow in Danny's room. He finds it the second day after Valerie's death, when he's nearing forty-eight hours of no sleep. He hasn't tried since yesterday, too afraid of his nightmares, occupying himself with his phone instead. Hell, he even picked up his textbook at one point, when playing games got too boring.

He hasn't eaten yet, despite Jazz's efforts, and barely had anything to drink. Stomach cramps come and go, but the headache stays with him, a combination of dehydration and exhaustion as the fortieth hour without sleep slips by. It's no surprise, then, that he doesn't notice the shadow right away, not until it's solid enough to block out the glow-in-the-dark stars on his wall even though he stares right at it. Each cluster of stars, lovingly placed by his hand, forms a constellation. Together, they mimic the night sky, as well as plastic stars in a square room can mimic the infinite expanse of space. Danny knows the patterns by heart, can trace them with his eyes closed. When he sees two of Cepheus' stars are gone, he realizes something's wrong.

Dragging himself out of his trance, he rubs his eyes, scratchy and dry from staying open so long. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust, and even then, he has to strain to see... something. It doesn't look like much; a dark cloud blending into the shadows of his room. The shape isn't human, or even ghostly. Just there.

Reaching over to his bedside table, Danny switches on his lamp. Soft orange light fills the room, illuminating the corner. The shadow is still there.

"He–" Danny's voice cracks. He swallows, grimacing at how dry it is. It's been a while since he had something to drink, or eat for that matter. "Hello?" he tries again, once it doesn't hurt to talk.

Anyone else might feel ridiculous talking to a cloud, but Danny's had entire conversations with less. You get used to that sort of thing when you talk to ghosts more than living people.

The cloud doesn't respond or react in any way. Hesitantly, Danny scratches ghost off the list of possibilities. Some kind of Ghost Zone anomaly? Not impossible, considering he lives ten feet above one of the only stable ghost portals in existence. A ghost messing with him? His ghost sense didn't go off, but it only works when an actual ghost is nearby, not an offshoot of their powers.

He can only think of one thing ghost-related that might show itself to him now of all times. He doesn't want to feel hope, but it swells in his chest anyway, bubbling up his throat until a single name bursts from his lips. "Valerie?"

The shadow quivers.

Danny clambers off his bed. "Valerie? Is it really you?"

When he gets close, the temperature plummets. A shiver seizes him, cold fingers curling around his spine.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to!"

Something cracks. Danny cries out as pain shoots up his back. He crumples, falling to the floor. It burns the same way sticking your hand in a bowl of ice water burns. He thinks he might shatter any second.

The shadow drifts closer.

"Stay back!" Danny shouts. Rolling onto his stomach, he crawls away, each movement sending searing pain up his back. Fighting back gasps of pain, he manages to drag himself up with his bed and turns on the shadow, still formless, but he has no doubts about its identity now. Valerie's hateful gaze stares out from the darkness.

Danny flees. It hurts, both running from her and just running. Every step feels like someone is driving a dagger deeper and deeper into his back, but he doesn't stop. He darts down the hall to Jazz's room and bangs on her door. Going ghost doesn't even cross his mind. He just needs someone else to see, needs to know this isn't all in his head.

"Jazz!" he shouts quietly.

Jazz rips the door open, a relieved look on her face. "You're out of your room." She takes in his panicked expression and turns serious. "What happened?"

Danny grabs her hand without saying anything and drags her to his room. "Look in the corner."

Jazz stops just in front of his door, glancing back at him; Danny has to prod her back to get her to step forward. She peeks her head in first, moving slow and deliberate. A few more steps and she slips into the darkness of his room. Danny bites his lip, afraid to go after her, slumping against the wall instead. Standing up hurts. Moving hurts. Everything hurts. He tries to slide down to the floor, but that hurts, too, and he resigns himself to standing perfectly still, waiting for Jazz's reaction.

She sticks her head out of his doorway. Rather than looking shocked like he expected, she stares at him with worry. "There's nothing here."

"What?" Danny jerks forward, biting back a wince of pain. Shooing Jazz back, he takes her place, clinging to the doorframe as he leans inside. The corner of his room is empty. A quick scan reveals no shadows out of place. "But..."

"Danny, are you okay? You haven't come out of your room in two days; that's not healthy. Have you been eating?" Jazz raises a hand to his forehead, but he flinches away from her touch.

"It was Valerie. I saw Valerie's ghost."

"Did you ghost sense go off?"

"Well, no. Not really. But it was her!"

Danny hates the way Jazz stares at him, a trace of a frown on her lips, her gaze critical, judging him, analyzing every twitch.

"Danny, you're distraught."

"No shit I'm distraught! Valerie's haunting me, apparently!" And she should. She has every right.

"Is she haunting you, or are you haunted by her?" Jazz asks.

Danny reels away from her, scowling. "What?"

"You're exhausted. You haven't been eating. Have you even changed your clothes since yesterday? Of course, you're thinking about Valerie, but you need to think about yourself, too." She reaches out again.

This time, Danny slaps her hand away, staring at her in disbelief. His lips curl back in a snarl. "That's not what this is. Jazz, I killed Valerie!"

"I know it feels like that, but it's not your fault. Just because you couldn't save her doesn't mean you did it."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"I do, Danny. Stop shouting, you're gonna wake Mom and Dad."

"No, I'm not shouting. You're not listening to me!

"Danny!"

His chest heaves. Breathing through his nose, Danny struggles to contain himself. The hall goes deathly quiet without their voices to fill it.

Jazz's face crumples. She rubs her eyes, wet and on the verge of tears, and stretches toward him once more, but gives up. Her hand hovers for a moment, then drops limp at her side. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled. But you need to sleep. You've been in her room alone for too long. Have you even talked to Sam or Tucker today?"

He meant to. He honestly did, having promised the day before to see them today. But when the time came, he couldn't bring himself to do it. He ignored their texts and calls

"Get some sleep. You'll feel better after, and then we can talk tomorrow, okay?" Jazz says.

Tomorrow. He has school tomorrow, doesn't he?

"Goodnight, Danny." But Jazz doesn't leave right away. She shuffles her feet, contemplating something. Before Danny can react, she pulls him into a hug and kisses his forehead. "I love you, little brother."

She lingers for another second, then slips by him and heads back to her room. It isn't until Danny hears the sound of her door closing that he realizes she was waiting for him to say it back. Guilt rushes through him, briefly. He could go say it now, but... he doesn't. He trudges toward his bed instead, pausing just before he reaches int. Turning his head, he peers over his shoulder. The corner is still empty. His gaze slides to the tall mirror beside his desk, leaning against the wall rather than hanging from it.

Slowly, and with shaking hands, he pulls up his hoodie to expose his lower back. There's no mark. It doesn't hurt anymore, either, stopping sometime while he was shouting at Jazz. He didn't even notice.

Danny shakes his head.  "You're just seeing things. You're tired. It's been... rough." Valerie's bloody torso flashes through his mind. He hunches forward, a shudder running through his body. "Fuck." He grabs his head, tangled hair catching on his fingers. His scalp stings as his nails dig in, but he doesn't care.

Eventually, he lays down, too tired to hold himself upright. He still tries to fight against sleep's tempting hold, gripping his arms so tight it hurts, clinging to the pain to keep him awake. No matter what, he won't let himself fall asleep.

—

Shards of ice slice his tongue and lips as he breathes. In, out, they glide across his mouth until all he can taste is blood, the shards slowly shredding his throat. He tries to grip his chest but finds a gaping wound instead, wider than his fist. Inside, his heart thumps weakly. One of his lungs, ripped open and slowly filling with blood, sags through the hole. Blood and gore spill down his chest, staining the snow all around him. All at once, he's drowning and bleeding out. Which one will kill him first? He doesn't know.

The lonely spire looms ahead of him, Valerie still trapped inside. She's wearing his jumpsuit. Looking down, Danny sees he's wearing hers. Or maybe he's Valerie, and Danny is the one caught in the ice. Drowning, bleeding, freezing to death.

"Why didn't you save me?" Valerie asks the reflection.

He gurgles in response. Unable to move, he watches, helpless, as his heart stops beating.

—

Danny jerks upright so fast that he tumbles out of bed, smacking his face on the hardwood floor. He barely registers the pain, too busy pressing his hands to his chest. The panic doesn't fade until he feels his pounding heart, strong and steady. There's no hole in his chest, no blood in his lungs. He swallows, pressing a hand against his mouth.

It was just a dream. He fell asleep on accident, that's all. He's fine. He's not hurt. There's no blood. Right as he finishes that thought, he notices the scarlet splatter on his floor.

Danny's stomach lurches. Scrambling to his feet, he rushes to the bathroom, kicking the door shut behind him. He barely makes it to the toilet before his stomach heaves, acid burning his throat as it makes its way up. There's nothing in his stomach to throw up, but that doesn't stop the heaves from coming, dry wretches tearing at his throat. Nearly a minute passes before Danny finally stops, able to catch his breath at last. Blood and bile swirl in the water and the sight of it almost has him throwing up again. He looks away from the bowl and scoots back to the wall, unable to take the smell, but unable to stand. His legs tremble too hard.

Shaking fingers rise to his mouth and touch his lips. No ice. No cuts. The only taste on his tongue is vomit. Danny swallows, and the motion makes his nose ache. Wincing, he raises his hand a little higher. His nose is bleeding, not his mouth. He swallows again and rubs his nose on his arm, leaving a bright red streak behind.

Danny can't bear to look at it. He's used to blood, especially his own after fighting for so many years. But right now it makes his stomach churn. It makes him think of that fight, of Valerie and watching her fall. He swallows again and breathes, heavy, through his mouth. His nose feels stuffed and warm, and it's definitely still bleeding. Rather than taking care of it right away, he closes his eyes and shudders. It happened so fast. He barely had time to move, much less to try and catch her. By the time he realized what was happening, it was already too late. He saw her body plummeting, and then...

Phantom blood sprays across Danny's face, hot and thick. He jerks back, thumping his head against the wall. His cheeks grow warm. Blood drips from his nose onto his lips, and the taste of copper fills his mouth. Valerie's blood is everywhere. On the ground, on him. Soaking into his gloves and staining his face. Danny wheezes, struggling to take in air. His chest heaves, and he can feel his body going through the motions, but it's like the air disappears somewhere between his mouth and his lungs. No matter how much he gasps and gulps, it's never enough. His lungs burn. His head aches. The bathroom tiles are slick and red, and the whole room tilts around him.

Fighting back a sob, Danny crawls forward. He grabs the counter and drags himself up. His legs, quivering, barely hold him, but it's enough. He fumbles with the sink tap, twisting it hard and nearly yanking it off the faucet. Over and over, he splashes water across his face. Scrubbing around his nose hurts, but he keeps going, rubbing furiously to get rid of all the blood. He doesn't stop until the water, on the coldest setting, makes him shiver. By then, the front of his shirt is soaked, and his hair is dripping wet.

Leaning over the sink, Danny takes a moment to breathe. It comes easier now, the air finally reaching where it's supposed to go, although his face still hurts. After a moment, he looks up at his reflection. His nose is a little red, but there's no more blood on his face.

Danny's cheeks flush. It was never Valerie's blood, just his own. He feels ridiculous, embarrassed, for getting so panicked over a bloody nose. Shifting his gaze to the floor, he sees only a few small spots on the tiles, not the seeping puddle that plagued his imagination.

"You're being stupid, Fenton," Danny says. "And now you're talking to yourself. Like an idiot."

He washes his face one more time, using warmer water and less frantic movements, as if that erases the panic he felt moments ago. Cleaning up his mess doesn't take long. Wipe away the spots on the floor with a few squares of toilet paper; toss that in the toilet and flush it away, along with the vomit. A quick swipe with the hand towel takes care of the water on the counter. He squeezes out his hair and strips off his shirt, too, bundling it up in the towel, and chucks both in the hamper. He's too exhausted to clean the blood out of it now, especially with the prospect of school looming over him. Maybe he'll get to it later. Or, worse comes to worst, he can just throw it away if the blood won't come out.

Before leaving the bathroom, he presses his ear to the door, listening for movement outside. He can't hear his parents. Chances are they already left, out for ghostly blood in the pre-dawn hours. It doesn't sound like Jazz is home, either. It is Monday, and she likes to leave early for college, spending the whole day on campus to focus on her work.

Holding his breath, he eases the door open and peers into the hall. Empty. He almost smiles, thankful no one was home to hear his breakdown, and shoves the door open the rest of the way.

Jazz stands on the other side of it, arms crossed. "Danny. We need to talk."

He grimaces. "Do we?"

"I could hear." She gives the bathroom a pointed look, a flash of guilt passing over her face; it's gone soon enough, almost too fast for Danny to catch it. "Whatever you're doing to yourself, you can't keep doing it. Hiding away and keeping everything locked up won't help.

Danny opens his mouth, then closes it. What do you say to someone who heard something so private when you didn't want them to? "You were listening?" Immediately, he decides that was the wrong thing to say. As soon as the words leave his lips, Jazz's shoulders sag and she gives him a pitying smile. He should have played dumb.

"It's okay to cry. You saw something terrible, and you're hurting. I'd be more worried if you didn't cry. But don't think I forgot what happened last night.  You're allowed to be alone, of course, but shutting everyone out isn't healthy. Especially not if you're... seeing Valerie." She wrings her hands, a familiar nervous habit. She does it every time she's about to launch into one of her psycho-babble spiels and isn't sure if it's welcome or not. Well, it isn't.

Danny's eyes narrow. "Unhealthy?"

"Personal space is good, but total solitude after a traumatic experience can be damaging. I don't want you to be alone."

"Unhealthy?" he repeats. "I think ki– I think watching Val-Val-Valerie." He swallows down the stutter, cursing how much his body still shakes. His mind, a jumbled mess, can barely string two words together, much less deal with Jazz right now. "I think that watching Valerie fall. To her death. Is unhealthy. You know? I think that's a little fucked up, don't you?"

Jazz steps closer, reaching out, but seems to think better about it a second later, drawing her hands back. "Danny, just listen to yourself. If you need time, that's okay, but don't forget that I'm here for you."

"It hasn't even been two days!"

Jazz flinches away from his shout.

"I'll be fine." Danny lowers his voice but keeps the hard edge in his tone. "Just let me deal with it however I want to. If I want to talk, I'll talk to you, okay?"

"Danny, don't be like this."

"You're gonna be late for class, Jazz. And so am I." Danny turns away from her. "I have to go get ready."

She steps after him, but Danny doesn't turn back, shutting his bedroom door and locking it behind him. He hears Jazz make a distressed noise, halfway between a whine and a groan. After a moment, she thumps down the stairs. The front door doesn't open, meaning she's still in the house, but Danny will take what he can get. If he leaves quick enough, it won't matter.

He dresses fast, replacing his sweatpants with a pair of jeans, but keeps his hoodie on. He hasn't taken that off for three days, now, but it smells fine to him. And it's dark enough that you can't see the blood from his nose.

Danny scrubs his eyes. He may have preferred not sleeping at all, but he can't deny that he needed rest. Although, he at least would have liked to choose to sleep. Last, he remembers from the night before, he had no intentions of falling asleep. Danny frowns. Why didn't he want to sleep? Besides the obvious nightmares. Wasn't there another reason?

He runs his hand over his upper arm, gently brushes the bruises there, struggling to remember why he did it in the first place. He presses one of the purpling spots, wincing at the way it throbs, then freezes. The shadow.

Danny's head snaps up and he zeroes in on the corner of his room. It's empty. Cepheus' constellation meets his gaze unbroken. In an instant, he wilts with relief, shoulders slumping and head dipping down. He must have imagined the whole thing, exhausted as he was. Thank god. Now is not a good time for strange shadows in his room.

He gladly shoves the entire debacle into the back of his mind and rushes out of the house before Jazz can catch him again.

—

Danny miscalculated. Avoiding Jazz is easy, thanks to school. Not that he wants to go in the first place, but he can't afford to skip, and there's no way Jazz would protest against him going, not with his bad grades. So, school doesn't have Jazz. But school does have Sam and Tucker, who Danny has been ignoring.

Peeking at his phone, Danny winces at the overwhelming amount of missed calls and unanswered texts. He feels guilty for not answering them, but... he didn't want to. He just wanted to sit in his dark room and forget. Even now, that's all he wants. If it weren't for Jazz and his already disappointing attendance record, he would still be at Fenton Works, curled up on his bed. Which probably isn't good. His sister is a psych major, he knows harmful behaviour when he sees it. Primarily because Jazz points his harmful behaviours out all the time. You throw yourself into danger too much. You're stretching yourself too thin. You need to take a break.

He sneers at the sidewalk. Right. A break. Because that would have kept Valerie alive. Not that Danny's presence did anything to save her, either. He bites the inside of his cheek, not hard enough to draw blood—he doesn't want that taste back in his mouth for a long time—but enough to be distracting, cutting off that thought before it can go any further.

Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Valerie's gone and that's it. There's nothing more to it. She's gone and she's not coming back. For someone who fights ghosts, literal dead people, on a near-daily basis, you would think Danny could handle death better than this. He knows most of his enemies were once living, breathing people who died in tragic ways. Danny was once a living, breathing person who died in a tragic way. He just skipped out on the "stop breathing" part of things.

He faces mortality every day, every time he goes ghost. So why can't he face this? Why is this any different than any other day?

Because it was his friend, and he saw it, and he couldn't stop it. Because it was his fault.

Danny cups his mouth and chokes on a sob. He doesn't want to do this here, in the middle of the street. Or at all, if he could just not. But apparently, the rest of him thinks this a great time to breakdown, because the tears come unbidden, spilling over his cheeks. Ducking his head, he hurries forward. The faster he gets to school, the faster he can lock himself in the bathroom, or the janitor's closet, or anywhere without prying eyes.

The tears blur his vision, turning his feet into red smudges against the grey sidewalk. He doesn't dare lift his head, just in case anyone sees him. Thankfully, he doesn't need to watch where he's going to make his way to school. After four years, the route from Fenton Works to Casper High is firmly etched into his brain

Danny wipes some of the tears away with his sleeve when he reaches the school grounds, pausing to compose himself as much as he can. After a few deep breaths and swallowed sobs,  he feels well enough to storm the student body. With any luck, he can hold himself together long enough to make it to the bathroom.

Before he can step from the sidewalk onto the schoolyard, someone grabs Danny and pulls him aside. Stunned, it takes him a moment to realize what has happened, even as Tucker's arms wrap tightly around him.

"Dude, we've been so worried." Tucker squeezes Danny tighter. His voice is thick and watery. "Jazz said you wouldn't come out of your room, and you wouldn't answer our texts. Just– god, it must have been so awful. Man, I can't imagine."

Finally, Danny registers what's happening. Tucker's hugging him, and crying into his shoulder. This is bad. Tucker shouldn't be doing that. Tucker is... Tucker is good, and Danny did something horrible. Tucker shouldn't be comforting him.

"I­–" Danny falters. Inside, he's screaming. Say it. Say it's your fault. Make him hate you. You deserve it. "Tuck, you–"

He can't say it. Instead, Danny reaches up, grabbing Tucker's arms, and carefully pulls them off his shoulders. He steps back, squeezing Tucker's wrists once, before letting go and looking away.

"I'm okay. You, I know you liked her. And she was our friend. How are you?" Danny asks.

"Dude. You liked her too, and you were actually there. You're not okay."

Danny bites his lip, unsure how to respond to that. It's true, but he deserves this. Tucker doesn't. "But you­–"

"Guys!" Sam—when did she even get there?—cuts him off. "Just be sad together, okay?"

Danny glances at her, then away, then back again, shocked. Her eyes are red. In all the years they've known each other, he can't remember ever seeing Sam cry, even when she broke her ankle fighting Technus that one time. The most she did then was swear up a storm before punching the ghost barehanded. It didn't exactly do much to Technus, but Sam looked damn proud of herself afterward.

Right now, she looks downright distraught. Danny wonders how many of her tears were for him, and how many were for Valerie. They may not have gotten along a lot of the time, but they were still friends. He hopes she cried for Valerie more, although he'd rather she not cry at all. He doesn't know what to do when a girl cries

"But," Sam shares a glance with Tucker, one Danny doesn't like, "seriously, Danny. Are you okay? We heard how it went down."

Danny pales. Did they know? How? By the time anyone else arrived, he already had Valerie in his lap, her skin cold as ice.

"It was Spectra and Bertrand, right?" Tucker says. "They said that one of them... well, they..." He motions vaguely around his torso.

"Tucker!" Sam slaps his hands down.

Danny looks away again, hiding the relieved look on his face. They don't know. Guilt and shame quickly wash the relief away. He should tell them. Or Valerie's dad. Danny rubs his eyes, a new tension pressing down on him. He hadn't even thought of Valerie's dad.

Did Marty the Cop call him? He must have, after Danny left. By then, Mr. Gray may have already seen the news. God, that must have been horrible, turning on the TV to see Lance Thunder reporting his daughter's death before he even knew about it. Although Sam and Tucker hadn't known until the day after. Maybe Mr. Gray remained ignorant, too, until Marty could break the news gently. He hopes so.

"Danny?" Tucker reaches out and touches Danny's shoulder.

Danny steps away. For a moment, he's glad he's not looking Tucker's way. He doesn't want to see the hurt expression on his best friend's face.

"I'm okay," Danny says because he doesn't know what else to say.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He shakes his head, perhaps a little too aggressively.

"It might help," Tucker presses. "Doesn't Jazz say–"

"Fuck what Jazz says."

Tucker and Sam recoil at the harsh words. Danny feels another stab of guilt but doesn't apologize. It's only been three days and he's already such a mess. The thing in his room yesterday, the nightmare, his panic attack in the bathroom this morning. That’s what it was, wasn't it? A panic attack? He's had them before, but not like that. Usually, he feels empty and distant, like there's a gaping hole growing inside him, slowly swallowing him up. This time, Valerie's the one with the hole in her chest, and it's left Danny a shaking mess.

"You don't have to tell us anything," Sam says. Her tone is soft and understanding, as if she understands any part of what Danny's going through. "But if you ever want to talk about it, we're here for you."

"I don't," Danny says. "I can't. Just drop it, please?"

Sam and Tucker share another look, just as bad as the last, but say no more. A small mercy in Danny's eyes. He gives them an hour at most before they bring it up again, and that's being generous.

"Okay. But I'm sorry we weren't there," Tucker says.

An hour was very generous.

"It doesn't matter now. It's better you weren't there." Danny runs a hand through his hair, only able to meet Tucker's sad stare for a moment. He still wishes he had made it into the school before Sam and Tucker found him, but their little confrontation drove back his tears, at least. Now, he can't quite figure out what he's feeling. Sad? Yes. Guilty? Always. A little angry, too, but he doesn't know why. His friends haven't done anything bad.

A sourness fills Danny's mouth, making his lips pucker. Bitter feelings squirm through him, like a worm eating its way through an apple. He can't control it, but he's constantly aware of its wriggling presence. Talk about being a bad apple.

"Class is gonna start soon. Let's just go inside." Danny turns his back on them and sets off, ignoring the sting behind his eyes. The faster this day gets over with, the better. Then again, he's not looking forward to sleep tonight. He should go for a long flight instead, or maybe dip into the Ghost Zone to visit his allies, as few as they are. Anything to keep him from having more nightmares.

Danny keeps his head ducked as they walk. Sam and Tucker fall into step beside him, their elbows brushing his from time to time. He doesn't pull away, but only because the hallway is cramped and there's nowhere for him to pull away to. Eager to escape the crush of teenage bodies, he heads straight for Lancer's classroom, skipping a visit to his locker even though there are books inside that he needs. His only plans for class today are to duck his head and get through it without any more crying, and books won't help with that.

Sam and Tucker stick with him, much to his disappointment. He hoped they would break away and stop at their lockers, giving him a short reprieve from their presence. Unfortunately for him, they seem content without their books for now, or they already grabbed them before Danny arrived. The last thought doesn't sit well with him. It means they were lying in wait outside the school for his arrival. While he knows they worry about him, he doesn't enjoy falling into traps, no matter how emotionally supportive they're meant to be.

The halls are still full, thrumming with chatter, by the time they reach Lancer's classroom. It will be a good few minutes before the warning bell rings, so most students haven't bothered moving away from their lockers, instead gathering in tight-knit groups. Before stepping into the classroom, Danny pauses, lifting his hand, and gives the hall a once over. He's not surprised by what he sees. Curious, pitying eyes staring at him. Hands cupped around mouths, carrying whispers between friends. Valerie's name floats in the air.

"Did you hear­–"

"–found her­–"

"Totally gutted."

"–the Red Huntress all along."

Danny looks away all too quickly, their stares too heavy for him, and hurries into the shelter of Lancer's classroom.

Lancer looks up when they enter, his eyes widening in surprise. "Mr. Fenton?" His chair squeals when he pushes away from his desk too quickly.

"Yeah?" Danny shuffles his feet. Lancer has this way of looking at Danny like he knows much more than he should. It sets him on edge on the best days. Right now, it makes Danny's heart pound, each thump beating out a damning he-knows, he-knows, he-knows.

"You're here?"

"Uh..." Danny glances at the clock. "I know I'm earlier than usual."

"No, no, I mean." Lancer shakes his head. "Are you...?" He looks between Sam and Tucker. "May I speak to Mr. Fenton alone?"

Danny hopes his nod doesn't look as eager as it feels.

Lancer waits until Sam and Tucker leave, closing the door behind them, before turning to Danny.

"Daniel," he starts, then hesitates, which is never a good sign. "How are you?"

Danny opens his mouth, the words I'm fine already resting on his tongue. At the last moment, he pauses. Lancer looks concerned, yes, with his furrowed brows and tight frown, but it's different from how everyone else has looked at him. Not like Jazz trying to tell him how feels and what he should do. Not like Sam and Tucker pretending they understand when they don't. A far cry from his parents, who have barely spent two minutes with him since it happened.

Lancer doesn't elaborate, doesn't try to placate him. Doesn't offer shallow words of comfort. He simply asks.

"I–I'm, I'm not okay," Danny says.

Lancer nods as if he expected this. He probably did. "I saw on the news that you found her. You went through something traumatic, and I can't begin to understand that. Am I right to assume you aren't ready to talk about it?"

Words fail him, his tongue weighed down by relief. He nods vigorously instead.

"I thought as much. With that in mind, no one would fault you for not coming to school today."

Danny's mind goes blank. He stares at Lancer, blinking owlishly, as confusion fills his gaze.

"Your mental health is more important than school," Lancer goes on when Danny doesn't say anything. "I can speak to the other faculty members about your absence. And if you want to take a few more days, you can have your parents call the school. I'll make sure this doesn’t affect your grades."

Grades are the last thing on Danny's mind right now. "I can really do that?"

"After the Storm, Mr. Fenton, of course you can." Lancer sounds as surprised as Danny feels. "Mental health days are important. I've spoken to your parents about them a few times at parent-teacher conferences. Have they never mentioned it?"

"No."

Lancer frowns. "Well. You know about them now."

Danny stares down at his feet, amazed. He can just... not come to school if he isn't feeling well? And not just because he's injured or sick? And Mr. Lancer is encouraging it? Danny looks over his shoulder, catching Sam and Tucker spying through the classroom window. They offer him shaky smiles and hesitant waves.

Danny turns back to Lancer. "I really don't have to be at school today? Or tomorrow?"

"Or even the week. Not if you aren't ready for it. Some people might tell you otherwise, but as your vice principal, I fully endorse taking time off after such an experience. Should I tell the other teachers you'll be absent today?"

"Yes! Please, yes. I can't be here right now. It's... too much." Surprisingly, admitting that doesn't make Danny feel weak.

"Would you like me to call your parents to pick you up?"

"Mr. Lancer, I'm eighteen. I don't need my parents to pick me up."

"Whether you're eighteen or eight-hundred, it helps to have someone with you when you're dealing with something like this. Seeing as Jasmine should be in class, and both your friends are here, I think your parents suffice."

"Jazz is at home, actually," Danny says, leaping at the excuse. "No class today. Her professor is out. I'd rather walk home, but she'll be there, so it's okay."

Lancer purses his lips, then nods. "Alright, I'll let everyone know. Please take care of yourself, Daniel."

"Thank you, Mr. Lancer, I will." Danny rushes out of the classroom, eager to leave the school grounds before the bell rings. He brushes past Sam and Tucker on his way out.

"Hey, Danny, wait!" Tucker calls after him.

Danny doesn't want to stop, but he also doesn't want to be an ass, so he slows down instead, letting Tucker catch up. Sam stays back by Lancer's door.

"Where are you going?" Tucker asks as he falls into step with Danny.

"Home. Lancer said I could take a mental health day."

"Oh." Tucker falters. Danny doesn't wait for him, forcing Tucker to jog to catch up again. "Do you need one?"

Danny glares at him.

"Sorry, that was. Right. Yeah. Of course." Tucker flushes. "I mean, you said you were okay, and I want to believe you dude, but if you need a mental health day... Well, you know."

"Tucker." Danny finally stops, only inches from the front door. "Can you do something for me?"

"Yeah?" Tucker smiles.

"Leave me alone. No offence, but I need to be alone right now. It's hard."

Tucker's smile shatters. "Oh. Uh, yeah. Sure thing, man. I get it. Just don't take too long, okay? I'm worried."

Danny smiles, eyes empty and mouth wide. "Everyone is." With those final words, he leaves the school, and Tucker, behind.

—

Instead of going home, Danny wanders. He has no particular destination in mind, only knows he doesn't want to go home yet. Something is refreshing about walking aimlessly through Amity Park. By now, he's more used to seeing the streets from above rather than ground level. Everything looks familiar, but a little off from what he knows.

It reminds him of fourth grade when he missed the bus one day and his dad had to drive him to school. They took the most direct route, complete with hairpin turns and broken speed limits, arriving at the school well before Danny's bus did. But for Danny, the strangest thing about that day was seeing the school from a different angle.

Normally, the bus drove along the main street in front of the school, pulling into the drop-off zone by the doors. Jack drove Danny around the back, skirting around the soccer field, and pulled up alongside the school around the corner from the drop-off. That side of the school, facing the side street, was opposite the playground. As a fourth-grader, Danny had no reason to go to this side of the school. He almost didn't recognize the building when his dad pulled up, distracted by the unfamiliar windows and the narrow wedge of grass between the wall and the sidewalk.

Seeing Amity Park from the ground makes Danny think of that day. Everything is recognizable, but foreign at the same time. Outside ghost hunting, he doesn't have a reason to explore most of the city besides his usual haunts. Trying to navigate the familiar streets from an unfamiliar angle provides a welcoming distraction as he searches for landmarks he knows. Antennas on rooftops, billboards looming overhead, cornices encasing the highest floors.

Danny is eying a fresco on top of a stout three-storey building, unsure if he's seen it before or not, when his ghost sense goes off. The shiver seizes him for a moment, and he has to push down a wave of panic. He’s not sleeping, it's just a ghost. There's no reason to panic. He berates himself for being scared of something less tangible than the freaking Box Ghost. A simple nightmare is far from the scariest thing he's seen over the years; but, for some reason, it affects him in a way no ghost ever has.

Danny shakes his head. The ghost. Focus on the actual threat. A quick scan of the street to make sure no one's watching, then he dives into the closest alley, ducking behind a dumpster. Not the most glamourous place to transform, but it works.

"Going ghost!" he calls, pumping himself up. The transformation rings spark around his waist, quickly growing to their full size, and split apart with a sizzling hiss. His jumpsuit overtakes his everyday clothes as the rings spread. The rings rise above his shoulders, passing over his raised fists. Bloodstained gloves appear on his hands.

The world goes grey around him, his vision tunnelling. Danny gapes at his gloves. Blood. Valerie's blood. It's everywhere. On his gloves, his chest, his face. Seeping across the ice. Danny drops to his knees, gripping his head as the alley fades around him. Spears of ice circle him. Valerie's body lies in front of him, twitching. Blood bubbles from her mouth as she struggles to breathe, a futile effort thanks to the hole in her lungs.

Danny tries to staunch the flow, so panicked he drops his transformation, but it's not helping. The wound stretches wider than his palms. He presses too hard, his hands slipping in the blood. His palm touches something firm but it’s neither flesh nor bone. It thumps. Danny jerks back, yanking his hand out of Valerie's wound.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" he cries. His tears are lost in her blood. He never knew people had so much blood in them, but now it's everywhere, and all Danny sees is red.

He meets her dull gaze, watches her eyes fluttering. Valerie's lips move, but no sound comes out, barely even the wheeze of air. Blood bubbles at the corner of her lips. She chokes and bleeds out all at once, and Danny can't do anything but hold her.

—

Hunched over on the asphalt, Danny hacks and coughs, clutching his stomach as bile dribbles from his lips. Valerie is gone, was never there in the first place. He lets out a soft cry of pain, all thoughts of the ghost abandoned. This is all so wrong. Things were never supposed to turn out this way, and now, Danny can't even transform without panicking.

"Valerie." Danny's voice cracks as he sobs into the pavement, the rough ground pressing against his forehead. The alley reeks of garbage and vomit. His whole body hurts. It feels like he's being torn apart inside, and that's still only half the pain Valerie must have felt. She deserved so much better.

Distantly, Danny hears the wail of the Fenton RV, the sound of the rumbling engine filling up every crack and crevice of the street. His mother's voice echoes over the loudspeaker. "You ectoplasmic evil-doer! Suffer for what you did to that poor girl!"

A voice in Danny's mind hisses, I am.

He rolls onto his side, unable to stay hunched over his own sick puddle, but too weak to do anything more. A traitorous part of him thinks maybe he should have talked to Jazz after all, but a louder, more insistent part screams no. She can never know what he did. None of them can. They should hate him, but he can never tell them why. He couldn't live with himself if they knew. He can barely live with himself now.

Danny listens to his mother scream at the ghost, silently hoping that, whoever it is, they escape his parents' clutches safe and sound. He hears the boom of the Fenton bazooka, but no cries of victory or shouts of pain. Small mercies.

A shiver runs through him. Something black flickers in the corner of his vision. Danny thinks he's about to fall unconscious, familiar with the dark spots that often precede it. The flickering doesn't stop.

Danny's breath catches in his throat. Achingly slow, he turns his head to the mouth of the alley. The shadow hovers there, and it's slowly drifting closer. Danny tries to scramble back, but his trembling arms can't hold his weight. His shivers grow stronger, making his teeth chatter and his fingers go numb. He hugs himself, fighting back the chill as the shadow approaches, but it forces its way through him. A puff of glowing blue hair leaves his mouth.

"Oh, wow! The ghost boy, cowering before the power of corrugated cardboard vengeance!"

Danny starts and twists toward the intruder. The Box Ghost—of course it's the Box Ghost—is poking his head out of the wall, smiling gleefully down at Danny. He comes through all the way, revealing the Fenton RV's overhead speaker in his arms. At least that explains where his mother's voice has gone.

"That's not cardboard. And it's barely square," Danny wheezes. His gaze flickers back to the alley's entranceway. The shadow is gone.

"Well, it's mine now and you can't have it back." The Box Ghost sticks out his tongue and raises the speaker above his head. But rather than chucking it at Danny, he sets it on his shoulder and floats closer. A strange look crosses his face, one Danny can't immediately decipher. The Box Ghost's brow pinches and his eyes narrow, lips pressed into a firm line.

He's being serious, Danny realizes.

"Something awful happened, didn't it?" the Box Ghost asks.

"What?"

"Only something great and terrible could bring down the sworn enemy of me, the Box Ghost!" He lowers his voice to a more conversational volume. "And not everyone gets haunted by such twisted shadows."

Danny snorts. "That's awfully philosophic coming from you. I'm surprised you didn't squeeze a portent about the glory of boxes in there."

The Box Ghost simply frowns. "You are a strange child. I hope your shadow leaves soon so I may battle you again, at full strength! As all rivals do!"

"Wait, what?" Danny sits up. "What do you mean?"

"Farewell, weirdo!"

"Wait!" Danny shouts, but the Box Ghost is already gone. Danny stares after him, bewildered. "It's real?" The empty alley provides no answer. Danny draws his knees in close and cranes his neck, inspecting the alley. Nothing stands out. No shadows where they shouldn't be. No hidden wraiths. But the Box Ghost's words nag at him. The shadow is real after all.

One sighting he can brush off as exhaustion. Two he can blame on the mental stress. But the Box Ghost knowing it's there without seeing it? He couldn't ignore that. Maybe only real ghosts could see it, see her. She could be anywhere, and Danny wouldn't know.

He scrambles to his feet and backs against the wall. The back of his neck prickles, but he can't tell if it's real or his mind playing tricks over him, tripped into overdrive by his panic attack and the Box Ghost's unsettling words. As he scans the alley once more, something shifts in the corner of his eye. Danny peels away from the wall, jumping into a ready pose, fists raised, feet apart, fully prepared to fight.

A plastic bag. A plastic bag stuck under the dumpster, fluttering quietly in the rank alley breeze. Danny flushes and lowers his fist. If a damn grocery bag is enough to set him on edge, then he's really losing it. It's not even noon yet, but he thinks he's had enough of his walk for today. Getting some real sleep might do him some good, nightmares be damned. Or he could raid the medicine cabinet for some sleeping pills when he gets home. There might be some leftover from his dad's last prescription.

Plan set, Danny shuffles out of the alley. He barely makes it three steps along the sidewalk before the Fenton RV comes ripping around the corner. A tangle of sparking wires rests over the windshield, marking where the speaker had sat before the Box Ghost tore it out. Maddie stands on the roof, defying all laws of physics as she stays firmly rooted despite how erratic Jack drives. A Fenton Bazooka rests on her shoulder, the barrel smoking.

"We might need to circle the block again, honey. I don't see it," she shouts down to Jack.

Danny ducks behind a nearby mailbox, hoping his parents don't see him, but it's futile. From her place on the RV, Maddie has a perfect view of the street. When she turns toward Danny, he catches the exact moment she sees him, her grip on the bazooka slackening. She stomps on the roof of the RV, then braces herself as Jack slams on the brakes.

Maddie pulls her goggles down. "Danny, sweetie, what are you doing here? Don't you have school?"

"Uh, I, I'm," Danny stutters. It's the first time he's seen his parents since the police station. They look the same as ever, which he should have expected, but somehow, he thought they would be different the next time he saw them. Glaring at him from the bad end of a bazooka, perhaps. But instead of raising the gun and pointing it at him, Maddie sets the bazooka down and hops off the RV.

Danny doesn't want to tell the truth. Right now, Maddie and Jack are acting the same as they always do, and he didn't realize how much he needed that until now. When he looks at them, he sees the familiar level of parental concern they always bear, which is minimal at best. Thinking about it, that's pretty terrible, isn't it? He watched one of his friends die, and instead of staying at home and comforting him, his parents are out hunting ghosts.

Danny wavers between anger and appreciation. His parents aren't bad, but they aren't good either, are they? He doesn't want them pestering him like everyone else is, but maybe he would at least like them to try. To act as if they care. He knows they do, they do, and it's stupid being mad about something he wants, but he's mad anyway.

Maybe it's Valerie's ghost, or the two panic attacks in one day, but something makes Danny glare up at his mom and say, "Well, I've been a little fucked up since I got Valerie killed, so I decided not to go to school." Acid fills the words as he spits them out, begging for a reaction. He gets one, but not the one he wants.

Maddie steps closer and wraps her arms around Danny. "Oh, sweetie, you should have told us. Does the school know? Do we need to call them?"

Danny squirms out of his mother's grasp. "What?"

"Would helping us catch the ghost that did this make you feel better? Your father and I have been looking ever since we heard," she continues.

"Did you even hear what I said?"

"I know. We should have brought you with us from the start, but we thought you might want some time alone first. She was such a nice girl."

"Mom. I swore. I skipped school. Valerie's dead because of me!"

Maddie drags him into another hug. "Oh, sweetie. I know it feels like that, doesn't it? But just because you couldn't save her, that doesn't mean it's your fault. You were with her at the end, and that must have meant so much to her."

This time, Danny doesn't pull away, too stunned to think of moving. She should be shouting at him, scolding him, not coddling him like some kid. How can she hear him say that and think he's exaggerating?

Jack leans out the RV window, smiling sadly at the pair. "Want us to drive you home, kiddo?"

Danny bites his tongue. Briefly, he considers turning down the offer, but his legs are shaking again, and his mom's hand running through his hair brings him back to sick days in elementary school when she would sit with him all day and watch cartoons. Danny melts, although his anger doesn't disappear; it slinks away to a dark cave, giving up on the fight for now.

"I want to go home," he says.

Maddie hums, shifting her hold from a hug to an arm over his shoulder, and guides him into the RV.

"It'll get better," Jack says.

Danny doesn't answer, curling up on the backseat with his arms around his knees. When he looks out the window, he spots a blurry form in the alley. As they pull away, Danny watches the shadow until it's out of sight. A question forms in his mind.

"Mom, how long does it take for a ghost to form?"

Maddie turns in her seat. "What brought this on?"

Eyes downcast, Danny shrugs.

Maddie hums in understanding. "Well, it depends. Not everyone that dies becomes a ghost. We've done some studies of how long it takes a spectral mass to reach conscious levels after first recording its presence. So far, it can take anywhere from a few seconds to up to a week."

"And until then?" Danny presses.

"We've only managed to properly record one spectre's creation process from beginning to end. But from our notes, they appear to take a lesser non-corporeal form that barely even registers on our instruments until they're strong enough to manifest. Until then, they can't do much. We barely even saw the ghost until it manifested." Maddie smiles at Danny, in a manner that she probably meant as reassuring, but just looks sorry to him. "I hope this helped."

"Yeah." Danny nods. "Yeah, it does."

—

Danny doesn't check for the shadow when he gets home. It might be there, but he doesn't care to check. He refuses to acknowledge it. Instead, he raids his parents' medicine cabinet, finds the sleeping pills, and takes two before collapsing on his bed.

—

Valerie glares at him from within her icy prison. Danny knows it's a dream this time, and he thinks it's a little uncreative of his subconscious to give him the same one three times in a row. He doesn't think sleeping pills can affect his dreams, but he feels calmer this time. Or maybe that's just because Valerie is doing what no one else will: hate him.

"I don't want to be a ghost," she says.

"You're not. You're just dead." Lies. All lies. He knows who the shadow is, just hopes he's wrong.

"How do you know?"

Danny looks down at his lap, unsure how to answer. Ghosts exist for a lot of reasons. Not all of them were once people and not every person who dies becomes a ghost. The ones who do usually have something they wanted to live for. Fame, desire, glory. Boxes. Some part of their mind chose to stay, clinging to that one thing they wanted and couldn't get.

"You would never choose this," he finally says. "You hate ghosts. There's nothing you could want that would make you stay."

Valerie sneers. Her teeth are stained red. "What could anyone want enough for this? Why would anyone choose this?"

"I did."

"No. You didn't want to die; there's a difference. I didn't want to die either. But you took that away from me, didn't you?" Valerie looks down at Danny's hands. Following her gaze, he sees her heart resting on his palm. It beats, barely. Blood seeps from the torn aortas and soaks into his gloves. Holding a heart doesn't feel like he thought it would. Whenever Danny thinks of organs, he thinks of softy, squishy tissue, easy to pierce and crush, but Valerie's heart is a firm bundle of muscle.

Danny squeezes.

Valerie gasps, her hand shooting up to her chest, but there's nothing there, only an empty hole. She slams her fist against the ice. "Give it back!"

Danny tries, he does. His whole body shakes with effort as he tries to push his hand forward, returning what's Valerie's, but his arm won't budge. His hand squeezes tighter.

Valerie gasps and falls forward, both hands to her chest now, scratching and scraping. Her fingers hook around the hole and tug, tearing it open wider. "Stop it! Give it back!" she cries.

"I can't, I'm sorry!" Danny grabs his defiant arm in his other hand and pushes, but the frozen limb barely shakes. "I didn't mean it, Valerie. You have to believe me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry!"

Ice creeps along Danny's arm, stretching over his fingers. Beautiful frost ferns grow across Valerie's heart, tinged pink from her blood. He tries to pull them back, shoving his core down deep inside himself where the snow and ice can't hurt anyone, but it's too late. The ice overtakes her heart. Danny's hand clenches one more time. The heart shatters.

Valerie screams. Her shriek pierces the air, shattering her prison of ice. Danny slaps his hands over his ears, trying to block out the noise, but it rings inside his head, bouncing around his skull, stabbing his brain with a thousand tiny needles until blood leaks from his eyes, his nose, his ears. He screams with her, raw and hoarse until the shrieking stops and silence rings out.

—

Danny wakes up cold. Not even an hour has passed since he went to sleep. So much for the sleeping pills.

Despite wearing his warmest hoodie, he shivers. His foggy breath clouds the air in front of him, but it lacks the pale glow of his ghost sense. Instead, it's accompanied by a bone-deep chill that stings his teeth when he inhales.

In the corner of the room, the shadow hovers, darker than the previous night.

—

At sunrise, the shadow fades before Danny's eyes. It takes the pervasive cold with it, leaving him uncomfortably warm, swathed in a pile of blankets that hadn't helped fight off his chills. His eyes burn, but he has no desire to go back to sleep. Moving slowly, he climbs out of bed, stretching his cramped muscles. The blankets slide off his shoulders, leaving him in the same sweater and jeans as the previous day. The thought of changing doesn't even cross his mind.

Danny checks the back alley through his bedroom window and finds that his parents are home today. Other than mild surprise, it stirs no strong emotions in Danny.

A knock at his door pulls his attention from the alleyway. He drums his fingers on the windowsill, pursing his lips as he debates whether or not he should answer.

"Danny? Are you awake?" Jazz's voice is pitched with worry.

Sighing, Danny turns from the window, leaning back against the sill, and answers. "I'm awake."

The doorknob turns. Jazz pushes it open a crack, her bright blue eyes peering through the narrow opening. Danny jerks his head, not quite a nod, but a welcome, nonetheless. Jazz swings the door open and shuffles inside, nudging it closed behind her.

"I'm sorry about yesterday," she says. "I shouldn't have pushed you." Danny remains silent as she takes a seat on his bed. She picks at the pile of blankets, eyeing the unruffled comforter beneath them. "Did you sleep last night?"

"I was in bed," he says.

Lips pursed, Jazz scrutinizes Danny's clothes. "You wore that yesterday, too."

"It's still clean."

"Danny. I don't want to cross any boundaries–"

"Then don't."

"–but it's only been a few days, and this is concerning behaviour. I'm not expecting you to instantly bounce back, but I'd hoped you would at least come and talk to me if it was this bad."

"Jazz. Do you know how often I don't sleep because of ghosts? This isn't that different. And so what if I'm wearing the same jeans? I only have, like, three pairs that aren't ripped or stained."

Jazz starts wringing her hands. "It can take weeks to accept a traumatic event. I don't want you to lose yourself denying what happened. It was horrible, but ignoring it won't change that. Talking will. You have me, and Tucker and Sam. Letting out what you're feeling to people you trust can help. And keeping a routine! It's important to stay grounded with regular habits. Things like not sleeping, not eating, wearing the same clothes over and over. They're signs of you slipping into negative behaviour."

"God, Jazz, you make it sound like I'm some kind of drug addict or something. You want me to talk? Fine! We were fighting Spectra, and Valerie fell off her board, and she got skewered like an ecto-weenie at a bonfire. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Jazz goes completely white. "Danny, no! That's not what I meant."

"Well, it's what you're getting. I'm going to school." He strides past her.

"You can't be serious!"

"See you later, Jazz." Danny slams the front door behind him.

—

He doesn't go to school. Lancer gave him a free pass to skip and he's going to milk that for all it's worth. It's not milking it when you actually need it, his thoughts whisper. Shut up, Danny hisses back.

With yesterday's events fresh on his mind, he doesn't want to go for a walk, either. He slinks around the side of the house and crouches beside the bushes, out of sight from the street and the front door. The dirt is dry and the bushes browning even though it's not even summer yet. Danny's parents might be great at inventing things, but they're shit at taking care of their yard. Not that Danny cares. The bushes provide just enough cover for him to see without being seen, and he only plans on sitting here for a couple of minutes, or however long it takes for Jazz to leave for school.

Danny turns his phone over in his hands. It buzzes a couple of times. Probably Jazz trying to shove more of her opinions down his throat. He debates the pros and cons of checking the messages now or later. Either way, he doesn't intend to answer, so it doesn't matter. Relenting, he flips his phone over and checks the notifications.

The message isn't from Jazz, and not Sam or Tucker either. It's from Valerie.

Danny's blood runs cold. It's not possible. She's dead. She's gone. But she's not.

| Val Is this Daniel Fenton? The contact says Space Boy

Danny blinks as he reads the actual message. He nearly laughs. Space Boy? That was his name on Valerie’s phone? He wipes his thumb across the corner of his eyes before opening his phone and typing out a brief yes.

| Val This is Valerie's father. I'd like to talk to you after school if possible

Danny ducks his head, tapping the phone against his chin. He thought about talking to Mr. Gray, but he hadn't been serious. Of all the people he could see right now, Damon Gray is at the bottom of the list. But it doesn't look like Jazz is leaving any time soon, and he doesn't want to sit in the flowerbed forever.

Before he can regret it, he texts Mr. Gray back.

| You I can talk now. I'm omw

—

The bus ride from Fenton Works to the Gray's apartment in Elmerton takes twenty minutes. Danny sits at the back and stares out the window the whole time. The landscape turns grey and dusty as they cross the river into Elmerton, malls and office buildings replaced by warehouses and empty lots.

The Gray's apartment building lies on the edge of the warehouse district. Despite Mr. Gray's job prospects steadily improving over time, they never moved out of the cramped apartment that carried them through their darkest days.

Mr. Gray answers the door before Danny can even knock.

Danny lowers his raised arm. "Um, hi."

Mr. Gray looks as bad as Danny expected. He hasn't shaved in a few days, and his eyes are dry and red. Danny thinks he must have been crying before he arrived

"Hello, Danny." Mr. Gray steps aside to let Danny in.

They move to the dining room, where Mr. Gray sits at the head of the table, and Danny takes the opposite chair.

"Did Marty tell you?" Danny asks, seeking some reassurance in all this madness.

"Who?"

"Never mind."

"You were there for her."

Danny clenches his teeth and nods. He knows what Mr. Gray is about to say and looks away before he does.

"Thank you."

Danny stiffens. This is so wrong. "You shouldn't."

"I'm sorry?"

"You shouldn't thank me."

"You don't understand. I let her put on the suit every day even though I knew it was dangerous. If I ever tried to stop her, I know she would have done it behind my back. But still. I should have stopped her. I let this happen."

"No!" Danny shouts. He jumps to his feet, slamming his hands on the table. "No, you didn't. No one could stop Valerie when she wanted something, and... and it's my fault. Not yours."

Mr. Gray shakes his head, rising from his seat. "Danny, you made sure my daughter wasn't alone at the end. They told me how she died. There was nothing you could have done to save her."

"Mr. Gray, I didn't just find her. I was there. I'm–" Danny squeezes his eyes shut. "I'm Danny Phantom."

Mr. Gray doesn't answer. The only thing Danny can hear is the ticking of the clock. Eventually, Danny opens his eyes. Mr. Gray stands frozen on the other side of the table, gaping at Danny.

"You..." he falters. "You're..."

"I can't... show you. I haven't been able to transform since, well, since. But I am," Danny says.

Mr. Gray drops back into his chair. He looks up at Danny, then down, then up again. "You?" He runs a hand over his head.

"Mr. Gray?" Danny asks.

"Hold on." Mr. Gray cups his hand over his mouth, muttering under his breath, too low for Danny to hear. His wide eyes dart back and forth across the table. It looks like his whole world is falling apart before his eyes.

With nothing else to do, Danny lowers himself back into his seat. He waits, patiently, for Mr. Gray to finish processing, looking about the apartment for some kind of distraction. Nothing much has changed since the last time Danny was here, nearly a year ago. There's a picture of Valerie and her mom hanging on the wall by the clock. Both of them are smiling widely. It should be a happy picture, but all Danny sees are ghosts that will haunt Mr. Gray forever.

"She really liked you. Did you know that?" Mr. Gray asks.

It takes some effort to tear his gaze from the photo, but Danny eventually looks back to Mr. Gray. "Yeah. I really liked her, too. For a while."

"She hated you, too."

Danny nods.

Mr. Gray sighs, sounding as exhausted as Danny feels. "Being Danny Phantom doesn't make any of this your fault. She might have started ghost hunting to get you, but it ended up meaning so much to her. I'm sure that, with or without you, she would have found her way to it somehow."

Danny bites his lip. He knows what he wants to say, but once he does, there's no going back. Over Mr. Gray's shoulder, he notices a dark spot in the living room, one that wasn't there before. Valerie.

"That's not all. Mr. Gray, there's something you need to know about how Valerie died."

—

An hour later, Danny steps out of the apartment. Mr. Gray closes the door behind him without a word. By now, they've said everything they need to. Danny slumps against the wall and inhales sharply through his nose. He holds it for a second, trying to keep himself together even as the shaking starts. He only manages for a few seconds before he breaks. The tears flow freely down his face as he gasps, sinking to his knees in the middle of the hall.

Rocking back and forth, he wails into the floor. He lets out every pent up emotion in his cries; frustration, anger, sadness, guilt. They fill him up, suffocate him, steal his air, then leave in ragged gasps. He cries until his throat hurts and his tears blind him. He cries until he has no more tears left to spill.

—

Danny calls Tucker that night, around midnight. They haven't spoken since Danny ditched school, and  Tucker hasn't even sent him any texts or left any messages—although Sam had. It looks like he took Danny's request to leave him alone to heart. Danny refuses to feel guilty for it, but he also needs to talk to someone, and Tucker is always the first person he thinks of during these times.

Jazz was gone to class by the time Danny got back from Mr. Gray's, and he brushed her off when she got home earlier that evening. His parents, to Danny's complete lack of surprise, have gone back to being their usual negligent selves, putting ghost hunting before their mourning child.

Danny is constantly aware of Valerie now, finding her lurking around every corner, hovering at the edge of his vision, taunting him. He doesn't know what to do. So he calls Tucker.

"What would you do if I did something really bad?" Danny asks as soon as Tucker answers the phone.

"Hello, Danny."

"What would you do?"

Tucker sighs. "I thought you wanted me to leave you alone."

"Tucker. I'm being serious, come on."

Tucker remains silent. A day ago, it might not have bothered Danny at all, but now it makes him squirm. He needs to hear Tucker's answer.

"Okay. I'm sorry, happy?"

"No."

"Why not? I apologized."

"Because you're being a dick, Danny! You're not the only one who lost Valerie, okay? I thought you got that, but I guess I was wrong. I'm sorry I couldn't be there, and I'm sorry you had to see that, but I'm hurting too. I have no idea what's going on with you right now, but going through something shitty doesn't give you a free pass to be an asshole." Tucker's voice cracks.

Guilt twists Danny's gut. In seconds, Tucker might start crying, and it will be all his fault. But he needs to know.

"Valerie is haunting me," Danny says.

"What?"

"I've been having nightmares, and ever since she died, there's been this shadow in my room. I thought it was all in my head, but then I ran into the Box Ghost yesterday, and he mentioned something about a shadow? I asked my parents and they saw a ghost form like that once."

The line stays silent. It stretches on so long Danny thinks Tucker might have hung up, until he hears a shaky sigh.

"Are you sure?"

Danny glances at the shadow. "I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know? Is it a ghost?"

"I don't know. I thought I was just seeing things, but then the Box Ghost, and what my mom said. I'm just, I'm stressed, man. Sleeping's hard, and it makes my ghost sense all weird."

"Weird how?"

"Like," Danny kneads his chest, grimacing, "like there's a block of ice in my chest. It's heavy and cold."

"Are you sure you aren't just... sad? And tired? I want to believe you, man, but Valerie as a ghost? And you just said you're not sleeping. Remember that one time you didn't sleep for, like, four days and you started seeing things?" Tucker dips into a whisper. "Are you sure you just don't want her to be gone?"

"Tucker, listen to me. I know I'm not seeing things. I'm looking at it right now! And the Box ghost said–."

"The Box Ghost says he'll rule the world with cardboard. Look, dude. I want to believe you, but you're not okay, man."

Danny scowls. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"So you're not denying it?"

"Are you going to answer my question?"

"Are you going to apologize?"

Danny doesn't answer.

"We just lost Valerie, man. Don't do this to us."

Danny closes his eyes as Tucker starts crying. He doesn't wail like Valerie did in Danny's nightmares, or gasp and sob like Danny so many times over the past couple of days. Tucker cries quietly, his voice wobbly, breaths short. He cries like he doesn't want anyone to see.

"I shouldn't have called."

"Dude, no. Wait. I'm sorry."

"I just made you sad. And it's not helping. I should just– never mind. I'm sorry, Tuck. I'm so sorry."

"No, you didn't do anything. I'm just sad, man. Of course, I am. But god, you. You were actually there. You’re allowed– okay, you're not allowed to be a dick, but I shouldn't be a dick either. If you just talked to us­–"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"You should."

"It's fine."

"It's not. Dude, it's not okay."

"Can you just fucking drop it? Whatever, it doesn't matter. Sorry I called. I'll just deal with this on my own."

"Danny, I'm sorry. Please don't–"

Danny hangs up and tosses his phone onto the bed. Calling Tucker was a mistake. It accomplished nothing, except making Tucker mad, and cry. Danny squeezes his eyes shut, lowering his head as his throat tightens. He's so tired of crying. It's a miracle he hasn't dehydrated by now. At some point, he has to run out of tears, right? No one can cry forever. Jazz always says crying makes you feel better, once you're done feeling terrible.

He almost felt good after visiting Mr. Gray. But it didn't take long for the dark feelings to return after he left. Now, he just feels worse and worse each time.

Tipping onto his side, he buries his face in his comforter and gasps. It hurts, tears at his throats, makes the cold in his chest swell and fill his lungs. "Valerie. I'm sorry."

The room grows colder.

—

"I saw your dad." It's the first thing Danny says when he finds himself before the spire again. The snow glistens pure and wide. The ice shines untouched by blood. Valerie's so close to him now, like she's on the other side of a window. The ice warps her image, blurring her edges and tinting her blue, but still. She's almost herself.

"I know," she says.

"Were you listening?"

Valerie reaches out, laying her palm on the ice. It cracks beneath her touch. "Yes."

"And?"

"It doesn't change much, does it?"

Danny lowers his gaze. He knows what he feels, what he did, no matter what Damon says. At this point, nothing can quell the guilt that swirls in Danny's blood. It seeps through him, poisoning his every thought.

"No, it doesn't," he says.

Valerie nods, satisfied, and pulls away from the ice. "Good. As long as you know."

—

Jazz knocks at his door, rapping persistently. He wonders if her knuckles ever get sore when she does that because it's been a good thirty seconds since she started. Apparently, she's resorting to the "annoying older sister" method, since the "therapist older sister" tactic didn't work so well.

Does she know about Danny's disaster of a call with Tucker last night? Danny's friends are, tentatively, Jazz's friends, too, at least when it comes to ghostly things and Danny's health. He wouldn't put it past Tucker to message Jazz, let her know what happened.

Danny swallows before calling out, "What?" His voice still comes out hoarse, probably because he hasn't had anything to drink for a good day and a half, which would explain the headache, too.  But he's very busy right now having a staring contest with the increasingly tangible figure in the corner of his room. He didn't bother sleeping last night. Between the nightmares and Valerie's ghost, he would take the ghost.

Tucker's words from last night echo through his head. Are you sure you just don't want her to be gone?

Of course, he doesn't watch Valerie to be gone. But having her ghost isn't the same as having her, and the last few days have proven Valerie's ghost is no good to Danny. Still, he watched her all night, hoping for some flicker of familiarity. A flash of her headband, the dark brown of her eyes, the soft clinking of her bracelets. Proof his dreams aren't a lie. He got nothing. He's still not sure if he wants to see something.

"Danny?"

He blinks. The corner is empty now. Danny turns his head, his stiff neck cracking, and finally notices Jazz standing inside his bedroom. He doesn't remember her entering. He stopped paying attention entirely after he answered her. Had she said anything, or did she take his question as a welcome?

Danny licks his cracked lips. "What?" he repeats.

"Tucker called me a couple of minutes ago."

Danny keeps his expression carefully blank, but inside he panics. Tucker told her. He told her everything. She's going to tell him he's seeing things again, or give him those pitying eyes, or try and tell him this is all a psychosomatic reaction to losing a dear friend.

"There's a memorial for Valerie at Casper High today. He thought you might want to go," she says.

Danny's spiralling thoughts stutter and fizzle out. "A memorial?"

"Some of your classmates wanted to pay their respects. They’ve been planning it for the past couple of days." Jazz sits down on the edge of Danny's bed. Her fingers grip the hem of her sweater, holding back from reaching out. "Do you want to go?"

Danny keeps his gaze down but thinks about the now vacant corner of his bedroom. Staring at Valerie's maybe-ghost all day can't be good for him, as much as he hates to admit it. He groans and rubs his eyes. Agreeing with Jazz is never a good sign.

"Yeah." He drags his hand down his face, letting his arm drop into his lap. Going to school won't be fun, but he will regret it if he doesn't. "I'll go."

Jazz beams. "Put on something clean and I'll drive you."

"This is clean. Relatively."

"Put on something you didn't wear yesterday. You're not getting in my car until you do."

Danny sticks his tongue out at Jazz as she leaves. He's tempted to ignore her command and roll out of bed in what he's wearing, but knowing Jazz, she meant what she said, and she will leave him at home if he doesn't change into something fresh. And Danny doesn't feel like walking to school. Before, he would have flown to school, but he doesn't even entertain the idea now.

With a weary sigh, Danny crawls out of bed and heads for his dresser.

—

The Red Huntress stares down at the auditorium from the projector screen. It's a nice shot, taken during one of her patrols. She stands straight on her board, one hand shading her eyes, the other loosely holding her blaster. Sunlight glints off her visor, masking most of her face, except the part shaded by her hand. With the visor's tint, it's near impossible to tell those are Valerie's eyes unless you know. And Danny has always known.

Even though it's just a picture, Danny can't meet her gaze for long, turning his head and staring down instead. He steps away from the auditorium doors, letting others through. A few whispers float over his head, Valerie's name paired with his, mumbles about his presence at her death, his absence at school. Maybe he should have stayed home after all.

Danny waits until the stream of students thins before raising his head and peeking into the room. About half the seats are full, most of them toward the back. Waiting might have been a mistake. Now, he can't slip unnoticed into the back row as he planned. Danny bites his lip, wondering if he could stand at the back, or if he should leave. He shuffles his feet, turning down the hall toward the entrance.

A few stranglers are still making their way toward the auditorium, some students and a handful of teachers. Lancer walks with them, nudging some freshmen along.

"We didn't know her," one of them mutters.

"I mean, she was the Red Huntress," the other says. "She was kind of badass."

"She was a student who risked her life and died tragically. Be respectful," Lancer chides. The freshmen, cowed, scurry ahead and disappear through the doorway. Lancer, pinching the bridge of his nose, shakes his head and sighs. Danny can't remember ever seeing him so weary. Lancer drops his hands and finally spots Danny.

"Mr. Fenton, you came." His smile is weak but welcoming. "How are you?"

"Not much better."

Lancer nods. "Not surprising. Am I right to assume you won't be attending class after the memorial? It only covers part of the first period."

"Actually... I think I might go." On the way over, Danny told Jazz he could walk home after, and he didn't bring his backpack with him. Until this moment, he had no intentions of sticking around longer than necessary. Ironically, at least Danny sees it that way, it's Lancer's lack of judgement that convinces him to try and stick it out for the rest of the day.

"You know, Mr. Fenton. I'm proud of you." Lancer smiles again. "Remember, you don't have to stay if it gets too much but good on you for trying."

Danny smiles back, although with far less confidence. He waits for Lancer to go on ahead before slipping into the auditorium himself. From the top of the stairs, he has a good view of the entire room. The entire student body doesn't quite fill up the seats, leaving gaps here and there between grades and friends groups. He was right that all the seats at the back are taken, for the most part. A few empty spots peek out at him, but they're all much too close to other people.

Hugging himself, he readies for the long march down the steps to the front of the room, the only place with ample seating far from anyone else. He gives the back rows one last, hopeful glance. Nearly everyone is settled, friends hunched together, trading whispers or staring at their phones, although one figure off to the left is standing. And waving their arms.

"Danny!"

And calling his name?

The dim lighting makes it hard to see, forcing Danny to squint and shuffle closer, until he finally recognizes Sam. Tucker sits to her left, a single space between them, and their backpacks occupy the seats on either side of them, creating a thin barrier between them and the next students.

Tension bleeds out of Danny's shoulders. Without a second thought, he squeezes his way down the row, using his intangibility more than once to slip through long legs and jutting knees. A few people grumble their annoyance, but otherwise, no one calls him on it.

"Jazz texted and said you were coming," Sam says when Danny's close enough.

"I didn't want to miss it." Danny slips by Sam, claiming the middle seat. "Tucker?"

Tucker only spares him a glance before looking forward again.

"Thanks for letting me know. And... sorry. About yesterday."

For one stubborn moment, Tucker says nothing, and Danny thinks it's too late, he ruined their friendship. But then Tucker beams and grabs Danny, yanking him close.

"Dude, I'm so sorry. I was a dick, too. I'm glad you came."

Danny returns the hug, wrapping his arms around Tucker's shoulders and squeezing tight. It feels good, warm. Even if it doesn't erase anything from the past few days, it's still nice to hug his best friend.

"Oh, what the hell," Sam says. She flops onto Danny's back, draping her arms around him and Tucker. "Thanks for not shutting us out, Danny."

Just like that, the good feeling vanishes. The way Sam talks, it sounds like she thinks he's going to talk now, about everything. Everyone says he should, but after his parents, he's not so sure it will go well.

"Uh, yeah. Glad to be back," Danny says. It's only a partial lie.

They separate soon enough, settling into their seats just in time for Principal Ishiyama to walk on stage. As Ishiyama approaches the podium, the auditorium falls silent. Not that there had been much noise in the first place. A few muttering voices. Whispers here and there. It seems the whole school agrees now isn't a time for idle chatter.

"Students." Ishiyama's voice echoes from the speakers. "As I'm sure you know, we've experienced a great tragedy this last week. Valerie Gray, one of your classmates, maybe even your friend, died in a ghost attack. Despite dealing with ghosts for years, we've never lost someone to them before, and her passing came as a great shock.

"None of us knew, but Ms. Gray was a hero. Only now, after her death, have we learned about how much she did for us. She put her life on the line every day to keep the city safe, fighting valiantly for us. Today, we would like to honour that with a moment of silence, and a few words from her friends."

Ishiyama bows her head, signalling the start of the silence. Around the room, a decent number of students follow her lead, but even more sink down into their seats, as if they're settling in for a nap. Danny's glare hardens when he sees this, thinking of the freshmen from before. How many people in this room actually knew Valerie? How many are mourning the Red Huntress rather than the girl behind the helmet?

He thought coming to the memorial might make him feel, well, not better, but less bad. A little closer to okay. Instead, looking out over the gathered students, his stomach twists. This is a free pass out of class for most of them. They don't care, don't know, and they don't want to. Danny seethes, grinding his teeth as hot anger builds inside him.

Ishiyama breaks the silence before he can boil over. "Thank you. Before the first student comes up here, I'd like to remind everyone that a grief counsellor will be on the premises during school hours for the next week. If you need someone to talk to, he will be here. Your teachers will be here. Valerie was a bright girl and a friend to us all. Her death is a tragedy, and it has affected many of you in different ways. Don't be afraid to seek help when you need it."

Sam nudges Danny at Ishiyama's last word, shooting him a small smile. He can't return it.

Below, Star makes her way on stage, replacing Ishiyama at the podium. Danny immediately tunes her out when she starts speaking. The longer he's here, the more he realizes this is a waste of time and he shouldn't have come at all. He grips his armrests, squeezing the hard plastic as a distraction. It doesn't help as well as he hoped. He takes to scanning the room, dragging his gaze up and down the aisles, catching every sign of disrespect. A kid on his phone. Friends with their heads pressed together, talking softly. A dark silhouette standing halfway up the stairs.

The armrests crack in Danny's grip.

"Whoa, Danny. Are you okay?" Sam asks.

Danny barely hears her, all his attention on the ghost. Valerie's ghost. It looks more like a shadow than ever, with well-defined edges a strong, humanoid figure. He can almost see Valerie in it. But it still doesn't set off his ghost sense, not properly. A pinprick of cold pierces the heat in his chest, spreading quickly. Goosebumps raise along his arms and his breath carries the faintest trace of fog.

"Hey, uh, Danny? Can you maybe stop making it cold?" Sam whispers.

"It's not me," he says.

"Dude, I don't see anyone else with ice powers here," Tucker says.

Danny risks looking away, shooting Tucker an incredulous look, and points toward the aisle. "You don't see it?"

Tucker leans forward, following Danny's finger. "No, man. See what?"

Danny looks back and nearly jumps out of the seat. She's closer, further up the staircase, standing at the end of their aisle. The numbing cold has spread through his entire body by now. He can barely feel his fingers. His teeth chatter.

The shadow leaps forward.

Danny shoots to his feet, crying out in surprise. Heads whip toward him, but he barely registers them. The shadow leaps again. Danny bolts. He books it down the row, kicking a few knees, nearly tripping several times. Indignant shouts and raised voices follow him as he bursts out of the auditorium. He doesn't check over his shoulder, just keeps running. The cold seeps through his bones, sinks into his core. He feels himself sinking deeper and deeper into an icy abyss.

Moving on instinct, he dashes through the halls until he reaches the locker room. He dives into a shower stall, nearly ripping the tap out of the wall as he turns the water on to the hottest setting. It spews from the showerhead piping-hot, turning his skin red the moment it hits. It burns but the cold still won't go away. Danny tips his head up, opens his mouth, and swallows the water. It scalds his tongue and throat, burning all the way down, but the cold overwhelms it much too quickly.

He doesn't want to step out, not when the water hasn't done its job yet, but his skin is bright red and tender, minutes away from blistering. He forces himself out of the shower without turning it off, stumbling through the door and practically throwing himself against the nearest sink. Hunched over the basin, he swallows down the bile rising in his throat. Somehow, he manages not to throw up, a small victory for a hellish day. Once he's sure he won't be puking any time soon, even though his stomach still feels queasy, he splashes water against his face and looks up.

Blue lips. Pale skin. Face bloody and full of despair. In the mirror, Valerie looms over his shoulder.

Danny whips around, shoes slipping on the wet tiles as he tries to back away. The edge of the sink digs into his back. There's nowhere for him to go, Valerie's pale shade looming inches from him. An arm, or a trail of black mist that resembles one, reaches out toward him. It touches his chest.

Nothing happens.

"You're not whole yet," Danny realizes. It's only been five days since Valerie died.

The shadow ripples. Twisted tendrils burst forth, shooting toward him. They strike his chest and disappear in puffs of smoke, able to touch him but too weak to hurt him. Valerie shrieks. Her voice scrapes against Danny's ears, filling his head and bouncing around his brain, but it doesn't hurt. The lights flicker. The mirrors shatter. The tiles under their feet crack and still, Danny remains untouched. His disappointment overwhelms his relief, crashing through him in waves.

He pushes off the sink and reaches out, stopping inches away from her. "You can't touch me. Yet."

Valerie ripples again. Her form flickers, then she's gone.

Danny runs all the way home.

—

The ice is already broken by the time Danny's dream starts. He called them nightmares at first, but now, they're more like warnings. Promises, even.

Valerie crawls closer. Danny is not afraid.

"Danny," she says, her voice soft and calm, carrying no echoes of pain. She stops in front of him and lifts a cold finger to his chin, pushing his head up.

"Yes?" Danny matches her tone, just as soft, just as smooth. He can't help it. Something about the way she looks at him, the way she speaks. It makes him think everything will be okay.

"I know why I stayed." There's no trace of forgiveness in her gaze, but for some reason, he finds it more comforting than unsettling. As if she understands what he's thinking. She's the only one who knows what he deserves.

"Why?" Danny asks, but he already knows the answer.

"Wait for me," she says.

"I will," he answers.

—

Danny does not go back to school. He locks himself in his room, turns off his phone, and refuses to let anyone in. He made a promise and he's going to keep it. It's the one thing he can do for Valerie, after all. Give her what she wants.

One sleepless night later, on the seventh day after Valerie dies, her ghost manifests in Danny's room.

—

Danny swallows a cry of pain as Bertrand smacks him into the pavement. His great bear claws leave deep gouges across Danny's chest, the wounds leaking ectoplasm. He grits his teeth but doesn't worry. With his abilities, they will be healed by the end of the fight. Which he hopes comes soon. He's missing fourth period with Lancer right now, which isn't a big deal, but he has a math test next class, and he cannot afford another zero.

"Having a little trouble, ghost boy?"

A relieved grin stretches across Danny's face at the sight of Valerie flying overhead. "I don't know, I think I've got it handled." Planting his hands on asphalt, he flips himself up and out of the way of Bertrand's next swipe.

"Doesn't look like that from up here," Valerie says.

"Well, you could always come down and help me then. Prove how much stronger you are." Danny wastes a moment to wink and nearly gets taken out for it. Bertrand roars and pounces toward him. Danny barely leaps out of the way in time.

"Geez, I know you're unbearable, but this is ridiculous."

"Not quite." Spectra's melodic voice easily carries down the street. "I think pathetic is more accurate for your display, Phantom."

Danny scowls. "Shut up, I don't care what you think!"

Valerie swoops down while Spectra's distracted, her blaster spitting bullets faster than Danny can think. Spectra's eyes widen and she drops through the pavement, intangible, to avoid the fire. Danny doesn't have time to watch for her return, trusting Valerie to keep an eye out while he tackles Bertrand again.

The stuffy butler has shifted from a bear into a snake. Venom drips from his fangs and sizzles on the pavement.

"That's not fair," Danny whines.

"Ssssso what?" Bertrand hisses. He coils then jumps.

"Whoa!" Danny grabs his head and yanks it out of Bertrand's path, his neck turning to pale vapour.

"Phantom!" Valerie shouts. "Get your head back on and fight seriously!"

"You don't think I look good like this?" Danny pouts, tossing his head from one hand to the other. Everything blurs and he stumbles. "Okay, wow. Don't do that again." He shoves his head back on, struggling to steady himself as the street spins around him.

"Phantom!" Valerie shrieks in annoyance.

"Yeah, yeah!" Danny twists away from Bertrand's sneak attack, grabbing the ghost’s fang as he shoots by. Yanking hard, Danny swings Bertrand around and slams his head into the ground. "Good snake, nice snake!"

Bertrand writhes, bucking wildly under Danny's grip. He struggles to keep a firm holds on him, but then Bertrand opens his mouth wide and snaps down. Yelping, Danny lurches away, yanking his hand back just in time. He flies up to Valerie and takes to scanning the street with her.

"No sign of Spectra?"

"I can take care of her myself," Valerie snaps.

"Sure, but a little help never hurt, right?"

Through her visor, Valerie's eyes narrowed. "Fine."

"Oh, now this is interesting."

Both ghost hunters stiffen. Danny turns, pressing his back against Valerie's, and searches for Spectra. He can't see her. Neither can Valerie, judging by the soft curses under her breath.

"You don't care what I think, but you care what she thinks, don't you?" Spectra asks.

Danny bristles. "So what?"

"Does she think you're strong? Or weak? Do you want to protect her?"

"I don't need anyone to protect me!" Valerie shouts. Under her breath, she says to Danny, "We can't stay together. We won't find her this way, and we still have her crony. You take the ground, I'll take the sky."

"Shouldn't the ghost take the sky?" Danny whispers back.

"Just do it!"

He rolls his eyes, but complies anyway, dropping back to the street.

"Back for more ssso sssoon?" Bertrand asks.

"I didn't get enough of your pretty face the first time," Danny says. "Those fangs are a real good look on you."

"Ssstop ssstalling."

"Stop being so ugly."

"Real original."

"Bertrand!" Spectra snaps. She sounds closer now, too close for Danny's liking. "Get the girl. I'll deal with our little meal."

"Um, ew?"

A bright green disk flies at Danny out of nowhere. He barely sees it before it hits, exploding against his chest and blasting him back. Danny groans when he hits the ground, carefully patting his chest for injuries. The gouges from Bertrand were nearly healed, but now they're seeping ectoplasm once again.

Above him, Bertrand has changed into a giant wasp. He zips about Valerie, trying to catch her with his stinger. She's too fast for him, but, likewise, he's too fast for her. None of their hits are landing, and they're playing an endless game of chase.

Spectra rises from the ground beside him, her hands glowing. "You might want to focus on me."

Danny scrambles back, disks of ectoplasm exploding behind him. Ectoplasm lights his fists, and he swings, aiming for Spectra's face. She ducks away cackling.

"Do you ever give up?" he shouts.

"Why would I when you make it so easy?" Spectra laughs behind her hand. "I can only think of a few things worse than an abomination like yourself."

Danny falters. Don't let her get to you, he tells himself. "Oh yeah, like what?"

"The only thing worse than an abomination is a weak one. And that's what she thinks you are, weak."

"That's a lie!"

"Really? Then why did she send you down here to take care of my little assistant, while she kept watch above, searching for me?"

Danny can't help it. He slips, falls for it, lets the ectoplasm coating his hands fizzle out as he glances up at Valerie. She's still caught in her game of cat and mouse with Bertrand, but in the midst of her fight, she keeps glancing down, at Danny and Spectra. Watching out for him? Or watching to see if he can do it? If he needs help?

"N-no, you're lying." He knows Spectra lies. She never tells the truth, always twists other people's words and actions for her own gain, but...

"Look at you!" Spectra's not even poised to fight now, standing completely relaxed with a hand on her hip. "Pathetic! You couldn't take us on your own. She had to come help you, and you still can't beat me."

"Liar!" Danny whips and ectoblast at her. It shoots through the air, a blazing green star. Spectra's quick to counter, breaking his attack with a blast of her own. They explode when they meet, a cascade of light and ectoplasm.

"See? Weak. You can't do anything with powers like this?"

"Then what about this?" Danny thrusts his arm out. Ice races across the ground, encasing Spectra's feet. It creeps up her legs until nearly her entire body is coated in it, but all she does is laugh and clap.

"Oh, that's a fun trick. But it doesn't do much, does it?" A swipe of her hand and the ice melts and cracks. She shoots into the air, her aura glowing brighter as she gathers her power. "You're only proving me right, dear. You should just give up."

"Shut up." The temperature around Danny plummets, frost creeping across the pavement. His breath fogs the air.

Spectra goes on. "You can't expect to protect anyone like this. A freak, a loser, and a joke of a hero! You've hit all three!"

Behind Spectra, far above their heads, Bertrand splits into a swarm of wasps and rushes Valerie. He knocks her off her board, and she plummets with a scream.

Danny sees. He sees but he doesn't think. Spectra's taunting words pound in his ears, fill up his head, shove all other thoughts aside and blind him.

"I said. Shut! Up!" He bellows and stomps his feet. A wave of power bursts off him, razor-sharp icicles spewing from the ground, taller than Danny. Spectra easily dodges, flying up out of harm's way as she cackles with glee.

Too late, Danny realizes his mistake.

"Valerie!" he screams, echoing her cry, as he lunges toward her, but it's too late.

An icicle rips through her with a sickening squelch. Her blood sprays across Danny's face, seeping into his eyes and mouth. It's all he can see and taste. Her body hits the ground with a thud, nearly torn in two. Her heart beats against the open air. One of her lungs lays on the ground beside her, shredded to pieces.

Danny drops to his knees. He can't breathe. He can't think. Valerie, Valerie, VALERIE! A scream of agony tears from his throat as his world shatters around him.

—

Valerie doesn't look all that different in death. She wears her Huntress suit, although ferns of frost curl along her abdomen, spewing from a gape black void in her side. Pale blue overtakes the red. Her hair glows orange. Not bad, as far as ghost forms go.

"I always knew you were bad." Her voice carries an echo that swells and fills the room. "I knew you were evil. All ghosts are. And you made me one of them. Danny," Valerie's stoic expression splinters, "how could you?"

"I'm sorry," Danny says, because there's nothing else he can say, nothing that will make up for this. He reaches out to her, but she recoils, lips curling in disgust.

"I never wanted to turn into this. It hurts." Her voice breaks. A wet sob chokes her words. Like she's still drowning in her own blood, forever.

"I know. God, I know. It never stops. It's like your broken inside." Danny grabs his hair and tugs. "There's a void and nothing ever fills it. I didn't mean it, Valerie, I didn't! But I killed you, and I­– I'm sorry! If I could take it back, if I could trade places with you, I would. You know I would."

"I know."

"If I could do anything to make better..." Danny lowers his head, shame and regret pressing him down.

Valerie reaches for him. Just like in his dream, she grabs his chin and slowly lifts his head, forcing him to look at her. "Danny."

He knows. He knows. He knows what she's going to say, what she's going to do. He's known all along, since that first nightmare. Maybe he's been ignoring it, or hoping for it. Either way, he won't stop her. He deserves it.

She lays her other hand on his chest, ice gathering in her palm. "Die for me."

—

When Mr. Gray finishes crying, he wipes his eyes and slumps into his chair. "So." The words cracks as it comes out. He pauses to swallow a few times, shuddering visibly. "So. That's how it happened."

Danny keeps his eyes downcast. He knows what's coming next. The screaming, the yelling, the accusations. He will take all of it, already agrees with Mr. Gray even though the man hasn't said a word. It's just a matter of seconds, now.

"You­–" MR. Gray starts.

Say it. Say I killed her. Call me a murderer.

"It wasn't your fault."

Danny nearly chokes on his surprise. "What?"

"It was. An accident. You were manipulated, tricked. It wasn't your fault, Danny. I don't want you to think it was."

Danny's mind reels. This can't be happening. Surely, he's hearing Mr. Gray wrong, making up a fantasy in his head, but no. Valerie's father doesn't hate him. The one person who has any right to, other than Valerie. And he... forgives Danny.

"And if I know my daughter, she wouldn't blame you either."

As Danny gets up to leave, only one thought runs through his head. Then you didn't know her very well.

—

It doesn't hurt as much as he thought it would. The impact feels like a punch, a burst of searing pain, then he's gone.

And then he's not. He's in his room, floating on one side of his bed. Valerie stands across from them. Between him, his body sits, held upright by the spear of ice jutting through his chest. Valerie apparently had some shred of mercy left in her. The spear went right through Danny's heart.

The wound is still fresh, still bleeding, dripping down his body's chest. Seconds or days to manifest, Danny's mom said. Isn't he a lucky one?

Valerie eyes him over his dead body, and he follows her stare. In the middle of his chest, swirling frost creeps out of a black void. They match. How poetic.

"You're not gone," Danny says, lifting his gaze back to Valerie.

"No. And you stayed."

"Yeah."

She doesn't move away, and neither does he. They can't, not without the other following. They have haunted each other for so long, Danny stalking her in life, Valerie hunting him in death. Now, it seems, they're stuck together at a stalemate, neither one willing to move first. They're dead now, though, so that doesn't matter. They have all the time in the world.

[velvetsehun]

Born to Die| OSH| 05

pairing: Oh Sehun x Reader genre: Mafia!Sehun rating: 18+ warnings: violence, gun use, mature language, smut (in future chapters), slow burn. words: 17.6k summary: a collusions of worlds is supposed to kill, but what if it can do something else?

A/N: Enjoy my loves, be sure to leave feedback - this is going to be a long one so get a snack and a drink ;)

TW// Warning this part contains some material that might be sensitive to readers as it depicts scenes of violence, readers discretion is advised.

Masterlist| Next

With eyes glazed over in interest, he watched from a small skylight – the figure of the policeman tending to you while you struggled to keep yourself upright in your chair, he was interested in what had just gone on in front of him. The flicker of blue and red light raiding up onto his curious face.

“Very interesting indeed…” His eyes flicked to where he’d seen the cars leave not too long ago, a gloved finger tapping his lip thoughtfully before his narrowed eyes flickered back down to the lady of the hour, “But, who are you dear…?” He’d never seen a life spared like that before.

There was a meaning behind that, meaning behind the last touch and whisper – he knew as well as anyone, lackies or dead weight didn’t get spared.

“Huh...” He tapped over the glass that looked down at you, his index finger pointed directly as you, your figure now slouched in the arms of the officer who was rushing out to the ambulance outside, a small smirk on crept onto his face, “Well, I’ll have to be seeing you soon, won't I?” He spoke to no one.

“Come on sweetheart, breathe with me, you’re okay now.”

You weren’t sure if you just lost a stream of consciousness after “officer Jeon” removed the bag from your head or if your soul finally left your body, but what you could remember was the feeling of warm hard reaching around you to cut your zip ties and the constant stream of reassurance burrowing in your ear.

“Hey…” You felt a light slap to your cheek, your groggy eyes fighting to stay awake as a small groan passed your lips, “Come on, I’m going to lift you up okay?” You grumbled in response, your head lulling forward to rest on his warm shoulder – he was a safety blanket for the moment.

“Is the ambulance outside?” Officer Jeon huffed out, “She needs oxygen quickly.”

“What’s the matter with her?” Someone asked, he got a chipped response.

“She’s gone into shock.” Officer Jeon snapped as you felt yourself being pulled up into his arms, your head spinning for a second – your eyes peaked open for a second to get a proper look at the officer.

“Huh…” You thought, “He’s kinda cute.” He had a youthful essence to his face, probably a little younger than yourself, but the way his jaw tensed made him look a bit older – sensing you looking at him, he glanced down at you with a slight smile.

“Don’t worry,” He spoke kindly, “You’re almost there.”

You could tell he takes his job seriously; he was tentative to you – not like Chanyeol was, he was more of a friendly touch, this officer spoke and acted like the perfect version of his job description, it was refreshing. Just as he said, you were almost there, before you knew it you were being placed to sit on the edge of an ambulance – your legs dangling out the back as an unknown woman make quick work of placing an oxygen mask over your dry mouth.

“Deep breath now, sweetheart” The female EMT spoke to you while fiddling with the oxygen tank, just as she did – it started to flow through the mask around your nose and mouth, the cold oxygen cooling your burning lungs.

Officer Jeon had no shame in watching you gasping into the mask, clearly enjoying the fresh air as your eyes flickered around the area you were in – a sense of unknowing seeping into your irises. You weren’t stupid, he was trying to work you out, you tried to play the part of someone who knew absolutely nothing, shivering into the foil blanket as it wrapped around you, Sehun’s previous words ringing very clearly in your ears.

“How do you know as once I get out that I won’t just go to the police?” You snapped, but you drew back when Sehun smiled.

“You’re dumb,” He began sounding nice before his voice dropped to a deadly tone, “But as you said, you enjoy living, you think about going to the police and I’ll make sure that seizes to be an option.” His tone was dark, so much so that your jaw dropped in astonishment, words dying on your throat.

Sehun mentioned that the police were on the way back when he was pressuring Gwan to give him an answer – but after threatening you to keep quiet on your end, you couldn’t believe for a second that he trusted you not to say anything, it was strange.

“You only have a few minutes, Gwan.” Sehun taunted him, “I’ve got some friends on the way who wouldn’t like how this could go down.”

“Friends…” You thought, your eyes flickering up to Officer Jeon, “He isn’t…Is he?” You narrowed your eyes slightly, still breathing deeply into the oxygen mask.

The area surrounding the warehouse was a mess, clearly as it was in the middle of nowhere – but the police were all over it like it was a crime scene, dogs and men barking orders filling the frost-bitten night. There was no sign that Sehun and his men were even here in the first place or Exodus as you should probably call them. The tire tracks from the car you were hauled out of were completely gone, the ground untouched – it was almost like you were the only one that was were here in the first place. It was spooky how quickly the men worked but you remembered that this was their job profession, even if it was their profession to nearly kill you three times in the space of a couple of days.

“Miss.” A voice snapped you out of your thought, eyes flickering up to Officer Jeon who was now joined with a slightly older man, “How are you feeling?” Sighing slightly, you removed the mask.

“I’ve been better.” You wheezed slightly, looking at the men, “But that’s not really what you want to ask me, huh?” Officer Jeon looked taken back.

“Any questioning will be done at the station, Miss,” Jeon smiled to cover the shock, “Merely just asking how you are.” You wanted to roll your eyes, but you kept a neutral face.

It was the moral question bouncing around your head that was wracking your brain more than this cop was; do you sell Sehun out? Is that even an option? Or is there someone waiting to kill you as soon as you open your mouth? It was a difficult situation, but you flicked your eyes back to the cop, to see if maybe you could suss him out instead.

“Please,” You smiled briefly, looking at the young cop, “Call me Y/N…” The cop smiled slightly, but the virtue in his eyes told you everything.

Placing the mask down, you took breaths of actual air – watching it crystallise into a hazy fog in the freezing atmosphere, you were warm now despite the bit of the night so with a sigh you looked at the officers again.

“Officer Jeon, I’d like to go to the station now if that’s alright…”

To some, a few pins on a map meant various locations in a city in which a person, and whoever they’re deciding to go, with could visit; but to Sehun the few pins merely told him where the Oh Family empire has sewn their roots around the city. It was a fickle thing really, but a small pin shoved into a tacky map showed some resemblance of his power, even if it was a picture of his crumbling power.

“How long are you going to stare at that thing?” Baekhyun sighed, tapping his fingers on the arm of the velour chair that he’d very much made a home in, Sehun’s office was weirdly comfortable for a man of that stature, “It’s still the same as when you put it up an hour ago” He hummed before he grunted, someone had clearly tried to shut him up again.

“I’m going to stare at it, Baekhyun,” Sehun began, his body lent casually against the back of the couch so he could look at the map in question, “Until one of my idiot brothers give me a reason to no longer stare at it.” Even if he wasn’t facing the brother he was talking to, he could feel his huffiness from where he was currently perched, it was just the two of them in the room.

“Well you’re in a delightful mood today,” Baekhyun scoffed back, “You worry too much, Sehun – sit down already.” That was enough to make Sehun gaze over his shoulder.

“And you worry too little,” Sehun retorted to the older man, “You forget the circumstances we’re in.” Baekhyun rolled his eyes.

“Like you’d let me forget,” He scoffed slightly, “You forget who spent the better part of all day yesterday running around the city for you.” He kicked his legs up on Sehun’s coffee table with a wince, his body was tired as it is.

“I call that doing your job,” Sehun hummed, turning around to stare at the man with a raised brow, his hands leaning on the back of the couch, “Or is the only thing you like doing is giving your witty comments?”

“So, you admit I’m witty?” Baekhyun smirked, much to Sehun’s dismay.

“Just get your feet off my coffee table,” His boss rolled his eyes, glancing at the map again before walking to his desk – Sehun, like the rest of his men, was tired, his body practically melting into his chair, stress had his arms around him.

Baekhyun didn’t make an attempt to move his feet, but he did glance at the map – his brows furrowed as he stared at their turf with interest, it was a lot larger than what Sehun’s father had originally acquired in his time, it was impressive what his son had managed to do in the few years he’d been boss but even now; Baekhyun could tell that the effects of owning an empire were taking a toll on his younger brother, and that had his stress melting off his face as he sighed.

“He’d be proud of you, you know?” Baekhyun spoke plainly, it wasn’t a snide remark for once, but it still has Sehun tensing – the younger man flicking his eyes to look at him. It was rare you got to see much happening in Sehun’s eyes, but Baekhyun had known him long enough to see the pain his irises carried.

“Very proud in fact” The older brother hummed, “Actually, we’re all proud of you…” Sehun sighed at that.

“He wouldn’t be proud of me,” Sehun had a slight edge to his voice as his eyes spaced out slightly.  

“What makes you think that?” Baekhyun questioned, folding his arms over his chest slightly, he didn’t want to press the young man, but he was curious.

“Because I’m not him,” Sehun tutted softly, “All this power and I can’t control what’s under my nose, my father had eyes everywhere – I seem to only have eyes when they chose to open.” Baekhyun sighed at that.

“Your father was also an incessantly greedy man,” Baekhyun cut in, biting his lip as his eyes flicked to his younger brother – he wasn’t his boss at that moment, “He had eyes everywhere because he was paranoid, he didn’t trust his syndicates as far as he could throw them, but regardless he always wanted more” Baekhyun didn’t give Sehun a chance to speak.

“Everything you have, you have it because you had the skills to get them and keep them,” Baekhyun took his feet off the table and sat straighter, “Your father? He lacked the communication; he was shoot first—" Baekhyun was cut off.

“Ask questions second.” Sehun finished.

“Exactly,” Baekhyun hummed, “Your father got most of his turf with war and blood, but you? You kept them around because you know how to speak to people” Baekhyun could see something flicker in Sehun’s eyes but he still kept quiet.

“So no, Sehun,” Baekhyun started with a deep sigh, “You’re nothing like your father, but be thankful you’re not, because otherwise? You’d face the same fate as him.”

It was quiet for a second before a small smile appeared on Sehun’s face, it wasn’t his usual smirk, it was an actual smile – something hard to find on the man’s face.

“Maybe I should promote you to motivational speaker,” Sehun chuckled, a humility to him that he reserved only for his brothers, “Motivation speaker and loudmouth.” Baekhyun laughed at that, a smile bleeding onto his face but he softened slightly before he continued to speak.

“As much as I hate to be the one to say it,” Baekhyun chuckled softly, “You’re too hard on yourself, it's ageing you.” He smirked, Sehun rolled his eyes.

“I am still perfectly young,” Sehun scoffed.

“Really?” Baekhyun teased, “You’re 26 and get I think I can see grey hairs from here?” Baekhyun joked, but Sehun looked at him before he glanced at the paperweight on his desk.

“You want another one to the face?” Sehun smirked at him, to which Baekhyun raised his hands in surrender, “Thought so...”

Although Sehun spent most of his time now with his underboss, Junmyeon, most of his childhood was spent with Baekhyun – the two families were thick as thieves for most of their lives, and the two had fond memories together. Baekhyun could still vaguely remember a tiny Sehun running around the gardens of the Byun estate while their mothers looked fondly at them – something that was very well in the past now, but it was memories like those that strengthened the bonds between them. Sehun was there most of his life, even in the moments he didn’t want to remember, he was there more than his biological brother was – so it made moments like this less awkward than it would if anyone else was to ask them. Sehun respected and loved all his brothers, he was their boss after all, but it was key bonds he knew that brought him comfort. Their world was a tricky one, and it was moments like Junmyeon and Minseok entering the room with a huff that reminded them off the task at hand.

“I’ll tell you something,” Minseok scoffed slightly, throwing himself down on the couch, “Some of these families are the epitome of egotism” He rolled his eyes.

Minseok was one of the few that was from a low family in the syndicate – they didn’t come from wealth or any stature, they were lackies in every sense of the word. Baekhyun could vaguely remember that his father owed one of their families a lot of money a long time ago.

“I see the meeting with the Lee’s on the westside went well?” Sehun hummed with a slight smirk.

“Well?” Minseok jeered, “Jaeyoon remains a bigot, refused to speak to me, it was from the immediate Oh family or silence.” Sehun chuckled slightly at that.

“I assume you got what I asked?” Sehun let a small puff of air that could register as a laugh pass from his lips, “Or do I need to send someone else.” Minseok was dramatically draped on the chair with his hand covering his eyes.

“It took about an hour of bargaining but Lee said none of the casinos have had any suspicious activity, all the chips are accounted for and there’s been no silver-haired man and his friend lurking around,” Minseok sighed.

“But…?” Sehun raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more to it.

“He and the 3 other families you’ve had me talk to are a bit suspicious,” Minseok looked at the man, “And I assume Jongdae was in the same boat as me” Sehun tapped at his desk looking at Junmyeon, taking in the information.

“I assume your little cop friends have been informed of tomorrow?” Sehun decided to continue.

“Commissioner Jung has been tipped off, yes,” Junmyeon told him, “A team and an ambulance will be dispatched to the scene as soon as we leave, but we have to be quick – otherwise we will be in trouble” He raised his eyebrows at his boss.

“You still haven’t told me exactly what it is you’re planning,” Jun tutted slightly, clearly a bit disgruntled being out of the loop.

“Don’t live for the thrill, Jun?” Sehun drawled while leaning back in his chair, he was met with a blank face, “Trust me, please.”

Sehun looked like he was about to spill the beans but Baekhyun felt a laugh bubble up in his throat as Kyungsoo slammed the door open like he always did, a mirror of annoyance passing over Junmyeon’s face as he did at the disturbance. 

“The girl’s story checks out,” Kyungsoo wasted no time, making himself known in the room – a rather tame looking Chanyeol trailing in behind him, “Footage from Oasis’ cameras were tampered with and wiped clean at the same time every couple weeks” The two sat down at one of the bigger couches in the room.

“I expected as much, looks like it’ll make tomorrow slightly easier” Sehun sighed, “You think it’s possible to find the footage?” Sehun quizzed slightly, much to Kyungsoo’s sigh.

“I mean, I could try but I’d need the physical hard drive” He tutted slightly, “It's fine and well to hack into the camera’s but if it’s been wiped I’d need the physical unit that held the footage” Sehun made a noise at that.

“And where is that hard drive?” He asked, looking at the two of them, but it was Chanyeol who spoke this time.

“Police storage,” Chanyeol rolled his eyes, “They wiped the bar completely clean, one of the guys checked it out yesterday” Sehun’s eyes fluttered closed for a second out of annoyance before he looked at Jun.

“So, they have whatever was leftover of our stock from the bar?” Sehun felt his coolness frying at the seams.

“Not exactly, no” Baekhyun cut in, looking a tad sheepish – the conversation turned to him as he continued, “I might have worked a little out of pocket...”

“Out of pocket?” Sehun’s brows raised.

“After Junmyeon and Chanyeol rummaged the bar for the girl's things, I might have had some of the men slip in and get the rest of the stock…” Baekhyun grinned slightly, clearly proud of himself, and for once Sehun felt a small weight off his chest – a laugh passing his lips.

“Normally I’d reprimand you, but it seems you used your head for once,” Sehun smirked, “But you didn’t think to tell anyone?” To which Baekhyun pointed at his fading black eye.

“Slipped my mind,” He chortled, everyone in the room laughed at that for a second before another silence washed over it.

“We still need the hard drive,” Sehun tutted softly, “It’s not exactly the main priority right now, but I’d love to see the full footage – and put a face to our faceless men.”

“Speak of which, where is—” Sehun was cut off which someone else coming in the room, “Jongin…” He continued looking at the man who was clothed rather plainly for once, but that was part of his job.

“Someone’s got a flair for the dramatics,” Minseok muffled a laugh, the rest of the men looking slightly amused, but their boss remained a bit more passive.

“Find out anything useful?” Baekhyun smirked softly.

Out of all the men – Jongin had the best job, he often got to go out and undercover as someone else for a few days to get information, whereas people like Baekhyun and Chanyeol dealt with a lot of the “heavy lifting” or the jobs that no one else had the stomach for. Everyone played their part in the group, but some of them still had better jobs than others – people like Jongin didn’t get their hands dirty in the same way that people like Baekhyun and Chanyeol did, and it was very rare that you’d see Minseok, Jun, Kyungsoo or Jongdae get their hands dirty.

“Well,” Jongin looked a bit stressed while he looked at his brothers, “I went back to the area surrounding the bar like you asked.” Sehun looked at him expectantly, Jongin had been gone for a night and day at this point – he expected something.

“And while I was in a café not too far from the bar I heard some people talking,” Jongin sat down on the arm of one of the couches, looking directly at his boss, “It was mostly buzzing around what happened the other night, but I also picked up on some college kids talking.”

“Does the club ‘Teardrop’ mean anything to you?” Jongin asked, to which Sehun looked a bit curious.

“Can’t say I know the owner, but it’s not one of ours” Sehun looked at Jongin curiously.

“Well, I tried to follow any leads I had in the area who might have been dealt anything by Byung-Chul, and that came up cold,” Jongin explained, as everyone looked at him confused as to where he was going, “But these kids were talking about a new party drug that was making the rounds at that club, what exactly were you sending to Oasis again?” Sehun raised an eyebrow thinking for a second.

“A strong strain of cocaine…” Sehun muttered slightly, the cogs turning in his head. “It was being held there until it could be sold off to some of our more prestige clients.”

“Well,” Jongin started, “It was the only lead I had, so I decided to go to Teardrop last night and check it out for myself.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a clear baggy, a powdery substance clinging to the plastic.

Furrowing his eyebrows, Sehun held his hand out to Jongin – the latter standing to drop the baggy in his hands and Sehun wasted no time opening it once he had it. The familiar sweet floral scent wafted from the bag, it was stronger than it usually was; the main reason they were selling it, but the metallic smell that usually cut through wasn’t there, something was muffling the smell.

“Is this ours?” Sehun frowned, dropping the baggy on his desk.

“I picked that up in Teardrop last night,” Jongin said, “I managed to snag it off some girl, but everyone there was on it – there wasn’t a soul that was sober in the place.” Sehun passed the baggy to Junmyeon who had stood to investigate.

“It smells like ours but also not…” Junmyeon glared at the substance slightly, “Tampered?” He looked at Jongin.

“Possibly,” Jongin shrugged.

“But where did she get it?” Baekhyun asked, clearly confused, to which Jongin looked a bit annoyed.

“A silver-haired man…” He frowned, “I tried to get her to tell me anything about him, but she was barely coherent, everyone was gone.”

“Bartenders?” Sehun tilted his head, curious.

“Silent,” Jongin confirmed, “I asked around, no one could tell me anything, i searched the place for about an hour and nothing - he wasn’t there.”

“Security cameras?” Sehun clenched his jaw slightly.

“Nothing,” Jongin sighed, “It’s like he doesn’t exist…”

“He does exist,” Baekhyun hummed, “It’s just he’s keeping himself very well hidden…”

“More like hidden to the right people,” Chanyeol scoffed, looking deeper in thought than the rest of them, something the Baekhyun raised his eyebrow at.

“Think any harder, Yeol and you’ll burst a blood vessel,” Baekhyun said, toying with the man – to which the man in question merely just rolled his eyes.

“I just think it’s a bit funny that’s all…” Chanyeol grumbled.

“You think what’s funny?” Junmyeon asked, slightly confused.

“The whole thing,” Chanyeol puffed out, “We have to random men able to just walk into a bar, convince our dealer to give them our supply and they distribute it under our noses in one of the few clubs we don’t own.” He gestured to the map, annoyed.

Looking at the map, Sehun got back off his chair to walk to it – twirling a red pin in his nimble fingers as he stared the piece of paper down, his brothers staring at him as he placed the contrasting pin in the centre of the city. There was a wave of silence as their boss collected his thoughts.

“Chanyeol’s right,” Sehun affirmed, “It’s very weird that they’ve managed to pull it off, and pull it off without anyone flagging any up – which makes me think that whoever they are, they aren’t working solely by themselves…” He hummed, tapping the new mark on the map.

“But who are they working with?” Junmyeon asked, “One of ours?”

“That’s the million dollar question” Sehun continued. “How much stock exactly did they take?”

“Jongdae said enough every month that it wouldn’t seem suspicious to whoever it was originally being dealt out too,” Minseok said to him, “It makes sense, we’d notice large quantities going missing, and from the looks of it, they’re using what they did take and thinning down to make it last longer, the girl did say that they stopped turning up.” Minseok looked like he was about to continue but the beeping of his phone cut him off,

“Speak of the devil, he’s just finished doing intake with Yixing at the docks…” Minseok hummed.

“Verdict?” Junmyeon asked, brows furrowed.

“Seems like since yesterday, a few things have gone missing…” Minseok frowned, “Dong-Yul says he doesn’t know anything about it but a few snipers are missing from a shipment that was checked this morning, that and a couple of handguns; along with a few silencers, no ammo though…” Sehun chuckled a bit darkly at that.

“That sounds like a threat if I’ve ever heard one,” Sehun smirked, but it lacked the humour to it, “Sounds like our friends are planning a little heist.” He clocked his head slightly, turning to his brothers.

“Or a take-out job,” Baekhyun hummed, “Silencers...Can’t say we use them unless we want to get someone in public, even at that...”

“It sounds like war to me,” Chanyeol frowned slightly, cutting him off.

“It certainly sounds like the beginning of one,” Baekhyun affirmed, Sehun merely kept smirking; it was a dark smirk that they didn’t see cross his face very often.

“Whatever it is,” Sehun started, crossing his arms over his chest; his suit pulling taught over his arms, “They’ve made the first step, the drugs I could write off, there’s plenty to go around – the firearms though from our stash? That’s fighting talk.” Sehun tutted like you would scold a child.

“Get Yixing and Jongdae back to the house,” Sehun panned to looked at Minseok, who nodded – tapping quickly on his phone.

“Jongin, get dressed – you’re going back to Teardrop tonight, take Baekhyun with you and scope out the place, I want eyes everywhere...” Baekhyun smirked at that, looking at Jongin with amusement. “And stay on task.” That one was aimed at the older brother.

“Our syndicates are getting suspicious,” Sehun tsk’ed softly, walking around the couches to look out his office window, “News spreads fast, and it's already spreading now, they won’t just believe in random stock takes any longer.” Sehun was in his full boss mode, something he’d seen his father do hundreds of times.

“What are we going to do about that?” Kyungsoo asked, frowning slightly as the brothers all looked at each other.

“In still some faith in our family,” Sehun spoke plainly like everyone was just supposed to understand.

“Faith…?” Junmyeon raised an eyebrow, which had Sehun chuckling slightly.

“It seems like no one else doing their job around here, so I suggest we hold a little party soon, have a few… meaningful conversations” Sehun drawled, “And if our little friends decide they want to come… Well, more the merrier.” Sehun could feel the eyes on his back but he had still yet to turn around.

“You want to make yourself the target?” Junmyeon sounded a bit shocked.

“No, you misunderstand me,” Sehun cut in, “I don’t intend to make myself the target, brother…” Looking over his shoulder with a smirk.

“I am already the target.”

Officer Jeon was very quick to accept your wishes of going back to the station, a fire burning in his eyes at the thought of getting information - it unnerved you slightly, but at this point, everything was unnerving you. Junmyeon promised that the police would be taken care of, you vividly remembered that, but you were still being pinned as one of the causes of the shoot-out at Oasis, so really? What could they take care of? It didn’t help that they shoved you into the back of a police cruiser as well, your tired eyes glaring at the back of Officer Jeon’s head, and the other man who you learned was the Commissioner Jung was driving the vehicle but what you found odd was his eyes kept meeting yours – an understanding in his eyes that meant no good to you. 

They were treating you as you suspected they would; like a suspect in a crime, but the only thing they hadn’t done was outwardly cuff you yet – but you guessed that had something to do with the fact they found you strapped to a rickety chair. Touching the marks on your wrist you felt seething hate for Sehun and the fact he left you like that, your lungs still feeling the burn of having your breath taken away by the plastic bag – it was a traumatic affair, but still, you couldn’t knock the fact that he apologised before he put you to harm’s way. Sehun didn’t strike you as a remorseful man, you might even go as far to say that sorry isn’t a word that left his mouth at all, but he still apologised – and that didn’t settle well with you. He did also shoot a loaded gun right next to your head after threatening to do that before, but still, his sorry sank your stomach to the oceans floor. Frankly, you were beyond exhausted, but you knew your night was far from over, especially with the police station quickly approaching – you’d only been here once when you were in university after having to pick up a friend who got too much on a night out, but aside from that, you were pretty clean slate. 

However, acidity was brewing in your stomach from the car stopping, but it was being cut with the intensity of the situation – the two officers up front were silent as the door next to you opened; a man you didn’t know reaching in and hoisting you out like a criminal. This was the second time tonight that you were being manhandled but like before, it was safer to keep completely quiet. The man was a bit rough with you to the point that you stumbled when you got out the car, Officer Jeon’s voice snapped slightly at that. 

“Have a bit of respect, Officer.” You could hear him behind you as the officer that was holding you kept walking – looking up at him, you could see the annoyance on the man’s face. 

It took you a second to realise that it was very early morning – probably about 3 am, the brief walk from the car to the inside of the station affirmed to you that everyone around you was hideously tired, the blue-clothed zombies staring at you with annoyed eyes.  You had still yet to speak to anyone, but you were taking you silence as a good thing – these men weren’t exactly the most trusting of you.

The foyer to the police station looked like it hadn’t been touched by the modernity of the world yet, the dark wood and contrasting white everything else were an assault on the eyes, so much so that you found yourself squinting from the fluro lights that hung above your head – the man dragging you had yet to introduce himself but you supposed he didn’t need to, you hopefully would never see him again, he or the bratty officer who you were shoved in front of you get your prints taken. She was a snide older woman, her face leathered with the stress of the job and the attitude to match, she had your own had pinching in annoyance at her seemingly nasally voice. 

“Left hand please.” She snapped slightly, readying the ink – and glaring at you when you didn’t move, “I said, left hand, please.” 

“No.” You furrowed your eyebrows, looking between her and the other officer, “I wasn’t officially arrested, nor have I had my rights read to me, you’re not getting my prints.” You snapped slightly, irate with the fact you’d been through hell tonight and now that? 

“Listen, kid,” The other officer snapped back at you, “Either you give her the prints willingly or I do it by force, the choice is yours.” There is was. The words; that phrase everyone kept repeating to you, the illusion of choice you kept being given.

“Don’t call me kid.” You hissed slightly feeling the heat rush to your face, “I have been kidnapped, I have been strapped to a chair and suffocated, and pulled around like a dog for days, either tell me why I need to get this done or let me go.” The vein in your eyelid was throbbing with the intensity of your facial expression. 

The awareness that you were acting like a child was minor in the back of your head, but your irritation overruled any form of adult self you had left – you were tired and fed up and at this point? It was all Oh Sehun’s fault, the bastard had put you in this predicament, him and Chanyeol and whoever else he ran with. 

The officer you had yelled at looked like he was about to retort when a hand rested on his arm, the familiar face of Officer Jeon coming into your peripheral, you didn’t break eye contact with the other officer, but Jeon spoke anyway. 

“I’ll deal with this…” Jeon nodded at the other man, before turning to smile at you – but his smile was met with a blank stare. “Miss…” He cleared his throat nervously. 

“Yes?” You were stony with the younger man, stony and far too tired to care at this point.

“Let’s take a few steps back huh?” He kept trying to smile at you, probably to try and ease your anger – but his face only built it up more. “We can talk about it; I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do.” 

“Tell me, Officer,” You gritted your teeth slightly, “Is it common practice to treat someone who hasn’t been arrest as a criminal?” He merely sighed at that. 

“Listen, your case is… A special one,” He said lightly, “You’ve been gone for nearly 4 days after being witness to a shooting, we have to take precautions...” You could feel any life leave your eyes at that. 

“Be honest with me officer,” You spoke with little to no emotion to it, “Do I seem dangerous to you?” You watched him frown at that. 

“Well,” He stuttered slightly, “No ma’am, you don’t.” you smiled tensely at that. 

“Then tell me again officer,” You said, “Why do I have to get this done?” You tilted your head at him. He sighed for a second before looking back at his superior, who looked slightly amused at the situation – Commissioner Jung didn’t seem like a man to beat around the bus. 

“If I may interject,” The older man said, glancing at you, “I believe the young lady is right,” Your eyebrows raised at that, glancing between the two men. Officer Jeon looked conflicted at that though. 

“This isn’t really necessary,” Jung leaned over and whispered to the younger officer, who at that looked a bit taken back.

“But–“ Jeon tried to reason with the older man, who for all that it was worth merely raised his hand to silence him.

Turning around to face you, Commissioner Jung had a smile on his leathery face – he was a much older man than officer Jeon, his age probably equivalent to his title, but for some reason, you couldn’t find it in yourself to trust this man. There was something in his dark eyes that unnerved you slightly, it had been like that since the car ride to the stations, whoever this man was, he wasn’t completely truthful, and you had a feeling that Sehun had something to do with it. 

His crinkled faced smiled at you, “Ma’am if you don’t mind, I’d like to take you to an interrogation room?” You merely nodded keeping eye contact with him. 

You had a feeling it was going to go like this, as Jeon had said – you had been gone for nearly 4 days and clearly, they knew you were in the hands of a gang if the news report at the rest stop a few days ago was anything to go by.  Interrogation, however, was not something you had prepared for – Junmyeon said they’d handle the police and Sehun said that if you told them anything, they’d off you quicker than you could blink, so what were you to do? Jung was the one who was walking you to the interrogation room, and honestly, you hoped to have gone in a cell for a few hours first, to think things over but they were wasting no time. It was freezing in the police station but as you were led deeper, it was like the temperature was purposefully getting lower – you swore you could see your breath in the air at one point. The hallways weren’t lit the best, but it was enough to set you in edge, especially when Jung pull up to a nondescript door. 

“After you, Ma’am,” He smiled at you as he opened the door, it was completely fake, but you nodded slightly anyway, walking into the room with a grimace. 

Having never been in a room like before, you somehow knew it was going to be like this; dimly lit with concrete brick walls painted in a dull two-tone white and murky green, it was a concrete haven. You shoes clicked slightly on the bare floors but the centrepiece of the room was the large steel table central to it all; it was a dark metal with equally dark metal seats, a loop that was intended to put handcuffs through and a tape player placed haphazardly off to the side. It was a table that was intended for 3 people to sit at but this time it was just you and commissioner Jung, the older man behind you nudging you to sit in the solo seat on the other side of the table. 

“Sit,” He suggested as he took a seat across from where you were intended to sit down, glancing at the obvious mirrored window that always rested off to the side of rooms like this – you sat down, shivering slightly at the coldness of the seat. “Water?” He asked, gesturing to the jug that looked like it had been sitting there for hours. 

“No, thank you…” Your voice was quiet as you tried to take in as much of the room as you could, the fluro light that hung above the table weirdly didn’t do much to light the room, but you guessed it was some sort of intimidation tactic. 

Commissioner Jung had a file in front of him that he was rifling through as you glanced around, your eyes every so often flicking to the giant double-sided mirror that was the only feature of the drab room. Much like when you met with Sehun in his lovely dining room, you were sitting on your hands, trying to make yourself as small as possible – a stark contrast to your attitude outside, but unlike the towering gang leader; you couldn’t banter with these people. It was almost deafening when Jung reached over to hit record on the tape player, an old-fashioned method but from then on out you knew your words needed to be careful – people were listening now.

“So,” Jung began, glancing at his papers before looking at you, “We’ll start easy… What’s the date today?” He spoke clearly, as you blinked slowly at him confused.

“October 17th…?” You frowned softly, trying to count the days since you’d been gone, he wrote something down at that. 

“Can you tell me how long you’ve been gone for?” He asked again, keeping a scary amount of eye contact with you. 

“Nearly 4 days,” You nodded, “I was taken on the 13th of October.” He hummed at that.

“Take, that’s right…” He hummed, “Okay, I’ll ask something else, Ma’am – how and why were you taken?” You tried not to let it show but you froze a bit at that. 

Sehun had warned you clearly to keep your mouth shut or else, where you expected to just lie for him and his men under police questioning? 

“I…” You stuttered slightly, “I don’t know why I was taken…” That much was the truth, although Sehun had given you an answer, you still weren’t quite sure why you were taken. 

“But,” You continued, “On the night of the 13th, there was an incident at the bar, men – I don’t know who came in…” You breathed deeply for a second, trying to pick parts out of that night that you’d be able to tell them. 

“They had guns,” You nodded, “I don’t know why they were there, it was sorta a blur after the first shot…” Commissioner Jung nodded, before picking up a piece of paper and placing down in front of you – it was a picture of a man you’d never seen before in your life. 

“The security tapes show you getting ambushed in the loading bay, is that correct?” Your eye’s narrowed at the man, how looked at you with a glint in his eyes that told you to agree.

“No, that’s no correct and you know it.”  You wanted to say. 

“Yes.” You lied, “I was getting another keg from the loading bay…” He cut you off. 

“When someone ambushed you?” He nodded, “I don’t know if you got a look at him, but is that him?” He reached and tapped the picture, your eyes glanced down at the page as a tension built in your neck. 

“I don’t know…” You swallowed, “I didn’t see their face, they covered my face and knocked me out...” Jung hummed again, writing something down. 

“Do you have any ties to any gang-related crime?” He asked, looking at you again, “Family? Friends? Colleagues?” He listed off professionally, a stark contrast to what he was saying. 

You imagined if someone put a thermometer on your body right now; they think you were unusually warm for such a cold room, the sweat in your palms enough to drown someone at this rate. 

“No,” This was the truth, “I don’t talk to my family but they’re a standard bunch, nothing shady… Same with my friends, they’re all normal people…” You nodded, sighing softly. 

“What about co-workers?” Jung pressed. 

“I wouldn’t know,” You licked your cracking lips, “I never spoke to Jaewoo or Mr Gwan outside of work unless I ran into them or I was called to cover a shift…”

“Was Mr Gwan there the night of the shooting at Oasis?” He leaned back in his chair slightly, you were hyper-aware of his movements at this point. 

“No,” Again, not a lie, “It was just me and Jaewoo, I was supposed to lock up for the night, but Mr Gwan isn’t around much…” You moved your hands to rest on the table, the cold metal cooling your flushed skin. 

“Okay,” He scribbled something down, “Now... Can you tell me about where you’ve been for the last 4 days?”

“Shit” You screamed in your head; this man had been lying for you but what were you supposed to say?

“Well…” You coughed, thoughts of Chanyeol, Baekhyun, Sehun, running away whizzing around your head as you looked at the table. 

“It’s okay,” Jung said with a nod, “Take your time.” Glancing up at him you sighed. 

“I’m not sure what happened…” You bit down on your lip, “I was knocked out for most of the first day and the rest… They kept me in the dark.” 

“They?” Jung pressed slightly, “There was more than one of them?”

“Yes,” You moved in your chair slightly, “I couldn’t see them, but I could sort of hear them, there was more than one.”

 “So, you never knew where you were for the 4 days you were there?” Jung asked, tapping his pen on the table. 

“I didn’t know at all,” You were a liar, an ugly liar, “I was kept in a dark room, every few hours someone one would food and water in and that was it…” 

“Right…” The man nodded, “And the warehouse, how did you end up there?” You sighed, cracking your knuckles. 

“Someone came into the room, forced me to stand up then covered my head with a cloth bag...” You grimaced slightly, “I was put in a car and before I knew it, I was there – strapped to a chair.”

“Did anything happen in the warehouse?” Jung raised an eyebrow.

“No,” you shook your head knowing to keep quiet, “I was just left there, facing the door – I heard movement behind me but that was it.” 

“So, they just left you there?” You nodded again at that.

“Yes, they bagged me again before they left…” You quieten down slightly, “I don’t know if they were trying to kill me…” Your voice cracked, that part was true – the plastic bag over your head was terrifying. 

“Did they hurt you at all besides that?” Jung pointed to your hands; you bit your tongue in your mouth at that. 

“No,” you looked at your bandages, “I fell outside work a few days ago into some glass, but they never hurt me when I was with them, they left me alone.” 

“Right…” Jung furrowed his eyebrows, “Only a few more questions left ma’am, then you’re free to go.” You sighed at that, your chest feeling funny. 

Looking at you, he slid another piece of paper in front of you; this time it was a blurry photo of two men, squinting your eyes you had to stifle a small gasp; among the pixels, you could make out Baekhyun’s face, it was an old picture because the hair was different but regardless, it was him. The other man in the photo had his back to the camera, but you could tell they were tall, probably Chanyeol; the two of them were always together it seemed, but the photo showed them in a dimly lit parking lot, the light causing the camera to lose any focus it had. 

“That photo, do those men look familiar?” You were leaning into the photo to get a better look, but you flicked your eyes up to the officer; there was that glint in his eyes again. 

“No,” You lied again, keeping eye contact with the officer, “I’ve never seen them before in my life.” 

“So, the name Exodus means nothing to you?” He pressed, raising an eyebrow; the look in his eyes was the same as Sehun’s. 

“You sly bastard…” Your mouth opened slightly as you spoke in your head. 

“Nothing at all,” You affirmed, “Is that part of the bible?” You questioned; the commissioner chuckled softly at that. 

“I think we have everything we need,” Jung nodded, “We’ll be in contact if we need you, the security tapes already show you had nothing to do with this.” It was hasty but you nodded with him.

Quickly taking the paper bag, Jung tucked them into a file along with his nose that he took during questioning; his weathered had reached to turn the recording off as the door to the room opened, Officer Jeon appearing in the doorway looking a bit more frazzled than you had seen him before. 

“Ma’am,” He coughed looking at the two of you with a soft smile, it was forced but you welcomed it for once. 

“Your boyfriend is here.”

Crunch.

Sehun’s body moved with the momentum of the punch as he internally winced at the feeling of his skin hitting bone, but he didn’t drawback at all – taking some sort of sick satisfaction at the vision of his newest captive’s head flinging back with a grunt. Byung-Chul was a mess, his face bloodied and raw, and the previous hit had just done a magnificent job at breaking his nose.

“I’ll ask again,” Sehun stood back to his full height, shaking off his hand; which in the short time they’ had been down there had gone from milky smooth skin to a blistering mess of red and torn skin, “Who are you working for?” Sehun inquired again, raising his brows when Byung-Chul spat his blood on the floor very close to Sehun’s shoes, it only landed the man another bunch, Sehun grunting with the force of his swing.

To some, Sehun was visually the vision of calm; even though his suit that he’d normally wear had been deconstructed to just a simple yet expensive white shirt and slacks with his hair, while slightly dishevelled, was still pretty much pushed back away from his face. He looked more fit to be at a party or an expensive restaurant than in his basement trying to information from a lowly gang member but here he was, looking at his latest captive with contempt. It took a quick a glance and a nod from Baekhyun, who was resting at the corner of the drab room, for Sehun to roll his eyes; his large hand reaching out to grasp the hair on Byung-Chul’s head.

“You know,” Sehun was right next to the man’s face, his fist tightening in his hair as the man whimpered slightly at the pull; Sehun wasn’t holding back with this captive, “The longer you stay silent the harder I’m going to hit you, do you want that?” Sehun looking down at the man with a mocking look; his dark brows raised like he was giving a choice.

“I’m waiting,” Sehun whispered darkly, yanking the man’s hair for good measure; but when he received silence, he flung his head forward away from him, the chair he was in shaking with the force.

Standing up to his full height again, Sehun paced around Byung-Chul; his hands clasped behind his back in thought, his face was stern with stress and slight anger, so that thought that he had slowly dissipated as he quickly swivelled back around, gearing his long leg back before the heel of his leather shoe dug itself into the gunshot wound on Byung-Chul’s leg in a very swift kick. This time Byung-Chul howled for the first time in hours, his yelp reverbing off the concrete walls and into everyone’s ears – from the corner of his eye, Sehun could see Chanyeol even flinch at the thought of getting a hard sole in a fresh gunshot wound. But how his men felt about the situation was redundant to him.

“Talk.” Sehun snapped at the man whose tears were disgustingly mixing with his blood after leaking from his puffed eyes, “I have all day, but do you?” Sehun taunted crouching down to be eye level with the man.

“Who are you working for,” Sehun reiterated, one of his hands sliding into his back pocket to grasp something, his long fingers grasping onto cool metal “I won’t ask you again.”

Byung-Chul in all his battered glory stared him down, “They’ll kill me.” He rasped.

“I’ll kill you,” Sehun reminded him, tutting slightly but surprised he said anything after 3 hours of beatings.

“They’ll kill me…” Byung-Chul grated out again, before leaning his face closer to his old boss locking what he could of his eyes to Sehun’s, “And then they’ll kill you.” He spat.

It took a second for the words to settle over Sehun but as soon as they did his hand was whipping out of his pocket and the knife he was holding was impaled into Byung-Chul’s leg – the force of the action causing it to slide all the way through his leg and into the wood of the chair on the other side. Byung-Chul’s eyes bulged for a second in shock before he screamed out, his head tipping back in agony, but it only caused his leg to pull on the metal that was now a part of it, the blood gushing from his leg and dripping onto the floor below; a puddle slowly building.

“Sit tight, Byung-Chul,” Sehun smirked at the man, patting the sobbing man on the back at his stool straight, “We’ll talk again soon.” He ended with before the taller man was walking out the room with all the grace of a king.

Baekhyun and Chanyeol who had been quietly observing the session the whole time filed out after him, their captive yelling out his pain to no one now. The heavy metal door slammed behind the three of them as they exited, the theatrics of the room washing off them much like Sehun was washing the blood off his hands in the small sink the kept in the basement.

“Well,” Baekhyun sniped, “That was woefully unfulfilling,” He scoffed planting himself on a table that was filled with various instruments they would often use for the people in the room they were just in.

Sehun was too busy looking the mixture of blood washing down the sink to bother to respond to Baekhyun’s comment; his jaw a bit tense at he watched the ivory sink turn a nasty shade of pink, luckily Chanyeol did the talking for him.

“Maybe,” Chanyeol was leaning against the stairs that led out the basement, “But it confirmed that whoever he’s working for is making Sehun the target.” Baekhyun hummed at that.

“But why?” Baekhyun pondered, “He’s keeping pretty tight-lipped for someone who ran a bar and just happened to smuggle and sell drugs in his spare time.” Sehun was shaking his hands off in the sink before he turned around.

“Money, probably, that or blackmail,” Sehun gravelled out, “Always the motives to keep quiet,” He leaned against the sink, uncaring if anything he was wearing got wet.

“So far, we have only him and your little bartender who knows what this new guy looks like,” Baekhyun was swinging his legs on the edge of the table like a child, an oxymoron to the conversation they were having, “No security tapes, no one else knows that he or his men look like.” Sehun sighed at that. “That…” Sehun trailed off, “Is something that I’m currently dealing with.” Chanyeol raised his eyebrow.

“How? You left the girl suffocating to death, I doubt she’ll want to help you now,” Chanyeol spat out, Baekhyun whistled lowly at that a small smirk on his face, “And that idiot in there won’t say anything, so where does that leave us?”

“Someone’s got an attitude today,” Baekhyun was back to his Cheshire cat ways, which had Sehun rolling his eyes at the two of them.

“Down boy,” Sehun drawled to Chanyeol, “The girl’s alive, you can rest easily” He rolled his eyes while looking at his watch.

“If I timed it right, she should be at the police station now,” He hummed, “But where she is, is no concern to you – I’ve got plans for the girl yet.”

“Didn’t you go out of your way to call her useless?” Chanyeol raised an eyebrow at him. “Why drag her into this?”

“Yes,” Sehun locked eyes with him, as Baekhyun sat with a shit-eating grin at the tension, “And at the time, she was useless.” He tweaked his eyebrow at him

“What changed,” Chanyeol challenged his boss.

“Baekhyun already said, she knows what this new guy looks like,” Sehun spoke plainly to him, not taking his challenge although he could see it clearly, “That’s useful to me now.”

“She’s not your pawn,” Chanyeol’s eyebrows furrowed.

“And she’s nothing to do with you either,” Sehun retorted back.

Although Chanyeol would never admit it to anyone in the room, the brief moments he spent with you touched him in a way he hadn’t felt in a while – it wasn’t romantic in the slightest, but he felt a sense of protection over you. It was stupid considering he hadn’t known you that long, but watching you talk and just be as you have sparked a sense of longing in him – a longing for normality and just a state of being where he didn’t have to worry about watching his boss pummel someone to pieces.

“Why do you care?” Sehun tilted his head at his brother.

All while this was happening Baekhyun was sat off to the side living up the drama unfolding in front of him – they never did give him the credit but Baekhyun was an observer, he may be a loudmouth but it was moments like this he could just sit and watch, take everything in for later use.

“I don’t,” Chanyeol lied.

“Really?” Sehun laughed slightly, but there wasn’t much to the laugh, “Your tone would say otherwise”

“I’m just curious how you’re using her, that’s all.” Chanyeol snapped back, his body tense, Sehun chuckled slightly at that standing up from the sink.

“Don’t worry yourself with my matters, Chanyeol,” Sehun hummed, “Do the jobs your given and leave the girl to me.”

Walking towards the stairs there was an air of a smirk still on Sehun’s face, the tired man making his way back up to civilisation so that he could sleep in peace but not before playfully clapping Chanyeol on the back, glancing at him over his shoulder as he ascended the wooden panels back into his home.

“Electric Kiss could use a new bartender, no?”

The confusion was clear as day on your face as Jeon uttered the words; Boyfriend, but you got up regardless with a nod, following the young man out as your brain wracked every possible person it could be. The police station was just the same as it was when had entered the room, only this time in the foyer was a tall blonde and one that you hadn’t seen in months.

He was still the same pixie-like man you’d known before, except with longer blonde hair and a grimace painted on his usually neutrally happy face.

“Jeonghan…” you breathed, with confusion written all over your face, even though you were quiet, that still managed to get his attention.

The stress physically melted off his face as you walked carefully to him with officer Jeon behind you, but when you were close enough he managed to catch you off guard to pull you to him, your body jumping in freight; the thud of you hitting his chest was all you and felt heard as he practically smothered you.

“Jesus,” He cried, pulling you close as you stood there frozen in time, just sort of smashed to his chest, “You’re alright,” He said before he pulled you back with his hands on your arms to get a proper look at you; his eyebrows pulling slightly at the state of you.

“You are alright?” He looked you in the eye much like a mother would if they were coddling but you merely nodded back to him, a bit too shocked to speak. 

It seemed like Jeonghan was going to do all the talking to you, as he brushed past you slightly to shake Officers Jeon’s hand; the man looking a bit confused but taking his hand anyway as the many thank you’s spilt from his lips. Jeonghan was always a worrier but you were confused to why the worrier that you thought had left your life was suddenly back here now. Officer Jeon looked a bit awkward as he distanced himself from the two of you, merely smiling politely at Jeonghan before turning to you with the same kindness he’d shown you all night.

“We’ll be in contact if we need anything else,” Officer Jeon looked at you before sending you a pleasant smile, the young man leaving you and you boyfriend in the foyer together.

“Come on, let’s get you home,” Jeonghan smiled at you, taking your arm gently to lead you out into the cold, you were still in a bit of shock at what was going on but as you felt the bite of the stinging air you suddenly snapped out of it.

“Jeonghan, why are you here?” You asked stopping completely on the pavement outside the police station, “How did you know I’d be here? Did he send you?” You accused clearly paranoid.

“Y/n, no one sent me…” He sighed softly, “Let’s just get to the car first, okay?” He tried to reason with you, but you shook your head.

“No, why are you here? You asked a bit incredulously staring him down, “Why did you tell them you were my boyfriend?”

“The station called me,” He raised his hands in defence trying to ease you a bit, “My number was still down as your emergency contact, from that hospital visit last year, they called me once they realised you were gone…you’ve been gone for four days.” His voice was gentle as always, speaking to you much like you would speak to a child how was throwing a tantrum.

Getting a proper look at him, your heart clenched slightly as you realised, he was still in his work clothes; his typical hospital uniform was a stark contrast to his skin tone, he’d gone out of his way to be here.

“All of your friends were calling me asking if I’d seen the news or heard from you and I see you’ve been involved in a shooting?” He furrowed his brows with stress, “Then I randomly get a call from the police saying that they’ve found you and that they’d like me to come down to the station to pick you up? It’s more of a question of what the hell have you been up to?” He snapped at you.

You looked at him and for a brief second you could feel your body deflate; your hands reaching up to wipe over your face as you physically felt the stress start to take over your body – Jeonghan didn’t have to come here and that was clear but your breath was still shaky as you tried to calm down a bit. The scratch of the bandages across your face as you dragged your hands down them didn’t phase you one bit as you looked at your companion with glossy eyes.

“I’m sorry, I just…” You stuttered softly, looking around; after 4 days of just mental mishandling, you found yourself finally breaking, your voice cracking slightly as you bubbled up.

Placing your hands over your eyes again you mentally ran through the list of people that you blamed for all of this; Sehun making his grand appearance top of the list and much to your distaste, you found yourself wishing that maybe you would have been better getting offed like Jaewoo had, the mental image of him laying there glaring at you with his lifeless eyes very much ingrained into your memory forever. In your despair, you could feel a hand tugging your arm gently, your body this time welcoming the warmth the hug brought; Jeonghan was shushing you softly as you let some tears leak from your eyes for the first time in a few days.

“It’s okay,” He hushed you softly, rubbing the back of your head tenderly as you weaved your arms around his waist, “You’re okay now…” Your shoulders were shaking not just of the cold anymore, but the overwhelming emotion that had been bubbling up within you the last couple days.

You weren’t sure when Jeonghan started leading you back to his car but before you knew it he was gently making you sit down in his passenger seat, before quickly jogging around to the driver’s side – his car was a lot warmer than the outside that you felt yourself melting into his seats, your eyes glaring at the interior that you hadn’t sat in for a long time. The door slamming didn’t have you looking at him but his sigh as he started the ignition did – his gentle voice melodically running through the vehicle.

“You don’t have to talk to me about it, but what happened…?” He probed you lightly, glancing at you as he turned on the car but didn’t put it into drive, he was met with your imminent silence however as you opted to look at his dashboard and the little trinkets that he kept there for memories sake.

“Silence, okay…” He sighed leaning back in his seat, running his hand through his long hair – his blonde hair now touching his chin, a far cry longer than the last time you’d seen him, “Look, about the boyfriend thing…” He began tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, a nervous habit of his.

“They just called me and asked if I was since I was your only emergency contact, I agreed because I know you don’t have an immediate family in the city…” He explained softly, as your eyes drifted from the little figure that usually danced in the sun to him, “I don’t want you to think that I’m trying anything, I swear...” You sighed softly.

“It’s okay, Jeonghan…” You mumbled, “I was just surprised that’s all, it’s been a while, no?” You tried to smile but you imagined that it looked a lot more pained than happy.

He only hummed with a smile as you put the car into drive, “It has been a while…”

Once upon a time, you’d feel a sense of love when he’d pick you up from random places; back when the two of you were pathetically naive and hoped that you’d last through it all because, in your heads, you’d know each other so long why couldn’t you last a lifetime? But now, you just felt a small ache in your chest looking at you, it was an ache that wasn’t at the forefront anymore, but it was still there like you assumed it would always be for someone that you used to love. Because as the police had guessed, Jeonghan was your boyfriend at one point – it something that had ended last year after trying too hard to make it work for many years, but he was there in your life at one point as a significant other. Looking at him driving you home, you wondered if he felt the same way that you did being in the car with him? The two of you didn’t end off badly but you also didn’t end off on the best foot, he as you had expected him to, had put his work before you – he was also a doctor in training so it was a given, but sometimes you could still feel the stick of hearing that someone you loved wasn’t whiling to put you before something.

It was a childish breakup on your part, one steeped in insecurity since at the time you weren’t sure what you were doing with your life – to be with someone so set on their goals was a lot to handle and while now you weren’t sure still, you had matured enough to know that people don’t always get put first, other things do matter. Jeonghan didn’t bother to try and press more questions out of you or force you to answer anything, he merely just drove back to your apartment in silence.

The police station wasn’t that far from your apartment building, but the drive felt never-ending as you kept your eyes on your ex-boyfriend; he looked nice in the early winter morning, nice and a lot more tired than you remembered, you felt bad that he had to come to pick you up – as much as you loved your other friends, you knew none of them would pick up the call from a random number. It was just dawning on you that since you’d been let go by Sehun, you didn’t have any of your possession; your phone, wallet etc were all in their possession and would you ever get those back? Sehun had made it very clear that he never wanted to see you again, you were nothing in the problem he was currently having. The jolting of the car pulled you back to reality as you realised that Jeonghan had parked at the back of the building where Baekhyun and Chanyeol found you – the car that you stole was nowhere to be found, even though you were still wearing the man’s jacket.

“Do you want me to walk you up?” Jeonghan asked softly, “You do have to if you don’t want too, I can call someone for you if you’d like?” He quickly added

“Jeonghan,” You said softly, smiling slightly, “It’s okay, you can walk me up...” You said gently, almost as you were soothing him.

“Are you sure?” He frowned softly taking the keys out the ignition, you chuckled faintly unbuckling your seat belt.

“Yes,” You said opening the door, “Now come on.”

It was cute to see him scurry out the car to catch up with you, but you were powerwalking to the building door; grunting softly as you shouldered it to open it.

“They still haven’t got that fixed?” You could hear the amused tone in his voice as you scoffed.

“No, I just like shouldering heavy doors for fun,” You rolled your eyes, holding the door for him to walk past you; you smiled faintly as you caught a whiff of his aftershave, the comforting smell he used was still there. “Does that mean the elevator is still out too?” He questioned looking at the metal contraption.

“No, that works” You sighed softly, walking to the piece of trash that most of the time actually didn’t work, “I just don’t trust it.” You confirmed pressing the up button, hearing the fowl ding that it screeched out.

The two of you stood there in silence side by side as you watch the numbers of the elevator countdown to the lobby floor, the peeling paint around the thing wasn’t the most appealing but it was expected considering you lived in an 8 story pile of shit.

“I thought you were going to move,” Your face physically hardened listening to him break the silence, remembering that you were going to move with him.

“Couldn’t afford it,” You gritted out slightly, “Especially can’t afford it now, my work did just get shot up.” Jeonghan winced slightly as you snapped.

“Sorry…” He mumbled as the elevator opened up, the pale-yellow light bouncing off the walls of the confined box, showing all the shitty graffiti and the deprecation of it.

You rolled your eyes as you stepped into the death box, your arms wrapping your stolen jacket tightly around you, reaching out you nudged the button for the 5th floor and listened to the monotonous lady in the speaker announce that the doors were now closing. Jeonghan was lent against the other side of the space, watching your forward-facing body with curiosity; he looked out of place in the elevator to hell, too clean and too put together to belong in something so decrepit.

“Where did you get the jacket?” He nodded to the jacket that was clearly 3 sizes too big for you, breaking the silence again.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you…” You mumbled, tapping your foot impatiently.

“Try me,” Jeonghan smiled softly as the doors opened, his thin frame bypassing you and out the metal jaws to the hallway.

Shaking your head, you followed him out, watching your breath dance in the cold air of the hallway – why you chose a building where all the halls were balcony’s you’ll never know but it made living here so much colder. Jeonghan and his long legs were already at your front door, looking at you with a fond smile as you trudged down the hallway.

“Do you have a way to get in?” He quizzed looking at the old piece of wood.  

“Yes,” You grumbled, reaching down to lift the slab of concrete next to your door; fingers plucking out your spare key like it was a treasure.

Jeonghan was just staring at you as the door opened, his lip drawn between his teeth like he wanted to stay something – you, however, were looking into your apartment, grimacing slightly at the last time you were here. It hadn’t looked like it had been touched, so the police hadn’t been here, but you wondered if anyone else had been? Sehun and his men had your keys after all. Walking in, you kicked off your shoes with a sigh – the ache in your legs from wearing your boots disappearing as your feet settled into some slippers. Jeonghan was just waiting by the door, however, leaned against the frame looking at you.

“I’m not too keen on leaving you on your own, honestly,” He said as you tossed your jacket off, the feeling of his eyes very present on the back of your head.

“If that’s your way of asking to stay you just have to say so,” You grumbled, looking over your shoulder at him, tweaking an eyebrow, “Just come inside, you’re letting a draft in” You sounded like a grandmother as you pattered your way away from him and into your small kitchen, your body stopping suddenly at the door at something on your counter.

“I’m just going to use your restroom,” You heard behind you as you grunted in response.“I’ll make us some tea, just make yourself comfortable,” You stuttered softly, trying not to give anything away but you were tentative as you took a step closer, sending a small smile over your shoulder for good measure.

The lights were off, but you could see a large cylindrical object sitting on the counter – something balanced on top of it. It didn’t look deadly, but you took slow steps towards it anyway, your fingers deftly reaching out to touch it and you jumped back slightly when you felt cold glass come into contact with your fingers.

“What the…” You mumbled confused as you walked back to the door to turn on the lights, your brows furrowing.

Sitting on your counter was your tip jar from the bar, but only this time it was stuffed to the brim with money, you were practically vibrating as you approached it again. You could see through the glass the various bills that filled it, a lot more than you have probably made while working there – and perched on top of it all was a cream envelope, your name very neatly written on the front. Sliding the card out of it, you gulped softly as you read the note, the writing on it practised and neat to the eye.

‘A small compensation for your troubles – KJM’

Your eyes bulged reading the note, your fingers flipping the card around to see if anything else was written – it was clear apart from the writing and a symbol on the back, the same one that Baekhyun had engraved onto the butt of this gun. The flushing of the toilet had you jumping back to life as you quickly scooped the jar up, eyes widening at how heavy it was before shoving it into a random cupboard just in time.

“Everything okay?” Jeonghan asked from the door, as you whirled around forcing a smile on your face.

“Yeah of course!” You yelped out of panic, “Just wondering where I put that tea that I like that’s all” You lied, leaning against the counter, Jeonghan only shook his head at you, walking into the kitchen.

“I’ll get the water; you find your tea.” He was already making his way to your kettle when you asked something else.

“Is the couch okay with you?”

Honestly, waking up the next again morning felt like a dream, being back in your own bed for the first time in days and getting to look at your dull ceiling while listening to your neighbour’s shower through the walls was the height of mundanity but it was your comfort and while these were very real things – looking around your room you were pulled back into a sense of reality. It was about 6 hours since you fell asleep and the sun was prevalent in the sky – it was the first time you saw proper sunlight in days, but it was also your first day not such in a shitty little room with a bunch of people keeping you captive, it was refreshing but also terrifying.

Jeonghan and yourself weren’t up long last night talking, the two of you merely having a cup of tea while he told you about his day – he wasn’t someone you’d expect to have in your apartment again and for a second you did feel a bit normal but as your parted ways and he took residence on your couch you were reminded that this wasn’t the life that you thought it was. Right now, you were broke and out of job – you had decided that you were going to touch the money that had been left for you, not knowing where it had come from and that killed you inside, but today was a new day, and it was a day that you knew you’d need to spend job hunting.

As expected, your body ached when you eventually sat up in bed, your hand reaching to your throat which felt tight and dry; your body had truly spent the last few days going through it, and Jeonghan let you know that when he decided that before you went to bed that he’d clean up the wounds that you’d gained from your forest stunt properly; his professional hands cleaning up your own. He didn’t touch Chanyeol’s handy work on your knees, but you could see the confusion at the bandages being done a lot better than the ones than you had done, but still, nothing was said – it was confusing with him already.

You were a mess when you finally got out of bed, your pyjamas scrunched from the semi-sleepless night you had and your head thumping with a migraine from an empty stomach; it had taken you about 2 hours to fall asleep, your mind too busy to suppress the thoughts of the last few days, and you were feeling it now, but sleeping again wasn’t an option, the clock on your wall telling you it was 1 PM. You felt sluggish moving around your room, picking up an old sweatshirt to pull on to cover yourself from your guest but when you did eventually open your bedroom door it was a bit of a waste.

“Jeonghan…” You furrowed your brows looking out into the living room before listening out for the shower.

Silence.

A part of you wanted to feel upset over the fact he’d just up and left you, and a part of you wanted to be a bit angry that he didn’t bother to leave a note; but the main part of you just felt the tingle that you were alone again, his neatly folded blanket and pillow resting gracefully on the edge of the couch. For felt like someone who had lost their love as you sat on the couch touching the blanket softly – even though a bit of time had passed since you broke up, being around him again was nice, Jeonghan could make you feel at ease. Before you could get caught up in your heartbreak, your stomach did the talking for you and you decided that it was probably best to eat something – the cold floor of your kitchen seeping through your socked feet as you set about making something to eat.

A cup of tea and a large omelette later, you sat down at your small dining table and looked at the junk mail that was piling on the other end of it; a few bills and student loans glaring you in the sea of beige envelopes, getting a job was something you were going to have to do quickly – your bank account wouldn’t sustain you longer, not that you had a debit or credit card to use considering you were walletless. You felt satisfied when you pushed your plate away from you, thoroughly stuffed with food and your cold fingers clinging to whatever heat your mug could provide for you that you almost didn’t consider getting up when the door killed your silence.  Three quick knocks pulled you from your comfort; glancing at the time you were a bit confused at who it could be, but you placed your mug down anyway; glancing at the counter you snagged a small knife just in case.

Tiptoeing to the door, you cursed slightly as you remembered that your door didn’t have a peephole, but you rested you hand on the doorknob anyway, taking a deep breath you readied yourself, the knife behind your back as you flung the door open, your face falling as you saw sight at who it was.

“You.” You seethed as the clunk of the knife dropping behind you sounded out, your eyes narrowing on the person on the other side of the door.

“Uh… Me?” Chanyeol was confused for a second at your response, but it was quickly wiped off his face with your fist lashed out; landing straight on his nose as his head ricocheted back with a yell sounding out his mouth in shock.

Truthfully, your grievances weren’t with Chanyeol at all; there were with his boss, but the difference was that he was here and Sehun was not.

“Fuck.” Chanyeol yelled holding his nose with a wince before looking at you, “What was that for.” He yelled at you, holding his nose in one hand and a bag in the other, the rustle of it prevalent as he gestured wildly.

You glared at him, looking around the hallway before grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him inside the apartment – the door slamming behind him as you shoved the grown man into your place.

“What was that for?” You snapped, pushing him a bit, “You left me to die, you asshole.” His eyes widened slightly but you kept going.

“Pushing me around,” You pushed him again, “Telling me what to do,” Another push, you were pushing him further into the apartment in anger like a crazed woman.

“What the hell was all that,” You shoved him one last time in anger, your chest heaving with exertion as you tried to rip a hole in him with your eyes.

Chanyeol was shocked, to say the least, his eyes wide as plates as you took in your anger; you had been obviously very timid the last time he’d seen you, but it looked like this whole thing had caused you to truly snap.

“Okay, let’s calm down…” He tried to be diplomatic as he wiped the small trail of blood from his nose, you could throw a punch, “I’ll explain, just don’t push me again.” He grumbled placing the bag on a random chair.

Junmyeon was the diplomat of everyone, he did the talking; Chanyeol was often just the muscle that talked with his fists and guns, and if this was anyone else, they’d be floored for touching him. But obviously looking down at you, he could tell your anger was justified.

“Talk.” You demanded, jaw set; you reminded him a bit of Sehun at that moment, it wasn’t often that he got angry but when he did it was terrifying. Except, when you scolded him it felt like a sister or a friend, Sehun could probably take off his head.

“Okay, listen,” He raised his hands, “What happened in the warehouse, I did know that we were going to use you as bate like that, but!” He pointed his finger cutting you off as you looked like you were about to shout at him again.

“But I didn’t know they were going to do that to you!” He quickly continued, “I didn’t know about them planning to bag you like that, my orders were just to get you in the car quietly and take Byung-Chul out, I swear!” Chanyeol yelped as you launched a pillow at him.

“You’re still an asshole,” Your voice had quieted slightly but you still sounded pissed.

“If you want to be mad at anyone, be mad at Baekhyun and Sehun.” Chanyeol tried to reason with you, “I had no part in the planning, I promise” You pointed your finger at him looking like you wanted to saw more before it curled back into your fist, your mouth set into a thin line.

“Why are you here,” You touched your head softly, grimacing.

“I have a few gifts,” He said a bit softer, gesturing to the bag asking if he could reach into it; to which to nodded. Grabbing the dark plastic, he pulled out a box holding it out to you; your eyes registering it as a new phone as you gaped slightly.

“Why are you giving me this…” You frowned, it was the newest model and it recognised it as expensive instantly.

“Junmyeon,” Chanyeol shrugged like it was nothing, “Also Kyungsoo had to take apart your old one just in case anyone tried to track it.” He added as you politely took the box out his hand.

“I…Thank you,” You were still frowning but Chanyeol just reached into the bag, pulling out your wallet and shaking it at you, “Believe this is yours as well,” He tossed it to you, which you barely caught.

“I didn’t think I’d get any of this back,” Your eyes were a bit wide as you looked at the wallet still in perfect condition.

“You almost didn’t,” Chanyeol hummed at you, “Baekhyun was a bit salty you stole that money from him and almost took what you had, Junmyeon stopped him though don’t worry,” He frowned slightly at your shocked face.

“Also,” He reached into the bag, holding a document out to you, “Read this carefully,” He sighed.

“Why?” You questioned, looking at the fancy manila envelope – it was matt black with silver detailing’s, a tiny silver lightning bold embossed into the middle of it.

“Just read it and turn up to Electric Kiss tomorrow at 3 pm,” Chanyeol didn’t look happy at telling you that but you gaped at him.

“Electric kiss? That fancy club on the Upper-East side?” You looked like you were about to catch flies with your mouth, “Why do I have to turn up there.” Chanyeol scoffed softly.

“Another one of Junmyeon’s acts of kindness,” He lied to you, but you didn’t have to know that, “Your first shift is tomorrow, someone will let you in.”

“What,” You squeaked, your eyes wide as plates now, “Why is he doing this for me?”

“Let’s just say, Junmyeon likes to keep all his cards together,” Chanyeol’s lips pursed together in a look you couldn’t place, it was vague, but you nodded anyway.

“I…” You stuttered slightly before you got yourself together, “Thank you…” you nodded honestly, Chanyeol only shrugging in response.

“It’s no big deal,” Chanyeol smiled slightly before a small silence fell on the two of you, but Chanyeol didn’t look like he wanted that.

“How are you doing?” He asked honestly, brows pulling together slightly, “Considering everything?” you sighed.

“I am…” You struggled for words slightly, not sure how you really felt, “I’m alright, just everything is a bit much, I had to talk to the police and –,“ He cut you off.

“Don’t worry, I already know about that” Chanyeol smiled at you slightly, “I’m glad you’re okay, honestly,” He nodded looking sincere.

“I’m sorry about hitting you,” You winced, noticing his kept wiping blood from his nose and his eye was looking a bit red, “I just panicked that’s all,” He waved his hand.

“No no,” He started, “I get it, I would have done the same thing,” He chuckled.

“Next time just don’t swing your fist,” He explained, “You’ll never know who’s behind the door,” You laughed softly at that.

“Shame you weren’t Sehun or Baekhyun then huh?” You tried to joke but the sound of the lock turning had you furrowing your eyebrows.

Chanyeol sensing your confusing reached for something in the band of his jeans, his face turning slightly as he kept an eye on the door; his arm reached out like he was about to usher you behind him but you nearly dropped everything in your arms at the sight of the blonde from earlier walking through your door with a bag.

“Jeonghan, what are you doing here?!” You jumped, looking at him a bit shocked; Chanyeol glancing between the two of you with his brows stitched together.

Jeonghan was in different clothes than before and looked a bit more put together than last night, but his face was confused as yours as he glanced between you and Chanyeol; who still had his arm in front of you.

“I noticed last night your fridge looked a bit empty, so I ran home to get changed and get you some groceries before my shift…” He placed the bags by the door as he kept his eyes on you and Chanyeol, “Who’s this?” Jeonghan locked eyes with Chanyeol who looked like he was staring him down.

“Oh, this is Chan…” You were cut off by Chanyeol who glanced at you, straightening up.

“Someone that needs to go,” He answered for you, glancing at you before locking eyes with Jeonghan.

“Sorry, I can’t stay and meet your friend,” Chanyeol walked to the door, quickly brushing past Jeonghan before tossing over his shoulder, “Remember what I said,” He left you with that before he parted, not bothering to say goodbye.

Jeonghan, who had been following Chanyeol with eyes looked very concerned as he turned back to you, “He wasn’t bothering you was he?” To which you shook your head.

“No,” You told him honestly, looking at the now shut door with furrowed eyebrows.

“He’s my friend, he was just dropping by…”

In a perfect world, Sehun imagined that his men were perfectly well-mannered people who did as they were told and didn’t act like idiots – but sadly Sehun lived in a reality where his men where his brothers and most of them acted like complete fools who just happened to know how to do their job.

“She did WHAT,” Baekhyun howled with laugher as the 9 of them sat in the large parlour of the compound in the late afternoon, talking and trying to unwind a bit from the last few days; most of them had finally got some well-needed sleep as well.

“She hit me,” Chanyeol grumbled annoyed as he held an icepack to his nose, Sehun was watching his men play around with from his chair; a glass of whiskey glued to hand but even he smiled at that.

“Dude, she’s smaller than you,” Minseok snickered slightly into his drink, “How did she manage that.”

“She just opened the door and…” Chanyeol mimicked a punching motion as Baekhyun smirked wildly from beside Yixing, the latter laughing softly at his younger brothers; his posture much the same as Sehun’s.

“I’ve seen you take out two grown men and you get taken out by her?” Kyungsoo scoffed softly, an amused look on his face; something that all of them tended to reserve for Chanyeol, “Make it make sense?” He smiled.

“Did she at least take the gifts?” Junmyeon asked, sitting off to Sehun’s left with Jongdae, who as always decided to just listen to his brother bicker, Jun had opted to have a cup of coffee than something stronger.

“Yes,” Chanyeol grumbled, sinking into the couch he was on Jongin patting him on the back slightly with a smile, “She was a bit confused, but she at least knew where the bar was so…”

“Make’s our job easier,” Baekhyun chuckled downing his drink, “And you get to see her in that lovely bar uniform we have,” He raised his eyebrows suggestively at Chanyeol who rolled his eyes.

“Remind me why I left you in charge of Electric Kiss?” Sehun hummed softly to his brother who was surprisingly happy today.

“Because I throw an amazing party,” Baekhyun grinned, “You’re utilising my talents.” Sehun rolled his eyes at that.

“Talents,” He scoffed, placing his drink on his side table, “It doesn’t take a genius to throw a party,” He eased into his chair.

“You know what fun is?” Minseok jeered slightly but it had no ill intent to it, Baekhyun laughed at that.

“Please, he’s has a stick up there for years,” Baekhyun grinned, “Your little socialite not scratching your itch anymore?” Baekhyun had a look in his eyes, something Sehun nonverbally warned him to cut it out with a look, but alas the man kept going.

“Your little bartender will be working the VIP section, your favourite spot,” Baekhyun looked almost evil as he smirked, “Maybe you can talk to her like a man, I think you’d make a thrilling pair… That’s if Chanyeol doesn’t beat you too it.” His eyes filtered to the other man as he spoke.

Sehun had been putting up with Baekhyun’s teasing for hours now, while he made up scenarios about how things were going to go down, but he couldn’t be farther from the truth. He wouldn’t lie to himself and say that you weren’t attractive, it was something he noticed back in the bar when he first met you; you had the bite that intrigued him, but as everyone knew by now, Sehun’s life was being put on the line here by some mysterious new gang, thinking about being with anyone wasn’t something he was thinking about. But Baekhyun was determined to play some sort of matchmaker, even if both parties where not whiling – he knew he was trying to get on Sehun’s ego by using Chanyeol as a potential opponent, but the smaller man couldn’t be more wrong about how Sehun was feeling.

“Good luck,” Chanyeol cut in, “She’s got a boyfriend,” That didn’t phase Baekhyun, however.

“Interesting…” Sehun thought to himself, trying to imagine who your type of person would be, you seemed a bit too fiery to be with someone timid.

“Oh, how the plot thickens,” He sang slightly as Yixing nudged him with a smile to cut it out.

“Surely he must have been worried,” Yixing cut into the conversation, “Did he not question why you were there?” Yixing gave off the aura of being worried about Chanyeol but Sehun knew that he was thinking of whoever this was could potentially be a threat, vengeful boyfriends were the worse.

“He just returned from getting her groceries,” He rolled his eyes, while Baekhyun playfully cooed.

“Whoever he is,” Junmyeon hummed, “He better not get involved with what’s going on, you think she told him anything?” Sehun laughed softly at that.

“I think she knows fine well to keep quiet,” Sehun smirked softly, taking a sip of his drink; remembering his last warning in his dining room.

Truthfully, he hadn’t thought of you since he left you in that warehouse, but he did get questioned about what he whispered to you; he remembered his apology before he left you with a bag over your head, and for a second he wondered if he really did mean it, you hadn’t done anything to wrong him. Yes, you were just a bit difficult to handle, but you hadn’t done anything asides blow the window out his car, and that sure as hell wasn’t something you smothered someone with a bag over.

“His name’s Jeonghan or something,” Chanyeol sighed softly, as Baekhyun took in that information, a tiny smile building upon his face.

“Duly noted…”

Eventually, the time you had with Jeonghan was cut short, as he had to go to work for the next day or so – his attention being required elsewhere as your attention made the day turn into the night very quickly. Truthfully, even though you were confused at the opportunity given to you; you couldn’t help but be a bit giddy at the thought of your new job, Junmyeon knew some very powerful people if he managed to get you a job at the prestigious ‘Electric Kiss’ it was bar notorious for hosting the richest people in the city, and while it wasn’t a career you still saw it as an opportunity to use. You were that giddy that you turned up to the bar half an hour early, wearing your most appropriate skirt and top that you could muster – it wasn’t the designer stuff that people here wore but it was still nice.

‘Electric Kiss’ was a modern bar that had themes of vintage Europe running through it; from the black, white and silver colour scheme to the 1920s style French canopy’s that lined the outside, it had a very expensive feel to it. The document that Chanyeol gave you, had a small rundown of what you’d be doing, and you found out that things like uniform etc would be provided for you, it was just the case of having the confidence to knock on the front door. It took a second of deliberating but eventually, you bit the bullet and gave two swift knocks, only a second passing before the heavy black wood door opened to reveal a very pretty but very intimidating woman on the other side.

“You must be Y/N?” She questioned as you took her in, she was gorgeous; she had a gentle but also very strong face and an extremely pleasing voice to listen to.

“Yeah, that’s me…” You gulped slightly as the woman suddenly smiled her whole face lighting up, welcoming you instantly by opening the door; it was a stark contrast to neutral face that you smiled a bit.

“Welcome to Electric Kiss” She gestured behind her, her stance gesturing to the huge dance floor and bar that took up the bottom floor of the building, “I’m Joohyun, but you can call me Irene if you want” She stuck her hand out as soon as you walked in, your own taking it in a shake as you gaped at the dance floor before turning to her with a smile.

“Two names?” She smiled softly at that, tapping her name badge that was pinned to her nice uniform; a suit vest and skirt that fit the vibe of the bar.

“Yes, safety precaution” She chuckled melodically as you tilted your head, “Just so no one that comes in can find us outside of work,” You pulled an impressed face.

“Don’t worry, we’ll find you a name,” She winked, gesturing for you to follow after her, “Since you’re here early I’ll give you a small rundown of the bar, I hope you’re prepared for your first shift” She sang softly as you followed after her.

“Yes, of course,” You smiled eagerly, practically skipping after her, quickly sliding through the bar door she held open for you to get behind.

The actual bar itself was completely made of glass so that everyone could see all the bottles, the attention to detail blowing you away as each bottle had a light under it so the glass would light up and glow; a blacklight hung above them so they glowed in the dark light of the bar. Joohyun seemed completely in her element behind the bar as she quickly tapped on the fancy cash register; the screen lighting up with various tabs before she turned and grinned at you, her arm leaning against the back of the bar.

“Let’s run you through this, then we’ll get you dressed for your shift,” She honestly was one of the friendliest bar workers you’d ever met, as you nodded ecstatically at her, her gentle eyes loving your eagerness.  

Joohyun was a fantastic teacher as she breezed you through Electric kisses till system and taught you the ropes of their bar, obviously, you had experience from bars so you picked it up fairly quickly but she wasted no time in showing you the system and teaching you any speciality drinks that they made; carefully showing you how to make them and showing you the book you can check if you forget anything. She assured you that you’d never be alone on the bar for a while since the place can get really busy, they tended to have 2 or 3 girls at any time manning the place unless you were in VIP. She commented with a wink that you would be alone there but if you played your cards right, you’d get tips that would pay your rent for a month.

She overall was completely lovely to you, even when it came to putting on your uniform; she helped you make sure you were presentable and even touched up your makeup for you, making you were ready for the night, she was going to be your supervisor but she was going beyond what you’d expect, or maybe you just weren’t used to kindness like that?

You were left alone to put everything in your new locker when you sent a text to Jeonghan; who had softly demanded to know that you were okay and that the job was safe, he was impressed that you managed to get a new one so quickly but his worrying warmed your heart slightly. It had just sent when Joohyun yelled through the back in an amused tone that your first customer was here, your brain kicked into gear and a smile instantly painting itself on your face. However, you weren’t prepared for what was behind the velvet curtain that hid the back of the bar; the smile melting off your face slightly at the sight of your “first customer”.

“Hello,” Baekhyun twinkled his fingers at you in a greeting with a smirk, Joohyun rolling her eyes softly as she polished glasses off to the side of the bar, you felt a nerve in your neck twitch slightly as you approached him from behind the bar.

“Baekhyun,” You tensed out, the smile on your face clearly fake, “What a lovely surprise to see you here…” You trailed off, wanting nothing more than to give him the treatment that you gave Chanyeol yesterday.

“Now,” He tutted softly with a playful face, “Is that any way to act to your boss?” Your eyebrows shot to your hairline at that.

“Boss?” You stuttered softly, Joohyun cutting in with an eye roll.

“Hmm, surprising right?” She smirked, “Idiots can run clubs now? Who would have known?” Baekhyun side-eyed her at that as you felt anger build up in you. Chanyeol knew what he was offering you and he didn’t tell you?

“Enough of that you,” Baekhyun sassed her back, “Now, I’d like for my newest employee to get me a drink before we open.” You laughed dryly with a slight smirk.

“What would you like,” You rested your hands on the edge of the bar, looking at him while he took the liberty to look you up and down in your work outfit, whistling lowly with a smirk.

“I’ll take a shot of tequila,” He smirked at you, leaning closer to you, “The good stuff.” He eyebrows jumped suggestively, as you smiled at him, reaching under the bar to place a shot glass on it before turning around to grab the tequila.

It was a fancy crystal bottle that was on the top shelf but the heels that Joohyun had given you made it easier to reach, your body turning with the expensive bottle, and instantly reaching out to pour it. A devious smirk painted itself on your face once you poured it, Baekhyun’s hand reaching out to grab it but yours were quicker as you snatched it up; knocking it back as Joohyun laughed loudly at what she was watching. Baekhyun was shocked for a second as you dropped the empty glass back into his waiting hand, the warm burn running down your throat.

“Fuck, you’re mean,” Baekhyun breathed shocked before he smirked, “I want you on VIP tonight.” Joohyun whistling lowly with a laugh at that, as you smirked softly.

“Here 2 hours and she’s already stealing my gig,” Joohyun taunted with a laugh, but Baekhyun merely patted his hands on the bar as he stood up.

“You’re still my number one,” He winked playfully at Joohyun who rolled her eyes at him, “Make sure she’s prepped for the night, I’ll be in my office making a few phone calls” It was weird to see him in business mode but he still parted ways with a smirk and a “Bye ladies.”

Joohyun looked at you with a smirk as he left, “You know each other?”

You rolled your eyes at that, swiping the empty glass off the bar to get cleaned.

“Don’t start.”

When Joohyun said she’d take you up to VIP you didn’t expect for her to take you to a completely different floor of the bar; an upper-tier that looked down over general admissions through a massive glass wall that had a private bar just as big as the one down the stairs but stocked with more expensive alcohol that you almost gagged at the prices. You had come at just the right time; the bar was opening early tonight seeing as they were hosting a birthday party for some rich girl so by the time you were taken up more of the workers were filtering in. You had met a very nice girl called Sooyoung who went by the name of Joy, and by the bright smile on her face, the name fitted her well.

Joohyun, or Irene as you had to call her on shift, had informed you that you would be here up yourself for the night but she would come and check on you every so often; nothing was different up in VIP in terms of the bar except the stocking of drinks and that there was a wine cellar in the back for any customer that wanted a specific bottle with your hands being handed the keys to access everything, including the small staircase that you could use so that you didn’t have to walk through the bar. It seemed a lot chiller up here, the sound of the DJ setting up muffled slightly through the glass, but not in a way that meant you couldn’t hear the music.

The place was lined with expensive couches and chairs, with the odd pool table and regular table spackled around the place, but it wasn’t something you were going to pay attention too; VIP didn’t tend to get messy, and if it did there were people to clean it. You were busing yourself with cleaning glasses when you heard someone over the speaker system say that the bar was now open for business and everyone was to get to their assigned stations, you were set in that department but what you weren’t set on was having a customer so soon, the sound of the bar stool scrapping against the titled floor snapping you into work mode.

“I’ll take a whiskey please, top shelf,” A familiar voice echoed in your ears, one you’d heard it in every kind of light now; whispered, yelled, taunted. You practically spun as you whipped around, your eyes wide as day.

“Sehun…”

[finaldreams1106]

Buried Alive Part 4

Okay, I'm having too much fun for this now, too many ideas for where it will go. I will probably start naming more characters in the upcoming parts. :D

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

Pat was panicking. She had no idea how to deal with the situation. She had thought Jay was just messing with her at first, trying to trick her so he could catch up. She hadn’t expected to hear someone to shout for help. So, she did the sensible thing. She grabbed her brother and ran for home.

Of course, none of the adults believed her. Someone buried an hour’s walk into the woods? Don’t be ridiculous. They had told her she was too old to be making up stories, told her not to mess with her brother, even though said brother had heard it first.

So, Pat did the sensible thing again. She took her parent’s shovel and started back to the circle of recently dug dirt her brother had found. Her sister Sandy caught her, and even though Sandy was older, she was not larger. After failing to take the shovel from Pat, Sandy resorted to following her and threatening Pat with how much trouble she was going to be in all the way there.

When the pair had almost made it to the voice Pat tripped and dropped the shovel, where Sandy quickly snatched it.

“Give it back.” Pat said, glaring at her sister who was poised and ready to run back home with her prize.

“You know you aren’t supposed to take the tools out into the woods, pretty sure you also aren’t supposed to go digging in the woods for that matter,” Sandy answered, glaring right back, “making up stories doesn’t change that.”

“I’m not making this up, look I’ll do all the chores all summer if I’m lying, okay! Please, it’s right up here.” Pat said, pointing towards the small clearing just off the dirt road they had been following.

“So, you heard someone shouting for help from under the ground?” Sandy rolled her eyes, twirling the shovel as she followed Pat the last few feet.

Pat gave in to her sister’s taunting, “Yes!” she shouted, “See! There’s a tube thing!”

“Help Me!” a tiny voice rose from the loose dirt, silencing whatever Sandy had been about to say.

“Mother fucker” Sandy said, then raced the last couple of steps to stand on the loose dirt and plunged the shovel into the soil.

Pat wished she had brought two shovels now but started digging the dirt away with her bare hands. She would take over the shovel when Sandy got tired.

After a couple hours of switching the shovel between them Sandy screamed and threw the shovel out of the hole. Pat jumped and ran over to see what had happened. They could just barely see skin in the dirt, then nothing as blood covered it.

“What happened?” Pat asked, staring at the dark liquid.

“I, I, I hit the leg.” Sandy whispered, kneeling and digging out dirt by hand. “Help me, we need to see how bad it is.”

Pat jumped down and followed suit, clearing the last of the loose dirt away from the mud smeared legs. She couldn’t tell how bad the leg was hurt, but Sandy was older, almost 17, she would know, right? Pat bit her lip and shoved more loose dirt out of the hole as it trickled down around them.

“We need to get help, adults,” Sandy said, poking at the leg. It was limp, unresponsive.

Pat poked the other one and nodded, she didn’t think about the voice that hadn’t said anything more, or about the legs that should be moving on their own.

The pair jogged back home; their legs as tired as their arms as they raced to the police station.

*~*~*

“Sandy, I thought you knew better than to do this sort of thing?” the policeman asked, smiling gently at the pair. But his eyes were hard, and Pat could see he didn’t believe them. He hadn’t believed her several hours ago.

“Officer, I do know better. And I’m telling you someone is buried out there.” Sandy jutted her chin out, staring at the adult. “Will you take responsibility when they die because you didn’t believe me?”

“Are they alive?” The officer asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sandy glanced at Pat and looked away again as soon as she saw Pat staring back. “I hope so,” she said.

Pat chewed her lip and looked at the ground, she had heard the voice. Of course they were still alive.

“Fine. Let me call up some officers and we’ll head out. It’s getting dark but I bet the newbie will come at least.”

“Then get some flashlights, it can’t wait for morning.” Sandy slapped her hand on the desk as she said it, then immediately looked embarrassed and let her hands fall in her lap instead.

The officer looked surprised at her outburst, then shrugged and left.

*~*~*

It took over an hour for the officers to gather shovels and flashlights. Sandy realized as she saw them that she had left her parent’s shovel back at the hole. It didn’t matter, she would tag along and grab it once she was there.

The officers and a paramedic loaded into an old truck and started up the old dirt road, at least Sandy didn’t need to convince them to go hiking somewhere. Much faster to just drive up a road.

As the group trundled out of town and started to pick up speed Sandy saw a lump by the side of the road. White, but covered in dirt.

“Wait!” she shouted, causing the driver to curse and slam their foot on the breaks.

“WHAT?” they shouted back, clearly unhappy with the whole situation.

Sandy pointed at the lump, finger trembling as she focused on it. “Is that a person?”

The truck went silent as everyone else tried to stare, then it broke into a flurry of activity and obscenities as everyone threw themselves out of the cab or the back and raced over to the collapsed figure.

Sandy stayed in the back of the truck, standing over the adults so she could see what was happening. It looked like someone in a straitjacket, their hair cropped so closely it was almost non-existent. Blood was smeared all over their face, and one leg, she realized guiltily. They looked so pale in the harsh brightness of the mobile light tower that the officers had somehow managed to already set up.

“Don’t let them out of that jacket,” an officer warned as the paramedic finished cleaning the visible wounds and started reaching for the figure’s chest. Sandy didn’t recognize them, which probably meant they were the new transfer from some city.

“What? But I need to check for injuries.” they protested, hands hovering over the buckles.

“It’s one of them fancy jackets, set up for Villains,” the cop continued pointing at silver lining that ran throughout the whole thing, “we don’t know what we’re dealing with.”

The Paramedic hesitated a moment more, then nodded, “we need to get them to a hospital, who knows what contaminants got into their bloodstream with so many open wounds.”

The Paramedic, new officer, and a couple of others heaved the body into the bed of the truck. Only then realizing that Sandy was still back there.

“I’ll ride with them,” the new officer said as the Paramedic clambered into the truck, waving off the other’s concerns, “as long as whoever this person stays in the jacket, we’re safe.”

The truck then did a three-point turn and raced to the local hospital, a tiny building more doctor’s clinic than anything.

Sandy watched as the officer’s rushed the body inside, the door swinging shut behind them.

She felt exhausted, after spending all day digging and worrying about this person who may or may not be dead, she hadn’t even considered the possibility that they were a Villain. She wondered how bad she should feel about the ankle wound.

[thegreatestofheck]

Coward //JJ Maybank\\

find my complete masterlist here! If you want to be added to my taglist, let me know!

word count - 3.2k warnings - ANGST, swearing, mentions of death synopsis -  Your mom just passed and your absentee father has come to collect you. But that means leaving the life you knew and loved, including your best friend (and a little more), JJ Maybank. But he isn’t ready to hear what you have to say on your last night together.  a/n - Based on that one scene from Good Will Hunting (which is a darn good movie if you haven’t seen it you totally should give it a try). I know there have been a few fics like this, but I wanted to try it out for myself! You should check out “Borrowed Time” by @ maybankiara for an amazing example. Again, I’m feeling a little meh about my writing, like it’s very apathetic and I actually hate it, but I liked the idea so I’m posting it anyway. 

The night was warm, but not too hot, even as you lay in bed. JJ was resting underneath you, still very much awake as he ran his knuckles slowly up and down your back. You breathed deeply through your nose, your eyes shut, soaking in his touch. Your head rested against his shoulder and you trailed a gentle fingernail over his chest. 

A heavy weight hung around the both of you. Like mist, it prickled against your skin and you breathed it in with every breath. It made your hair stand on end and goosebumps scatter over your skin. You knew you had to break the comfortable silence and say something, but you were hoping to hold onto it just a little bit longer.

“JJ?” You didn’t lift your head as you spoke, keeping your gaze fixed on something on your floor. 

“Hmm?” His slow movements didn’t stop, but you could hear the strain in his voice, even without opening his mouth. 

“I don’t want things to change.” 

“Me neither.” 

You sat up and let out a soft breath, meeting his gaze. With your feet pressed together and your hands dropped into your lap, you watched his face carefully even though he wasn’t looking at you. 

“Come with me,” you said, your voice soft. JJ’s eyebrows pinched together as he turned to face you. 

“What?” 

“Come with me,” you repeated, heart starting to pound in your chest. You had no idea how he would react.

You had known JJ since birth. Your moms had been best friends long before either of you were even a thought. His mom was instrumental in raising you after your dad left, until she left too. JJ had seen the worst of you and you had seen the worst of him. There had never been a moment really when your relationship shifted from best friends to something more. It was gradual, like the a rising tide. You weren’t prepared for the waves to swallow you whole. Neither of you saw it coming and both of you tried to fight it, but you ended up where you needed to be, in each other’s arms. 

Just when you thought life couldn’t get any better- with a boyfriend you adored, friends who loved and supported you, a job you loved, a working relationship with your mom- everything was turned upside down. 

***

You woke to the high pitched cry of a police siren. At first, you thought you had dreamt it, but then you heard it again, right outside the Chateau. Shaking yourself awake, you sat up, your heart rate spiking. The cops pulling up to your house had never been a good sign in your experience. All you could think about was the weed JJ had hidden in his backpack and the whiskey bottle tucked underneath your pillow. 

“J,” you whispered, shaking the boy sleeping beside you. He mumbled something and rolled over, but you wouldn’t let that fly. You shook him again, turning your head to look out the window. One single cop car was parked outside. But it wasn’t any cop car; it was Sheriff Peterkin. Your pulse started to race as she pushed the car door open, her face down fallen. 

“Wake up!” You hissed until JJ sat up, his eyes still closed and his hair an absolute mess. You rolled out of bed, pulling JJ’s discarded shirt on over your head so you were wearing more than your underwear when Sheriff Peterkin knocked on the front door. 

You walked over and opened it before she even lifted her fist. Trying to smile, you leaned against the door. From the look on Sheriff Peterkin’s face, you knew that whatever was coming wasn’t good. 

“John B isn’t here right now,” you said before she had the opportunity to open her mouth. 

“I’m...not looking for John B,” the Sheriff sighed, putting her hands on her hips. You scowled, but kept your forced smile. 

“JJ-”

“I’m not looking for him either.” This time, your smile fell completely. “One of your neighbors said I could find you here.” 

The pounding in your chest froze and you heart dropped like a rock, landing painfully in your stomach. An ocean roared in your ears. You saw Sheriff Peterkin’s mouth moving, but you had no idea what she was saying. You felt JJ standing behind you and as he placed a hand on your back, you heard a high pitched squeal, a painful pop, and then your hearing returned. 

“Did you hear me?” Sheriff Peterkin asked, her eyes showing her concern. Mouth dry, you shook your head, your hand curling around the door you leaned on for support. Sheriff Peterkin sighed and lowered her head. 

“Last night, someone broke into your house,” Peterkin said. You felt yourself breathe in a single deep breath and you were pretty sure that was your last. “They didn’t know that your mom was gonna be home and she...she didn’t make it.”

You stared at her, the ocean beginning to roar again. You could hear that JJ was asking her something, but you had no idea what he had said. Knees wobbling underneath you, you fought against the painful twisted of your heart in your chest. Your throat swelled until it shut completely. 

The world spun around you. Peterkin’s face stretched and shifted, the trees behind her seeming to crawl out of the dirt they were rooted into. Even with JJ’s hand on the small of your back, you felt like he was a thousand miles away from you, his voice a dull, distant hum. 

The pity in Peterkin’s eyes shifted into a look of worry. You didn’t realize you were falling until JJ’s hands were underneath you and the Sheriff was leaning forward to catch you before you hit the ground. 

Staring up at the ceiling, the sound had yet to return to your ears, the pain in your chest still stabbing, the world still warping around you. JJ was holding you in his lap, one hand on the side of your face. When you could see well enough, you could tell that he was terrified. Blue eyes wide, his lips trembled as he spoke to you, saying things you would never be able to hear. 

Peterkin was kneeling beside you, careful not to touch you at all. 

“...to the station....” You heard her say through the waves that crashing somewhere deep in your mind. 

“...the hospital!...see her mom....”

There was a deep, heavy sigh. 

“...breathing?” 

“I....know. Baby...?”

You shut your eyes, your mind completely blank. The universe was bearing down upon you, pressing against you with the weight of every star, every planet, every moon. Not a single breath made it into your lungs, that invisible weight too much to bear. And not single thought passed through your head. 

A breath forced its way into your lungs and you opened your eyes with a gasp. The scene was not the same one that you left. Instead of JJ and Sheriff Peterkin standing above you, a woman in blue leaned over you. 

“Can you hear me, honey?” she asked, her face dead calm. You rolled your head back and forth, squeezing your eyes back together. “Keep your eyes open for me, hon.” 

“What’s going on?” the worried voice of JJ asked. “What’s wrong with her?”

“Blood pressure dropped,” the woman in blue said simply. “She’s going to be fine, but I’m going to take her to the hospital anyway.” 

“Can I come?” 

“He can ride with me,” Sheriff Peterkin said. 

You tried to swallow, but your mouth was so dry, you could barely even close it. But you were breathing again and the world wasn’t twisting around you anymore. 

“Let me help you up,” the woman in blue said, lifting your arm up to drape over her shoulders. She helped you to stand. Immediately, a wave of nausea washed over you, but the woman held you tight. 

You glanced over at JJ, whose eyes were even wider than they were before, if that was even possible. He took a step toward you to help, but Peterkin put a hand around his arm to hold him back.

“We’ll meet you at the hospital,” Peterkin told the woman, who nodded your head. 

Kildare didn’t technically have ambulances, so the woman in blue, an EMT, drove you to the hospital in the back of her car. You were laying in the back seat, your hand grazing the sandy floor. You stared at the loose threads on the back of her chair, your stomach still a whirlwind of uneasiness. 

She walked you into the hospital, her arms around your shoulders. Your knees didn’t wobble so much and your breathing was far more steady, but the world passed around you at a thousand miles a minute. 

It was like one of those nightmares where you needed to be somewhere, but your feet were slowly sinking into the ground like molasses. It didn’t matter how fast you tried to move, you could barely lift your feet. 

You weren’t sure if the EMT meant to walk you right past your mother, but she did. You weren’t really looking for her, but when you lifted your head at the sound of a shout, you saw her lifeless form lying in the hospital bed. 

You couldn’t remember much of what happened after that. You could remember the sound of your own screams echoing off of the hospital walls. You could remember how hot your skin felt, but how cold the air was around you. You could remember JJ running over to you, shoving doctor’s out of the way to wrap you up in his arms. 

Your relationship with your mom was just beginning to mend. After years of tiptoeing around each other, you had finally had a heart to heart, finally decided to try to show each other the love you knew the other deserved. If only you hadn’t gone over to the Chateau that night. If only you had been there. Maybe you could have protected her. Maybe you could have kept her safe. 

JJ never once let go of you after that. They tried to pry him away, but he refused. You clung to him, your nails digging into his skin without realizing it. He was your last lifeline, your only breath of fresh air. If they took him away, you weren’t sure what would happen to you. 

The two of you listened to Peterkin tell you that your dad had been contacted, that he was flying out to North Carolina now. You were under his guardianship now. If he chose to take you home with him, he could. Otherwise, it was to the foster system with you. 

Either way, you were going to be separated from the only family you had left. When your dad landed on Kildare, his choice was to bring you back to California with him. You hadn’t seen this man since you were three years old, you didn’t even recognize him, but he was legally allowed to take you away? He gave you until after the funeral. 

And that was how you ended up in a hotel room bed with JJ sitting beside you. The time you always thought you had was coming to an end. The eternity that the Outer Banks seemed wrapped in turned out to be temporal, finite. 

You were leaving, and there was nothing you or JJ could do about it. 

***

“Come with me.” 

JJ watched you carefully for a few moments before he let out a quiet laugh. 

“I can’t do that,” he said. You shut your mouth and swallowed. 

“Why...why not?”

He sat up with a sigh. 

“My whole life is here. I can’t just leave.” 

You sat back. Of course you knew what he was saying. Your entire life was here too, but you didn’t get to have a choice. You chewed on your lip. He had no reason to come with you and that made you irrevocably angry. He got the choice to stay, you didn’t. It wasn’t fair. 

“The funeral is tomorrow,” you said, fighting back the tears that sprang into your eyes. “My dad’s taking me after that.” 

“I know.” 

“This is our last night together.” 

“I know.” 

You stood up suddenly, an overbearing wave of emotion struck your heart. 

“Goddammit, J!” You ran your hands through your hair, turning your back on him. 

“What?” He sounded offended. 

“I don’t know! I guess I just thought you would fight a little harder for me.” The words you were saying were unfair and you knew that, but that didn’t stop them from coming from your mouth. JJ scowled and pushed himself out of the bed too. 

“I don’t know why you want me to come with you anyway,” he said, a frown etched onto his face. 

“You don’t-” Your scoff was bitter. “J, I love you! That’s why I want you to come with me.” 

Your words seemed to freeze him solid. The frown that was on his face just seconds before was gone, replaced by something you hated so much more; apathy. 

“Don’t say that.”

You took a step back, scoffing again. 

“What? I’m not supposed to tell you how I feel?”

“No!” 

“Well, suck it up because I love you.” 

You watched his hands curl into fists, his jaw shifting as he looked away. 

“No, you don’t.”

“You don’t get to tell me what I feel,” you told him, your voice darkening. “I get to tell you what I feel.” 

But JJ refused to look at you. 

The entirety of your relationship, he had always avoided talking to you about his feelings. It was usually fine because you could read him like an open book, but this time you couldn’t let it go. This was the last time you were likely to ever see him and you would be damned before you let him out of your life without knowing full well how much he meant to you. And you couldn’t let him walk out the door without knowing how he felt about you. 

“Tell me just one thing.” Your voice broke against your will and tears brewed in your eyes like a storm. “J, do you love me?” 

He looked up at you suddenly, his blue eyes piercing right through you. 

“I don’t love anyone.” 

That lit a fire somewhere deep in your belly. Your hands started to shake, his words cutting through your skin like a knife. 

“Don’t bullshit me, Maybank.” Your lips trembled as you struggled to control your emotions. “You don’t love me? Fine. But don’t you lie and say you don’t love John B or Pope or Kie. I know they mean the world to you.”

“That’s different.”

“It’s the same fucking thing.”

He fell silent, but you could see the anger that was smoldering in his eyes. You were tugging at strings he had kept tucked away for so long, strings that you let him keep to himself. He didn’t say anything. Instead, he yanked his shirt off of the bed and started for the door. You whirled around toward him, heart beating in your ears. 

“You’re a fucking coward, JJ Maybank,” you cried after him, tears springing into your eyes. His hand was on the doorknob. “A fucking coward.” 

He froze where he was. Every muscle in his body tensed, his hand shifting around the doorknob. You waited for him to say something or at least turn around, but the wait was long. Too long for your comfort. 

“What do you want from me?” He asked finally, his voice low and shaking with each word. Every part of your body trembling, you gave your shoulders a little, weary shrug. 

“I want you to be honest with yourself-”

“Honest with myself? What the hell does that even mean?” He turned around to face you, his entire being ablaze with fury. 

“I don’t fucking know!” You threw a hand in the air. “Why can’t you just talk to me for once? For once in your goddamn life, open up to someone!”

He walked toward you like a bull, but you weren’t about to back down. 

“You want to talk, huh? You want to talk about the fact that I wake up every goddamn day in fear for my life?”

“I didn’t know that.”

“You want to talk about how the only time I can sleep is when there’s someone else sleeping beside me and that’s why I’ve fucked half the girls on this island? So I don’t wake up alone every morning?”

“I didn’t know that.” Your voice broke and you felt that all too familiar feeling of tears in your eyes. 

“Why the hell would you want to talk about that shit?” 

“Because I love you and I want to help you! Is that a fucking crime?” 

“Stop saying that!” 

He put his hands over his ears as if to shut out your words, turning his back on you. You weren’t going to let him walk out on you now. 

“No,” you said, stepping toward him. You put a hand on his shoulder and made him turn to face you again. With his jaw tight, you could tell he was warning you to back off. “I’m not running away just because you snarled your puppy dog teeth at me.”

You could see the walls somewhere deep in his eyes start to crumble. But his face didn’t change. 

“I need you to know that if I had the choice, I would stay,” you told him. “I would stay here...with you.”

“Why are you saying this?”

You lifted your hands to his face, but he flinched so you dropped them back down to your side. 

“Not everyone is going to break your heart,” you said quietly. “I wouldn’t if I could help it.”

JJ looked away from you, bouncing on his feet. 

“I want you to stay.”

This time, you couldn’t stop the tears as they filled your eyes. They came too fast. A quiet sob came from your mouth as you looked down. 

“I can’t.”

“Then what’s the fucking point?” You looked up at him. Despite the calmness in his voice, you could hear the heartbreak. “You can’t stay and I can’t go with you. So, what’s the point?” 

You sucked in a shuddered breath and looked down at your feet. You didn’t have an answer for him. A part of you just wanted to make sure that he was going to be okay when you were gone, but you knew that he wasn’t going to be. You just prayed to God that the Pogues made sure to take care of him. 

You didn’t look up, even when he took a few steps away from you. Tears rolled down your cheeks. You couldn’t remember the last time you actually cried. Now, you just couldn’t help it. 

You heard the door of the hotel room open, but you still didn’t look up. The door slammed behind him and you knew he was gone. 

The only sound in your hotel room was the sound of you gasping for breath between sobs. When your legs couldn’t hold you up any longer, you fell to your knees, letting the emotions flow out of you. 

Your lifeline, your last breath of air, had just walked out the door and you did nothing to stop him. 

[holylulusworld]

One loose end

Summary: Dean ends things when he gets to know the truth about you. He didn’t realize he lost more than the omega he loves.

Pairing: Mobster! (Alpha)Dean x Ex-cop!(Omega)Reader

Characters: Sam Winchester, Benny Lafitte, Jack Kline, Charlie Bradbury

Warnings: angst, language, abandonment, Dean being a douche, mafia business, A/B/O, A/B/O dynamics, suffering omega, loneliness, unplanned pregnancy, threats, nesting

Dean leans back in his chair, legs spread he lets his eyes travel down your body, making you feel exposed and vulnerable. Forgotten are your strength or past when you face your alpha, the man holding your heart and body in a tight grip.

“Do you know why I summoned you here,” he’s using his alpha voice and you wonder why your fiancé looks angrily up at you. His green eyes darker than usual he licks his lips. “Answer me, omega.”

“I don’t know, Dean,” he growls, even grits his teeth as you did not address him with his presentation, and you wonder what rubbed Dean wrong. Usually, he’s all soft around you. Most of the time he only lets the alpha out to protect you or scare other alphas off. “Benny said I shall come to your office, so here I am alpha,” you add his presentation to calm the angry mobster. He’s not in a good mood so you try to walk on eggshells and make him feel better.

“You see,” he gets up, scraping the chair over the floor, making you flinch when he suddenly stands in front of you to roughly grab your chin with his hand. Dean forces you to me his eyes and you know – something is wrong with your alpha. “I heard not so nice things about you…”

“Boss,” Benny tries to intervene but Amara holds him back, watching the alpha, her boss with angry eyes.

“Not so nice things,” you huff, patting the hand which tightens the grip on your chin. “Whatever you heard, just tell me about it. I know we came a long way, okay. Not everyone liked that I’m an ex-cop. In your kind of business, I’m the enemy. But that’s in the past…”

“Is it?” Dean furrows his brows, still not letting go of your chin. “I heard differently last week. You know, I didn’t want to believe the rumors or the pictures. I even refused to watch the footage someone sent to me but the fact that you met up with Ellen Harvelle not three hours ago proved me wrong…”

“Ellen?” you blink a few times. “Yes, I met up with her, Dean. I told you so this morning. As usual, you didn’t listen but Sam was there too. Ask your brother,” you slowly get angry. People might think you are an obedient omega, always following Dean’s order but truth to be told, you’re a stubborn bitch when someone crosses a line.

“You met up with a goddamn cop,” Dean grasps for your phone, slipping it into his pocket. “I should’ve known better. Ex-cop, investigating my family and our business is in the past my ass,” your hands start to twitch when Dean pants into your face.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Dean. Ellen retired around fifteen years ago. Right after her husband got killed. It was his partner; a corrupt cop and she just couldn’t trust anyone at her department any longer. My father was a good friend of Bill and Ellen. She’s my godmother for fuck’s sake.”

“A good cover, I must admit,” Dean’s nostrils flare and you know, he’s not making a bad joke. Dean Winchester, the head of the Winchester empire is threatening you, his omega. “Did they pay you well for being undercover for that long, for spreading your legs for me?” Your hand hits Dean’s face before your brain can stop you.

“I told you about my job, Dean. It was me coming to you, telling you about my assignment. I quit my job, gave up my friends who were all cops. The only person left in my left is Ellen, I told you so before we became a thing. You knew about her past too. She’s the only family I got left,” tears well up to your eyes but you blink them away.

The vulnerable omega whines in despair but the independent woman shields her from any harsh word leaving Dean’s lips. “If not for your connection to that woman, you would be dead by now.” You gasp, stepping backward. For a moment you just look at Dean, at the alpha you believed would claim you after your wedding but now you realize, he never intended on doing so.

“It was a trick,” you slide the engagement ring down your finger, carelessly dropping it to the floor. “You tricked me. When I came to you, telling you after that drunken one-night stand who I am you took the opportunity to snake your way into my life.” Laughing bitterly, you close your eyes, calming your nerves for a moment.

“That wasn’t my intention,” Dean grunts, not missing the tremble in your voice or the way your lips quiver.

“Newsflash, Winchester,” your eyes are cold when you open them again. “I’m not undercover. I don’t have any connections to cops or feds. All I got is a retired godmother who hates her former job,” you shake your head, not believing you were foolish enough to believe you found your alpha. 

“I want you gone, now. I’ll drop your shit at any place but go before I change my mind and kill you,” the gun in Dean’s hands leaves no room for arguments so you turn your back on him, forget the good news and happiness.

“I hate you, Dean. For once I believed someone didn’t try to use me to his advantage. Sadly, I was wrong all over again. If I ever see you again, you’ll regret it,” you leave the room, flee toward the exit almost bumping into Sam.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Sam gasps seeing the tears run down your cheeks. “What happened? Wait…wait up…”

“Ask your asshole of a brother. Keep that piece of shit away from me or he’s dead…” you spat, pushing the omega you let out only for Dean back into the pit of your existence.

“Two months and you found a whole lot of nothing, Dean,” Sam leans against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. “Jesus, Y/N didn’t lie. Ellen Harvelle retired fifteen years ago, got a bar called ‘the roadhouse’ and doesn’t give any cop a discount,” Benny sighs, looking at Charlie who shrugs.

“Boss, I didn’t find any trace. No bugs, manipulated e-mails, calls to unknown numbers. I got nothing either,” Charlie clears her throat, shoving a manila folder toward Dean. “Ellen Harvelle is clean, just like her daughter. Y/N didn’t contact anyone but you, Ellen, your brother, and her doctor.”

“Doctor,” cocking a brow Dean looks at the folder. “Maybe that doctor is a cop?” Sam scoffs, pushing off the wall. He looks at his brother shaking his head before he turns to leave the room. 

“Unbelievable, Dean!” Sam throws his hands up in surrender. “You chased the only girl who never cared about your reputation or money away. Your omega, Dean! How could you be that stupid?”

“She’s a traitor! I just know it,” Dean yells now, not giving in. “It must be or else I would’ve…”

“Yeah, lost the only woman you ever loved. You and your hasty decisions, Dean. I wonder if she would ever take your stubborn ass back,” Sam slams the door shut behind him, not caring his brother will be mad at him.

“Five and a half month later,

Most of the days are good days. Well, not good, but you get through them without crying or your instinct telling you to crawl back to Dean.

Today is not such a day. Today you stand in the middle of a shop for synthetic scents. “How can I help you, ma’am,” a young boy asks, and you wonder if he’s old enough to work at such a place. “I know I look young, but I know my job. I’m Jack Kline and would like to help you.”

“I need a scent,” you swallow the lump in your throat, slowly opening your coat. “My alpha, he left me. I’m an abandoned omega, a pregnant one. The first months I could get by without his scent, but it gets worse.”

“We will need a blood sample of you. This way we can find a matching scent to make you feel more comfortable, ma’am,” the young man smiles, pointing toward a chair. “It won’t hurt, promised. You are not the only one coming here. Even strong and tall alphas come her to get a scent.”

“I’m not ashamed, just…,” you shrug, not knowing how to describe the loneliness or how it feels to know your child will never get to know his father. Even worse, that you were simply a pawn in Dean Winchester’s masterplan. “Just tell me what I must do.”

“Hello, I’m looking for a specific scented candle,” an alpha calls for Jack. “My mate, she’s so in love with that scent…” Sam stops in his tracks when his eyes land on Jack who wants to push a needle into your arm. “Whoa, hands-off, bastard.”

Sam aims a gun at Jack’s head, unlocking it. “Get away from Y/N or you are dead before you can hurt her. How can you be that stupid to attack Dean Winchester’s mate in the middle of a store?”

“Sam,” you scream, jumping up to shield the boy with your body. “He wanted to take a blood sample, not kill me. Are you crazy?” you pant, resting one hand onto your belly. 

“Y/N?” Sam’s eyes drop to your baby bump and his features soften. “You’re expecting. Oh-fuck, no. Does Dean know?”

“Why should the great and all-knowing Dean Winchester be interested in getting to know he got me pregnant with his child before he threatened to kill me. Let me tell you this, Sam Winchester,” you get your favorite knife out of your garter, pressing the tip into Sam’s chest. “If you tell him you saw me or the pup in my belly, you are dead. Now leave me alone. I need this scent…”

“You’re suffering, Y/N,” ignoring Sam’s words and his worried look you turn your attention back toward Jack. “Let me help you.”

“There is nothing you can do, Sam. It’s done. Whatever Dean and I had, is dead and gone since he threatened to kill me. I should’ve known he used me. No alpha wants to wait until the wedding to claim his mate,” you wave your hand, sending Sam off. “I’m only a loose end to your brother. If you excuse me now…”

“Not that bad,” you sniff at the pillow before you add more of the synthetic scent onto the clothes on your nest. “It’s not your fathers but it’ll do,” you rub your belly, watching one of your dog’s lie next to the bed. “Good boy, always so protective, Morning.”

Your German shepherd whines, before slowly getting up to trot toward the door. “Star,” you call for your dog when Morning dashes out of the room to attack whoever dared to enter your apartment.

“Get off me you son of a bitch,” Dean barks, fighting your dogs. Whilst Morning circles the mobster like prey, Star already sinks her teeth into his pants, tugging at the fabric, tearing it apart. “Y/N, tell the dogs to back off.”

“Morning, Star, kill him,” voice cold you cover your body with your blanket, ignoring Dean calls your name, begs you to stop your dogs. 

“I will kill them if you do not stop them,” snarling Dean gets his gun out and you click your tongue. “Morning, Star, come here, protect mommy.”

“Fucking shit, Y/N,” Dean limps into your bedroom, glaring at the dogs who flank your bed. Teeth gritted, eyes following the alpha the German shepherds protect you and your unborn child. “Good dogs. Fine dogs. I got a steak in my trunk.”

“What do you want here?” you do not turn around, rather snuggle into your pillow to inhale the synthetic scent Jack gave you. “I thought I clarified you are dead if you ever come close to me again.”

“That’s my child inside of you. Now be good and pack your things,” Dean purrs, looking at you. He believes your omega will give in, will follow his order but you chuckle at his words, clicking your tongue.

“No…no…not again!” Star pounces on Dean, pushes him to the ground with her weight. “Y/N, please tell that beast to get off me.”

“Morning, give him the rest,” Morning trots toward Dean, purring for a moment before he starts to lick Dean’s face. “Yes, lick the falseness off his ugly face.”

“Eek, that’s disgusting. Tell the furry beasts to leave me alone. I’m still your alpha,” you snicker silently when you turn around to watch Star grit her teeth to attack your former alphas crotch. “No, please…shit…take that dog off me or I’ll shoot the beast.”

“Star, kill his manhood,” you smirk, watching Dean look at you in horror. “Do it slow, baby. He likes it when you tease him a little, take him deep enough to tickle my throat.”

CHOOSE YOUR ENDING UNDER THE CUT.

Bad ending…

“Y/N, I know I hurt you but please, give me the chance to explain that I made a stupid mistake. Please, I still love you and I want to raise my child with you,” Dean pleas but you are too hurt to ever forgive Dean.

“No, Dean. I gave up everything to be with you. I never even thought about betraying you. If you would love me, you…,” your voice cracks and you need to take a deep breath before you face Dean. “No one who loves his omega forces her to leave and threatens her life. I want you to go and never come back. To me you are only a loose end from now on…”

Alternative ending…

“You had your fun, sweetheart. Now tell the dogs to get off me,” you smirk, humming to yourself. “Baby? That wasn’t the plan!”

“It wasn’t yours,” you swing your legs out of the bed to kneel next to Dean, looking at your alpha. His face covered in slobber; pants ripped apart he looks up at you. “You know, when you told me you’ve got a rat in your organization and that you need to know I’m safe, I didn’t plan on spending months hidden in a shabby apartment, Winchester.”

“I found the culprit,” Dean points toward Star, whining when she opens her mouth, revealing sharp teeth. “Baby, please…”

“I don’t know, Dean. Seeing you so helpless underneath an omega makes me feel so good,” you smirk, sliding your hand over his chest. “I had to buy a synthetic scent, Dean.”

“It was for your safety, Y/N. Now let me get up and scent my omega. I need to have you back in my arms,” one click of your tongue later your dogs relax, even lick Dean’s face again. “No…fuck, …no…eek! I’m no food…”

——-

“So…,” you rest your head onto Dean’s chest, patting his thigh, “you found the big bad guy?”

“Girl,” humming you close your eyes, inhaling Dean’s scent deeply. “Sorry, I know that I promised to come back sooner. It’s been a hell of a month. I never thought it was Amara who rats us out.”

“I’ve missed you, is all. Why didn’t you tell Sam about the rat? Why only me?” you look up at Dean who gives you a soft smile. “Dean?”

“It had to look realistic. I needed the traitor to believe you are out of the picture and that I think you are the one who told the cops about our plans,” Dean pecks your hair, thankful he finally has you back in his arms. “Sammy is mad at me, though.”

“Figures, alpha,” you yawn, relaxing in Dean’s arms. “He’s your brother and wants you to trust him unconditionally.”

“This wasn’t about trust; it was about protecting you and not involving anyone else. Sam, he would’ve insisted on keeping an eye on you or to help me. I had to play my role well, get my brother and anyone loving you mad at me.”

“In other words, you made a hasty decision and didn’t want to stop when you realized it was a dumb idea. You know, in your office I wanted to rip your head off. It felt so real my inner omega was hurt,” Dean sniffles, looking at you.

“Tomorrow, I’ll bring you home. You and the two killers you call your pets,” you nod, wanting nothing more than to finally reunite with your alpha…

Tags in reblog

[lambourngb]

This Hard Truth

Fic prompt: “Are you drunk?”

THIS HARD TRUTH picks up immediately after THIS HARD LIE, an AU that explores the changes to Roswell and Michael if Alex had decided to tell the Air Force to go pound sand. It’s not all roses. Also folks, not sure if I’ve said, but I’ve been writing these each day literally from scratch off an old vague outline I abandoned a year ago, and today’s the first one that I’ve struggled with, so there’s your warning. Once Michael Guerin Week is over, this is going to a beta and will find a home on AO3. Thank you for loving the raw story. 

****

The solid black Range Rover parked in front of his Airstream didn’t surprise Michael in the least. 

It had been three days since Jesse Manes had succumbed to his terminal cancer diagnosis, those final days silent under a steady morphine drip. The doctors were correct with their less than a month pronouncement which had left Michael with the uncomfortable position of hoping that Jesse was going to defy those odds. It was a win-win of extended suffering for a man who had earned that and it would have kept Alex in Roswell longer.

He had seen Alex exactly seven times since that first night at the Wild Pony, all of them casual spontaneous encounters that became less spontaneous after he’d learned the nursing rotation of Manes brothers and home care staff. He’d shuffled his jobs at the garage to leave openings in schedule and stopped eating at home during the nights he knew Alex would be free, emptying out his dining out jar. 

This was a species thing, he had reminded himself as a curl of guilt had started to squirm inside him at the level of low-key stalking he had done to see his ex. Between Max’s somber admission that he still could remember in crystal-clear detail the day Liz Ortecho touched his lip almost eight years ago in high school and the reaction one of Michael’s attempts at dating had to his story of showing up on Alex’s doorstep two years after a breakup with no warning, well he was aware this wasn’t a normal intensity. The date with wide eyes picking up their phone, even though it hadn’t made a noise, saying, “You seem like a nice guy, but I need to take this call, it’s probably work, we can try again some other time-”

That was the proper reaction to his story he learned, not nodding sagely like Max had and encouraging him to go in the first place.

Humans couldn’t calculate within a minute the amount of time they had recently spent with someone the way Michael could. It was a full commitment of energy to stay carefully friendly with Alex, to keep his alien focus under wraps even though he probably tipped his cards that day in Nashville. On his good days he told himself that Alex hadn’t called the cops on him because he’d been happy to see Michael and on his bad days, it was because he didn’t want the press. 

With Jesse Manes dead, Alex’s reasons for staying in Roswell were over. It was time to say goodbye to this small interlude of where Michael felt completely himself, brimming in mitochondrial buoyancy with every cell alive and sparking. Back to the cards of Hallmark blandness and the short notes of congratulations after a song does well.

Alex looked up from his casual sprawl in the lawn chair, his phone in hand, and smiled at Michael’s approach, “thought I might return the favor, and show up at your door unannounced. I gotta say, an Airstream at Sanders’ was not what I was expecting as Casa de Guerin.”

Suddenly aware of the dark stain of dirt staining his cuticles, Michael shoved his hands in his pockets as he strolled up to him. Everywhere he looked was a reminder of the divide, from the shiny Range Rover Sport to the smooth manicure and high-end clothing that wrapped Alex’s frame. “What did you expect then, bedroll in my truck again?”

“Whoa,” Alex stood up, pocketing his phone to hold his hands up harmlessly. “Sorry, that’s not what I mean, I was referring to the doctor boyfriend you’ve got. Most doctors I’ve met are about the trappings, it looks like you found a good one that likes you as you.” Alex’s smile wavered, “I’m happy for you.”

Now even more off-balanced, Michael sputtered, “wait, I don’t-”

“I’m less happy it’s Kyle Valenti, but I guess it’s possible he’s changed, or received a personality transplant-”

“Holy shit who have you been talking to?” He finally cut in, looking over his shoulder back to the office at the auto yard, half expecting to see Isobel being helpful. She had never quite forgiven Alex for finding happiness in Nashville, and it would be just like her to spin a version of events to make Alex jealous. As if that was possible, even in a universe where Michael was capable of being a Stepford boyfriend worthy of a doctor, nothing compares to the life Alex has built without him. Not even zero-percent body fat doctors who did know quite a bit of anatomy. The mention of Kyle did remind Michael that he hadn’t heard very much from him since that last night shortly before Alex had rolled into town. “We’ve seen each other a few times now, Alex, I would have told you if I had a boyfriend. Anyway, Kyle has changed, but he’s not- we’re weirdly enough friends.”

A pang of longing shot through him at seeing Alex arch his eyebrow at him in judgment. “That is not what Maria says, or Arturo, or Old Man Sanders for that matter.”

“Well, they are wrong.” Michael said firmly, stepping around Alex leaving a careful amount of space as he flipped open the lid of his cooler for a beer. “It’s not like that okay? I don’t have a Dennis and a dog in my life, it’s casual and fun but nothing more.”

“I wish I was sad about hearing that, but I’m not.” 

Michael paused in the middle of popping the cap off his bottle, “Wow, thank you.” That stung more than he was expecting to hear that Alex was happy he was alone. Fame and fortune really did change people. Swallowing the lump in his throat, “Listen, I’ve loved seeing you Alex, and the less said about your dad the better, so thanks for coming by to say goodbye and eh, enjoy Nashville,” he grabbed the knob on his Airstream door to flee.

A hand covered his, keeping the door firmly closed against the frame. Michael cursed his species for the thousandth time as the touch sent waves of weakness through him. Alex leaned in close, too close for just friendly words, “Wait, that came out wrong.”

“Did it?”

“Yes,” Alex stated firmly. He held onto Michael’s hand, stepping into the space between them to block the retreat into the Airstream. This was the closest they had been to one another in four years, not since that last fight the morning before Alex’s flight east that ended with fucking on a bare mattress after Michael had packed their sheets for Alex to take. “Coming back here, seeing everyone, um, seeing you, it reminded me of who I was before I became this guy,” he gestured at his clothes and back toward the expensive car vaguely. “I’ve got all these things now, useless things, that when I look in the mirror, I see my dad, a guy who cared more about a uniform than he did his own kids.” 

“Alex, you could never be him, I don’t care if you become more famous than McCartney, it’s just not possible.”

Whatever Alex saw on his face made him shake his head gently in response, “I don’t get it, you still look at me like you did when we were dumb kids surviving on ramen, like nothing’s changed at all.” 

“Nothing has changed for me,” Michael insisted firmly, bringing the open and almost forgotten beer to his lips. A merger shield to employ. It was pretty clear that nothing ever would and that was his reality. It was as true now as it was when he had borrowed a guitar from the music room at seventeen. “But you knew that already, that’s why we broke up, remember? Things were changin’ for you, you were goin’ to bigger places than Roswell, and that’s a good thing. A great thing even.”

“I know. You should know that I’m not going back to Tennessee right now, Michael.” 

“What?”

“There’s no Dennis, I mean, not anymore. That kinda fizzled out after your visit, and the dog was his,” Alex kept his hand over Michael’s, slowly moving it up to circle his fingers around his wrist, “I do miss the dog, she was sweet.”

“Your house-” Michael started, his pulse back to pounding senselessly in his ears.

“That was mine but I sublet it to a guy I know who’s doing session work at the studio while I was here. I just let him convert the sublet into a lease.”

“And your agent?”

“Dealing with the fact I’m taking my first sabbatical in four years,” Alex finished smoothly, an answer ready for every disbelieving question that Michael could muster about his house and life. He took a step back, as if he was suddenly aware of how he had crowded him against the warm metal door of the Airstream.

There was just one question left to ask though, as Michael studied Alex’s face intently. The transparent way his eyes kept flickering from the beer bottle against Michael’s mouth and then away. “If you’re not here to say goodbye to me, then why are you here?” he asked challengingly, raising his beer back to his mouth to finish with a full lipped suggestive swallow.

Gauntlet dropped and accepted as Alex surged forward to press Michael against the door and kiss him. The glass bottle dropped uselessly to the ground, glancing off the metal steps as Michael reached behind him to turn the knob quickly. He stepped backward, letting Alex crowd him through the doorway, chasing his mouth hungrily.

The metal door slapped hard against the door jamb, as Michael fell back on his mattress. 

Alex gulped audibly for air from the break, pulling back to tug off his v-neck shirt over his head and then stilled as he took in the state of Michael’s small bed. His eyes widened, scrutinizing the setup and Michael had to look away in embarrassment, knowing exactly what Alex had just recognized. “You goddamn liar! When I said I didn’t want our sheets to take with me, you said you were going to burn them!”

“Yeah, well, it seemed wasteful.” 

Michael leaned back on the thin mattress, ripping his own shirt off to toss carelessly on the floor. He watched as Alex reached down to unbutton his pants. The yellow light from the trailer window brushed a gold glow of Alex’s half naked torso. He drank in the small, subtle changes in Alex’s body, like the corded strength in his torso that spoke of some sort of workout. Probably yoga or dancing maybe. The playful outrage on Alex’s face slowly changed over to a dawning realization as he took in the details of the small and cramped surroundings.

This was why Michael never brought anyone back here.  All around were the skeleton remains of that first apartment together. The same dishes in the tiny sink. The same cheap poster advertising Warp Tour was taped to the back of the wooden built-in dresser. The same stupid classic car clock that Alex had brought home, after Maria had bought the Wild Pony and upgraded the decor, all because the cars reminded him of Michael.

Everywhere in the Airstream was some piece of memorabilia from those three years together. It was as close to a shrine to their relationship that Michael could build without setting out candles and a full altar.

“Holy shit, you really do love me.”

“Uh, yeah,” Michael rubbed at the back of his head ruefully, before laying back to accept Alex’s warm weight over him. He closed his eyes as Alex kissed him, turning his head upward as those long, musician fingers tangled in his hair. Gasping softly, he confessed, “Never did figure out how to stop.” 

“My dad was wrong, I mean, I knew he was- but he was so convinced that your species weren’t capable of it-” Alex stopped abruptly, aware almost immediately that Michael had gone rigid under him. 

Dimly Michael realized that Alex was still talking but nothing registered after ‘your kind’. It was subterfuge earlier, when Alex joked that first night about his father being a lunatic lost in the ravages of a brain tumor. He believed Jesse, worse he seemed to know that Jesse was right, that Michael was different. 

Cool palms cupped Michael’s face, pulling him away from his spiraling thoughts. Any hope of laughing off the response was gone with the serious look in Alex’s eyes. “Hey. I don’t care, okay? You are still the first person, hell the only person, I’ve ever loved completely. Where you came from doesn’t matter to me. I know who you are-”

“And you know what I am.”

“Yes.”

*** 

Michael stared up at the ceiling of his trailer not daring to look sideways at Alex, who was pressed as close he could get against Michael on the narrow bunk. After a soft acknowledgment that he knew that Michael wasn’t alone, that he’d figured out that Max and Isobel had to be the same even though his father had died believing only Michael was an alien, Michael told him everything. 

The crash, the pod, the years in the system, the knowledge that he was different and the fear that came with that knowledge. The fact he has powers, that they all do. The joy he had in finding Max and Isobel again at eleven even though he didn’t trust why he felt that way toward them. Then the vow they had made for absolute secrecy. “Not even Noah knows about Isobel, and they’ve been married four years now.”

“And Max? He never told anyone either?”

“His partner knows Jenna Cameron but that wasn’t planned. They were driving back to the station after a long circuit patrol for speeders and got caught up rescuing some people from a flash flood. The Berrendo. Cam got hit by a tree branch, femoral artery, and yeah, Max healed her. No one saw him because it was a dark night, but healing leaves a handprint. Impossible to deny it.”

Alex ran his hand absently through Michael’s chest hair, soothing them both. “It was a relief when my dad had Flint show me the evidence.”

“A relief?” Michael joked weakly, his mouth twitching upward in the effort. “Low key worried now that learning I’m an alien was a relief to you.”

“I thought the novelty of being with me had worn off. I mean, my choice after telling the Air Force to fuck off was starving to death or splitting expenses with you for rent. I figured after 3 years, you were ready to move on, so you let me go.” Alex reached up to cover Michael’s mouth with his palm briefly. “I know how that sounds, but you have to understand, before you? No one had ever loved me. My mom left when I was eight. I mean, maybe my older brothers did for a bit when I was little and cute? At least until I was thirteen and my dad started singling me out. He would kick my ass in front of them, daring them to protest, and they didn’t. I didn’t even love me.”

“Alex,” Heartbreak was in every syllable. “I never wanted to let you go-”

“I know, I’m just saying, I could finally believe it when Flint handed me a piece of a 70-year-old spaceship.”

“Dropping in on you with no warning a couple of years ago wasn’t a clue?”

Alex pursed his lips together, and laid his head on Michael’s shoulder. “Honestly I had spent two years telling myself that you didn’t give a shit, and then when you showed up, I thought it was because I was making a name. All sorts of people come out of the woodwork when the first taste of fame comes along. Then you confused me, because you left and started sending me these terribly boring greeting cards.”

“Fuck off, I spent forever picking out those cards,” Michael protested with a laugh. “I was trying to show you that I had chill, that I wouldn’t boil a bunny or stalk your social media.”

“Well you succeeded, I did keep all your cards though. It might have been a factor for Dennis moving out,” Alex joked in return before sobering with a tired sigh, “but little did you know, the real stalkers here were my family. Ever since 1947, a Manes man has been tasked in protecting humanity from your kind, starting with my great-grandfather Harlan, and ending with my brother Flint.”

Michael echoed the sigh, tucking Alex closer to him. The idea of the government, especially the United States Military, believing in aliens was enough to send his pulse rattling upward with fear. Every fear made real. 

“On the bright side, my dad is dead, so that’s one less Manes hunting you.”

“What’s the other side?”

“I thought my brother was in Germany except he’s been stateside for the last five years working with my dad. He’s a weapons expert, and he’s so important to the project that the military forwarded his mail to Germany for the proper postmarks.”

“Well fuck.”

*** 

The next day, Michael took a rare sick day from work and guided Alex out to the desert to the cave to show him the pods, where his story had begun according to his memory. Then it was Alex’s turn for show and tell, as he directed Michael to the abandoned air base.

“I don’t know if we’ll be able to get in, but Flint calls it Project Shepherd. It was Dad’s center of operations in Roswell. He tapped into all the traffic cameras and even planted one on the gate to Sanders’ Auto,” Alex explained as he stepped out of his Range Rover. “You fixing cars must have bored the shit out of him.”

Weeds and scrub grass covered the broken pavement of the air base, lending to the air of disuse. The huge metal hangers covered the expanse, the domed tin roofs punctuated the horizon like a scattered group of D’s. Michael scanned the surroundings, a feeling of disquiet and dread filling his veins. It was probably the height of foolishness to visit a top secret bunker with only the company of a musician as back up, even if he did have the last name of Manes.

A dark shadow caught his eye, and frowned as he realized that they weren’t the only ones on sight. A familiar dark blue BMW was parked off to the side, mostly hidden by a building named B unimaginatively. As he crossed the parking lot with Alex a step behind, skipping over the broken slabs of paving markers, he drew to a halt in front of an open door.

Michael started forward, but Alex slapped his hand over his arm to halt him, “you should let me go first-”

“What, no!”

“I’m human, what if there’s some sort of anti-alien trap down there?”

“And you’re human, so what makes you think you’ll trip it?” Michael shot back reasonably, shaking off Alex’s hold. “If there’s a trap, I’m the one with the lock pick in my brain, besides, I think I know who’s down there.”

“This is like every bad horror movie, Michael.” 

But outside of that pronouncement, Alex let him take the lead down the stairs of the open bunker into the cool shadows of the underground facility. As expected, he made it down uneventfully and found exactly who he expected at the bottom, spinning around in a slow circle in a leather covered office chair.

“Did you know they’re selling a shirt at Planet 7 that says ‘I’ve been probed by an alien’? I should buy it, because I can wear it unironically,” Kyle greeted as Michael made it to the bottom of the staircase. He shut his mouth comically as he realized that Michael wasn’t alone, “Whoops, did I just blow your secret like I’ve blown you?”

In Michael’s experience with Kyle, working the almost-friends and all-benefits angle, he had seen him in a lot of states. Worn out from a long shift at the hospital, solemn because he’d lost a patient, giggly because of Michael’s tendency toward wild bedhead, horny strangely because of a good football game, and finally tipsy after a pair of IPAs. He had never seen Kyle in this state.

“Are you drunk?” Michael asked, disbelievingly even though there was a mostly empty bottle of bourbon on the long conference table, stretching along the width of the room under the fluorescent lights.

“I am very drunk. That is the only sane response to my dad, I mean my day, actually I had that right the first time, my dad.” Kyle nodded vigorously before looking over Michael’s shoulder, “Hi Alex Manes. I’m sorry I was a homophobic jackass in high school. I have really changed. Ask your ex. Or is it current? Am I the ex now? Are we both Michael’s ex? Exes? Fuck is that plural or possessive-”

“You are definitely an ex now,” Alex answered firmly.

“Holy shit you are wasted,” Michael shook his head, slightly amused in spite of the deep alarm he felt in finding Kyle Valenti deep in the command center of an alien hunting operation. It was hard to feel too afraid considering the words pouring from Kyle’s mouth unedited. 

“Listen I changed myself okay? I did the hard work examining my privilege and my toxic masculinity. I did it because I like sucking dick, but also because my dad is a good person and I wanted to make him proud. But I was fucking wrong. Not about sucking dick, that’s great, but my dad, he’s not good, Michael, he is really not who I thought he was.” Kyle pronounced seriously with the heavy emphasis of the inebriated. He staggered over to a computer system to press a key, pulling up a surveillance camera of a nondescript building on the set of command monitors. “He runs an alien GITMO,” the outside image clicked over, showing a line of cells, including an image of an all-too familiar man, “And he had Jesse Manes killed by an alien.”

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Not Stupid

Summary: After a hunt goes wrong, the reader and Sam are injured and it only gets worse from there...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Square: Episode Re-write (11x17)

Word Count: 2,000ish

Warnings: language, life threatening injury, possible death, referenced drug overdose, 11x17 spoilers

A/N: Written for @spngenrebingo​​

____

“Y/N!” said Dean as you felt a bullet rip through your side. You gasped and dropped to your knees besides Sam who was already pressing his palms to his stomach and sporting a gunshot of his own. Dean left the victims from the attempted werewolf feasting and ran over. You waved him off to Sam as you lifted up your shirt and coat.

“Fuck, this was my favorite jacket too,” you said, feeling the hole through the back.

“You’re a through and through, sweetheart,” said Dean. You hummed and took off your jacket and flannel, wadding the shirt up as you watched Dean shakily tear open a few of the padding packs from the first aid kit in the duffel.

“Dean, put it in the wound, baby. It’ll work better,” you said. “Sam, it’s gonna hurt.”

“Already...fuck!” shouted Sam, his whole body tensing up as Dean winced. 

“You’re okay,” said Dean, tossing a pad in your direction.

“Sam needs-”

“Y/N. Take. It,” said Dean. You grumbled and opened the pad, shoving it against your abdomen on the front side. You tied your flannel tight around it, the back hopefully wadded up enough to soak up the blood there.

You turned back to Sam who Dean was helping get to his feet.

“Y/N. You okay?” asked Dean, half carrying Sam towards the door.

“Yeah,” you said. “Flesh wound. Come on you guys.”

You waved over the man and woman sitting on the step, the woman looking a little worse for wear.

“There’s more werewolves out there,” said Corbin.

“We’ll get out of here. Stick close.”

“He’s slowing us down,” mumbled the man about fifteen minutes later.

“Shut up,” you and Dean snapped back at him. He stared at you and kept walking with his wife. You went to Sam’s side and gave him a smile.

“Doing okay big guy?” you asked.

“Awesome,” he hissed. “You?”

“I’m okay. Just a bad graze,” you said. You caught his arm when he stumbled a bit.

“Come on,” said Dean, nodding to a ranger’s station up ahead. “We’ll stop and rest for a minute.”

Corbin grunted as he helped Michelle inside. They settled into a chair in the corner for a moment as you leaned against the counter in the front.

“How’s it going, Sammy?” asked Dean, walking around the cabin and finding a towel, handing it to Sam. Sam grunted but nodded. “We’re gonna get you fixed up just like that. Don’t you worry about a thing.”

“You guys gotta go,” said Sam, wincing. “I can’t move fast and if he’s right and there’s more out there-”

“I will carry you out of here if I have to,” said Dean.

“I second that,” you said with a smile.

“How about you?” asked Dean.

“I’ve had periods worse,” you joked, glad that it seemed like you’d stopped bleeding at least. You hoped. “It’s okay.” 

“Guys, she needs a doctor,” said Corbin, Michelle resting in the chair.

“Take a number,” said Dean. “Sammy, stay here and rest a minute. We’ll be right back.”

“Where are we going?” you asked.

“To build him a stretcher,” said Dean, grabbing your bloody hand. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I’m fine.”

“What the fuck happened?” you said, Dean kneeling down over Sam’s body when you ran back not five minutes later after spotting more werewolves.

“He just fell over,” said Corbin. You closed your eyes, Dean standing up slowly. “We need to go, those things-“

“Let ‘em come. I’ll gut them,” said Dean. “You ready for a fight?”

You leaned back against the counter, Dean tilting his head back.

“No, you’re not,” he said. He kicked the counter and squeezed his eyes shut. “Let’s go.”

“Dean-“

“You need a hospital,” he said as he grabbed his bag. “I will take you three out and then I will come back here and I will fix him, understand?”

“I’m-“

“I am not losing both of you on the same goddamn night,” said Dean. You nodded, wanting nothing more than to wrap him up in a hug and tell him it was okay, to pretend to yourself that it was okay. You looked back at Sam, Dean grabbing your hand. “The quicker we go, the quicker we can get him back.”

“Do not sell your soul or I swear I’ll kick your ass, Winchester,” you mumbled. He grabbed your hand and started to head for the door.

“Let’s move it. Now.”

“Almost out,” said Dean as you saw the bushes start to clear ahead. You hummed and had your head resting on his shoulder as you walked. “You lost more blood than you said.”

“I’m tired. I’ll live. You can’t do something stupid, Dean. There’s got to be a better way,” you said.

“I’m going back for him. I’ll get him to Baby and we’ll deal with it then,” he said. 

“No stupid,” you mumbled, tripping a little.

“Fine. No stupid,” he said as he caught you. You had your eyes shut when Dean all of a sudden left your side. You flew them open, Dean waving down a cop car from the looks of it. You watched him talk to the officer before he was heading back towards the woods, the officer grabbing him. You hummed and shut your eyes again, hearing a taser go off before you hit the ground.

“‘Sup,” said Billie when you flew open your eyes. You groaned as you realized you were in a hospital hallway. 

“Y/N? What…” said Dean. 

“I said no stupid!” you said, storming over and ready to give him a piece of your mind. “You…”

You realized there was no reason he should have been able to see Billie at the same time as you, no reason he should have been able to see you unless…

There was some kind of commotion to your right. Turning your head you saw Dean on the floor, a doctor, a cop and Michelle leaned over him.

“What did you do,” you said, glaring at him, whacking his shoulder as your eyes teared up. “What did you do!”

“You and Sammy,” said Dean, swallowing hard. “You’re dying. You’re dying and Sam’s dead and-”

“Actually, he’s not. Trust me, I’d know,” said Billie. Dean shook his head and Billie shrugged. “You two on the other hand are headed there. One of you is going to the empty. So. Who’s it gonna be?”

“You can go straight to-”

Dean suddenly coughed and sucked in a breath, rolling over on the floor, glancing over to where you were standing.

“Looks like it’s gonna be you,” said Billie, looking you up and down.

“Sam’s not dead?” you asked. 

“I’m not lying, Winchester,” she said. She held out a hand. “It’s time. Come with me or when they’re both done for real, I’ll toss them into nothing too.”

“I have no way of knowing you won’t do that anyways,” you said. You took a step back, Billie narrowing her eyes.

“No. You don’t,” she said. You opened your mouth to speak when you heard a loud noise behind you, Dean rushing past you on his phone. There was a scream a short while later and you took the opportunity to follow Dean. “Fine. Stay stuck here. Don’t bother calling when you get sick of it.”

“Leave us alone, Billie,” you said. You ran down a hallway and saw the dead officer, Dean shooting at a very werewolf looking Corbin. He knocked the gun away though and Dean fell back, Corbin ready to lunge. “Back. Off.”

You flew Corbin back towards the other end of the hall, Dean looking around before he went for his gun.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said as he got his hands on it again. Corbin rushed again but new shots rang out, Sam panting as he appeared. Corbin hit the deck and you sighed, leaning back against the wall. “Sammy?”

“I could use with a doctor right about now.”

“Is she gonna be okay?” asked Dean after they’d helped clean up everything. 

“She lost a lot of blood and I can guarantee moving her right now will kill her,” said the doctor. You sat on the edge of your bed, your body pale looking. “I know you two need to get out of here but she can’t come with you.”

“Jane Doe. List her as a Jane Doe, not related to this crap with the missing hiker’s at all,” said Dean. “Keep her alive a few hours. I’ll be back.”

“I can’t promise anything,” said the doctor.

“I said no stupid, Dean,” you said, looking over at him. Dean nodded and took off with Sam. You shut your eyes. “No stupid, Dean. You promised.”

“What the hell is this?” asked the doctor when Dean held out a syringe a few hours later.

“Give it to her,” said Dean.

“I’m not giving-”

Dean rolled his eyes and stabbed it into your IV line, the doctor throwing up her hands. You watched from the other side of the bed, your vitals still low on the monitor. 

“Come on, come on, come on,” mumbled Dean. 

All of a sudden you were back in your body, shooting up like a bullet and gasping.

“How the-” said the doctor, pushing Dean out of the way. You lifted up your shirt, your wound gone. “What?”

“I’m interested in knowing what happened as well,” you said. Dean nodded but set a duffel on the end of the bed.

“Change first. I’ll explain on the way home.”

“Dean, what exactly was that?” you asked not ten minutes later. Dean rested his head in his hand as he drove. “I swear-”

“You know I love you, right?”

“Of course I know that.”

“You love me too and you were so fucking...when we met on that hunt back in the fall, I hated you. You saved my life and I hated you,” he said.

“Dean?” you asked.

“I always had this weird feeling. I don’t fall in love with someone like that. Love at first sight isn’t real. It’s not, not even a glimmer of it. But you wormed your fucking way in just like that,” he said. You stared at him as he drove, Dean quiet for a few minutes. “The cure I gave you, I had no idea if it would work or not. I had a suspicion but no idea. Now that it did, I know for sure.”

“Know what?”

“The reason I fell so hard and so fast was because you’re my soulmate,” he said. You blinked and he laughed. “I’m sorry you got the short end of it but it’s true. The cure needed blood from your soulmate and well, it worked so there’s your-”

“I didn’t get the short end of anything,” you said, reaching over and taking his hand. “I promise.”

“Yeah you did.”

“Well suck it up, Winchester cause I’m not changing my mind on this one,” you said. He didn’t speak. He held onto your hand in silence though, stroking his thumb over the back of it. “Sam okay?”

“Yeah. Resting at home,” he said. “He doesn’t know about the whole...overdosing thing.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” you said. 

“Thanks,” he said. “The story is we just went to get the hikers and you out and I was coming back for him.”

“Alright. One condition though,” you said.

“I know. No more stupid. One day I’ll listen, sweetheart.”

_______

[amerasdreams]

Jerry’s lost last letter from Vietnam

Dear Mom and Dad,

and Jana and Jason,

I need to tell you about what happened here in Vietnam. In my other letters, I glossed over details because, Dad, you know war and so I don’t have to tell you what it’s like, and Mom, I didn’t want to worry you. Jana and Jason, I hope you never have to know what war is like.

But I can’t deny the truth of what happened over here, the pain and the glory of it.

You hear stories about Vietnam before you leave. A lot of people give into evil. You have to kill to survive, that’s one thing. But the things people let themselves do…become no better than the enemy they’re fighting. They let the war cloud their minds, muddy their morals. I was self-righteous about this at first. I would never fall.

Oh how wrong I was.

I hesitate to tell you. Especially you, Jason, who looked up to me so much. I wish you could keep this heroic image of me, but that would be selfish.

The truth is, I gave into evil. I was proud, to start with. It blinded me to the fact that deep down I’m no different than anyone else and it’s only by the saving grace of Jesus Christ that I have anything salvageable inside me.

It’s not like I did it myself; I just let it happen. But that doesn’t justify it. Fear is no excuse either. It can’t be, here. Especially when you’re an officer; you’re responsible for the men under you.

One reason I’m hesitant to tell about this is that it’s top secret. And it involves someone else and her safety. But with the uncertainty over here—when the war will end, overall or just for me—it’s worth the risk so you can help her in case I’m….not around anymore.

We trudged through the mud, sheets of rain pouring down, soaking us. The gray sky pierced by green knives of grass, slashing our arms as we searched for the enemy. We hadn’t had any action for days and some of my men were itching for a fight, just to break up the gray sloshing mud with bright flowers of fire.

This kid, Jenkins, had glasses and that made it so he could see even less than the rest of us in the rain. Barely 18, smaller than most, the guys all teased him but he took it well and so they were good-natured about it. He was kinda like our mascot. We thought he had a charmed life; he once stepped on a mine and it didn’t go off, some of the men thought he was lucky and even that we were an invincible unit.

We were checking out a weapons cache when some VC ambushed us. Shattered Benny’s leg, that’s my sarge. Good man. I dragged him to safety and fired back—we were surrounded on this little island in the swamp, just a raised bit of land, not much cover, so we were sitting ducks. I had to get my men out of there. I ordered some men to make a feint to the left, others to cover our rear as we retreated into the swamp. But they caught us as we came down, popped up right out of the gray water and shot some point-blank. I fought hand-to-hand with one—he stabbed me in the thigh and blood swirled into the water like red ink. Somehow we fought them off but by that time they’d killed five of us and Jenkins was lying face down, so much blood in the water around him we knew he was gone.

A chopper flew us back to base for R and R and to take care of the dead. Rally, one of my squad leaders, wanted to go right back out and find those VC—he didn’t use that term—and kill them. Something in him snapped that day. I should’ve seen it but we were all grieving. We were a tight-knit unit, even more than most, I thought, and to lose Jenkins and four other good men…it hit us hard. But we forged on. I had to get a new platoon sergeant temporarily so I promoted Rally to the acting position.

About a month later, early August, we captured some VC. My men and I secured the village while Rally began the interrogation of the prisoners, two men and a woman, in a vacant shed. While I was occupied, the prisoners attempted to escape and Rally shot them. That was his story. I have no doubt they were trying to escape, but they were shot in the back, which wasn’t really necessary as they were bound and couldn’t have gotten far. When I returned, one man had died and Rally was beating the other man’s face in. He was incoherent and useless as an intel source. Jackson offered to “put him out of his misery”; I held him back and had the medic take care of him.

Only the woman was left to interrogate. I let Rally be the bad cop and threaten to kill her family, but I didn’t let him lay a hand on her. She taunted us, told us we were dead men like the buddies we’d lost. Rally swung a fist toward her; I shoved him out of the way and had a nice, civil talk with her. She seemed to thaw a little; I saw some of the fear in her eyes beneath the bravado, and we even shared a little about our families. She gave me a nom de guerre: Ana.

Just when I thought we were ready for a breakthrough, some of her comrades attacked and we had to fend them off. Once I got back to the shed, I found Rally had continued the interrogation by breaking one of her fingers. I tried to stop him but Jackson held me back. “She’s close to cracking,” he said. “You step in, she’ll clam up again. He’s already got some good stuff, sir. Just a little more. Otherwise this is all in vain.”

“This is not who we are. We’re Americans—this is what they do.”

“I know. I know, sir. You’ve kept us on the good path. But just this once, look away. For the ones we lost. For the ones we can save.”

I left the building, patrolled the perimeter. But no matter where I went, I could still hear Ana’s screams.

When I got back it was like a slaughterhouse. Rally was covered in blood; Ana (I must use her name—to do otherwise would dehumanize her) was unconscious. He’d broken each of her fingers and carved the names of our fallen into her chest. I tried not to look at her directly, as if that would absolve me of guilt, as if she was just a “target” and not a human being.

“We got the intel,” said Rally, beaming like he’d won a medal of honor.

I treated it like just another operation. She was just another casualty of war, an enemy at that. We’d done our job; it was a successful mission. We could be proud of ourselves.

We left her there; I’m not sure if she lived or died. I didn’t feel guilty at first; I didn’t feel anything but the need to keep my men safe. Until we stopped to rest, and she began to haunt me. Even if it was Rally who had gotten out of hand, I was responsible for my men’s actions. I’d allowed it. It was the same as if I’d carved those names into her chest. Hadn’t I wanted revenge too? How could I possibly delude myself I was any different, any better?

Still, I had to do my job, and I began to gain attention as a good leader from my CO. He told a CIA officer about me, and that officer contacted me for a special mission. Inside enemy territory.

We’d really only be glorified couriers; we were to deliver some new equipment to a northern spy. The CIA officer told me that he suspected a mole in his network; every agent he’d sent north had been killed or captured, the expensive equipment confiscated. We had a reputation of getting things done. He commended us for the intel we’d gotten from Ana; his agents had made good use of it. We’d take a different route than the others to throw the VC off track, but we should be under no illusions that this would be an easy or safe mission. He’d only take volunteers.

I took a small group of 10 men and we went north. We’d just dropped off the package when we were ambushed. Two men were shot; I covered the others so they could get away. I emptied my ammo and then fought with my knife—I’d rather be killed than captured—but they stabbed my leg and I went down. Blows rained from all directions until a rifle hit my head and I blacked out.

I came to in a cell at a VC base camp. My body ached; I could barely move. A man dragged me to the interrogation room and the fun began.

My interrogator was the man we’d thought was our agent. He’d been fooling the Americans for years, feeding them false intel, getting their agents captured. I was no different; he’d extract the info he needed then kill me.

He asked me about my mission for the CIA. I couldn’t tell him any more than he already knew. So he hit me. He asked about troop movements and supply routes; I wouldn’t tell him anything. So he hit me again. He wasn’t especially creative even though he always bragged about his abilities. I think he confused enjoyment for expertise. Plus he had a big head from fooling the Americans. He was probably a good spy, but not a very good interrogator. I called him Hack.

Still, he began to wear me down, especially if the sessions ended with him hitting me so hard I blacked out. I probably had multiple concussions, and my wounds were left untreated and infected. One of his COs sat in on an interrogation and I was apparently so incoherent and delirious he ordered a medic to take care of me.

I don’t remember much after that; it was probably days before I was fully conscious again. It was like heaven; my head was clear and I barely ached. Someone came in with food.

No, not just someone. The most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. Silky hair that fell like a sheet of black water. Intense brown eyes in a perfect oval face. For a moment I thought she was an angel, especially since I felt no pain and pain had become part of my existence. She also reminded me of Ana…guilt struck my heart.

She handed me the tray of food and then left. When she came back, she aimed her gun at me and told me to follow. I was back in the interrogation room, but this time Hack was gone, replaced by another man. He spoke no English so he needed the girl, Ai, to translate. I knew basic Vietnamese but no complex words or sentences.

His interrogation was perfunctory and he rarely used physical force. It was a welcome reprieve. Plus I got to be in the same room with Ai, who looked at me with disdain as she translated.

This guy didn’t get anything out of me either, so they got some sort of specialist to have a go at me. He was good. Big, brutal, but he knew how to inflict maximum pain with minimum damage. Ai translated for him as well.

One day he had me on the floor, just screaming and sobbing with pain, like I was on fire. Ai threatened to stop translating unless he stopped hurting me so badly; he grabbed her and asked what side she was on. She said she just couldn’t stomach this; he said if she was weak she didn’t belong in the VC and began choking her.

First I noticed the absence of pain, then I noticed frantic, strangled cries. I looked up to see Ai kicking at him as he held her in the air by her throat.

I asked God to help me because I knew I couldn’t move on my own. I couldn’t redeem myself for what I’d done to Ana but I could help Ai.

I struggled to my feet and stood, shaking. Somehow I managed to say, “Stop!”

Anger crossed his face. He dropped Ai to the floor and turned on me. Gave me a good old fashioned beating till I blacked out.

When I came to, Ai was shaking me. It was dark. She told me that they would kill me since I had outlived my usefulness. She led me down the hallway and opened the door to the back, where there was a running vehicle. “Thank you. For what you did for me,” she said.

“Thank you for helping me, Ai. I wish—“

“Go! I can’t let them catch me.” She darted back inside.

Somehow I got down the road a bit before anyone saw me. I had to ditch the vehicle and run into the jungle. Survived for days, dodging patrols, eating bugs, till I ran into an American squad and they had me choppered back to base.

Everyone had thought I was dead; they had a big party for me. I recuperated and then went back to leading my platoon. Everything went back to normal. Vietnam-normal, anyway.

Until one day I saw Ai on base, delivering supplies to the soldiers. She drove out before I could catch her.

My men and I were hanging around base for a little while, so I saw her when she returned later that week. I caught up to her this time. She took me aside and told me that she was supposed to be an agent for the VC, but she was really working for the Americans. She had been with the communists when I’d been captured but she wasn’t a die-hard party member or anything. All she wanted was for the war to end and for her country to be at peace. She thought the VC would do that. But I’d changed her view of what Americans were at the same time she’d seen the brutality of the VC. She didn’t want to be complicit in that so she agreed to help us, in part to bring democracy and peace to her country, in part to make up for what she did.

I then told her my own struggle—my own complicity. Hurting a young woman like her. I expected her to leave in disgust. But she forgave me. I felt a dark burden lift from my heart. It wasn’t totally gone—it never will be. But what she did freed me, more so than when she’d let me out of the enemy camp.

Whenever she was on base, I found time to be with her. We began hanging out together. Eating at mess together. The boys began to make fun of me. I knew I should be careful; I didn’t want to blow her cover. Spending too much time with any one American without intel from him would be suspicious to her handlers. So we did things in secret. Had picnics out on this grassy hill with beautiful red flowers. I gave her presents. I felt she deserved the world.

Then I got orders to move out. We’d be deep in the jungle for weeks, perhaps months. My heart felt like it was imploding. I couldn’t be without her. I wished I could just take her and run away from the war and just live with her in peace.

But I decided to do something a little less drastic. When we were out on a picnic, I asked her—Dad, Mom, can you believe this?—to marry me.

And even more wonderful and crazy—she said yes!

Two days ago, we were married on our hill under the moonlight. She had a red flower in her hair. She was so beautiful! We sealed it with a glorious kiss and then…well, I’ll leave it at that.

We had two frantic days together, stolen kisses in the hallway, nights in a little abandoned hut covered in vines. Today I have to move out, leave her to the lonely life of a spy. How I can leave her without my heart breaking I don’t know. I’m sending this letter so you know the worst and the best of me, and so that you know to take care of her in case I don’t come back. Only the chaplain and the witness know about our marriage.  

She’s leaning over my shoulder as I write this in our little ‘cabin’, as I call it. Kissing me. Now she’s saying that she wants to say hi to you and she can’t wait to meet you. That she won’t let me leave and if I do she’ll drag me back….Oh I do love her, I can’t tell you how much, my heart’s bursting and I—

I miss you. I’ve got a long tour left but when I come home, I’ll bring a beautiful bride with me.

And, just in case,

Goodbye. (I’ll see you in heaven, anyway!)

Love,

Jerry (and Ai) Whittaker

- from Generation