#she will never be the thirteen year old girl who was excited for adventure again | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rekrappeter · 5 years ago

Text

august || jj maybank || scout’s writing challenge

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

word count: a whopping 7.3k

summary: y/n returns to the island for her yearly visit with her cousin, Kiara. she loves everything about the outer banks, except one impossible blonde hair, blue eyed boy [enemies to friends to lovers]

warning: nothing that isn’t mentioned in the tv show therefore there is cursing, fighting, mention of abuse, underage drinking, blood || lmk if i forget anything || definitely typos || i also didn’t proofread this so sorry

This is my first time writing for outer banks, so what better way to join a writing challenge organised by the queen herself @ptersparkers. I hope y’all enjoy it and please lmk what you think of it ♡ ♡

The whole month of August was dedicated to traveling to the outer banks, ever since you could remember. Your earliest memory on the island was when you were eight years old and your cousin, Kiara, almost drowned in the marsh; you remember laughing uncontrollably, not really understanding what was going on until your parents scolded you. You have always been close with Kiara; when you were away for the other eleven months of the year, you would constantly message and snapchat each other back and forward.

As you grew older, each year in obx came with new experiences. When you were thirteen, you had your first kiss on the dock with some brown-haired kook that you and Kiara were infatuated with that year. When you were fourteen, you got into your first fist fight with none other than JJ Maybanks and that was the beginning of the end for you. Ever since that eventful summer, you and JJ barely managed to be in the same room with each other without biting each other’s head off. You rued the first day you met him when you found him attractive, never more nauseated when you think of that memory.

At the age of sixteen now, you couldn’t be more excited to go back and visit your cousin and the rest of your extended family. This time your parents weren’t tagging along and trusted you to stay safe under the watchful eye of Kiara. When you were on the phone with Kie, days before your arrival, you both gushed about the numerous adventures you were going to take together. You were back in the outer banks no longer than four hours before you were dragged down to the boneyard, a memorable place that you found bliss in.

“Aye, there she is!” You heard John B yell over the chatter of the crowd down at the beach, he raised a red cup in your direction as a greeting. You laughed aloud, twirling before flinging yourself into his embrace. And it was official, John B gave the best hugs.

“Hey, don’t be hogging her,” Pope whined, pulling you from his best friend’s grasp and bringing you into a rib crushing hug. Okay, maybe it was Pope that gave the best hugs. You were so overwhelmed by the love that they were showing that you hadn’t noticed the blonde-haired boy rock up next to the gang with a girl tucked under his arm.

JJ spotted you from the moment that you stepped foot onto the beach, he was whispering into some brunette’s ear when his eyes lifted to see your figure beside Kie. His jaw immediately clenched and the sudden distaste was evident in his aura, at least that’s what he was calling the feeling of nausea that washed over him from seeing you there. He has been so busy working, he hadn’t realized that it was already August - the month he could live without for the rest of his life ever since he was introduced to you.

The girl reached to grab his jaw to look at her, “Are you even listening to me?” She pouted, her red lipstick smudged from the earlier kisses she shared with JJ.

JJ hummed in acknowledgement, looking at his empty cup. “Let’s go get a drink.” When he walked up to his close friends, he grimaced at you being flung around by Pope. An odd feeling was at the pit of his stomach, it was almost like a mix of regret and jealousy but he ignored it, like every other feeling he had when it came to you. “Look what the cat dragged in.” He snarled, handing his cup to John B to fill up.

At the sound of his voice, your spine tensed up and you were released from Pope’s embrace to come face to face with your own nemesis. You ignored the girl that looked between the two of you, your friends’ breath hitched in their throat getting ready for another annual greeting. You cocked your hip, brow raised with a humorous look on your face. “Wow, JJ, surprised you haven’t ended up dead in a ditch yet.”

JJ scoffed and rolled his blue eyes, “How many kooks are you planning on fucking this time around?” He retorted, watching your eyes narrow. If looks could kill, he knew he’d be dead five years ago.

“Looks like you’re one step ahead of me,” You turned your attention to the confused brunette who was nibbling on her nails, “Honestly, sweetheart, if you’re lowering yourself down to this--”

“That’s enough, Y/N.” Kie interrupted you, placing a red cup in your hands and pulling you away from the blonde that sent anger through your veins. “I just don’t get it.” She sighed, sitting on a log near one of the many fires that were brewing.

You glanced subtly over your shoulder, seeing that your friends dispersed into different crowds but he stood where you left him. JJ’s eyes found yours, neither one of you looking away at first. It wasn’t until his girl pulled his face to hers that your eye contact was broken. Your brows creased closer, confused by the sudden feeling of annoyance that erupted inside you. For the first time, you weren’t annoyed at the man himself, just the fact that he was kissing some random girl.

A week into your visit passed by in a flash, just as it usually did. Kie kept her promise and brought you on adventures through back roads and hiking trails. On the slow days, you also helped out at The Wreck; you knew that your uncle would make you do shifts there so instead of him confronting you, you volunteered to help. It was late on Sunday, you offered to close up and let Kie go hang out with the gang. Despite her protests, she was out the door in less than ten minutes telling you to head over to John B’s when you were ready.

You plugged your phone into the speaker system, playing a random playlist that you created. The Rolling Stones blasted around the bar and you cleared off the remaining tables, twisting and turning to the music. There were no customers left and you turned off the ‘open’ sign. Just as you were about to lock the main door, your eyes spotted a number of hooded figures under the dim lights out on the street. You were about to ignore them until you realised that they were kicking the crap out of someone, and from the mop of blonde hair flinging around, you knew exactly who it was.

“For fucks sake,” You sighed, grabbing the closest object to you and rushing out to defend JJ. “Hey!” You yelled, rushing over to the crowd and getting the three men’s attention. “Bit of a pussy move jumping someone by themselves.”

The men, who you presumed were Kooks, didn’t scatter like you were expecting them to. Instead, they turned to look at you, eying you up. You heard JJ groan on the ground, you were surprised you could hear the sound of the beating of your heart thumbing through your body. The man in the middle stepped closer to you, “Ain’t you pretty…” He reached to caress your cheek but you slapped his hand away, earning mocking sounds of surprise from the others.

“Look, sweetheart, we don’t want to fight with you too.” The dark-haired man hummed from beside JJ.

“You wanna fight him, you gotta fight me too.” JJ tried to protest as the words left your mouth which earned him a kick in the stomach. The man in front of you looked back at JJ, which was the perfect opportunity for you to get your shots in. You kneed him in the groin, causing him to hiss loudly and lean forward. You threw your fist against his jaw, and then again, and another punch for good measure. He fell to the floor, holding his crotch. Your eyes widened when his friend lunged for you, grabbing you and flinging you to the ground. You winced when your shoulder took the impact, but you continued kicking out as the man tried to climb on top of you.

He grabbed your legs, locking them down with his own legs that were much stronger than your whole body. You grabbed his collar quickly, bringing his body to yours before you swung your head to headbutt him. Both of you groaned at the impact but you used this chance to kick his body off you and you climbed on top of him, swinging punch after punch.

Strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you off the man and you were about to swing a punch until you realized it was JJ holding you this time. You looked over his shoulder to see the third man knocked out, the other two scrambling away muttering profanities under their breath. You sighed in relief, crashing into JJ’s body, your adrenaline disappeared and exhaustion washed over you quickly.

“What the fuck was that?” JJ shouted, gripping your shoulders to look at you.

“That was just me saving your fucking life.” You spat back at him, looking up at his busted face. You suddenly became aware of how close he was to you, when your chest rose with your rapid breathing it was touching his bare chest. He wore his shirt unbuttoned, showing off his toned chest. You ripped your body from his grasp, stalking away from him before you had the audacity to check him out again. You could hear him following you closely and you sighed, holding the bar door open for him before locking it behind him.

The tension was heavy as you breathed heavily in each other’s presence but neither one of you wanted to break the silence. JJ walked over to the freeze, grabbing the loose ice and placing it in a cloth before handing it to you. He was trying his best to calm his heart, the fact that you were willing to fight three kooks for him had his emotions soaring in all different directions. And when he had to pull you off one of them, he couldn’t deny how sexy you looked throwing punches like it was your favorite hobby. He was meant to hate you, not want to fuck you right now.

JJ ran his fingers through his hair before getting some ice for himself. He leaned up against the isle, watching you sit on one of the bar stools, hissing as you covered your knuckles with the cloth. He nibbled on his bottom lip, glancing around the restaurant. “Where’s Kie?” He asked, his voice soft.

“JB’s.” You replied, not actually knowing how to hold a conversation with JJ.

“Cool…” He hummed, bopping his head to the song that was playing around you. “I think this is the longest we’ve ever been in the same room without killing each other.”

“Nah, instead I just almost got killed because of you.” You huffed, rolling your eyes.

“I didn’t ask you to come out and fucking fight.” JJ retorted, his voice rising with each word.

“And what do I do when the police pull up asking about some jackass that was murdered outside here?” You stood up from the barstool, ditching the ice in the sink. “Nah, sorry officer, I knew it was a good for nothing son of a bitch so I left him there to die.” You yelled, mocking a posh accent.

“You are impossible!” JJ spat, each word filled with venom and hatred. You pushed passed him, trying to get to the back room but he grabbed your wrist to stop you. You looked up at him, watching as his jaw tensed and his eyes studied your expression. Your features were stiff, your chest rising and falling with each deep breath. He was so close to you, you could feel his breath fan over your face. You waited for him to say something, and you were shocked when his eyes fell to your lips. His own tongue swiped across his pink lips but before this could go any further, you ripped your hand from his grasp and walked away into the back room, leaving him there.

“Where have you been?” Kie exclaimed when you walked into the chateau an hour after you were meant to. She looked up from the boys to your face, gasping when she spotted the darkening bruise that was starting to shot up around your left eye. “What happened to you?”

You glanced around the room quickly, noting that the blonde that left the Wreck was nowhere to be seen. “I-umh, I fell and hit my face on the corner of the bar. It’s nothing really.” You mumbled, wincing when Kie reached to touch it, “Don’t do that.” You hissed, slapping her hand away.

“Ouch…” John B whistled, tossing you a bottle of beer that was much needed. You downed it in half a second, before reaching for another one. The brunette boy shared a look at your cousin, which you ignored before crashing down on the couch beside Pope and released the bubble of worry that has been forming in your lungs since you left The Wreck.

You managed to avoid any questions from your family about your new black eye over the last few days, you also successfully managed to avoid JJ, which wasn’t hard when he was staying away from you. It was Wednesday, the sun was hanging high in the sky and Kiara was forcing you to go out on the boat with her and the gang. It didn’t take you long to agree, you refused to let JJ ruin your yearly trip. You walked along the dock beside Kiara, looking to where the HMS was pulling up to collect you.

Your eyes immediately connected with the blue-eyed blonde who was navigating the boat before he turned his attention to the horizon in front of him. Pope grasped your hand, helping you onto the boat and took the icebox from your other hand. You smiled at him, as a silent thank you and made yourself comfortable, despite being under the scrutiny of JJ. His face was still busted up, his lip was swollen and he had a black eye that matched yours perfectly.

JJ found the perfect spot to anchor the boat. He was a lot quieter than usual, he hadn’t spoken to you once which was odd, you were waiting for him to throw a nasty comment your way. You were sure you weren’t the only one to notice, Kie had given you a puzzled look when JJ turned his back.

“I think I could get used to this.” John B was the first to break the intense silence, sipping on his beer.

“Used to what?” You asked, biting the bate first.

“You and JJ getting along.” Kie and Pope both groaned in unison at John B’s words.

Kie slapped him on the back of the head, “Why jinx it?”

You ignored JJ’s stare and stood up on the boat, “I’m going for a swim.” You announced, stripping from your shorts and tank. You caught JJ’s eyes scanning up and down your body before he gulped, and chugged down his beer. You didn’t say anything to entertain the situation, you just dived into the marsh, wincing at the shock of the cold water.

The day passed by quickly and for the most part, it was filled with laughter and generally a good time. The sun was setting in front of you and you laid on the front of the boat soaking up the last of the rays, the others were chatting in pairs but you felt that you had chatted enough for the day. You bopped your head to the music that was playing from the speaker JJ brought along and you were lost in your own thoughts. You hadn’t noticed someone sitting beside you until their knee buckled against yours and you jumped at the contact.

JJ chuckled at your frightened state and you sighed, ignoring the blond. He handed you a cold beer and you reluctantly reached out for it. ��I didn’t poison it.” He huffed, drinking is own full one.

“I wouldn’t put that past you.” You replied, eventually accepting the beer.

You sat in silence for a moment, you weren’t sure if you were enjoying his company. You could feel the warmth radiate from his bare torso and he smelt of seawater and weed; something about that combination weirdly comforted you. “Y/N, I… I just wanted to thank you for the other night.” JJ sighed, running his fingers through his wet hair. It was a good look for him.

“It’s all good.” You mumbled, focusing your attention on the sunset in front of you.

“No, honestly. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you just left me for dead.” JJ pursued his lips, swallowing back a lump that formed in his throat. You heard the croak in his voice and looked up to his face, seeing his blue eyes glistening. Was JJ about to cry in front of you? The thought made you uncomfortable, you didn’t know how to comfort someone you hated. But did you really hate him?

“JJ,” You sighed, sitting up straight. “I-that thought never even occurred to me… to leave you, I mean. You’re Kie’s friend, and that means I have your back.”

JJ licked his lips, looking down at you and he forced a closed smile, trying not to let the tears fall. “I was thinking… I think we should try to be friends.” You were shocked at his words, and you raised your brow as if asking him to elaborate on this sudden epiphany. “I’m tired of arguing with you, and after seeing you beat up those two kooks, I don’t want to be on your bad side anymore.”

You stiffened a laugh, chuckling along with JJ. You shook your head, a small smile on your face before you nodded, agreeing. “Let’s try this.” You reached your hand out to JJ, watching him shake it as if you just made a million-dollar deal. “But if I remember correctly, you were once a victim of my right hook.”

“Please don’t remind me. That traumatized me.”

This trip was slowly starting to make its way into the top three of your favorites. Ever since JJ waved the white flag of surrender, everything felt a lot easier. You weren’t looking over your shoulder every twenty minutes waiting for him to make a comment and your brain wasn’t working on overdrive trying to come back with a good enough comeback. Instead, you were actually laughing with him and getting along with him better than you expected.

That’s how you ended up being the one to collect him from one of his work places. You were parked outside a massive, fancy hotel tapping your fingers against the steering wheel of John B’s van waiting for the blonde to appear. Never in a million years did you think you would willingly volunteer to collect JJ from work. You knocked down the sunshade, looking in the mirror at your appearance and cringing at the sight of the purple bruise still evident on your face. It was slowly getting better and sometimes, you even forgot it was there.

“That makes you look like a badass.” JJ chimed, jumping into the passenger side of the van. You jumped at the sound of his voice, shooting him a glare. “Sorry.” He laughed, a pink tint framing his cheeks.

You started the van up driving in the direction of John B’s house, the feeling of excitement brewing now that you were finally going to be able to join them down at the boneyard. You liked how there wasn’t intense tension surrounding you, it was comfortable despite only being friends for a couple of days. “For your information, I am a badass.”

JJ whistled, rolling down the window and sticking his arm out. “Don’t I know it,” He grinned at you, and you noticed a fresh cut on his face.

“How’d you get that?” Your eyes flickered from the road to his face, watching his fingers wipe the dried in blood. “Nearly seventeen and you’re still getting into fights…” You hummed, raised eyebrows.

“You’re not the only badass in this van.” He winked, making you roll your eyes.

“No, but you’re the only dumbass.” Looking out the driver’s window, you hid the smile that was spreading across your face. JJ chuckled, reaching for his hat to take it off and he ran his fingers through his mop of blonde hair before putting it back on backwards. “Do you want to go home first to get changed?”

JJ’s breath hitched in his throat, eying the shorts he was wearing and the grey shirt. He noted the blood stain on his shorts, but shook his head in protest. “Nah, I’ll be good.” You ignored the shaking in his voice, nodding in acknowledgement before stepping on the gas.

You walked onto the beach, side by side with JJ, and were surprised when you noticed how big the crowd already was. It was nearing the end of the summer, every touron wanted to get their last kegger in before they had to go back to their mundane life. You understood how they felt, knowing you weren’t going to be here for much longer. It didn’t take long for you to allocate the Pogues gathered around a beer keg and you danced over to where Kiara was, your hips swaying to the music. JJ couldn’t help watch you as you left his side, nibbling on his bottom lip. A blush crept up his neck when he realised that he was checking out your ass and he swallowed his saliva, bringing his attention to where Pope was.

“What was that?” His friend asked him, looking between you and the blonde.

“Umh, nothing.” JJ responded, taking the cup filled with liquor that JB offered him.

“You were totally checking Y/N out, man. Since when did that happen?” John B chimed into the conversation making JJ groan with annoyance.

“I was not.” He defended himself, chucking the beer back. His eyes looked over the rim of the red cup, watching you laugh with Sarah and Kie. His heart fluttered and that feeling of nausea was back, which he realised was not a feeling of being revolted by your presence, instead it was a mixture of nerves and lust.

“Look, he’s doing it again.” John B laughed, “I can’t believe this.”

“Can’t believe what?” Sarah asked, walking up to the brunette and wrapped her arms around his neck. Instantly, his arms circled around her waist pulling her body closer to him. JJ shot John B a pointed look, as if telling him not to say another word, but that only maybe Sarah’s face washed over with confusion. “What’s going on?”

“I just got into another fight with one of your kind.” JJ replied, finishing his drink and filling it up again. Sarah rolled her eyes, choosing to ignore him. She was used to his anger and distaste to Kooks and she just learned to live with it.

When you twirled around to the music, your body froze and your stare was focused on three Kooks making their own onto the beach. Their eyes were scanning the crowd, as if looking for something, or someone. You made your way over to JJ who situated himself on a large log beside Pope, you subtly tapped him on the shoulder and he looked up at you in shock. His eyes followed your stare and they widened, he stood up from his sitting position and grabbed your hand, dragging you in the opposite direction of the three boys that you punched nearly a week ago.

Your friends' eyes all followed your retreating bodies, confusion evident on everyone’s face but you decided it was best to explain later. JJ led you away from the scanning eyes. You couldn’t help but notice how warm his hand felt in yours, his fingers engulfed yours and when he pulled you in the direction of the lifeguard’s hut, your thoughts imagined other ways that he could use his strength over you.

“In here,” JJ instructed, opening the hut and letting you enter first. He closed the door behind him, his heart hammering against his chest as he looked out onto the beach from the windows and trying to scan for the men. He stood there in front of you, you remained in the middle of the wooden room, he was conflicted with his decision to bring you here but he wasn’t in the mood for another fight. JJ looked at you and he let out a nervous laugh, reaching to scratch the back of his neck. A string of giggles escaped from your throat and you shook your head, releasing a sigh of relief you didn’t realise you were holding.

“We can’t hide in here all night.” You chuckled, leaning against the bare wall. “Or we should have bought some alcohol if we were.”

“Shit, yeah…” JJ muttered, looking around the room to see that it was nearly empty. A desk and a chair occupied the room, an empty cooler and that was it. He hummed along to the music that felt like miles away but he knew the song well enough to go on his own. “We’ll just hang here for a bit, wait until they fuck off.”

“Were they the ones that gave you that cut?” You asked, bringing his attention to the new addition to his injuries.

JJ chewed on the inside of his cheek, not wanting to get into the conversation of him fighting but when you looked up at him with those eyes, he wanted to tell you every little detail. He wasn’t used to feeling like this around people, and he definitely wasn’t expecting to feel like this around you but you brought a sense of calmness to him. “No, this was actually Topper.”

“Is he still bothering you?” You gasped, shaking your head in disbelief. “They just don’t give up, do they?”

“Nah, they’re pretty stubborn.”

“Nearly as stubborning as the Pogues.” Teasing him, you liked the way that he didn’t take offense to everything you said now and how he welcomed little bickers with you. The longer you were stuck in the hut with him, the more time it gave you to watch him. He was definitely attractive, probably the best looking man on this island but there was something behind his eyes, something that made him look lost and sad. The thought of him hurting made your chest tighten.

JJ kicked your ankles gently, making you crash to the floor. He tumbled with laughter, bending over and holding his stomach. You looked up at him from the floor, shocked. “I-I’m sorry but you… you were asking for it.” He said in between his howls of laughter. When his laughter calmed down, you dived into simple conversation about your lives and it just flowed so easily. It wasn’t until the sun completely set that you knew it was time to burst this bubble you have formed and head back to the rest of the Pogues. JJ stood up first, reaching to grab your hand and pull you up. You expected him to let go but you didn’t complain when his fingers intertwined with yours and he walked out of the hut.

The smile on your face only lasted a couple of seconds, when you came face to face with a boy that you met briefly last week when you introduced him to your first. “That’s them, officer.”

“Wh-what?” You coughed out, looking at the three kooks that were occupied by the county sheriff. “What’s going on?” You yelled, when JJ’s hand got ripped from yours. The commotion slowed down, everything felt like a blur and you could hear the cackle of the three unnamed boys.

“You’re under arrest for…” The blood pumped in your ears and you looked at JJ in shock, his face going pale. You screamed when your arms were pulled behind you and tears formed in your eyes when the feeling of steel wrapped around your wrist.

“Hey, hey, leave her alone. It had nothing to do with her.” JJ yelled in protest, the sheriff looked at the boy before shrugging.

“Fine, looks like you’re my bitch for the night then.” He released the handcuffs that were on your wrist but the tears didn’t falter. You watched as he bent JJ over, tightening the cuffs on his wrist making him wince.

“JJ-” You started but he shook his head, ceasing your protests.

“This ain’t my first rodeo, princess.” The blue-eyed boy chuckled, but you caught sight of a single tear rolling down his cheek. You watched him disappear into the darkness with the sheriff, the three boys trailing behind them. You choked out tears before retreating back to the Pogues, hoping someone will be able to help JJ.

The days went by slowly, it was strangely quiet around the Chateau now that JJ wasn’t crashing there. The last you heard, bail was posted but he hadn’t left his house since. When you went back to the gang, they kept interrogating you with questions about what happened the night at The Wreck and you came clear with them. It was silly not telling them when it first happened, especially Kiara, but it just felt like a secret that bonded you and JJ. You didn’t realise how much you were missing the blonde; everytime the door to John B’s house, you perked up but then deflated much to your other friends’ dismay.

You only had a week left on the Island and the longer you were alone with your own thoughts, the more you began to see JJ in a different light. When the anger and frustration towards him that fogged your mind dispersed, you couldn’t help but deny the obvious connection you had created with him in such a small time. It’s why you found yourself walking towards his house, knowing where he lived because Kie would drive by to pick him up with you in the car sometimes.

When the house came into view, you hitched a breath of nerves. How were you going to tell the man you once hated that you actually liked him? The only benefit to this plan was that you were leaving soon, so if he didn’t share the same feelings, it would give you a year to get over him. You walked up the trial, seeing someone on the porch. The closer you got, the more attention the man paid to you.

“Can I help you?” He called out, making you stop in your tracks.

“H-hi, I’m just looking for JJ, is he here?” Your voice was shy, almost weak as the man stared you down. He stood up from the stool he was sitting on and leaned up against the wooden porch, eying you up and down. You swallowed back a lump in your throat, feeling suddenly uncomfortable.

“What’s a pretty girl like you want with a piece of shit like my son?” The words JJ’s father spoke shocked you, your eyes widening.

“E-excuse me, sir?” You stuttered, not sure if he was joking with you but his expression remained stern. You were about to answer his question when JJ walked out of the door, not noticing you at first. His grey cap rested over his messy hair and he was wearing an unbuttoned shirt. He looked at his father before following his line of sight and his blue eyes widened when he saw you.

JJ rushed from the porch, grabbing the top of your arm and pulling you away from his house. “What are you doing here?” He hissed through clenched teeth. He dragged you out of sight from his father, who returned to what he was working on before. You were still in shock with what his father said about him, and it wasn’t until JJ spoke again that your attention was brought to his face. “Well?”

Your eyes scanned JJ’s face, his whole left side bruised and his lip was busted again. He hasn’t been seen around the island in days, and your eyes trailed down his chest that was exposed, showing more bruises littering around his torso. “JJ-” You gasped, reaching out to softly caress his chest. JJ winced at the touch, not because it hurt him but because it brought a sudden wave of comfort over him and his eyes fluttered closed. You began putting the pieces of the puzzle together and your heart ached. “JJ, was this your father?” You whimpered, his eyes locked on you and the watering of them gave you your answer. “Oh my god…”

“Look… Y/n, the boys know, alright? I-it’s not some crazy secret…” JJ muttered, his bottom lip began trembling and you immediately wrapped your arms around his body, pulling him closer to you. JJ hesitated for a moment before he circled his arms around you as well, bringing his face into the crook of your neck and you could feel his chest heaving as he sobbed into you.

You didn’t care how much time passed by as you stood there holding JJ, you wouldn’t care even if it started lashing rain. You were going to hold him for as long as he needed. “I’m so sorry…” JJ huffed into your neck and his breath tickling your skin, sending goosebumps down your body.

“No, JJ, you don’t have to be sorry.” You whispered, running your hand up and down his back as a soothing technique. JJ pulled back, much to your dismay and your hands left his body. The coldness immediately swamping around you, but you tried to hide the disappointment on your face. “Was this my fault?” You asked, pointing to his busted lip.

“What? No, of course not.”

“If you didn’t get arrested that night, would this have happened?” You questioned again, and you felt nauseous at the look on JJ’s face that confirmed your thoughts. “Oh god…” You mumbled, your hand covering your mouth as you started to cry. “I’m so sorry.” It was your turn to apologise, and you kept repeating it over and over again.

JJ hesitated again before wrapping you in his arms this time. “Look, if it wasn’t that night. It would have been another night. I don’t blame you in the slightest.” JJ reassured you, brushing your hair down with his hand. He’s never comforted a crying girl before, and he never thought he would be the one to ever comfort you but he liked it. He liked looking after you.

“I’m sorry,” You said again, causing JJ to groan. “You don’t deserve to be treated like this.” You whispered softly into his chest. The words caused JJ’s heart to skip a beat, you saying that meant more to him than you’d ever known. He was the one that gave you such a hard time on the island, he knew you gave him just the same amount of challenges, but to hear you say that he deserved better made him feel like he already had better with you.

“Stop saying that.” He chuckled, smiling amongst the tears trying to ignore the bubbling feeling of adoration. His eyes were red and puffed, his face flushed and you knew you probably resembled his look, except he probably pulled it off a lot better than you did. “What has you here anyways?” JJ asked, wanting nothing more than to bring the attention away from his father’s antics.

You sighed, realising that now was definitely not the time to tell him how you truly felt. Licking your lips, you forced a closed smile in his direction. “I-we missed you, we wanted to see how you were doing.”

“We?” JJ asked, raising his brows and his lips held a teasing smirk that made your stomach erupt in butterflies.

“We, you know, your friends.” You laughed, smacking his chest playfully.

“That’s a pity…” He replied, pouting at you.

“What is?” Your eyes narrowed, daring him to continue this banter that was bouncing between your bodies.

JJ was about to say something but his father’s voice interrupted him. He yelled something incoherent and JJ groaned, “I have to get back.”

You grabbed JJ’s hand in yours as he started to walk away, pulling him to a stop. He raised his brow in your direction, but you just sent him a small smile. “Come by the chateau tonight, please.” You didn’t want him going back to his father but you knew you had no power over him and his decisions. JJ returned your smile, his eyes softening and he tugged his hand from yours, walking back to his house.

When JJ walked into the chateau later that night, he was met with the cheers and sighs of relief from his friends. He greeted everyone with hugs and fistbumps before his eyes found your body, he sent you a quick wink and you just rolled your eyes, biting your bottom lip to stop the grin erupting on your face. It was a relief to you that he was here, you knew he was safer here than anywhere else on the island.

It shocked you when JJ took a beer from the fridge and planted himself down beside you, his thigh touching yours. He stretched his legs out in front of him and he slumped closer to you. “Hey,” He said, flinging his hat off to hit John B on the head. His blonde hair remained tousled around his forehead, even after he dragged in fingers through it. Oh, how you wished you could feel your fingers going through it. The thought caused your face to heat up, and you turned your attention to Kie and Pope in their own conversation.

The night passed by quicker than you wanted it to. Another day closer to returning home. It was nice having everyone back over, it just wasn’t complete when JJ wasn’t around. He brought a light of joy and laughter to the room, despite the circumstances that he was going through. You appreciated him, a lot and you wish you could tell him just how you felt.

Kie stood up from the floor, arms stretching above her head and she looked at you. “Ready to go?” You hummed in agreement, trying to hide your disappointment as you followed her actions.

JJ’s heart raced when you stood up and he reached out to grab your wrist, you looked down at him in confusion. “I-uhm, I can walk you home in a while, if you want.” He mumbled, trying not to gain the attention of his friends but it was too late. Kiara’s eyes widened, Pope and John B shared a bewildered look and you looked like a deer in the headlights.

You swallowed back the shock before nodding, “Yeah, yeah, I’d like that.”

“Well, okay. I guess I’ll see you in the morning.” Kie hummed in confusion, not knowing what was going on.

“I’ll come with you then.” Pope smiled, not wanting Kiara to leave by herself even though he knew no one would mess with her. They both left together after saying their goodbyes. It was just you, JJ, and John B left in the living room.

John B twisted on his heels, looking between the pair of you. JJ nodded his head towards his bedroom, trying to get him to leave them alone. John B choked on the beer he had taken a sip of, “I’ll leave you two… alone?” John B furrowed his brows and retreated to his bedroom, muttering something underneath his breath.

You stayed quiet, picking at a loose thread on your shorts. You were very aware of the fact that JJ was looking at you, studying your facial expressions. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you just there.” JJ broke the silence, you twisted on your seat to look at him, shaking your head.

“You didn’t embarrass me, JJ. Why would you think they did?”

“They probably think something is going on between us,” JJ chuckled, and you tried to play it off as a joke, “I just wanted to say thank you, for earlier I mean. You didn’t have to come over to check on me.”

“I wanted to.” You smiled at him, watching him suck in his bottom lip. You wanted to groan at the action, finding it unbelievably sexy. “I never thanked you for taking the fall for me either.”

JJ sighed, running his hand over his face. “It was my fault you got into the fight, it was the least I could do especially when you hated me at the time.”

Hated me. The words suppressed your mind, they got you thinking. “To be honest with you, JJ. I don’t think I ever really hated you.” You looked at his expression seeing it softening and he looked more vulnerable than he usually does. “I think it was a way to disguise other feelings…” You added, cringing when the words left your lips.

“W-what?” JJ questioned, sitting up straighter. You quickly stood up from the couch, the action startling JJ and he followed your lead. He stood up, watching you nearly start hyperventilating. He grabbed your shoulders, stopping you from pacing and his eyes studied your face. “You like me?” He asked, his pink lips parted.

You whined something inaudible, avoiding his face before nodding shyly. “Yeah, I do, JJ and I don’t know when I started to feel like this, it… it just happened.”

“Are you sure?” JJ insisted, his arms still holding onto you tightly. When you nodded again, JJ pulled you closer to his body and scanned your face quickly, for any hint of regret or hesitation, before he crashed his lips onto yours. JJ forgot what it was like to share a kiss with someone he actually cared about, he was sweet and patient with it. He brought his hand to your cheek, cupping it as his lips moved with yours. Your world felt like it was spinning, like this couldn’t be happening but it was. You were kissing JJ Maybank and your heart was filling with love, admiration, happiness with every second that passed.

JJ pulled away from your lips, his eyes fluttering open and you could feel his lashes tickling your face. You opened your eyes to see his blue orbs sparkling. “Do that again.” You whispered, bringing your lips to his, not wanting to forget how this moment felt. You ignored the twisting in your gut reminding you that you were leaving in less than a week, that you would be leaving this island and not returning for far too long. It was as if the same feelings washed over JJ and he pulled back, sighing. “What?” You whispered.

“I just can’t believe that it’s taken me this long to feel this.” JJ enlightened you, embracing you tightly. “And I’ll be losing you soon.”

You lifted your palm to JJ’s face, brushing your fingers over the evident bruises before kissing his nose, then each of his cheeks, then his lips again for a second. “You won’t ever lose me, JJ. You’re stuck with me now.”

He chuckled at your words, bringing his lips back to yours and you fell into a sweet routine that consisted of the perfect amount of talking and kissing. You both agreed to not talk about you leaving, enjoying every moment that you had together from then onwards.

🌻 🌻 🌻 🌻

apologies for any typos, i wasn’t arsed to proofread it after spending hours writing it oops

but pls gimme feedback, i beg, ty

488 notes · View notes

supernatural-jackles · 5 years ago

Text

Seeing You Again

Title: Seeing You Again

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 10,871

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Mentions of Virginity Loss, Implications of Depression, Smut, Love Lost, Divorce, Tears. Jensen is an innocent, love struck sweetheart.

Summary: Fifteen years had passed since you had seen the love of your life, Jensen Ackles. Your childhood sweetheart, the man of your dreams. The two of you separated against your wishes. Until he walks into your bakery one day without knowing you owned it. You never expected old feelings to resurface, let alone something more

Square Filled: Childhood Sweethearts ( @spnfluffbingo) First Time ( @spngenrebingo)

A/N: Happy Tuesday!! My posting schedule is remaining the same from now until the middle of August. You get a new update every Tuesday and Sunday!! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Happy reading!

You tied your apron around your waist, making sure it was secure before bunching up your hair in a quick messy bun. It was a busy Saturday afternoon and you had multiple things on the go already.

You were a baker; at least that was one of your job titles anyways. Business owner, workaholic, you name it. You lived a busy life. You worked six days a week at the bakery you owned in Dallas Texas, and had for the last three years. A successful little place you called Sweethearts. A name you had picked out for longer than you’d ever admit to anyone.

Every day was something new. A new order, or arrangement of orders. New faces, and familiar faces. The same smiles and thank you’s you got with every purchase. It was something you loved doing. You loved to bake and you loved to see the look on people’s faces when they picked up one of your creations for someone they loved.

This was your dream, believe it or not. You had always wanted to own your own business and be your own boss. You were never one for following the rules, no matter who the leader was. You never wanted to be some corporate lawyer, or a nine to five, hating every second of life kind of person. You wanted every day to be an adventure. You wanted to be independent.

You rolled out the fondant on your bakers table, getting ready to throw it over your double chocolate cookie cake for a special order. A lady wanted something special for her son’s tenth birthday so you were making a cookie monster cake in hopes he’d like it. In the distance, the timer for your oven went off, indicating that your in house pie was done.

Saturday’s were typically busy days. Today was no different. Thankfully you had most of your orders done for the morning. It was only this cake that needed finished before you could take a break and make some simple cookies.

“Hey Y/N, someone wants to see you,” your assistant called back. You wiped your hands on your apron as you walked out into the front of your shop. An older lady was standing there, a wide smile playing on her lips.

“Hi there,” you greeted her.

“Are you the owner of this place?” she asked.

“Why yes I am,” you nodded. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“I just wanted to give compliments to you. You run a very nice business. The treats are out of this world. In all my time, I’ve never had a chocolate chip cookie taste so good,” she beaned.

“Thank you! That means a lot to me,” you nodded with a smile.

“If you’re not already taken, my grandson would love a woman like you,” she teased, adjusting her jacket around her arms.

“I’m married to my work,” you told her. “Someone has to make all the orders.”

“Well, you let me know,” she winked. “Take care now.”

You waved the older lady off, watching her walk out the front door of your shop. Each seat was taken. You watched as people sipped away at their coffees and every one of them had some sort of baked good from your display. You were finally doing something right.

“You know, you’re going to have to settle down someday,” your assistant, Victoria smiled at you.

“I know,” you sighed. “Someday.”

You walked into the back, getting back into finishing your cake. It needed to be done in less than an hour for the woman picking it up. You had to get your blue buttercream ready for the top of the cake, and the few cookies you had set aside to finish the top. It was going to be a breeze. You couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when she saw the cake. The customer's reaction was always one of your favourite things. You loved seeing their smile.

You took a deep breath, mixing up the buttercream and food colouring to get the correct consistency. Your mind wandered back to the older lady for a moment. Sure you were thirty one, but you had tons of time to settle down and find someone to spend the rest of your life with. Right now, you were a business woman. You had that and it was one hundred percent what your focus was on. You needed to continue to be successful. Relationships were overrated anyways.

You poured the buttercream into the piping bag and began your design. You were excited to see how this was going to turn out. If it was good, it was definitely going on your instagram page.

You could feel the sweat forming at your brow as you continued the last strokes on the cake. It looked amazing if you were to say so yourself. It turned out much better than you were expecting it to, times a million. This was definitely going to make that ten year old’s birthday.

“Customer is here for the cake order,” Victoria called back to you.

“Coming right out.”

You boxed up the cake in a nice blue one you had custom made for purposes like this. It already said happy birthday on the side, along with some balloons. It was all about making the customer happy. You carefully lifted it off the counter and headed out to the front of the store with it in hand.

“Alright, cookie monster cake,” you smiled, placing it down on the counter by the register, opening it up. “Cookie dough cake inside, along with homemade chocolate chip cookies on top and a blue buttercream topping,” you smiled proudly, looking down at your cake.

“Gotta say Y/N, I always knew you’d be successful,” a deep voice said. You hadn’t even looked up at the customer yet. That voice was so familiar, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on who it was. Until you finally glanced up. Those piercing green eyes boring into yours.

“J-Jensen?” you breathed out.

“You’ve outdone yourself,” he smiled at you.

“W-what are you doing here?” you cocked your head to the side.

“My sister in law sent me to pick up the cake for my nephews tenth birthday,” he said. “I had no idea this was your place. Although, I have to say, it’s very you if I remember correctly.”

“Thank you,” you smiled.

“How much do I owe you?” he asked.

“Uh, twenty two dollars,” you breathed out.

“Do you accept tips?” he questioned as he reached for his wallet in his back pocket.

“Yes,” you nodded.

“Perfect. All I have is a fifty. Keep the change, sweetheart,” he winked. “You certainly deserve it. This cake looks perfect.”

“Thanks Jensen,” you swallowed hard, not daring to take your eyes off of him. That fucking nickname. The whole reason why this place was called Sweethearts. The man you had fallen in love with all those years ago. “Take care.”

You watched as he walked out the door with the box in his hands. You couldn’t believe it. Out of all the people you expected to walk in, he was never one of them. The man you had grown up with. The first and only man you had every loved with your whole heart. The one that slipped away.

“Who was that?” Melaine, your part time girl who helped keep your shop in working order.

“Just some guy I used to know a long time ago,” you smiled at her.

“Did you guys used to be together?” she inquired as she poured a cup of coffee.

“Yeah, for a while,” you breathed out.

“Well, with the way he was looking at you, I’d say there is definitely some feelings still there,” she chuckled. “I wish my boyfriend looked at me the way Jensen just looked at you.”

“Who was looking at who?” Victoria popped her head out and asked.

“A very hot customer was looking at Y/N. Apparently they have history,” Melanie wiggled her eyebrows.

“Shut up,” you shook your head, trying to repress your smile.

“Awwww,” Victoria cooed.

“He had heart eyes for her. Major heart eyes,” she beamed.

“You guys, he’s an old friend. Nothing more. Now we’re dropping it,” you stated before walking back into the kitchen to begin your clean up.

Your heart was still racing in your chest. It had been a really long time since you had seen Jensen in person. Sure, you followed all of his social media and kept up with what he was doing. He was an actor and had been for the longest time. He was successful at what he wanted to do and you cheered him on from your own tiny part of the world. But seeing him again after all this time, it wasn’t easy. It made you realize just how much you missed the way he’d call you sweetheart. You missed that in the sound of his voice, which was a lot deeper than it was the last time you heard it directed at you.

The afternoon dragged on and four became six. Victoria and Melaine cleaned everything out front and took a few things to go home. You were left with closing up and counting the money made in sales before you could head home. You were just packaging up the last of the cookies when you heard the ding of the door.

“Sorry, we’re closed now. We open back up on Monday,” you called out, closing the packet.

“Uh, sorry,” the familiar voice said, causing you to look up. Jensen was standing by the door with a nervous look on his face. You swallowed hard, not knowing where exactly you should look at him.

“Jensen,” you breathed out.

“Hey,” he half smiled, taking a step forward.

“Hi,” you said awkwardly, instantly cursing yourself for it. “Did your nephew like his cake?”

“Oh yeah,” he let out a chuckle. “Said it was the best birthday cake he’s ever had.”

“Good, I’m glad,” you nodded.

“How long have you been in Texas?” he asked, making his way over to the counter.

“Almost thirteen years now,” you told him.

“T-thirteen years?”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I hated it in Minnesota.”

“You’ve always been a Texan at heart,” he smirked, going quiet for a moment. “You know, you’re even more beautiful now than you were fifteen years ago.”

“Jensen,” your cast your eyes down, unsure of what to say. “We’re not the same people we were back then.”

“I know,” he nodded, licking his bottom lip before he looked at you. “Doesn’t mean you’re not beautiful.”

“What are you doing here, Jensen?” you asked him, opening up the package of cookies, motioning for him to take one.

“I - uh,” he paused, bringing his hand up to the back of his neck. “I was hoping that maybe I’d catch you before you headed home. Uh, maybe see if you would want to go out for dinner? Catch up?”

“You sure you want to do that mister famous actor?” you teased him, watching his chest fall as he let out a laugh.

“So you’ve been keeping up a little,” he said with a chuckle.

“Here and there,” you shrugged. “I do have to finish up here before I do anything.”

“Anything I can help with?” He offered as he took a cookie from the packet. You smiled, closing it right, trying not to look at Jensen. “These taste amazing. They are even better than I remember.”

“Same recipe I used before,” you told him. “If you want to pack up the rest of these while I do the deposit, I’d appreciate it. I know it’s not what you’re used to.”

“Nah. Put me to work,” he assured you.

You showed him where the containers were and he got to work instantly, starting from the right side of the display, moving onwards. You headed over to the cash, taking out the register to bring it to your office which was right by the display.

“How long has this place been open?” Jensen asked you.

“Almost three years,” you answered, emptying out the till.

“Gotta say, you’re pretty successful here,” he told you. “Lots of customers. Bakery is amazing. I always thought you’d open up one in Minnesota.”

“I couldn’t wait to leave,” you admitted. “I lasted two years before I came back to Texas. It’s always been my home.”

“Your mom still there?”

“Yeah, with her boyfriend dickwad,” you shared. “At least, that’s what I call him. Not the biggest fan of him if you couldn’t tell.”

“Your dad here then?”

“He’s around here somewhere. He stopped talking to me after mom took me away after the divorce was finalized,” you revealed. “Now, he doesn’t talk to me much.”

“That sucks,” he frowned.

“How long are you visiting for?” You dared to ask.

“Few days before I head back. Changed my flight,” he said lowly.

“When were you supposed to leave?” You cocked your eyebrow.

“Tomorrow at three in the morning,” he said sheepishly. “But I knew as soon as I saw you-“

“Jensen, dont,” you swallowed hard.

“C’mon, it’s not like we parted on bad terms,” he reminded you. “It’s not like either of us had a choice in the matter. You were leaving to move a million miles away.”

“I know,” you nodded. “But It’s different now. I’m not sixteen anymore. You’re not sixteen.”

“No. I’m thirty one,” he reminded you. “Back then, we didn’t have cell phones or whatever. It’s different now, but at the same time, it feels exactly the same.”

“It’s not going to work,” you shook your head.

“Okay, say you are right,” he paused, glancing over to you in the office. “Will you at least hang out with me for one night?”

“Considering you probably aren’t going to leave until I say yes, fine,” you stated.

“You’re not wrong,” he shrugged.

You finished counting up the money from the day and put it in the safe before locking it up. You pulled your keys out, grabbing your jacket before shutting the door behind you. You took a deep breath, seeing Jensen standing there waiting in anticipation. You knew this was going to be a mistake. You knew it the second he walked in here that this was a mistake. Too much time had gone by between you and you couldn’t let yourself snap back into what the two of you had before you parted ways.

“Ready?” he asked you.

“Yeah,” you nodded, tightening your jacket around yourself. Jensen placed his hand on your back, walking with you towards the front doors of your little shop. You pulled your purse over your shoulder before switching keys to lock up the place.

He stood by the curb, his hand in the air to hail a taxi to take the two of you wherever. You could feel your stomach getting tighter. You were nervous. Something you hadn’t felt around a guy in a very long time.

A taxi pulled over to the side of the road, stopping right in front of you and Jensen. You let out a shaky breath as he opened up the door, motioning for you to get in first. He joined you seconds later, shutting the door.

“Hi, could you drop us off at Beertown please,” Jensen said to the driver. A young man who simply nodded his head without a word. It took everything in you not to look over at Jensen. You wanted to so bad. You wanted to see if the freckles still dusted over his cheeks. You wanted to see the greens of his eyes and get lost in the millions of stories he had seen over the years.

It was a short ride to the restaurant he was taking you to. One of the ones you frequented growing up. You were never legal to drink, but the food was amazing and so was the atmosphere. It was where he took you for your first date. One you’d never forget. You were more nervous about this dinner than you were on the first date.

He helped you out of the taxi and led you to the front door of the restaurant. You took another deep breath, trying to control yourself as the waiter led you to your table in the back. Somewhere a little more private as Jensen asked for.

“It feels like it was a lifetime ago that we were here,” he commented.

“It was a lifetime ago,” you said. “We were fifteen. Still in high school.”

“Back when everything was simple and all we had to worry about was finals,” he chuckled.

“That and I remember worrying about my parents fighting all the time. ‘T’s why I spent so much time with you at your place. Your family always got along, unlike mine. I liked it there,” you shared.

“It sucked a lot when you were gone,” he swallowed hard. “I know we parted on good terms but it was hard without you.”

“Least you had your friends though,” you reminded him.

“I still have your letter,” he confessed. “In my apartment in Vancouver. I still have it.”

“Really?” you breathed out.

“Yeah,” he smiled. “I wrote you back and then never heard from you again.”

“Mom was pissed at me,” you sighed. “Moving away from everything and everyone I knew was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do. It was worse when she didn’t listen to me when I told her I was struggling. Failed three classes my last semester of high school. Managed to get into UT and left. I was homesick and I missed you.”

“I missed you,” he stated. “Hell, I went to prom with my buddies.”

“I think we made it worse for ourselves though, Jensen,” you breathed out.

“Hey there. What can I get for the two of you?” the waiter smiled, pulling out her notepad.

“We’ll have two classic burgers, some fries and two of whatever you have on tap please,” Jensen told him.

“Coming right up,” he nodded, taking off to the next table.

“What do you mean you think we made things worse?” he cocked his head to the side, folding his arms on the table.

“I think you know exactly what I mean, Jay,” you said lowly.

“Are you - do you mean the night before you left?” he furrowed his brows. “The night we-”

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“Do you regret it?” he inquired.

“No. Of course not. But it made everything a million times harder,” you revealed. “It was all I could think about from the time I left until I got there. Even then, I thought it wasn’t going to be so bad because we were both applying to UT and we were going to see each other again soon enough.”

“But I didn’t,” he frowned. “I left for LA instead.”

“It is what it is,” you nodded. “There isn’t a day that goes by that I’m not proud of you. I want you to know that. I’ve been following you from the start. I watch every episode, and every movie. I’ve seen your interviews and I follow all your accounts on everything. Hell I’ve even seen some convention footage.”

“I wish I could do the same with you,” he brought up. “Trust me, I’ve looked and haven’t been successful so far. Made me wonder if you got married and changed your name.”

“No. I’m not married,” you chuckled. “Not to anyone at least. Work maybe.”

“Here are your meals and your beer. Enjoy!” the waiter smiled as he placed everything down on the table. He even brought some ketchup for the fries and a bottle of vinegar. You gave him a warm smile with your thank you, looking forward to diving in.

“What about you?” you dared to ask.

“What about me?” he furrowed his brows.

“C’mon, a guy like you has to have a girlfriend,” you teased him.

“Nope,” he shook his head, picking up his burger.

“Yeah, I find that very hard to believe. Girls were always fawning over you in high school and I’ve seen what people say about you on the internet,” you giggled.

“See, the only one that mattered to me was you. You have had my attention since I met you in kindergarten,” he let out a laugh. “My parents always said we were childhood sweethearts.”

“We were,” you agreed. “You were my first everything, Jensen. Quite frankly, I’m glad you were too.”

“Why is that?” he cocked his eyebrow.

“Because you treated me like a queen,” you shrugged, taking a fry off the plate. “You treated me better than anyone’s first boyfriend does at that age. You set my expectations high, which is why I’m not married or with anyone. No one can live up to the simple standards you set when we were sixteen years old.”

“Good,” he declared. “You deserve to be treated like a queen. Don’t settle for anything less. I was honoured to be your knight in shining armour.”

“You mean king?” you corrected him.

“No,” he shook his head. “I’m simply a knight, sweetheart.” And just like that, you melted into the seat. You felt like you were sixteen again, sitting in the passenger's seat of his truck, staring out at the sunset in the field. The little moments that meant a lot to you.

“Well I beg to differ, darlin’,” you winked, trying to play it cool. Your heart was beating a mile a minute. How could it possibly feel like no time had passed between you? Fifteen years had gone by and yet, you connected if it was just yesterday.

“I missed that,” he smirked.

“What?” you cocked your head to the side.

“You calling me darlin’, or honey,” he admitted almost nervously. “For the record, you made me feel like a king, even if I was a knight.”

You grabbed your burger off your plate, finally taking a bite from it. The flavours danced on your tastebuds, bringing you back. This whole night was filled with nostalgia. You came to the conclusion that this couldn’t happen again after tonight. It was too hard to sit with him, and reminisce about how great things were many years ago. It was hard to sit with him and look at his soft features you had spent so much time with and know that it was in the past. Jensen was your best friend growing up. He was your rock. Your light in the darkness. But you couldn’t let him back into your life again and have things go sour this time around. You needed to keep those happy memories happy. Not turn them into something you have to speak to a therapist about in two years.

“When do you leave?” you asked him, taking a sip of your beer.

“Monday night,” he answered, taking a fry off the plate. “So I’m here another day and a bit.”

“I’m sure your parents are happy to see you,” you half smiled.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “They think I work too much. I don’t visit often enough according to them.”

“Your parents are cute,” you giggled. “They still have your bedroom in tact?”

“No actually. They did some renovations on the house and turned my room into one of the kids rooms when they have over the grandkids. I’m staying in a hotel for the next few nights. They have an extra room in the basement for me but it’s not ready yet.”

“Your parents were always the busy type,” you pointed out. “Your mom was always doing something when I was there.”

You watched as Jensen brought his beer up to his lips, taking a good drink of it. Your eyes wandered over his features once more. His soft hair sticking up and leaning a little more to his right. The crinkles by his eyes made you smile, especially when he did. He was handsome and he only got better with age. He had grown into himself now that you allowed yourself to look at him. He wasn’t a scrawny kid anymore.

“Can I get you guys anything for dessert?” the waiter asked as he cleared away your plates.

“No thank you,” you mouth to Jensen.

“No thanks, can we just get the cheque please,” he nodded politely.

You sat still in your seat, reaching for your phone in your purse to check your messages. This wasn’t a date, you reminded yourself. This was acceptable and this was you check on your business. You had no email orders thankfully and everything else looked fine. It was seeming more likely that you could have a day to rest tomorrow instead of in the kitchen. You took a deep breath, hoping that maybe you and Jensen would part ways after this and you could head home to spend the night in your apartment.

The waiter came over, placing the cheque on the table. Before you could even look at it, Jensen had taken out his wallet and placed some money inside it. He never let you pay for dinner, even back then.

“Thank you for dinner, Jensen,” you smiled at him.

“Thank you for joining me,” he half smiled. “Any chance your night is free?”

“What did you have in mind?” you cocked your eyebrow.

“Honestly, nothing. I just don’t want to leave you yet,” he confessed. You were a little confused for a moment. You couldn’t understand why he wanted to spend more time with you. He was a famous actor now. You were a small town girl he was with a million years ago. You had history but this was almost too far. You appreciated his honesty. You just had a bad feeling about this.

“Jensen,” you breathed out, getting up from your seat. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“You feel it too?” he asked, almost sheepishly. You licked your bottom lip, your eyes casting down. Your heart rate picked up a little at his words. There was this awkward tension that had been sitting there with you most of the night, just waiting to make its move. It finally had.

“Feel what, exactly?” you dared to ask.

“This awkward weirdness that’s never been there before,” he pointed out. “Something telling you to walk away.”

“Yeah, I do,” you nodded, adjusting your purse over your shoulder. You let out a sigh. “But there is also this stupid feeling inside of me that’s stopping me from walking away. That same stupid feeling I got when you asked me to dinner.”

“That same feeling when you saw me earlier today,” he breathed out.

“Yeah,” you whispered.

“C’mon,” he motioned for you to follow him. You nodded your head, letting him lead the way out of the restaurant. The sun was starting to set, creating a nice warm orange tone in the sky. Jensen walked down the sidewalk, a few steps ahead of you.

What the hell were you doing? You barely knew him now. He was Jensen Ackles, a well known actor. You were Y/N Y/L/N. You owned a tiny bakery. That was your accomplishment. He had everything and so much more. He was the definition of success. Everyone loved him. You are not about to be a part of that. You were not about to be reckless after years of hard work.

“Jensen wait,” you swallowed hard, as you stopped in front of the park, taking a seat on the bench. He looked at you in confusion before taking a seat next to you.

“What’s up?”

“Where are we going?” you shrugged. “What are we doing?”

“I- I don’t know,” he sighed.

“I can’t do this, Jensen,” you shook your head. “I’m not doing this. I’m sorry. It was really nice seeing you after all this time.”

With that, you got up and started walking the other direction. You couldn’t sit there with him. You could go wherever he was going to take you and you certainly couldn’t let yourself get attached to the idea of loving him again. He was your childhood sweetheart. The one who taught you what love was and how to love someone with everything. Too much time had passed and you were two completely different people now. There was no changing that and you didn’t want to.

“Y/N, wait up,” you heard Jensen call out from behind you, followed by heavy footsteps, indicating that he was running after you.

“Jensen-“

Before you could even get a word out, his lips were on yours, kissing you hard. His hands came up to your cheeks, just like they used to when he kissed you unexpectedly. Your heart was fluttering in your chest and you could feel your lips tingling at the sudden contact. You wanted to reach out for him; pull him in close and kiss him like you used to for hours on end. His lips were soft along with the stubble growing on his face. You couldn’t deny kissing him back as your eyes fluttered shut. His breathing was heavy after running, shortening the kiss by quite a bit.

“Sorry,” he swallowed hard. “I had to.”

“It’s okay,” you nodded, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth nervously. Your eyes cast down for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts.

“Look, seeing you - it brought up a lot of memories that I don’t think I was ready for. I never really got over you, you know? You were in my life everyday for eleven years and then you were just gone and I barely got to say a proper goodbye.”

“You did,” you assured him. “That last night before when we had sex for the first time. That was goodbye.”

“You know that’s not what I mean,” he said softly. “I don’t want to leave this on bad terms.”

“We’re not going to,” you assured him. His lip curled upwards as his piercing green eyes met yours. You could feel the tension building between the two of you. His words swirling around in your head. He never really got over you, just the same as you never got over him. He was the one you lost all those years ago and it didn’t seem like he was walking away without a fight. Not this time.

“My hotel is just down the street. What do I have to do to convince you to come with me?” he smirked, brushing a stray piece of hair away from your face.

“Depends,” you played. “What are we going to do?”

“Nothing you aren’t comfortable with,” he said. “I just know I'm going to regret it if I don’t ask you.”

His words were honest. For a second, you saw a glimpse of a boy you knew a long time ago. A boy who was willing to do anything to put a smile on your face. Deep down, you knew he was still in there. He had to be for people to talk about him the way they did. He was admired by everyone he worked with.

“Alright,” you agreed, nodding your head.

“I’m not expecting anything-”

“I know,” you smiled.

“So what was Minnesota like?” he asked, throwing his arm around your shoulder as you walked down the sidewalk.

“Shitty,” you scoffed. “People aren’t that nice. After my first class at my new school, I went into the bathroom and cried. It was the first time I had no one and I was terrified. It’s why I came back to Texas. My mom was too busy with her new boyfriend to even notice.”

“You didn’t make any friends?” he furrowed his brows.

“No. Not a single one. I didn’t go to prom. I thought about skipping graduation,” you confessed. “I never want to feel like that again.”

“Anyone ask you to prom?” he cocked his head.

“Yeah, one guy,” you shook your head. “Only because he thought I was a virgin and he wanted to up his score.”

“Really?” he swallowed hard.

“I told him I had a boyfriend with a huge dick and I wasn’t interested in contracting herpes,” you let out a laugh.

“That’s my girl,” he smiled, pulling you in tighter to him.

“What about you? How many girlfriends have you had since?” you poked his side playfully.

“Three including you,” he answered. “I didn’t date anyone for a few years after you. I was about twenty when I started dating a girl who was a year younger and that lasted for about a year. She and I just didn’t click after sometime. Then a couple of years later, I met someone who was really cool. We dated for two years before calling it quits. I work too much and so did she. We were just better off without each other.”

“Sucks when you work a lot in a different country,” you breathed out.

“It does,” he agreed. “You dated anyone else?”

“One guy in college for about three years,” you shared. “Justin. Turns out you can date someone for three years and not really know them all that well.”

“Oh really?” he frowned, leading you into the front doors of the hotel.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I called you a king. Well this guy was more like a street rat in the end.”

“Like Aladdin kind of street rat?” he joked playfully.

“Shut up,” you giggled. “Worse. Aladdin at least had a good heart. He got the princess in the end. I’m talking about Jafar here!”

“Fuck that guy,” he stated. “You deserve better than that.”

“I had better than that,” you reminded him. “You ever think about what would have happened if my parents never split and I never would have left?”

“Sometimes,” he admitted. “I always come to the same conclusion though.”

“Which is?”

“You hating me,” he revealed. “If you never left, we would have made it to graduation and I would have left for LA and it would have been a messy break up and you would have hated me. Or I would have accidently knocked you up and ruined your life and you would have hated me. Say that never happened, I work in a different country and the distance would have driven us apart and you would have hated me. No situation has a good outcome.”

“You always were an overthinker,” you teased him.

“So are you,” he chuckled.

He led you over to the elevators on the right side of the hotel lobby. His arm was still around you, tucking you into him. You had a pretty good idea of what was going to happen as soon as you entered his hotel room. You knew his expectations were low, and you understood that. But god, did you miss him. You never really realized until his lips were on yours. Everything came flooding back to you. Suddenly, you were sixteen years old again and nothing had changed.

“Jensen,” you whispered as soon as the elevator doors shut. He leaned over, pressing number twenty seven. “I could never hate you.”

“Yeah, but you could not like me and that’s not something I want,” he admitted. “I’m going to be honest with you here. I know I’m a little off tonight. Not that you could tell, but I can.”

“You’re a little clingy,” you joked, wrapping your arm around his waist.

“My best friend got married two weeks ago,” he sighed. “I was one of his groomsmen at the wedding. I just see him with her and how happy they are, and when I did, the first thought that came to mind was you. I still think about you, more than I should. Maybe it’s because we never really split up for a bad reason. Both of us still had strong feelings for each other and we were ripped apart from each other. Then I saw you today, after looking for you for years, in Texas again and I - I just knew I had to take a chance.”

Your mouth went dry at his words as the elevator doors dinged open on floor twenty seven. You didn’t know exactly what to think. Did he just miss you? Was this a mid life, I’m never going to settle down kind of thing? Was he just thinking of you because of what you had a million years ago. Jensen didn’t know the person you were now. He didn’t know what the last fifteen years of your life were like, and you didn’t know about his.

But that didn’t mean that you didn’t miss him. After all, he was the only man you had ever loved. You were convinced he was the love of your life for the longest time.

“W-which room?” you asked him.

“End of the hall,” he pointed to the left.

You stepped out first, holding out your hand for him to take. He ducked his head down, trying to hide his smile before slipping his hand in yours. His hands were rougher than you remember them being, and a little bit bigger. Engulfing yours in warmth. You could smile without him seeing. You didn’t want to give away the fact that you loved the feeling of his hand in yours again.

“Here,” he stopped you, releasing your hand. You stood next to him, watching him slide the key into the door before the green light flashed. He opened up the door, motioning for you to walk inside.

You could smell the cool hotel room air as soon as you stepped inside. The first thing you noticed was the big window on the other side of the room. It took up the entire part of the wall. The view was beautiful. It was nice to see Dallas from this perspective.

You turned around, seeing Jensen standing behind you with his hands in his jean pockets. He was looking at you with a soft smile playing on his lips. Your eyes darted to the king sized bed in the middle of the room. He had his bag on the chair next to the bed.

“So to continue on from what you said in the elevator,” you paused, “you’re in a bit of a dark place, huh?”

“I was,” he admitted. “Then I saw you today. Randomly, out of the blue. You were just there.”

“Coincidence,” you shrugged.

“Or fate,” he swallowed hard.

“Or fate,” you breathed out. You felt your heart rate picking up as you looked at him.

“You haven’t changed much,” he said lowly. “You’re still kind, and caring. You still laugh at the same things. Back then, I thought you couldn’t get anymore beautiful. Until I saw you today.”

“You age like fine wine yourself,” you smirked. “You’re taller, and more muscular.”

“I grew up a bit,” he chuckled.

“Still got your cute lil’ bowlegs though,” you giggled, taking a step towards him.

“Shut up,” he let out a laugh. “God, I want to kiss you again.”

“What’s stopping you?” You asked him, taking a seat on the end of the bed, looking up at him.

“Overthinking,” he let out a dry chuckle.

“Spill.”

“I could kiss you,” he paused. “But then I know I’m going to want to do it over and over again. I don’t want to push you or make you uncomfortable. I don’t want to be the reason why we don’t talk again for another fifteen years.”

“I think both of us are afraid of that,” you confessed. “But I’m also going into this prepared for that.”

“So what are you saying?” He asked.

“I’m saying we have tonight. Let’s just focus on that first,” you whispered. “We can go back to our lives after this.”

“Can I at least grab your number before you leave?” he asked you.

“I’ll think about it,” you played, getting up from the bed. “I have to say, it’s really good to see you again.”

He stepped forward, slipping his hand around the small of your back. You felt your heart flutter in your chest at his touch, craving more of it. This time, you allowed yourself to hold him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You stood on your tiptoes, carefully pressing your lips to his in a hesitant kiss. His grip tightened on you, drawing you in closer as he kissed you back.

Memories of the past came rushing back to you. Jensen was just a boy you were best friends with. The one you spent everyday with up until the day you left. You remember the day he kissed you for the first time like it was yesterday. Out in the park where you frequented. He sat at the end of the slide, waiting for you to come down one evening. It was just the two of you left. Everyone had gone home for dinner. He was so smooth and cute about it, which was one of the reasons why you fell so hard for him so quickly.

Every moment from then on led up to now. You wanted this to be another addition to those memories. Your king making his way back to the castle for a moment. You knew it wasn’t going to be permanent and you were almost sure you could handle that, if it meant you had tonight with him.

You parted your lips, deepening the kiss as your arms tightened around his shoulders. Every so often, his nose brushed against the side of yours. His tongue slipped across yours, and you could taste the beer he had with dinner earlier tonight. You want more of him. You wanted every part of him. His touch had heat pooling in your core. The smell of his cologne only entranced you more. You were headed down a path that you couldn’t turn back from. You weren’t sure you even wanted to.

“Jensen,” you breathed out, pulling away just slightly, trying to catch your breath.

“Too much?” he whispered.

“No,” you shook your head. For a moment, you paused, not sure if this was something he was okay with. You wanted his touch, and you craved it. You didn’t know if it was okay the other way around.

You released him from your hold. Your hands making their way to your jacket, quickly peeling it off. Jensen stood there, his eyes locked on your every move. In a moment of confidence, you tore your t-shirt over your head, dropping it to the floor. That confidence quickly fell away when you realized he had probably dated models, and seen so many beautiful women that were so much nicer to look at compared to you. God, what the -

“You’re so damn beautiful, sweetheart,” he said softly. Just like that, one damn word and you were melting into again. He shrugged off his flannel shirt, letting it fall to the floor. He took the collar of his shirt, pulling it over his head, revealing his torso inch by inch. His stomach was soft, just like it was fifteen years ago, only now, he had grown into himself. He had a tiny trail of hairs leading down into his jeans, making you smile. He was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

“Jensen,” you whispered, “you’re so handsome.”

“I’m glad you think so,” he said with a nervous smile.

“I do,” you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, reaching for the button on your jeans. His hand came up to yours, halting your movements.

“Is this - are you sure?” he furrowed his brows.

“For old times sake,” you winked. “Unless you don’t want to.”

“Fuck,” he smiled, looking down. “For old times sake.”

You continued to undo your pants while he worked on his own. This was definitely happening and you were more than okay with it. You felt that desire building inside you, and you needed to satisfy the itch. You needed him for so many reasons. He stood there in his black boxers. The outline of his cock making an appearance. He looked bigger now than he was back then.

You stood there in your bra and panties, unable to take your eyes off of him. You could feel yourself dripping in your panties. God, you wanted him. You wanted to feel his length inside you again. You wanted to hear him come undone to you touch.

“Do we need-”

“I’m on the pill,” you told him, reaching behind your back to unhook your bra, letting one of the last articles of clothing fall to the floor. Jensen’s eyes never left your body. You watched as his eyes darkened at the sight of you. His hands reaching for your body for the first time. You melted into his touch, letting your nerves simmer down.

“So perfect,” he muttered under his breath. “I can’t keep my hands off you, and quite frankly, I don’t want to.” Your nipples hardened at the coolness of the air.

You turned in his hold, facing him. His eyes roamed over your body, his bottom lip coming between his teeth. He had such an effect on you and quite frankly you couldn’t get enough now that you had started.

You motioned for him to get on your bed and he did so quickly. You straddled his hips, your centre lining up with the bulge in his boxers. A tiny wave of pleasure coursed through you as you did. Your lips were on his in an instant, your tongue dancing with his. His hands held you tightly against him.

Your heart was soaring in your chest as you kissed him. Your hands traced over every inch of exposed skin like it was the first time. You loved the way he felt beneath you. You loved the way you felt in his hold. It was calming, and warm. Jensen made you feel safe and there was no one in the world you could say made you feel that way and you were slowly starting to realize that.

“Hmm Y/N,” he breathed out. You ground your hips against his, eliciting a groan from his lips. “I’ve gotta have you.”

“Have me,” you muttered.

“Yeah?”

“I like this,” he mumbled.

“You want me on top of you?” You played.

“I want you anyway,” he growled.

You climbed off of him, slipping your panties down your legs, leaving you completely exposed to him. His eyes hooded with lust and desire as he glanced over you. His smile was soft, and sincere as he did.

You leaned down, dipping your fingers in the waistband of his boxers, dragging them down his legs. His cock sprang free, hitting his stomach with a soft slap. You smirked, throwing one leg over his lap once more. You took his cock in your hand, lining him up with your entrance.

You pressed your forehead to his, looking into his gorgeous green eyes, eyes that you never thought you’d get to look into again. Now he was staring into yours, trying to learn you all over again.

You sank down on his length, slowly letting him fill you up, stretching you in the most delicious way. The first thrust was always the best. The feeling of being one; of being so damn close to one another. Jensen took a sharp intake of breath, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. You saw how much they had darkened once he opened them. Your lips collided with his as he bottomed out inside you.

His hands rested between your shoulder blades, pulling you in closer to him. You shifted, lifting your hips before sinking back down, creating a steady pace that worked for both of you. Jensen’s hands slipped down the length of your back, resting them on your ass to help you move on him.

“Fuck Y/N,” he groaned, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass.

“Jense,” you breathed out. You gripped his shoulders, bouncing a little faster on his dick. A thin layer of sweat began to bead along your skin.

Jensen held you to him, shifting quickly. Your back hit the mattress. Jensen thrusted into you at a quickened pace. His entire weight was on top of you, adding to the pleasure he brought to you. His cock was dragging perfectly against your sweet spot, pushing you closer and closer to your breaking point. You could hear the tiny cries that escaped passed his lips as he drove into you. Your nails scrapped down his back, trying to pull him in even closer to you.

His lips attached to the spot beneath your ear as his thrusts slowed down to almost teasingly slow. You let out a moan as he sucked down softly. The tiny hairs on the back of your neck stood up. He paid attention to you and what you liked. You carded your fingers through his hair, something you knew he liked.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mumbled into your neck.

His thrusts picked up a little more. You could tell he was getting closer by the way he was breathing. His mouth was ajar, and his tongue just peaked passed his lips. He was fucking gorgeous before he came, and every other time really. But this was different. Not many people had seen this.

“Jensen, I’m gonna-”

“Go ahead,” he breathed out. “I’m right behind you.”

“Come for me, Jense,” you urged him on, trying to keep up with his thrusts.

Within a few thrusts, your walls were clenching around his cock, squeezing him as pleasure soared through you. Your body was shaking beneath him as you threw your head back against the mattress. Your fingers digging into his back once more. You couldn’t contain your moan, or any of the words that rolled off your tongue. He made you feel so damn good, and you didn’t want to hold back.

Jensen wasn’t too far behind you. His thrusts became sloppy, and inconsistent. He tried to get as close to you as he could. His balls slapping against your ass. He came with a muffled cry of your name, spilling himself deep inside you. He slowed down, letting his orgasm run its course.

He lay on top of you, trying to catch his breath. You continued to run your fingers through his hair, waiting for his breathing to even out. The second time was even better than the first and you were thankful it was. It was a nice moment between the two of you. Finally feeling him again like you had craved for years after you left.

“Guess now I can cross have sex with an actor off my bucket list,” you breathed out with a chuckle.

“Shut up,” he shook his head, grinning into your neck before shifting off of you. He withdrew himself from you, and you instantly felt the loss of him. He hopped off the bed, heading into the bathroom. Your eyes wandered down to his perky ass, watching as he walked away.

He came back seconds later with a warm washcloth in his hand. He cleaned you up, just like he did the first time you did this together. You smiled at him. He was still that sweet boy you had known all those years ago.

You made yourself comfortable on the bed, waiting for him to come back and join you. It was just after ten and you didn’t exactly want to leave at this time and make your way home by yourself. You didn’t know if you should stay the night.

“At least this time I actually get to cuddle with you,” he chuckled. “You don’t have to sneak out the window to head home.”

“Yeah, that was awesome,” you scoffed. “I wasn’t exactly expecting your brother to come home.”

“Neither was I,” he shook his head. “C’mere.”

You inched over to him, throwing your arm around his waist before intertwining your leg with his. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder before placing a kiss to the top of your head. You could feel yourself slowly unwinding from the day. You were up early to start your orders and didn’t stop until Jensen walked in just after you closed. You were exhausted.

“You smell good,” he muttered, kissing your head once more.

“So do you,” you yawned. “You also stink of sex.”

“Get some sleep, sweetheart,” he said softly.

Your eyes fluttered open to a dark room. The clock in the corner read four thirty six. You were in a hotel room. Shit, you were in Jensen’s hotel room. You glanced to the other side of the bed, finding Jensen laying there on his back. He was fast asleep.

Guilt rushed through you. What were you doing here? Why were you still here with him? You knew you shouldn’t be. He was Jensen Ackles, an actor. He wasn’t your best friend anymore. He wasn’t that same small town boy you had fallen in love with all those years ago. He was a busy, hardworking man now. You were from two completely different worlds. He loved the idea of you and what your past was.

You carefully slipped out of the bed, trying not to make any big movements that would wake him. You bent down, picking up each article of clothing, putting it back on. You were doing him a favour. You couldn’t be that girl he used to know. You couldn’t give up your dreams for a past dream.

Tears pricked your eyes as you looked back at him. He was forever going to be the man you had fallen in love with. The one who treated you like a queen. You couldn’t be that for him now. He deserved better than that. He was simply confused and he saw you and thought of an easy way to get what he wanted.

You tiptoed over to him, leaning over to him. You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before turning to head out. You never expected it to hurt so bad, but it did. Jensen was your happy thought in a world full of misery for two whole years. He was the one thing that got through to you when you felt like giving up.

You slipped out of the hotel room, quietly shutting the door behind you. As soon as you got to the elevators, the tears slipped down your cheeks. It hurt. God, did it hurt. But you were leaving on good terms. You were leaving after a night of reminiscing and soft touches. A night filled with the same passion you had all those years ago. You wanted it to go that way. You wanted him to remember that about you.

You took a taxi back to the shop, trying to keep your tears at bay at that time. You must have looked like a crazy person to the older man. Eyes red and puffy heading to a bakery at nearly five in the morning.

It was just starting to drizzle when you stepped out of the cab after paying for your fare. You had your keys ready in your hand, opening up the door to your shop. Your biggest accomplishment. Everything you had in the small little shop was created by you. You built this. You worked your ass off for this and the way you felt at this very moment - it was like it meant nothing.

You walked into the back of the building, heading up the stairs to get to your apartment located right above the shop. The only way you could keep the costs low. You opened up your apartment door, stepping inside. The second the door shut, the tears kept coming. You were doing the right thing, you reminded yourself. You were doing what was for the best.

Monday morning came quickly. For the first time, you didn’t want to get out of bed and start the day. You didn’t want to go to work and you didn’t want to bake something. You just wanted to take a break. You wanted to go back to three days ago when Jensen wasn’t a thought on your mind. When he was just a public figure on the internet.

You threw on a blue t-shirt and a comfortable pair of black pants. You weren’t bothering with makeup today. You were going to bake and that was it. No customers today. Your sole focus was making cupcakes for a birthday party and a few pies for orders. You could finish by one and go back up to your bed.

“Morning, Y/N,” Victoria smiled at you, handing you your morning coffee.

“Morning,” you smiled at her, reaching for your drink.

“Rough weekend?” she smiled knowingly.

“You have no idea,” you chuckled dryly. “I know I look like ass. If you and Melanie could keep a handle on everything out front. I don’t exactly want to scare customers away with my grudge look today.”

“You look as beautiful as always. You’re just too hard on yourself,” she smiled. “We can take care of things no problem.”

“Thank you,” you gave her a warm smile.

You pulled some of the already prepared cookie dough from the fridge, placing them on three trays to begin filling things up out front. You had your cupcake batter on the go and your buttercream already mixing in the kitchen aid. The smell was starting to fill the kitchen, making you feel more at ease. This is what you were good at. This is what you loved to do.

You poured the chocolate batter into the cupcake holders, adding in a little extra to have bigger cupcakes. It was for a girls birthday party. The buttercream was sitting in the mixer. A nice neon pink colour that was going to go well with the dark chocolate cupcake.

“Hey Y/N,” Melanie poked her head back. “Someone is here asking about the open position.”

“Oh really?” your ears perked up. “Uh well, send them back here and we’ll take it from there.”

“Okay,” she beamed, turning away.

You grabbed your measuring cylinder, placing your piping bag into it so you could get your buttercream ready for when the cupcakes were done. The timer for the cookies went off at the same time. In the corner of your eye, you caught a figure, which had to be the one inquiring about the position.

“I’ll be right with you. I just have a lot on the go,” you told them, grabbing your oven mitts to take the three trays out of the oven. You had a cooling rack next to your oven, perfect for placing lots of products when they were done. “You’re interested in a baking position?”

“Yeah,” the deep voice said. You almost stopped what you were doing. You were definitely expecting a female voice. “I’m only available Saturdays, and the odd Fridays. Depending on when I get off my other job and when I can fly in.”

You turned around, taking a deep breath. Jensen was standing there with his hands in his pockets. He was clearly nervous. He looked about as good as you did, if you were being honest. His eyes were tired.

“Y-you’re not actually interested in the position are you?” you swallowed hard.

“I am,” he nodded. “I can’t bake to save my life but I'm interested.”

“Jensen-”

“Why’d you leave?” he asked you. “I woke up and you were just gone. No sign you had even been there.”

“I can’t, Jensen,” you sighed in defeat, moving over to one of the stools by your counter.

“Why not?” he questioned, taking his hands out of his pockets. “I told you I still have feelings for you-”

“That’s not enough and you know it,” you licked your bottom lip, your eyes casting down. “Feelings don’t make a relationship work, especially not one between two people that barely know each other anymore. I get that your best friend getting married striked something in you and seeing me didn’t help. But I can’t be that girl for you, Jensen. I can’t drop everything I’ve worked for and that’s why it would never work. You’re an actor who works in a different country. I work six days a week here. Timezones, distance, insecurities, doubts, guilt, and god knows what else will come between us. It doesn’t matter if I still love you or not.”

“Do you?” he asked lowly. “Still love me?”

“Of course I do. I never stopped, ” you admitted. “But it’s not enough.”

“I’m not asking you to give this up for me,” he said to you, taking a step closer to you. “I’m asking you to give me a chance.”

“This isn’t because of everything is it?” you dared to ask.

“This is because I love you and I never stopped,” he stated. “I’ll fly down every weekend I don’t work to take a Saturday shift and spend Sundays with you.”

“N-no,” you shook your head.

“Y/N, are those cookies done by chance?” Melanie asked sheepishly. “Sorry, I know you’re in the midst-”

“Yeah, you can take one. They are hot though,” you told her. She snuck passed you with the empty tray in her hand. She moved quickly, placing eight of them in their places before sneaking back out. The tension was growing in the room.

“Why not, Y/N?” he sighed in defeat.

“I can’t be the girl you want me to be, Jensen. I can’t walk red carpets with you and be in the public eye like you are. I can’t be the girl I once was,” you sniffled.

“And I’m not asking you to be,” he declared. “All I want is you. You and whatever comes with you. Whatever shit you’ve been through, whatever it is. I’ll take it as my own. I just know that I love you and I haven’t felt my heart beat the way it has with you in a really long fucking time.”

“You could have anyone -”

“All I want is you,” he repeated. “Long days, phone calls, weekend flights. I’ll do it if it means I can be with you.”

“I work six days a week,” you reminded him.

“I’ll work Saturday’s,” he stated. “You’ve already seen me work.”

“I live in a one bedroom shoe box apartment above this store,” you shared.

“Is that your attempt to get me to change my mind,” he chuckled, taking the stool in front of you. He placed his hands on your legs, looking at you. “Nothing you can say will change my mind. I looked for you for ten years, Y/N. Now that I found you again, I’m not losing you.”

“I don’t have money to fly to you,” you argued.

“Don’t care. I’ve got frequent flyer points,” he smiled. “Anything else?”

“I think I’m done now,” you admitted with a half smile. “For now.”

“So do I have the job?” he cocked his head to the side.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “You’re on probation though.”

“Is it because I can’t bake?” he let out a laugh.

“Yes. One hundred percent.”

“Thank you,” he smiled. “But do me a favour?”

“Anything,” you looked up at him.

“Don’t ever leave me in the middle of the night like that again,” he breathed out, leaning over. He pressed his lips to your cheek.

“Promise,” you agreed. “I gotta work now, darlin’.”

“Put me to work, sweetheart. I can fit in a couple of hours before my flight,” he winked. “I’ll be back Friday night for three days.”

“Good,” you beamed, holding your hand out for him to take. You helped him off the stool and led him over to the counter. You handed him an apron so he wouldn’t get his shirt dirty.

“Hey Y/N,” Victoria smiled as she walked back into your work area. “Did we hire this one?”

“Yeah,” you nodded with a wide grin. “For now.”

“Good,” she smiled. “It’s about time you let someone in. Glad it’s heart eyes.”

“Heart eyes?” Jensen furrowed his brows.

“You gave me heart eyes when you saw me Saturday afternoon,” you teased him.

“Crazy heart eyes,” she pointed out. “Break her heart and I’ll break your face.”

“Victoria,” you said, wide eyed.

“I don’t care who he is,” she narrowed her eyes at him playfully. “I can take on Dean Winchester.”

“There’s an idea,” you muttered under your breath, turning back to your table.

“What was that, sweetheart?” Jensen smirked.

“Nothing, darlin’.”

“Yeah okay,” he chuckled, leaning over to you, placing a sweet kiss on your lips. You smiled against him, finally allowing yourself to truly enjoy it for the first time. You really were childhood sweethearts. You only hoped that you became a couple that was destined to grow old together. Either way, you were glad you were entering this journey with Jensen by your side.

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

Did you like it? What was your favourite part? Share your thoughts with me via reblog, reply or send me an ask! Your response keeps me writing!

972 notes · View notes

lov3nerdstuff · 4 years ago

Text

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 6.4}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 4.7k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

The moment they were back in Snape's office, Robin got started on making them coffee. It was early afternoon by now, and she was well aware that there still was plenty of work to be done before they could move on over to the lab. Once again she offered her help with his work, but his (admittedly very much justified) objection remained that he couldn't let her grade other students' essays, and Robin had to accept that. Thus she merely sat down at the smaller table with her own coffee after handing him his, and henceforth listened to him complaining about the many stupid mistakes the second years had made in their essays. Eventually it became a real game between them, to keep a list of the most ridiculous things people had written in their essays, and to rank them by their level of idiocy. Robin, void of anything else to do for once, actually wrote it all down on a piece of parchment, both the most ridiculous statements and the ranking points they had given them.

In the end, they successfully managed to miss dinner entirely, as their game was more entertaining than either of them had anticipated. But the work was done, and Robin was proud to say that she had made it less dreadful for him after all. Even if not entirely on purpose, but still very much willingly.

"You know, you could probably fill an entire lesson just with reading out the dumbest quotes on this list and have the students figure out why it's so wrong." Robin sighed with a smirk as she stretched in her chair. The piece of parchment in front of her looked almost like a piece of art at this point, littered not only with the most desperately wrong quotes from the essays, but also Robin's corrections of them, as well as some extended elaborations on the matter and little drawings of ingredients. Yes, she had been that bored between judging ridiculous quotes.

"I could. Should I, however?" He raised an eyebrow at Robin with a not-smirk while he got up from behind his desk at last, only to sit down again across from her at the small table. Without taking his eyes off hers, he snatched the piece of parchment out from under her fingertips and only then lowered his gaze to inspect it. A few seconds passed before he frowned, and Robin smiled.

"I think you should." She remarked innocently, replying to his earlier question while leaning back in her chair. "Have them correct the mistakes, that is, not mock the person who made them."

"I am surprised that you bothered to correct them."

"Didn't have much else to do between judging students' idiocracy. Besides, at this point I really should know the second year topics, shouldn't I? Did them twice, after all."

"Twice because…?"

"Once in my own second year and then again last year when tutoring Jorien and Cas. So technically I only did them once, and then tried to teach them a second time."

"You still tutor your roommates regularly?"

"Yeah." Robin shrugged with a smile. "Not just them though, and by far not only in potions. Just this morning I actually had sixteen students, can you imagine?! Sixteen thirteen-year-olds! And they actually listened to what I said!!!"

Now Snape's eyebrows rose in surprise, but the not-smirk turned into a real one; small, but definitely visible. "I had no idea that was even a possibility."

"Me neither!" Robin laughed, then kept on grinning. "So, just in case you get a suspicious amount of high quality essays from your third years next week, you know who to blame. Or who to thank."

"We will see about that." He replied with the same smirk, but then continued on a more serious note as he took another look at the parchment in his hands. "May I keep this?"

"Sure." Robin shrugged easily, and for whatever reason her heart skipped a beat. "I hope you can decipher all of it… I didn't specifically try for readability."

"I have been reading your handwriting for years, Robin. Not only in tests or essays written specifically to be handed in, but in scribbles and working notes as well. I would even say I know it quite as well as my own."

"Good." Robin couldn't help grinning at him with enough excitement to make him frown a little in suspicion. Before he could ask however, she had already summoned her handbook out of her backpack and dropped it on the table in front of him with a dull thud. "Because there's something else I have been dying to show you."

_______________

A quiet rustling of sheets, soft breathing, hushed whispers. "Robin…" The mattress dipped gently at her side. She smiled, curling a little closer around the new source of warmth. "ROBIN!!!"

She jumped at the loud voice, sitting up with a start, and her head bumped against something hard in an instant.

"Ow…" She grumbled with a deep frown, rubbing her now aching forehead in an instant, while her eyes finally went into focus enough to see Cas sitting in front of her on her bed, rubbing her forehead just the same. Jorien sat on the other side, laughing at both their misery without a hint of guilt or pity.

"Very funny, you guys…" Robin groaned tiredly as she crossed her legs underneath her to make room for the two girls. "The last time you woke me up like this was-..."

"Happy birthday, Robin!" Both girls cheered before she could finish her sentence, and Robin had to smile despite the small mishap.

"Thank you! Is it really the twentieth already? Again?" She sighed, but by now she knew that resistance to Cas was hard, and resistance to Jorien was entirely futile.

"Twentieth of October, six o'clock in the morning!" Cas grinned, and crossed her legs as well while Jorien followed suit a few seconds later.

"Six?! Good gods…" Robin groaned exaggeratedly and frowned at them with a desperate smile. "Why on earth would you wake me up this early?"

"Because it's Thursday and our present for you requires some time before breakfast." Jorien replied factually, and Cas nodded in her usual giddy eagerness.

"Do I need to be scared?" Robin inquired with a raised eyebrow and an amused smile. She knew that look on their faces, and she knew that they were up to something. A second later, a small box very much like the one she had received last year was placed in her lap and Robin opened it with a curious smile. When her eyes fell onto the contents however, her brows furrowed, and she looked up at Cas and Jorien with a big question mark on her face.

"We're not doing anything you don't want to, of course… But you liked those onyx earrings so much when we went to Hogsmeade, so we decided to get them for you." Cas shrugged with an excited smile, and Jorien merely nodded in no less amusement.

"That is very sweet of you, but you realize that I don't actually have any holes in my ears but the ones nature demands, yes?"

"Yet. That is part of the present." Cas replied mischievously, and both girls smiled at Robin in a way that made her realize that they were absolutely serious in what they were planning to do. It humored her more than it probably should have.

"Alright." Robin said with an easy smile. "Thank you for the lovely present. If you take joy in stabbing holes into my skin, feel free to. I don't mind."

"Wait… really?!" Cas frowned incredulously. "I thought you were going to protest! I prepared an entire speech to convince you that it was for the best!"

"I told you she would be all for it." Jorien shrugged at her friend, with a humored smile similar to the one Robin wore herself. "And you didn't write a speech, you practiced saying 'please' in as many ways as possible."

"Don't tell her that!" Cas protested with a roll of her eyes, and Robin merely had to chuckle at the two of them. They were like an old married couple sometimes, and it was hilarious and adorable at once to observe. Cas turned to Robin once again. "Anyway, we asked McGonagall for a spell to pierce your ears that wouldn't blow your head off along the way, so you don't have to worry about a thing. It's all approved and safe for use."

"I'm not worried." Robin replied easily, and really she thought the idea was rather sweet. It was such a typical teenager thing to do… something of the kind she had never spent a second thinking about before now. But to Cas and Jorien it actually seemed to be of immense importance to do this themselves, and Robin felt touched that they included her in their spark of youthful rebellion. And she wouldn't mind getting her ears pierced after all. "So… You actually asked McGonagall for a spell?"

"Who did you expect us to ask?! What Professor Snape is for you, McGonagall is for Jorien. I'm just swimming on her wave." Cas explained, then motioned for Jorien to go ahead and do the actual work. A typical Cas move, giving the speech and leaving the work for someone else. "This is probably going to hurt, so you might want to grab something."

"Don't worry, it takes a lot to hurt me these days." Robin sighed and for once, she would just have to trust them; there wasn't much that could go wrong anyway. "But try to keep my head intact, alright?"

Ten minutes later, and luckily without any accidents, Robin had two neat holes in her ears and could at last make use of the gift she'd received. Two studs of black onyx, small but just as gorgeous as she remembered them to be from the two times they had looked at them through the shopwindow in Hogsmeade. She smiled when she looked at herself in the mirror, admiring the subtle new detail about her appearance. The deep black really was a sharp contrast to her ashen skin, but so was her dark hair anyway. The new piece of jewelry probably wouldn't be all too noticeable in comparison to that.

"You look absolutely gorgeous, birthday girl…" Cas declared dramatically, still lounging on Robin's bed even while Robin herself had gotten up. "Now we just need to get a little colour onto your face and you're ready to seize this day!"

Robin spun around to face them in an instant, glaring at the two girls in both horror and defense. There was a lot she would let them do to her, but that most definitely did not include turning her into a canary! "Cas no! Absolutely not!"

"Cas yes!"

"Jorien?" Robin pleaded with both her tone and her eyes while moving back over to her bed and to the girls. "I already let you make holes into my ears!"

"Sorry, but it's all part of our present." Jorien shrugged with a sympathetic half smile before she moved off the bed to get ready. "Just let it happen."

"What is your present if it includes piercing my ears and painting my face?!"

"We're making you pretty, dumbass! Like they do in the movies!" Cas groaned loudly and rolled off the bed as well to pad back towards her own. "You're bloody 17 now! And you still don't have any dates! We're trying to get you one."

"Not that again…" Robin sighed in return, hiding her head in her hands for a moment to regain some composure before she started getting dressed for the day of classes. "Don't you guys have anything better to do than meddling in my affairs?"

"No." Both Jorien and Cas replied at the same time, then giggled at their synchrony, and Robin finally had to realize that resistance was futile indeed. Sometimes living with thirteen-year-olds demanded a sacrifice; sometimes Robin just had to make concessions to their youth. And honestly, she couldn't deny them a thing, being as excited as they were about this now.

"Fine…" She sighed at last, mindlessly buttoning up her blouse with long practiced moments, then tugged it into her trousers. "You may paint my face if it means so much to you. But I'll get the bathroom first, now and all to myself. And I forbid you to use anything actually colourful."

"But colour is the best part! It's ALL colour!!!" Cas cried as she struggled into her tights. "Some charcoal would do wonders on your eyes!"

"Black isn't actually a colour but a value." Jorien corrected with a roll of her eyes. "So technically you can use all the black, white and grey you want."

"Precisely! Thank you, Jorien, your thought-out input is always very much appreciated." Robin smiled proudly at the girl, who in return grinned to herself upon the praise. "Now, do we have an agreement? I get the bathroom first and you will use no colours, but you may otherwise do with my hair and face as you please. Deal?"

"Deal!"

… … …

In the end, Robin had to make another compromise: in exchange for not getting any brown paste and powder onto her face, which Cas seemed to be very fond of unfortunately, she had to agree to let them use colours, dark colours, on her eyes. Thus Robin ended up sitting on her bed, sighing repeatedly, while Cas painted her face and Jorien braided her hair. Honestly, she still didn't know how or why exactly she (the older one!) had become their dress up doll, but under the pretext of 'making her look pretty for her birthday', Robin still found herself unable to deny them. Even if, on the inside, she very much felt like running.

When all three of them made their way towards the great hall for breakfast at last, Robin still felt mildly uncomfortable. The braid Jorien had forced her hair into was rather charming actually, and also very much useful to keep the wavy, bushy mess out of her face, but she wasn't so sure about the 'smokey' black, brown and green Cas had layered around her eyes. Robin felt more like a raccoon than herself… but in comparison to what some (few) of her classmates wore on a daily basis, or those women in the magazines Cas read instead of books, it still was subtle enough to tolerate for a day. Makeup may be fun for some other people, which was fine, but it most definitely wasn't for Robin and she had a rather strong interest in not repeating this masquerade. Oh well… she still would be racoon-Robin for a day now. Besides, it would break the girls' hearts if she didn't suffer through it with a smile on her face, so that's what she did as they hurried to breakfast.

"And where would we be coming from?" A taunting voice stopped all three of them just outside the great hall, and Robin had to smile while the other two looked rather panicked upon the unexpected appearance of their potions teacher. "Miss Miller, Miss Blakeley… Punctuality is a virtue, not an option. Breakfast started fifteen minutes ago. You are late."

"So are you, professor..." Robin replied with an innocent smile, which however turned into more of a smirk as soon as her eyes met his. "Isn't that a funny coincidence?"

Snape approached them with long strides and his usual public facade, and the closer he came, the more Cas and Jorien hid behind Robin. She still didn't understand how they could miss the humor in his face that even now was obvious as day! All they saw was the menacing scowl he wanted them to see. That they probably wanted to see as well; expectation and prejudice were the masters of deceit in one's own mind.

"Funny." He said to Robin in a particularly flat tone that made her bite her lip to keep from laughing, then he turned to look at Jorien and Cas instead. "You two would do well to be on time from now on, even if for a mere meal. I tolerate no slacking. Now find your seats before your classmates leave nothing but their empty plates for you." With that, he motioned for them to get going, clasping his hands behind his back with that indifferent look that made Robin smile even more.

"Robin…? Are you coming?" Jorien asked carefully while Cas straight out started walking off already, gaining as much distance to Snape as possible until she disappeared out of sight. Jorien still stood between Robin and the doors, looking at her insecurely.

"You should be fine without your precious Robin for five minutes, or is that too much to ask?" Snape drawled in feigned annoyance, and Robin gave him a look before turning to Jorien.

"I'll be there in five minutes, just save me a seat and some toast, will you?" She smiled at the girl as positively as possible, who only nodded with a weak smile in return before quickly following behind Cas, out of sight.

"Did you have to scold them for something so minor?" Robin finally asked as she turned back to Snape with a small frown. "They were only late because of me, or rather because of what they did for me. Today, at least…" Really, they were usually late for all meals. No matter what day it was, and no matter if they were with Robin or without her.

"Had they been any later, all they would have found left is scrapings. It might have slipped your notice, but their classmates are more animals than civilised beings when it comes to meals." He pointed out calmly, and Robin had to sigh. He was right. "Unless you wish to show them how to use the kitchens or leave them to fend for themselves in the future, I would prefer to teach them punctuality."

"Yeah, alright, I see your point." She said with another sigh. "Nevermind. I usually prefer being early anyway."

"I am aware." He replied with a not-smirk, upon which Robin had to smile again as well. "Is that colour in your face the reason for your mutual lateness?"

"Ah, well, yes." Robin chuckled awkwardly, and before she knew her fingers nervously brushed over the rough spot of skin on her neck again. "It is, uh… it's part of their birthday present to me, I guess. They insisted on it."

For a moment Snape observed her closely, with a curious frown that made Robin feel both nervous and tingly. He leaned a little closer for a second, then back again. "Something else about you is different than it was yesterday evening, but I cannot tell what it is."

"Well, uh, I also let them pierce my ears, because they really wanted to, so it's probably that." Robin shrugged with an almost apologetic frown. Did he observe everyone that closely? Probably.

His eyebrows rose in surprise, torn between incredulity, humor and irritation. "Why would you let them do all that to you? I was under the impression that people did nice things for others on their birthdays…"

"They gave me earrings, so they also had to make sure I could wear them. And as for the colour on my face… you better don't ask what made them do that to me." She shrugged again, deeming the way he said 'nice' highly amusing. "I let them do it because it quite obviously made them happy."

"It is your birthday. People are supposed to ensure you are happy."

"Oh, I'm quite happy as it is." Robin replied with a small smirk, and a soaring heart once more. "I can manage looking like a raccoon for the day. Perhaps it'll scare Morgan off at least."

A quiet snort escaped him before he could make an effort to remain stoic, and even then he seemed to struggle not to smirk. "Raccoon certainly is not what I think of when I look at you, Robin. But you make me curious about their reason to obviously try for exactly that visual."

Now Robin had to snort as well, shaking her head to herself. Damn, she didn't want to tell him… but she also knew that she could deny him even less than the two girls. What was it about the people she cared about?! The only weak spot she knew of, and they all were entirely oblivious to it.

"If you have to know, they wanted to make me look pretty for the day." She sighed, but as soon as he even made an attempt to reply, she added, "Don't. Please. No scorn or mocking on my birthday. I know I look stupid, but I have to make concessions if I want to keep my sanity when living with them, and this was such an instance. I could have looked far worse."

"I was merely going to say that they obviously have a strange concept of beauty if they are blind enough to try to cover it up with paint." He said as if it wasn't enough to make Robin's entire body feel too hot all of a sudden. Actually, he didn't even seem to realize what exactly he had just said in the first place as he went on. "I do very well understand your need to make concessions, and your diplomacy is certainly appropriate. However you don't have to tolerate everything they do to you merely because I told you to watch over them."

"I know. That's not why I do it, not at all." She sighed, regaining control over her heartbeat by simply ignoring what he hadn't even said on purpose. "They care about me, they really do, and they only want the best for me in their own kind of way. A thirteen-year-old way, which unfortunately entails trying to draw more positive attention to me."

He frowned at that, with a lingering hint of amusement. "They paint your eyes black to draw positive attention to you? How… curious."

"I know, right?" She huffed in both humor and dread. "I for my part like black better than anything else they could've put on my fave, but it's probably the wrong colour to make other people think 'pretty' and not 'scary'. I forbid them to use bright colours though, so perhaps it is my fault that I'll scare people off all day, which I do almost every day anyway, so-..."

"Robin." He quirked an eyebrow at her, and Robin took a deep breath to untangle the mess in her head that caused her to ramble.

"Yes. Sorry. Nevermind, just forget about it."

"Give me your hand." He ordered calmly an instant later, holding his own out to her with his palm facing up. Robin's heart skipped a beat, but she did as he said without question, placing her hand in his only to feel the familiar surge of electricity running up her arm and through her body.

To her surprise, he turned her hand around to rest in his with the inside facing up as well. Then, without a word, a small spark of light flickered to life inside her palm. It glowed softly in different colours that came and went so quickly it left the light white, an addition of all colours, and yet black at once in its subtraction. Robin couldn't have described it even if she'd wanted to, for her eyes and mind were too drawn to their hands to even try such a thing. The spark grew, not into a bigger light, but into a shape, a web of atoms that made up matter one by one. It grew, blossomed and rooted until at last it took on the unmistakable shape of a flower. A flower Robin had never seen before, one that was entirely black in its impossible existence, but yet consisted of all the colours in existence indeed. She couldn't take her eyes of it as it rested in her palm, all light gone but the impossible colours remained. His hand was still curled around hers, long fingers brushing against the delicate skin of her wrist beneath the cuff of her blouse… Robin didn't know which of the two fascinated, enchanted her more. Perhaps both did, in a different way.

"Now, would you expect someone to deem this flower scary?" He asked after a few seconds, dropping his hand from hers at last.

"No…" Robin replied quietly, holding the blossom in her palm like the greatest treasure. "It's beautiful, breathtaking even. I've never seen anything like it."

"Because it stems from your mind alone, which makes it entirely unique in its existence."

"But, how… I mean…" She didn't even know what to say, leave alone what to think, neither in a positive nor in a negative way. Why had he shown this beautiful piece of magic to her? Why hadn't she known that he could do something like this in the first place?! The overwhelming urge to be closer to him overcame her when she looked up at him, and it couldn't even be lessened by his perfect neutral facade. Gods, why did he always hide when she wanted to see him the most?! "Why?"

"It is nothing but a reminder that darkness does not scare everyone." He replied neutrally, neither bothering to feign indifference nor to let his honest expression shine through. A few seconds passed in silence, and they merely looked at each other as they did so often.

"Thank you." Robin finally said, giving him the most sincere smile that had graced her lips all day. "It's a lovely gift."

"It isn't a gift." He was quick to respond though, frowning first, then looking almost humored again. "But it might counteract the racoon visual nonetheless."

Robin chuckled, closing her eyes for a second to dwell in the happiness of the moment. The overwhelming bunch of emotions tied to the impossible flower in her hand. "Well, thank you either way. I appreciate your help with my facial issues."

Finally the not-smirk was back on his face, and if Robin wasn't mistaken, so was the humor in his eyes. "What kind of… person would I be if I didn't help you even with the most obscure problems?" Again he raised his eyebrows at her, and she smiled brightly enough to light up the entire hallway, until he spoke on. "That, among other things, is why I want you to be prepared at two o'clock this afternoon."

"Huh?" Robin's brows furrowed into a deep frown in an instant. "Prepared for what?"

"To play along." He smirked for real this time, quite obviously basking in her confusion. "You will see."

Then, without another word, Snape turned on his spot and disappeared down the hallway towards the dungeons before Robin could say another thing. Two seconds later, the doors to the great hall were opened by the first students already leaving breakfast, and they stormed the hallway with enough noise and chattering to break Robin free of her frozen state. Did Snape actually enjoy being that cryptic?! He probably did; insufferable idiot.

Robin sighed to herself, looking at the flower in her hand in careful consideration, then moved to tie it into her hair with a smile. Having this little piece of magic with her, his magic, would certainly make her day a lot better, even if it was prone to cause her constant tingles. Who cares… it was her birthday, she could allow herself to enjoy one single day of dwelling in her feelings. And besides, nobody had to know who had given her such an impossible flower; it wasn't a gift after all, just a point proven.

As Robin made her way into the great hall at last, hoping that at least some kind of food was left for her, she wondered what would be happening at two o'clock. She really couldn't wait to know. Then again, the anticipation and excitement of not knowing was also quite delightful. Two o'clock… that was a third into her defense against the dark arts class. And that meant whatever was going to happen, it could only be an improvement.

______________________________

Tags:

@ayamenimthiriel @chibi-lioness @t-sunnyside @alex4555 @purpledragonturtles @istrugglewithphilosophy @meghan-maria

General Tags:

@its-remy-not-ratatouille @wegingerangelica @dreary-skies-stuff @wiczer @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @theweirdlunatic @caretheunicorn @kthemarsian @lady-of-lies @strawberrysandcream @noplacelikehome77 @theoneanna @mishaandthebrits @i-am-a-mes @nonsensicalobsessions @exygon @hiddles-lobotomy @rjohnson1280 @annwhojumps @spookycatqueen @salempoe @headoverhiddleston @fanfiction-and-stress @createdfromblue @halszka-potter @thecreatiivecorner @themusingsofmany @kinghiddlestonanddixon @scorpionchild81 @crystal-28 @adefectivedetective @lokis-girl-in-mischief @booklover2929 @iamverity @lovesmesomehiddles @akk4rin @whitewolfandthefox @stuckupstucky @kassablanca13 @delightfulheartdream @hayalee8 @bluewneptune

69 notes · View notes

max-is-really-okay · 4 years ago

Text

Protection

Azula is two when her baby brother is born. He’s small, ugly, and squishy. Father seems disappointed in him, so Azula ignores him as well. She has better things to do than holding a squishy baby.

That night, he won’t stop crying. Azula sneaks out of her crib without the guards noticing and toddles to his room. It’s smaller than her’s, and she’s grateful. She lights a small fire in her hands, just wanting the baby to be quiet. She had seen that people got quiet if she burned them. She made her way to the crib, and looked down at her crying brother.

Zuko looked up at her with his big eyes, and stopped crying. Azula put out the fire, not able to even think about burning him. Now that she got a closer look, he wasn’t as ugly as he was before. He kind of looked like one of her dolls. Something new sparked inside of Azula, the need to protect her brother.

When she was ten, Azula found out she had a blue fire. It was something that people were amazed by. Even Father was proud of her for it. She lived up to her name, and she was sure that she could be the most powerful firebender out there, but that didn’t matter.

What mattered was how Zuko loved to play. She didn’t want to admit she had a soft spot for her baby brother, but she had stopped tormenting the turtleducks as soon as he had asked her to. She was going soft, but only for him.

Zuko had only discovered his fire when he was six. It was strong, but Azula’s was stronger. Behind Father’s back, Azula helped Zuko with his training. Uncle was a good teacher to him, no matter how much Azula couldn’t stand him. Zuko seemed to like him, so she left them alone. The other teachers weren’t as good. They treated him as if he had already done something wrong.

No matter what Father said, Azula knew that Zuko was talented. He could made a small dragon with his flames. She could too, and hers was bigger, but it was still amazing. When no one was watching, the two of them played silly games and reenacted scenes from Zuko and Mother’s favorite play.

Zuko needed a patient teacher, and one who knew how to sneak around Father. She was the only good option other than Uncle. So she pulled back her biting comments when he messed up, and learned how to guide him through movements. She even helped him learn how to use those stupid swords that he loved so much.

Azula thought that when he finally won a sparring match, that would be the end of it. She would be happy to go back to life, knowing that he could now protect herself. Some of herself thought she would be angry that someone younger than her could beat her, but when Zuko won a match, she only felt one thing. Pride.

Zuko ran up to her after, making sure she was okay and hugging her tightly. It was then that Azula realized her job would never be done.

Uncle went to war, and Zuko wouldn’t stop crying. Even though Azula complained that he was ruining her dress, she still held him tightly and rubbed his back that night. It felt like a mother’s job, but Ursa had lost that title in her mind, letting Father treat Zuko the way he did.

Ursa died or ran off after Father talked about killing Zuko. Azula didn’t care much about either, knowing that if Father tried she would end him. She had never been close with Ursa anyways. She still held Zuko close while he cried, and she ignored her own tears that fell that night.

When Zuko was thirteen he begged to go into a war meeting with Father. Azula didn’t really understand why he wanted to, the meetings were boring. Father had taken her to a few, and she had always had to do her best not to fall asleep, so she didn’t worry about what would happen. He would be fine.

She was wrong.

Zuko tried to protect the innocent, like he always was, and spoke up against a general. He was challenged to an agni kai against a general. Azula flicked his forehead before helping him train for the fight. He didn’t need to be scared. She was his teacher.

Azula was as horrified as Zuko when instead of the cocky general, Father walked out. There was no way for Zuko to win this battle. If he got burned, he would bring dishonour to their entire family. If he somehow won, he would burn the Firelord. An act of treason.

Zuko didn’t fight, because of course he didn’t. Azula was the only one to scream in protest, flames coming to her hands even though she didn’t ask them to. Uncle, the coward who had looked away while Zuko screamed, held her back.

She wasn’t surprised when Ozai banished them. He spat something about finding the Avatar, The Avatar who had been missing for a hundred years, before sending them, Uncle, and a crew away.

She and Uncle worked together to help Zuko, but Azula reminded him at every moment that she would never forgive his cowardice. Zuko was like a son to him, and he sat by while he screamed in agony. At least the old man agreed.

Zuko took their fruitless goal as a challenge, and no one had the heart to tell him that it was hopeless. As soon as he could stand without falling over, she and Uncle helped him train.

He was afraid of fire, so Azula helped him with his swords. Even though she would never say it out loud, Uncle was better at dealing with emotions and fears. While she was uncomfortable and awkward, Uncle understood and knew exactly what to do.

Zuko became bitter and hateful, something she knew well enough. She heard their crew calling them cruel and heartless behind closed doors, but she couldn’t find it within herself to care. They could think what they wanted.

She was eighteen when the Avatar was found, and she couldn’t believe it. She was as excited as Zuko. She realized she had gone soft when she doesn’t take the kill, just to prove that crossing her and her brother will end with anyone you’ve ever loved gone. Instead she follows Zuko out.

They keep training, and they keep getting better. The Avatar always seems to be out of their reach, and the Water Tribe girl seems to be a gifted young waterbender, even if she’s not classically trained.

For far too long, they’re chasing. It’s like a game of cat and mouse, without the fun part. A little blind girl that's far too strong joins the group.

Azula knew that if she wanted to, really wanted to, they could easily get the Avatar. He had obvious weaknesses and would be devastated if any of his friends dropped dead due to a lightning strike. He’d either fall apart or kill them all, she wasn’t sure. But Zuko didn’t want to hurt anyone, so she let him take the lead.

After almost a year of playing the stupid game, even ignoring Father’s offer to bring them home, they actually joined the Avatar. Azula laughed in Aang’s face when he asked her to teach him, pointing him to Zuko.

Uncle offered her tea while they watched Zuko fumble through conversations with Katara and Sokka. The kid deserved talking to people his age, needed it even. When Uncle told her that she should join in, she shook her head and drank her tea.

It was unrelated to that conversation, but when Suki joined them, Azula found that she didn’t mind talking to her. And with Suki came Sokka, who was surprisingly smart.

There were lots of adventures that didn’t really need to be had in Azula’s opinion. Zuko and Sokka snuck off to break some people out of prison from a failed infiltration attempt on the day of the black son. Hakoda was added to the list of people Azula didn’t mind.

When Aang won, Azula wasn’t sure what to do with herself. She was no Firelord, and she wasn’t going to be someone who fixed relations between nations. She was good at war. Talking war, training, and planning.

She almost killed Zuko when he suggested she become a teacher. She almost did it again when she did it, enjoying the terrifying and dramatic lives of her students.

If anyone asked, Ozai had been transferred to the Earth Kingdom. That’s what Zuko and his friends thought. Only Azula and Iroh knew the truth. He had walked in, just as Ozai was turned to ashes in her blue flame. Surprisingly, he nodded and then left.

Azula stood by her brother. If she was anything, she was loyal. If she had someone to protect, then nothing mattered.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #avatar zuko #azula avatar

18 notes · View notes

capricornus-rex · 4 years ago

Text

A Shadow of What You Used to Be (6)

Chapter 6: No, There Is Another | Cal Kestis x Irele Skywalker

Summary: There is another! Years after young Anakin Skywalker departed Tatooine, his mother Shmi delivers a second child—this time, a daughter. Whilst the circumstance of the girl’s birth remains unexplained, Irele Skywalker has yet to choose the true path between those laid out for her.

A/N: Sorry it took so long, you guys! ;;w;; What with the holidays and me managing what to order for my 24th birthday today (It’s the 27th where I live so we’re celebrating in a quite chill way heheh), so this is my birthday treat to you! A new chapter! 💖💖

Tags: Fem! OC, Irele Skywalker, Force-sensitive! OC, Anakin’s Younger Sister, Skywalker! OC, Darth Vader’s Secret Apprentice, Long-lost Sibling

Requesting to be tagged: @heavenly1927

Also in AO3

Chapters: Prelude – 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 | Previous: Part 5 | Next: Part 7 | Masterlist

7 of ?

19 BBY

Irele, her stepbrother Owen, and his now-wife Beru Lars live together in the same roof. After their father had died of natural causes, they placed him next to the grave of Shmi, as they deem it appropriate; they have taken full control of the homestead, though their ways didn’t change that much.

Now thirteen years old, Irele Skywalker had grown into the spitting image of Shmi Skywallker albeit younger. Medium length hair always secured as a ponytail with thin braids woven along the tail, warm and earthy-colored eyes, and a somber yet friendly smile.

The teenager had grown into an adventurous young spirit. Perhaps, if one is to see Shmi as a girl, she would have been the exact same as her daughter. Gaining friends in Anchorhead and even as far as Mos Eisley, though she had learned to steer clear of the latter town unless the need truly arises. Taking odd jobs in either of the towns, her hustler’s nature remained intact, she did not want to depend heavily on her brother and sister-in-law for monetary support—albeit Owen strongly disagrees, but to not avail.

“You’ve been out more often than staying at home!” chided Owen, who was now perhaps in his early thirties.

“Well, I do need to work, don’t I, big brother?” she tapped his bulky arm as she strolled into the house.

She had just returned from her work in the shop that’s a hybrid of a speeder vendor and a servicing center. Whether she realizes it or not, she always finds herself tinkering with something, fixing them… like her real brother’s pastime as a child.

Irele had taken home a piece of a machine to her house, a personal project of sorts, completely unrelated to her work. She settled herself on the small worktable in her bedroom and immediately casts her lamp’s light on the working space. A metal rod put together with various, mismatching shafts and components held together by screws and sewn leather wrappings; it’s even a miracle that it worked, one way or another, it would serve better as a melee weapon than that of a Magnaguard’s electro-staff. Perhaps this staff is one of the many testaments of Irele’s skillfulness and resourcefulness, for growing up as a hustler and being exposed to machinery at an early age.

As she grew, she always donned a woven scarf made by Shmi. It has been a few years or so, and the heartache is very much fresh; every time she catches a glimpse of her headstone, with Cliegg’s next to it, the healing wound is ripped open once again—though she found comfort in confiding and speaking to both of them as if they were still alive, sitting with her and listening.

“Oh, circuitry should be here. Mom would have pointed that out too.” she mumbled to herself as she fiddled the wires with the sharp end of a thin screwdriver.

Come the hour of sunset, Irele had finished her chores after her handicraft. In the middle of her working, she felt a presence—it was sage and calming—she also heard the grunting of a single eopie. Curious, she and Beru went to the door. She was right about the eopie, carrying a single rider who held the reins with only one hand and is carrying something with the other. Irele thought the hooded rider to be her brother, as she remembered his own cloak, but the cowl revealed a slightly older man—his jaw was covered with a full, sandy-brown beard, his eyes were kind and yet she hinted the sadness in them, as if tragedy had befell him shortly before coming here.

It was Obi-Wan.

When the stranger coaxed the animal to kneel, he carefully hopped down, and supported his precious cargo with his free arm. He approaches the older girl and she willingly takes what he gave. The wide sleeve of his robe gave way to show an infant boy, perhaps a few weeks old. Beru and Irele’s eyes lit up, they spoke nothing to the stranger but they bid him with a short, polite bow.

Obi-Wan noticed the second girl, her olive skin and brown eyes gave him a memory of Anakin—the reminder sharply jabbed him into the recesses of his mind. The angry voices, the echoes of the sputtering lava, and the sorrowful howling of Anakin drummed behind his ears.

“Are you alright, sir?” Irele noticed.

“Oh, dear. I am fine, thank you,” he cleared his throat and tucked his arms inside his sleeves. “I am just not used to travel here in this place… but I will be.”

“I see.”

“My dear, may I know your name?”

“It is Irele…”

“Irele…?”

“Irele Skywalker-Lars.”

Obi-Wan slowly angled his head upwards, concealing his surprise as her name sinks into him.

Another Skywalker?

“Well, Irele,” he cleared his throat again. “May I ask a favor from you?”

“I’ll do my best to fulfill it.”

“I’m sure you can,” Obi-Wan’s gaze went to Beru carrying the baby who joined her husband, Owen, looking at the binary sunset. “Take care of him.”

“I don’t mean to sound uptight but… Who is he to me?”

“He’s your family. Your nephew. His name is Luke.”

Irele was a smart girl. She knew whose son the infant would have belonged to. A part of her wanted to ask where the father is—her brother—but perhaps it was for the best that she does not obligate the stranger to indulge her questions.

“Then I’ll do everything in my power to keep him safe.”

“I know, Irele,” Kenobi smiled, although a little sadly. “I know.”

“Sir, I’m sorry but I don’t know your name.”

“Ben… Ben Kenobi.”

Kenobi did not stay long in the premises of the homestead. He bowed to Irele, who returned the gesture, and returned to his steed. The eopie grunted as Kenobi hauled the reins to the right side, then spurred the tall quadruped to the distance, clouds of sand puffing under its hooves until the figure disappears as the twin suns set.

When Kenobi was gone from her sight, she turned to her brother and sister-in-law, along with their nephew—whom Owen would have probably called his son, given the chance. Irele was excited. She was already thinking of the things she and Luke would do—what games they’d play, what machines she’d teach him to fix, what kind of speeders could they hop on together.

He was the brother she never had.

From a certain point of view, it’s a wrong that she could right, while fulfilling her promise to Kenobi.

After Beru nursed the infant, she laid him down on their bed, Irele never left Luke’s side. She chuckled every time he would squirm, coo, and smile at her. Her heart fluttered and she fell in love with him. When Beru left the two children alone, Irele tasked herself to watch over him.

She moved her finger to his tiny hand and with his tiny, soft fingers he clasped her thumb with a grip as light as a feather. Irele’s heart melted once more.

And then she whispered as she kissed the tiniest hand that held hers, “I’ll keep you safe, Luke. I’ll always protect you.”

14 notes · View notes

tracelessrp · 4 years ago

Photo

YONA GREENSPAN is a 21 year old FEMALE WEREWOLF, who looks a lot like SARA WAISGLASS. YONA spends time at Traceless because HER PACK IS THERE AND SHE LOVES OPEN MIC NIGHTS AT THE CAFE. SHE is known for BEING AN EXCITABLE WEREWOLF AND BANGING OUT THE TUNES.

Hometown: Nyack, New York Current Residence: Traceless Special Abilities: Yona is a werewolf, and fairly standard as it comes to abilities. Even when not shifted, she is faster and stronger than she looks, and has particularly good stamina. She has relatively good control over her shifts, and only starts to wolf out when she is really excited.

It does not seem like she has any other special abilities due to being a werewolf. However, she is moderately convinced that if she keeps trying to test out various powers, she will find another one out. She has a list of options that she has eliminated.

Apart from the supernatural stuff, Yona enjoys and has an ear for music. Her aunt and uncle put her into piano lessons when she was little, and she spent a lot of time practicing. She can pick up a guitar and get some chords down, but she doesn’t really like it as much as keys and singing. It can be difficult to get her to stop singing, and she isn’t very quiet about it.

Character Background:

tw: death, death of a mother, neglect of child

Arielle Greenspan had a one night stand after a night out with a friend of an acquaintance, and promptly put it out of mind until she realized that she was pregnant two months later. Arielle decided having a baby would be a great idea, and proceeded to get fully into baby fever. Playing it by ear, Arielle had her little girl, and shifted most of her work to home. Arielle’s younger brother Joey, completely bewildered by the concept of children, asked bluntly if the dad was in the picture. The answer was no, and Joey did not get much more information out of his sister than that.

As for the child, she had a pleasant early childhood. While Yona would color within the lines, she had an odd way of doing it. Yona wasn’t stupid, but she never had the finest grasp on common sense. She was an affectionate, exuberant little girl who she loved following her mom around, leading her Uncle Joey to call her a duckling. Joey enjoyed being the fun uncle, but he had never imagined that he would need to be anything more than that. ‘Godfather’ was supposed to just be a formality- a title to say that you wanted to be there in the kid’s life, right? He never seriously considered that he would have to lose his older sister so soon.

Joey had literally just gotten married three months ago, and had been looking forward to child-free adventures with his wife Genevieve for the foreseeable future. And now he had to worry about a kid who couldn’t be trusted not to put a fork in the electrical outlet? He seriously considered what would happen if he put up his six year old niece for adoption, but after Arielle’s funeral, Yona pouted and wouldn’t let go of his hand for two hours, so he had to keep her. Surely he could still get to go on his adventures as long as he found a good babysitter.

Yona’s childhood and adolescence were a little odd. She was always left under the care of somebody when Joey and Gen got the traveling itch, but those were often eccentric friends that were clueless about what to do with a kid. Sometimes her aunt and uncle brought her along on their adventures, and she was left to roam around European cities untethered. Joey and Gen read exactly zero parenting resources, and they were proud of it. Most nine year olds don’t receive a vibrator for their birthday without explanation, for example.

As sex-positive an environment as the Greenspan home was, Yona was left to the mercy of the American sex education program for any actual guidance. Twelve year old Yona, brimming with questions, asked the teacher if it was normal for girls going through puberty to “grow hair in weird places, feel really emotional all of a sudden, and have your body start to change?” After vehement reassurance that of course this was normal along with some arcane-looking diagrams of the human body, it took Yona three months to realize that it was in fact not normal to change into an entire wolf once a month. Her uncle and aunt agreed that this was very weird, but Gen had always been really into learning about the paranormal and mythology in general. After taking Yona to several obviously fake psychics and to meet up with some guy on Craigslist that sincerely believed that he was a werewolf but definitely wasn’t, Gen had almost given up hope.

On a trip when she was thirteen, Yona started talking randomly to a lady in a pie shop (she loved chatting with strangers and her aunt and uncle rarely stopped her).. and the woman happened to be another werewolf. Since werewolves had a good sense of smell in identifying their own kind and other supernatural species, the stranger lady asked Yona some tentative questions. Latching immediately onto this random woman she had just met (she said her name was HJ), she had a very informational and oddly calming conversation. Only after sharing more information than you should probably share with an adult stranger and promises from HJ for help finding a pack in New York agreed to join her very first pack did she grab her Aunt Gen. Unfortunately, HJ didn’t live in New York, so Yona had to join a pack with a whole bunch of strangers instead of her chill new adult friend. And the new pack was pretty nice. Yona thought that being part of a pack was way better than having to deal with the painful shifts on her own in the backyard.

Getting to join her own secret grown-up pack prompted Yona to start acting out more. She stayed out late, threw parties at the house when her aunt and uncle weren’t home, and pulled some truly epic pranks. The weirdest part was that Joey and Gen didn’t seem to notice or care. She would skip school sometimes and nobody at home would even mention it. All she wanted was to be noticed. She played up how much alcohol and drugs she was doing (basically nothing), and her aunt and uncle completely ignored it. She tried sleeping with some okay boy at her school when she was sixteen, but felt gross afterward and decided for once maybe she didn’t want every speck of attention she could get. She had been planning on telling her aunt matter-of-factly about that, but decided to keep at least that much to herself. It took Yona a full year to figure out that oh, she was interested in girls instead. Something about telling a pretty girl that she painfully turned into a big gray wolf every month made her feel insecure. It didn’t help that Yona found herself absolutely infatuated with just about every woman she met. Some crushes were deeper than others, but her feelings always felt real, exciting, and devastatingly painful. From her perspective, love was both brutal and amazing, and she wanted nothing more than to find it- even if it hurt. Still, it took Yona another year to admit out loud that she was gay (so gay), and desperate. What really pissed her off was when she came out to her uncle and aunt, only for Joey to reply with a casual, “Yeah, we’ve known since you were twelve.” Well it would have helped if someone had given her a hint!

Yona moved out of her aunt and uncle’s as soon as she had her high school diploma under her belt, and tried to figure out what she wanted to do with herself. Apparently, her mom had been on track to be some sort of superstar consultant. Most of the estate was funneled into a trust set up for Yona. Uncle Joey had told her he couldn’t figure out how any of that money stuff worked, and had done what the financial advisor guy who was in charge of the trust told him to do with the money. Yona didn’t feel like a trust fund baby or anything, but it was nice to know that even if she messed up, her mom had wanted to make sure she was okay. A lot of the time, Yona wondered if her mom would have been proud of her.

After moving out, Yona left her New York pack on good terms, and bought a motorcycle. Her aunt had shown her how to ride (it had only led to two near-wrecks), and this seemed more cinematic than buying a junker car that stood a chance of breaking down to drive across the country. She had been accepted at a couple of colleges (she’d kept her grades up well enough in spite of everything), but did not feel strongly about going to school when she felt weirdly stuck. Her aunt and uncle had never felt like parents, and she fantasized about discovering herself out west. Riding across the country (and getting hella lost in South Dakota… how was she supposed to keep the two Dakotas straight?) was a formative experience. It was a good thing that she had werewolf strength and instincts because Yona did not get any less naïve through this experience.

Eventually, she wound up in Seattle, which Yona thought was a bit like New York through a puddle. She didn’t really know if she even liked Seattle (mostly she just didn’t get it), but she did learn that there was a super cool-seeming café that catered to people like her. Or, well, werewolves plus a whole bunch of other species that Yona had not given a thought further than “they exist” to. For some reason, the café people wouldn’t let her bring her motorcycle into the shop so that she could have it on the other side of… well, wherever she wanted to take it. Anyway, Yona decided that she liked Traceless pretty well, and also really liked the idea of getting in on those open mic nights. Traceless was a lot better than trying to get lost somewhere even more frustrating than the Dakotas, so she stuck around. She enrolled in college, and half by-accident joined a new pack. It was great! She got to see HJ again and actually be in a pack with her. A lot of the Bonfire Pack lived in a cluster of houses in Traceless, and Yona enthusiastically moved in one with HJ. To anyone that asked, HJ was her aunt, but they were also not related in any way. Her new pack was a lot more dysfunctional and much less organized than her first pack, but Yona liked it better that way. After about four years in Traceless, she was one term away from graduating in the fall term, and not sure what she planned to do with herself apart from pitching in around the pack’s camp.

(ooc: lisa, 29, she/her, pacific)

#species: werewolf #death tw #death of mother tw #child abuse tw

2 notes · View notes

fedeipox · 4 years ago

Text

The Way of Time (Rdr2 fanfic) - Chapter 4 (1/3)

There are a tons of hidden or very rare missions I’ve never found during the THREE playthrough I made. This was one. I found it absolutely by accident the third time and now thanks to YouTube I know there is also a continue to it that I’ve never done -.-

Previously on TWoT: Emily begins to understand how things work in camp, she gets familiar with hierarchy, roles, personalities, and most important, she starts building friendships. Now it’s time to discover how life outside camp is.

Chapter 4 (1/3) - City girl, country life

Words: 2,3k

“Are you sure about this?” asked Emily as Mary-Beth and Tilly helped her with the boots.

“Yeah, don’t worry. See? They fit you perfectly” answered Mary-Beth pulling the laces.

She had lend her her black boots, while Tilly had given her her light blue shirt. They had found out they had the same size.

Emily felt like an idiot, she felt ridiculous, she couldn’t wait to wear something new, something more normal, but she was aware that wasn’t going to be possible. How could it be that in 1899 women still dressed in that way? She thought that puffed sleeves and lacework were already outdated, but apparently not. Besides, the idea of that shirt on her skin was making her shiver, and even though both Tilly and Mary-Beth had assured her it was clean and unused, it took a little to convince her to wear it.

“What is this?” asked Mary-Beth when Emily removed her hoodie and t-shirt so that she was wearing only her bra.

“Don’t you have it?” she asked in turn.

They both shook their heads.

“And how do you hold your breasts up?”

“Why you need to hold them up? Are you afraid they’d fall?” asked Karen’s sarcastic voice.

She shouldn’t have been there, Emily didn’t want her there, and the feeling was mutual, but they needed someone who checked no-one would come close as she was changing her clothes, and no-one was better than Karen for that kind of job.

“So you wear nothing?” asked Emily.

“Not usually. Society women wear corsets. Miss O’Shea’s got one” answered Mary-Beth.

“Who’s Miss O’Shea?”

“The redhead with the princess attitude” replied Tilly.

“Oh, you mean Molly. Yeah, I’ve met her.”

“So you already call her by her name. You’ll be great friends, no doubt” said Karen.

Emily huffed and rolled her eyes.

“So, this… bra, you all wear it in the future?” asked Mary-Beth.

Karen scoffed.

“Yes. Every woman has one, or more than one.”

“When were they invented? Or, when will they be invented?”

“I have no idea. I thought in the middle 1800’s, but it seems not.”

“No, still too early apparently.” Emily liked talking with Mary-Beth. Among the girls she was the most open-minded and seemed not to question her provenience from the future. Talk with her was easy. Karen didn’t believe her one bit, but Emily didn’t expect less, while Tilly was still skeptic, but maybe not impossible to convince.

“I wish I could come with you” said Mary-Beth with disappointment.

“Why don’t you? You can advise me on clothes” replied Emily with a new flush of excitement.

“I can’t. Miss Grimshaw will get angry.”

“But… I don’t understand. Is she some kind of camp tyrant? You all keep telling me how horrible she is.”

“Because she is” said Karen.

“No, she’s not. Not the way you make her sound” Tilly addressed her.

“And you have your freedom. She can’t force you to stay here” added Emily as she wore Tilly’s shirt.

“Oh, yes she can” murmured Mary-Beth.

Emily frowned at those words.

“Well then… I’ll ask her. Kindly” she said.

“Kindness don’t work with Grimshaw” chuckled Karen.

“We’ll sneak out, then.”

“You can try, but when she’ll find out and hit you, remember my words” Karen advised her.

“Hit me?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time” added Tilly.

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. From the way they were describing her, this woman seemed a monster.

“Hey hey, where you think you’re going?” Emily heard Karen saying with a menacing voice.

“We need to go. Is she ready?” asked Lenny.

“Yes, I’m coming” Emily said.

Then, she turned to look at Mary-Beth’s disappointed face again. She wanted to go with her and Emily wanted it too, even if that meant risking Miss Grimshaw’s wrath.

“Come with me. I’ll take all the responsibility” Emily assured her and took her by her hand as she walked around the wagon and reached Lenny.

“She’s coming too” she said to the boy.

“Alright, let’s go.” They walked to the other side of camp from where their tent was and from the distance Emily spotted Mr. Arthur tiding a couple of horses to a wagon very similar to the one she was on the day before, maybe exactly the same.

“Come quick, before she sees us” Emily whispered to Mary-Beth.

“Morning, ladies. You joining us?” Mr. Morgan asked to Mary-Beth.

“Yes, I want her to come. She’ll be my advisor” replied Emily.

“Does Miss Grimshaw know?”

The two girls exchanged a look.

“Okay, hop on. Quick” whispered Mr. Arthur, walking fast towards the front of the wagon.

Emily smiled at Mary-Beth: they had his complicity. The two of them climbed on the back and sat one facing the other, right next to the big deer Charles Smith had hunted that morning. That would have made them earn a couple of dollars and with that little they had been able to pick up around camp, it should have been enough to buy supplies and provide food for more than twenty people.

Arthur and Lenny took the leading places and they started to move, passing through the trees that covered the clearing with the camp and reaching the path, all without talking. Fearing a travel full of an embarrassing silence, Emily knew she had to find a topic of conversation and thinking about Mary-Beth and what she had understood about her in that couple of days, she thought that books would be a good start.

“So, I’ve seen you read a lot. What kind of books do you like?” she asked.

“Well, mostly novels about female heroines and their adventures” Mary-Beth replied with some uneasiness, just like she was ashamed of that.

“Oh, so you’re the type who loves romantic stories. In my time you’d probably love Twilight.”

“What is it?”

“A love story between a girl and a vampire.”

Mary-Beth’s eyes widened.

“Vampires? You mean those monsters who suck people’s blood?”

“Actually, in the book the vampires are handsome.”

“Oh for God’s sake” Emily heard Mr. Morgan complain, but she pretended she didn’t.

“Yes. You would definitely adore it. But maybe it’s better if we talk about something you’d now. What about erm… Jane Austen, have you read something of hers?”

Mary-Beth shook her head.

“Oh you must, she’s great. What about… the Bronte sisters?”

Again, Mary-Beth had no idea.

“Well, I guess my first present to you will be a book.”

“Why would you buy me a present?”

Emily frowned. She thought Mary-Beth had already understood what kind of relationship she wanted to built with her, but apparently she had not.

“Because… we’re friends. I mean, I want to be friend with you.”

“But you don’t know me.”

“That’s why I want to be friend with you, to know you.”

Mr. Morgan chuckled again and looking at him for a second Emily saw him shaking his head. Again, she tried not to mind him.

“So, what do you like to do, besides reading?”

Mary-Beth seemed suddenly uncomfortable, just like she had asked her an impossible question.

“I-I don’t know.”

“Come on, there must be something. I like music, for example. What do you like?”

“I-I… I write, from time to time.”

“Hey that’s great! Do you write love adventures?”

“M-more or less.”

“And do you think you’ll publish them someday?”

“N-no, I don’t think so.” “Why?”

“Well, Karen always says my dream of becoming a writer is stupid and I…”

“Why would she say something like that?”

“I think you’ll soon find out Karen is a little too… practical sometimes” said Lenny from the front.

“But, isn’t she your friend?” Emily asked to Mary-Beth.

“Of course, that’s why she says these things, to save me from some delusion. At least, that’s what she tells me”

“I understand being down to earth is important, but you don’t have to give up on your dream, Mary-Beth. Dreams are important, they give us hope.”

“Oh please!” exclaimed Mr. Arthur from the front.

Emily looked again at his back, annoyed by his constant complaining. If he didn’t like the things she was saying, he could have said it to her face, not make grimaces behind her back like children do.

“Why it gives me the impression you don’t like what I’m saying, Mr. Morgan?” she asked.

“Because I don’t. It’s all bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit, it’s my opinion.”

“Well then, your opinion is bullshit. And you Mary-Beth, don’t let her put them stupid ideas in your mind.”

“I’m not putting any idea in her mind, and she’s not a child, she’s a woman, she perfectly knows how to think by herself and decide what is bullshit and what’s not.”

“I’m just saying writing is no job. It’s just a way to spend time.”

“Like you do, right Arthur? Don’t you have a little journal of your own?” asked Mary-Beth.

When Emily looked at her, she saw she had a little crooked smile on her face and they exchanged a complicity look. Sweet Mary-Beth had an evil side after all, and Emily liked it.

“Ah is that so? You scribble on a journal like a thirteen year old girl, Mr. Morgan?” Emily asked with a mellifluous tone.

“I just keep note of the important events, that’s all” he replied, but his voice betrayed some embarrassment, he’d got defensive.

“And the drawings are part of the important events, too?” asked Mary-Beth creeping in like a treacherous snake.

“So, you truly are a thirteen year old girl with her little secret diary. Any more embarrassing things I should know about you?” joked Emily.

“At least I’m not the one who tells stories about blood sucking people!”

“You should listen to yourselves! I thought to be the youngest here, but it seems we have two children Mary-Beth!” laughed Lenny.

“Hey, I’m not the one who started it!”

“Shut up, Arthur.”

...

Silence fell as Arthur felt ashamed for being called child by someone way younger than him. He whipped the horses and made them cross the train trails: they were close to town. Soon they would have found civilization! What a thrill…

“What about you Lenny? What do you like to do?” asked the new girl.

Arthur grunted, but soon tried to hide it with a cough. He didn’t want to sound as childish as they blamed him to be.

“I truly don’t know” replied Lenny.

“You don’t know how you spend time in camp?” asked the girl.

“Most of the time I spend trying to teach Sean how to read” he giggled.

Him and Arthur looked at each other and then they looked away as a veil of sadness fell on them all.

“Isn’t Sean one of those captured after Blackwater?” asked Emily.

Mary-Beth nodded and for some time they all stayed quiet.

Even though Lenny didn’t show it a lot, Sean’ absence was painful for him, he liked him and he missed him and the fact that they didn’t know where he was or if he was alive, made everything worse. He tried to focus the attention on something else.

“What are we going to do in Valentine?” he asked to Arthur.

“Just what we are supposed to. Go to the general store, buy supplies and come back right away.”

“We can’t go back so soon. I need to do something” said the new girl.

“What is it?” asked Arthur, but he already new the answer, she had told him the day before.

“I need to find some kind of job, something that could help us gain some money. And then I have to buy some clothes, so that I don’t have to borrow other people things. And then… I have to take a bath, I really do.”

“We’re going to stay all day” joked Lenny.

“No, we are not. We’ll split up, so we’ll take care of more things at a time” said Arthur, who had no intention to spend all day in town.

“I’ll go with Emily for the clothes and the bath” said Mary-Beth smiling at her.

Even if at the beginning she wanted to go with them to Valentine only to keep an eye on her, just like Miss Grimshaw had told her to do, she couldn’t deny Emily was funny and smart and sweet, everything that could make her a really good friend, and Mary-Beth knew how much she wanted a good friend.

Valentine was nothing but mud, sheep, and probably morons, just like Hosea had told them. As he led the wagon across the slimy street, Arthur looked around, studying the people faces, the buildings, the kind of movements that town had, and for a moment he doubted they were going to actually find something in that place, some opportunities. He stopped the wagon right in front of the general store so that it would be easier for them to load the supplies on the back.

“Alright folks, let’s get to work” he said jumping down.

“Ooh shit!” he heard the new girl’s voice saying and walking around the wagon he found her standing there with her feet among the mud and a disgusted face.

“What?” he asked.

She raised her eyes to look at him with the same angry expression he had seen on her the night before, with those thick blonde eyebrows curled on her big sparkling eyes.

“I’m covered in mud!” she squeaked.

She really wasn’t, there were a couple of mud drops on her legs, but nothing more, she had no idea of what the sentence “covered in mud” meant, and this annoyed Arthur, making him think how silly that girl was.

“Come, as you said you have to buy some new, right?” he said taking her arm and pushing her towards the general store entrance.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption #red dead redemption fanfiction #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female oc #mary-beth gaskill #tilly jackson #karen jones #lenny summers

11 notes · View notes

rcncgaades · 4 years ago

Photo

↪ brief introduction to prudence eaton.

BASICS

full name: prudence camryn eaton. nickname(s): prue, percy ( vastly preferred ). age: twenty-eight. date of birth: 19 october 1992. zodiac sign: libra. place of birth: blackpool, lancashire, england, united kingdom. ethnicity: white. nationality: british. gender: cis female. sexual orientation: homosexual. romantic orientation: homoromantic. religion: she was raised in a protestant household but her family was never all that tied to actively practicing religion and it was never something percy considered all that important to her day-to-day life. as an adult she’s definitely more agnostic leaning than anything. education: bachelors of science in zoology ( university of derby ), masters in biodiversity, evolution & conservation ( university college london ), dphil in zoology ( university of oxford ). occupation: research zoologist & wildlife photographer. language(s) spoken: english ( primarily ), french, german, russian, polish ( learned to the point of being able to carry on conversations during research projects across continental europe ). accent: she has a thick and immediately apparent northern english accent. she hasn’t lived in the united states for a significant period of time and it doesn’t take anyone more than a word or two to realize percy isn’t american.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

face claim: amelia eve. hair color: blonde ( she dyes it brown on occasion but for the most part it’s blonde ). eye color: green. height: 5′3″. weight: 120 lbs. build: slim, athletic. tattoos: an intricate tattoo of a lion on her back ( here ), a half sleeve flower themed tattoo on her left arm ( here ), a small tattoo on the inside of her right bicep of the sun rising/falling over the ocean inspired by a drawing her baby brother gave her when they were children ( here ). piercings: she has traditional ear piercings in her firsts and seconds, she has a nose ring in her left nostril; she had an eyebrow piercing for a long while but took it out when she began guest lecturing and occasionally teaching in earnest– it’s healed up since then. distinguishing characteristics: her accent, how bright and warm she is, her tattoos & piercings, how smart she is ( or so she’s been told by many, many people after speaking to them for all of five minutes ).

PERSONALITY

label: the adventurer. positive traits: adventurous, articulate, brilliant, charismatic, charming, compassionate, considerate, dedicated, earnest, empathetic, forgiving, genuine, hardworking, intuitive, loyal, passionate, sociable, sweet, warm. negative traits: ambitious, competitive, proud, sarcastic, stubborn. assertive, boisterous, excitable, haughty, obsessive, possessive, silly, superstitious. goals/desires: to make a positive impact on her community, to live a better life as an adult than she did as a child, to spend the rest of her life doing things she loves, to fall happily in love. fears: failure, proving to everyone where she grew up that she’s just as useless as they’d always claimed, disappointing her little brother, never seeing either of her brothers again, becoming anything like the worst parts of her parents. hobbies: spending time with her family, smoking ( both weed and tobacco cigarettes ), cooking, baking, gardening when she has the time to do it and the weather’s right for it, hiking, reading, doing research of almost any kind, spending time with her friends, going out– drinking, dancing, anything that lets her be social, watching nature documentaries, listening to podcasts, playing video games, learning new things, knitting, sex. quirks: she talks with her hands extensively, she self-corrects out loud if she uses british slang for something rather than the american equivalent, she rarely raises her voice for any reason at all, she can rattle off her favorite animals and fun facts about them at any given moment with no preparation whatsoever, she almost always has some pop song or another stuck in her head and can be heard humming it until she remembers the words. likes: animals of all kinds, mystery novels, nature documentaries, david attenborough, expensive liquor, pot brownies, baked goods of almost every kind, horror movies, music, flowers, being around people, sex, flirting, star wars, most marvel movies, rpg based video games, podcasts, true crime documentaries, her little brother, being a chef, learning anything new, talking to people about things they’re passionate about, her adopted parents & family. dislikes: her older brother, her childhood, people who don’t respect her & the hard work that’s gone into getting her to where she is in life, dark chocolate, milk, toxic people, accidentally killing plants, being alone for long periods of time, boredom, people who pick fights just to pick fights, bigots.

FAMILY

father: simon james ‘sj’ garrick ( biological ). mark william eaton ( adopted ). mother: claire ophelia ashby ( biological ). rose katherine eaton née prescott ( adopted ). sibling(s): jack charles garrick ( older ) & thomas rupert eaton ( younger ). michael andrew eaton ( older, adopted ). pet(s): a bernese mountain dog named jason & an australian cattle dog named piper. financial status: upper middle class.

BIOGRAPHY

( TW: teenage pregnancy, infidelity, drug use, overdose )

By all accounts— by every metric Percy could use to quantify the fact as an adult— Simon Garrick and Claire Ashby had never been ready to be parents. Was anyone ever really ready to be a parent? It was a question Percy had asked herself constantly as she’d gotten older but it had never been her place to judge– her parents hadn’t done her any favors but for at least some time they had tried to be present and helpful and Percy could never fault them for that. Blackpool– a seaside resort town on the English coast– had been home to Simon and Claire as long as they both could remember but they had remained strangers to one another until they met through a mutual friend when they were seventeen years old. The attraction had been immediate– a spark neither of them were prepared to deal with but allowed to catch and ignite the moment they met, an encounter that resulted in an unplanned pregnancy and a great deal of responsibility neither of them wanted staring them both in the face. Simon dropped out of sixth form promptly to begin working in earnest and provide for the family he certainly hadn’t expected to have but was willing to work to support nonetheless; Claire, after informing her parents, remained in school at her parents’ request though their relationship became strained from that moment on.

When Jack was born the couple was delighted— Simon took to being a father rather quickly and seemed to enjoy it while Claire was an absent mother at best in spite of Simon’s many attempts to help her feel more present in their son’s life. It was no secret to anyone at all that Claire was cheating on Simon with what was rumored to be every eligible man in Blackpool and though Simon was heartbroken by the rumors and the confidence he felt in their truthfulness– he never brought the issue up with Claire– choosing instead to look after their son and try to hold their family together as best he could. It was yet another accident that marked Claire’s second pregnancy when Jack was five and though Simon wasn’t even reasonably confident that the child was his he again prepared himself to be a father as best he possibly could. Percy was born on a cool October morning and from the moment she uttered her first cry her father was devoted to her and for the first time her mother dove headfirst into caring for both of her children with a zeal she’d never demonstrated prior.

Though they were on the poorer side they were happy for a great deal of Percy’s initial childhood and seemed to be primed to be that much happier when Claire found out she was pregnant with her third child when Percy was seven. It was yet more of the same in the Garrick-Ashby household until Tommy was around two and Claire eloped with a family friend and informed Simon plainly that she couldn’t handle being stuck in a dead end town with a dead end life and three children she hadn’t wanted in the first place. Simon was devastated but for the first year or two following Claire’s departure he managed to hold both himself and the family together rather well. Percy– already a brilliant girl intellectually and a spot of sunshine in the world as far as her father was concerned– began to help around the house to take some of the worry away from her father even going so far as to look after her baby brother whenever she wasn’t at school. Jack, who was sixteen, more or less stopped coming home and though Percy was aware he was essentially living with a friend’s across town she considered his absence in her life nothing short of abandonment and even as an adult holds a deep resentment towards him for that fact.

Things for the Garrick family began to unravel slowly— Simon began to spend what money he earned from work on cocaine and other drugs– he was still present and still loving but Percy found herself more and more becoming a parent to Tommy rather than a sister. When she was twelve Simon’s habits escalated to a rather expensive heroin addiction that Percy could hardly process, let alone deal with and though she tried her best to raise her brother and herself it was difficult for a child to raise another child. She was nearly thirteen when she came home from school with Tommy in tow to find their father had overdosed in their kitchen— an overdose that would, even after her frantic call to emergency services, eventually lead to his death. Without extended family to look after them and with Jack’s refusal to take on the responsibility of raising siblings he hardly knew both Percy and Tommy became wards of court.

Percy– already with a reputation for being a brilliant student– threw herself into her studies with that much more zeal as she and Tommy adjusted to life with their first foster family; her IQ was tested and she was placed into progressively more advanced courses until she was taking university classes part-time by the time she entered year eleven. Her foster parents supported her fully and there was frequent talk of adoption for both herself and Tommy— who was easily the most important person in her life bar none. She was very nearly eighteen by the time the adoption paperwork was processed and both she and Tommy were officially members of the Eaton family. Though she was reluctant to leave Tommy behind when she’d been his primary caregiver for so many years prior to being placed with their adoptive family it was the encouragement of her adoptive parents Mark and Rose that finally reassured Percy to the point of feeling comfortable applying to universities about as far away from Blackpool as she could get without leaving the country. Higher education was a world of splendor for Percy who had always been so fiercely curious and sharply intelligent– she finished her undergraduate degree six months earlier than most of his graduating class before moving on to study further.

Animals and zoology had been passions of hers from the moment she visited a zoo for the first time on an outing with her parents when she was still very young. She was fascinated by animals of all sorts and wanted to know everything about how to care for them and preserve the environments they called home. It seemed the logical choice for her to follow her chosen course of study as far as she could-- and when she was twenty-six she walked away from Cambridge with a degree in zoology to her name and several research positions made available to her over the whole of continental Europe and beyond if she chose to take them. Traveling across Europe to do the thing she loved more than anything in the world was a gift Percy had never had any inkling of taking advantage of and she eventually began to give guest lectures at universities in major cities near her work sites as well as develop a passion for photography she found delightful to explore when she was researching in far away countries she’d never imagined even seeing as a child. When her research positions drew closer to their deadlines and the projects she’d been working on were finalized she began to search for another place to call home-- eventually settling on Turtle Bay due largely in part to the fact that Tommy had found his way to the area for college and Percy couldn’t think of anything more delightful than doing work she loved with her little brother at her side-- even if the work is a bit more sporadic than she’d like-- she’s always been able to look on the bright side of things and she doesn’t see that changing.

#「 percy — general 」 » prudence eaton.#intro.

2 notes · View notes

calpalirwin · 5 years ago

Text

The Promise

Summary: Continuation of The Promise Part 1

A/N: I’M EMOTIONAL!!!!

Content: Dad!Ash and his growing family.

Word Count: 1.7K

And away, and away we go!

Part 2

Ashton’s phone rang shrilly. “Fuck, I’m so sorry,” he giggled pulling out his phone. He rolled his eyes as he answered the phone. “Seriously, Cal? You guys do this to us every damn time.”

“Yeah, well we got a situation on our hands, mate,” Calum replied in a clipped tone. “Nora! Talk to your dad!”

Ashton heard his daughter scream in the background. “I don’t want to talk to him! I said leave me alone!”

Ashton chuckled. “Can I finish my date, or?”

“I dunno, mate. She’s locked herself in the bathroom. Her attitude is through the roof. I haven’t seen her this bad in… fuck, how long has it been?”

Ashton chuckled again, remembering all too well. “Alright, alright. Be there in 10.”

“Super dad duty calls?” she chuckled as Ashton ended the call.

He offered her his hand as he stood up, taking her with him. “C’mon, darling. Let’s go see why our babysitters suck this time.”

~~~

“Daddy?” Nora’s voice whispered in the dark, followed by a loud sniff.

Ashton rubbed the sleep from his eyes, yawning. “What’s wrong, love?”

“I want Mommy,” was the heartbroken response before the six year old was crawling in next to him, and her tears were soaking his shirt.

“Shh, love,” he soothed, now wide awake and moving to cradle his daughter. “We’ll go see her tomorrow, okay?”

“Can we call her?” she sniffed.

“Call her?” he asked, confused. “Love, we can’t call her. I wish we could, but we’ll go see her tomorrow, okay? First thing, I promise.”

“No, not Momma. Call Mommy!”

Ashton blinked. Maybe he was still half-asleep, but he could’ve sworn Nora just called Y/N “mommy”. “Y/N? You want me to call Y/N?”

“Yeah! Mommy!”

“Oh! Yeah, love, we can call Mommy.” He grabbed his phone, not even glancing at the time as he pulled up her contact and hit call.

“Ash?” he voice mumbled sleepily as she picked up on the first ring. “Ash, it’s… 2 am. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, darling. Nora wanted you.”

“Mommy!” Nora said, grabbing the phone. “Mommy, I miss you!”

“Sweetie, hi!”

Ashton laid back against the pillows, a smile on his face, listening to Nora talk with Y/N. “Baby, you’re insane,” he whispered.

The night air blew at the curtain by his open window.

“Alright, alright,” he chuckled.

“Daddy? Who are you talking to?”

“I’m talking with Momma, love. See the curtain moving?”

“Momma’s here?”

“Momma’s always here.”

“Can Mommy always be here, too?”

“I dunno,” he shrugged, taking the phone back from Nora. “What do you say, darling? Move in with us?”

“I’d love too. Goodnight my sweeties. I love you”

“Good night, Mommy! Love you!”

“Good night, darling, I love you.” He put his phone back on his nightstand and watched the curtain blow widely. “Yes, good night to you too, baby,” he giggled.

The curtain continued to blow.

“Yeah? You think?”

“What’s Momma saying Daddy?”

He got out of bed and opened his sock drawer, pulling out a small ring box. A ring he never got the chance to give Katie. “But this was supposed to be yours, baby.”

“What is it, Daddy?” appearing at his side.

Ashton crouched down to show his daughter the ring. “I was supposed to give this to Momma. Do you think Mommy would like it?”

Nora’s eyes went wide. “Marry Mommy?”

“Is that okay? Can I marry Mommy? Can she join our family?”

Nora clapped her hands excitedly, bouncing on her feet. “Yes, yes, yes!”

The curtain blew softly for the rest of the night.

~~~

“Mommy, Daddy!” Sebastian hollered, crashing into his parents as they walked in the door.

“Seb! Where’s Nora and your uncles?” Y/N asked their five year old son.

“And why aren’t you in bed?” Ashton added, raising an eyebrow.

Sebastian shrugged his shoulders. “They’re all busy. Uncy Mikey said he’d play with me and he didn’t.” The little boy crossed his arms.

Ashton scooped up the boy and started for the staircase. “You will have to play with Uncy Mikey another night, okay? You need to be in bed, bubba.”

“Nora, just come out of the ba- Ash! Y/N! You’re here!” Calum said, hurriedly rushing over to the pair and wrapping them in a hug. “We’ll take Seb. You can deal with her.”

~~~

“I love you, darling” he murmured as he pulled out of the kiss. Then, he was sinking himself down on his knees, pulling out the small box. “You make me happier than I ever thought was possible. You’ve never tried to fill in that piece of me that I felt I was missing, but instead opened up a whole different piece and made it your own. We love you, and we want to spend our lives with you, as a family. Marry me Y/N?”

“Ash,” she breathes, tears in her eyes. Her gaze shifted to Nora, who was watching with her big wide eyes. “Nora.”

“Say yes, Mommy. Please!” Nora begged.

“Yes!” Y/N laughed, a hand reaching out to ruffle Nora’s hair before Ashton was scrambling to his feet and spinning both his girls around in circles, their laughs echoing around them.

In the corner of the room, the curtain blew.

~~~

“Nora, can I come in, love?” Ashton asked, rapping his knuckles against the bathroom door.

“Go away!”

“Love, come on.”

The door flung open and he smiled gratefully at his daughter, her eyes red from tears, her hair a wild mess. “Hey, love. Can we talk?” he asked, keeping his voice soft.

Nora let loose a wild scream and slammed the door in his face. “LEAVE ME ALONE!”

Ashton pinched the bridge of his nose, taking slow steady breaths. “Don’t get mad, don’t get mad. Baby, she got your attitude, you know that, yeah?”

Y/N chuckled and patted Ashton’s chest affectionately. She adored the way he still talked to Katie when he thought no one was listening. “Let me try?”

Ashton nodded and kissed her forehead, forever grateful for the woman in front of him.

Y/N knocked on the bathroom door. “Sweetie, it’s me. Can I come in?”

The door opened a crack and Nora’s arm reached out to grab Y/N’s, dragging the woman inside before the door slammed again.

~~~

“Hey, baby,” Ashton smiled, running his fingers over the tombstone. “Sorry, I don’t get over here as much anymore. Life’s been… well,” he broke off in a chuckle as he sat down. “You know. I know you know. I know you’ve been watching. Nora is growing more like you every day. Can you believe she’s seven already? I still remember when we brought her home. God, she was so small.”

He paused to wipe at his face and chuckle again. “I know I don’t say it enough. I know I was angry with you for a while. I mean, I love you. How could I want to be with anybody else? I was supposed to be with you. But, I get it now. Well, I think I got it the moment I met her. I mean, I know Crystal set us up, but part of me knows you had a lot to do it with. You never could leave well enough alone, could you, baby? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for wasting time being angry with you. I know now you just wanted to make sure Nora and I were taken care of. And we are. Y/N is so wonderful. I still can’t believe she married me. Did I tell you we’re having a son? God, Nora’s so fuckin’ excited to be a big sister. God, baby, I’m so happy. And I’m so sorry. And I’m so… so many things, it’s crazy. But you knew that already.”

He was about to continue when he got tackled from behind with a loud, “Daddy!”

“Love!” he greeted, pulling Nora over his shoulder, listening to her laugh with glee. “Did you and Mommy have fun?”

“Yeah! We bought Seb some presents. Hi, Momma! Did Daddy tell you about Seb?” And just like that, Nora was chattering away, catching her mom up on all her adventures.

“How ya doing, Ash?” Y/N asked, wrapping her arms around Ashton’s shoulders and kissing his cheek.

“I’m okay,” he answered honestly, kissing at the knuckles around her wedding band.

Her eyes were worried as she peered at his face, reading him, studying him. “You sure?”

He nodded. “Yeah, darling. Never been more sure of anything in my life.”

“Family photo?” she asked, waving her phone.

“Family photo,” he grinned. “Nora, let’s take a family picture!”

“You and Nora first,” Y/N instructed as they crowded around the tombstone.

“Not a chance, darling,” Ashton said, reaching out his hand to pull her down with him and Nora.

“Yeah, Mommy, we’re all a family.”

“Thank you, Katie,” Y/N murmured under her breath so they wouldn’t hear her. But they heard her. And they grinned bigger.

~~~

The bathroom door opened and Nora walked out with Y/N, smiles on both their faces. “Well?” Ashton asked impatiently.

Nora rolled her eyes and huffed. “I just needed Mom, okay?”

“Okay, but could you do it without the attitude next time?”

The girl gave another roll of her eyes. “Could you not get me a babysitter? I’m thirteen. I can watch Seb by myself. I’m a…” her voice dropped to a whisper, “a woman, now, Dad.”

Ashton’s eyes went wide and he looked at Y/N, who just shrugged. “She’s right, Ash. She’s not a little girl anymore. We’re off to the pharmacy.”

Both women kissed his cheek and then they were bounding down the stairs. From the open bathroom door, he saw the curtain blowing. He clicked his tongue and chuckled. “Yeah, I can’t believe it either.”

“Who are you talking to, Daddy?” Sebastian’s voice piped up behind him, making him jump.

He reached down to pick up his son. “I’m talking with Katie, bubba.”

His eyes lit up and he waved at the curtain. “Hi, Momma!”

The curtain blew more.

Sebastian giggled. “Daddy?”

“Yeah, bubba?”

“Can we all go see Momma tomorrow?”

Ashton smiled and hugged Sebastian tighter to him. “That sounds wonderful, bubba. Think Mommy and Sissy will like that?”

He nodded excitedly. “Mhm! We love Momma.”

“Me too,” he murmured, eyes locked on the curtain that was still blowing in the wind. He would always love Katie and the promise he made.

~~~

Tag List (Wanna join? Would love to have ya!)

@goeatsomelife @flameraine @cashtonasff5sos @here-for-the-uproars @cxddlyash @1-irwin-94 @baldcalum @sparkling-chaos @tea4sykes

#the promise #ashton irwin #ashton irwin fic #5sos #galcal irwin #I TOLD YOU I WAS EMOTIONAL!!!#SUFFER WITH ME!!!

42 notes · View notes

firewoodfigs · 5 years ago

Text

chapter 4 of a slow unravelling is up ^_^

read on ao3

some farewells are eternal, others temporal

At age thirteen, Roy Mustang’s world was made up of thick, complicated books, pesky friends who bugged him to fix things for them and sisters who praised him for the little trinkets he transmuted, for this was the nature of most young alchemists learning to be proficient in the art. And while he enjoyed every glorious minute of it, he was admittedly starting to get restless, as most boys his age would from being trapped in a routine. For the most part, though, Roy was content to deal with it quietly - patience was a virtue alchemists had to master, after all - and so he tried to view these mundane days in Central as honing his craft, as delusional as it might have been.

It therefore came as no surprise that he immediately jumped at the opportunity to be shipped off to some unknown town for months - years, even, because the prospect of breaking out of said routine was both terrifying and exhilarating all at once, and Roy had always been the naive, adventurous sort of young lad anyway.

“You in there, Roy-boy?”

“Yes! What’s up, Aunt Chris?” Roy piped up in his squeaky, prepubescent voice as she opened the door. His aunt waltzed into his bedroom, frowning in disapproval when she noticed the books strewn around everywhere in a mess. He smiled sheepishly, but noted that her eyes were slightly red-rimmed - whether from alcohol or from crying, he wasn’t sure, but he took it as his cue to start cleaning up a little (or at least pretend to).

“I have a proposal,” she began. He peered up at her curiously from a particularly dusty tome. “How’d you like to learn alchemy under a certain Berthold Hawkeye?”

Roy’s eyes widened. Though his mouth was open, words eluded him and he didn’t quite know how to react to such shocking, yet exciting news. “I suppose that’s a yes?”

“Yes, yes! Of course!” he grinned from ear to ear, the thought of finally having a master sending him giddy with enthusiasm.

But suddenly he remembered: hadn’t that girl with the awful punch and her mother come from the countryside all those years ago? “Doesn’t he live quite far away from Central, though?”

“That’s right. They live in Tobha, so you’ll be staying with them during your apprenticeship.” Roy pouted glumly. “Oh, don’t look so down, boy,” Christmas said, although her heart clenched traitorously at the thought of sending her precious nephew away. “You can come back and visit anytime. And this is too good of an opportunity to let slip, no?”

He nodded thoughtfully. It was a golden opportunity, and the sudden offer was like an answered prayer.

“Then get packing, Roy-boy. We’ll leave in a few days.” As soon as she uttered those words and left, Roy set about packing immediately, excitement rushing through his veins at the thought of a new beginning.

~x~

On the other hand, Riza’s disdain towards alchemy only grew stronger as the days passed after her mother’s death. The incident that solidified her resolve to stave off alchemy was when she’d brought up the delicate topic of human transmutation to her father at her mother’s grave - something she’d only come across once in her life when her mother had tried to teach her alchemy, but never dared to try.

It turned out to be the most unwise decision, if her father’s rage was any indication to go by. The ultimate taboo, he’d called it. Sacrilegious - she didn’t understand what that word meant, but it must have been something bad. He had simply said that it ‘trespassed the territory of God’ and left it at that.

Riza’s father had never struck her as a religious man, though, so this only aggravated her confusion. Nevertheless, she learnt to never bring it up again, and though she was only all of ten she’d already come to learn that no amount of praying or wishing would bring her beloved mother back.

For the most part, therefore, she spent her days with her sobs and books and sniffles in the isolated quietness of her room. Once or twice, her father might have tried to console her, but his cold, callused hand was unlike her mother’s warm, loving one and provided little comfort.

Occasionally, she would leave the house for the grocer’s with the meagre lot of money her father left behind on the table. But interacting with the townsfolk, Riza found, only worsened the loneliness she felt. Though condolences were offered and sympathies were strewn around, as if distributing some kind of largesse, they were but meaningless platitudes that did nothing to quell the ache in her heart.

She’d come to realise, soon enough, that she very much preferred solitude to company. Unfortunately, her father had informed her that he had another apprentice on the way, and while she’d been terrorised by the previous one she suppressed her fear and simply agreed noncommittally over dinner when he’d asked her to pick them up upon their arrival.

Sighing, Riza sat on the battered swing in their backyard, clutching onto the loosening ropes tightly - as if doing so would preserve whatever was left of her childhood innocence - wishing her mother was still around to play with her and protect her from whatever monsters lurked around in their home.

~x~

“Call. Write. Visit.” Vanessa said sharply, already feeling Roy’s absence. Not that she would ever admit out loud that she was going to miss him: he could be a total pain in the ass, as all brothers were prone to being.

She stepped back to admire her handiwork once more before he boarded the train. Vanessa had taken it upon herself to dress Roy up for his departure and successfully transformed him into a clean, refined boy instead of the scruffy heathen that he generally was, and felt rather proud of the end result.

Roy grinned, not missing her hidden message. “I’m gonna miss you too,” and he reached out to mess with her splendid curls.

She grumbled. “Not the hair!” Roy laughed and hopped onto the train quickly with his aunt before she could get her revenge.

“I’ll see you soon!” He waved excitedly to Vanessa and his other sisters as the train began to depart Central.

Roy sank into the squeaking, rather uncomfortable seat with his aunt, opting for chips and soda for a midway snack while Christmas politely declined.

The thought of having to stand before Victoria’s grave already made her queasy, and she doubted she would be able to stomach anything much.

“Are you okay, auntie?”

“Yeah,” she replied, a weak smile gracing her tired features.

Roy remained unconvinced. His aunt clearly looked bothered, and it hadn’t just been this afternoon. “It’s just…” she paused, massaging her temples a little. “Do you remember Victoria?” Roy nodded.

Christmas sighed. It was hard to explain the concept of death to a thirteen-year-old, but Roy was no ordinary boy. Having lost his parents at such a young age he was well-acquainted with the concept, and in any case he’d studied enough alchemy to understand that the dead didn’t come back from their grave. “She… she died a couple of weeks ago, Roy.”

And suddenly, it clicked. Roy was well capable of taking care of himself despite his relatively tender age, and while he was not the most skilful cook around he would have honestly content to survive on country loaf and a quenched thirst for knowledge.

It wasn’t so much sending him off, as much as it was sending Victoria - the lady he thought he might have bumped into once more in Tobha - off. A chance for her to say her last goodbyes.

“I’m sorry, auntie,” he whispered, leaning over to give her a loose hug as she combed her fingers through his hair.

“I’m okay, boy. Just… make sure you work hard and study well, hm?” Roy nodded vigorously. “And one more thing. Take good care of her daughter, will you?”

Roy flushes in embarrassment, nose wrinkling at the unpleasant memory of the last time he’d met that girl.

Nonetheless, he relents. Anything to make Aunt Chris feel better.

~x~

By the time they arrived the sky was a pretty palette of turquoise and purple, white clouds streaking across delicately like gossamer ribbons. Unhindered by the influx of tall buildings that were Central’s trademark, one could easily see the flickering stars paying a routine prelude to the evening-time that was dawning upon Tobha.

Roy paused for a moment to admire the raffish charm of the rustic countryside, and as he did so he caught a whiff of coffee and bananas welcoming him from the small bakery nestled inconspicuously at the corner of the train station. Despite the countryside’s beauty, though, the atmosphere felt more melancholic than peaceful, and this much was certainly reinforced by the mournful contrition buried within his aunt’s frown.

He reached over to squeeze his aunt’s hand tightly, wishing he could console her somehow.

Some farewells were temporary, like theirs, but others were permanent. Roy knew, from the grief splayed across her face in shades of grey, that a part of herself had dived down six feet under and died with her as well - an eternal farewell, a final ode to her short and enigmatic life.

“Thanks, Roy. Let’s go - wouldn’t want to keep a girl waiting.” Christmas raised her chin to draw Roy’s attention to the scrawny girl seated at the rugged bench on the other end of the train station.

His aunt nudged him to go over to where she was seated, and as the distance between them gets closer Roy realises that her hair was now a lot shorter than he remembered (not that he had a crush on her or anything - it was just difficult to forget the face of the first girl who had punched him for trying to do something nice). It was now a rough, hewn mane, falling somewhere around her chin, and though he figured she would have sent a baleful glare his way by now she seemed lost in thought, sorrow resting on her shoulders like an unwanted shawl.

“Hello, Riza. Thank you for waiting for us,” Christmas tapped her lightly on her shoulder, breaking her out of her reverie. She stood immediately to bow, a little ashamed at herself for being so distracted.

“Not at all. Uh…” Riza scrambled for her name, trying to recall what her mother had called her all those years ago.

“Just call me Aunt Chris, Riza. And this is my nephew - if you remember?”

“Roy Mustang,” he offered with the friendliest smile he could muster, but her propensity to respond with an odd mix of distance and disdain still remained intact after all those years - to him, at least.

“Um, yes. Sorry about that,” Riza says to his aunt, averting her gaze from his. “Shall we go?”

The trio walked together in companionable silence, Riza maintaining a distance from the both of them as she shrank into herself. Roy thought she looked no older than ten, but there was a certain air of maturity - the kind that was forged from hardship and turmoil - around her that didn’t sit well with him.

“Ah, Riza - was it?” came the unfamiliar voice of a stranger halfway through their journey. “I’m sorry about your loss, your mother was a great person,” he offered, but though sympathy laced his condolence there was a sort of half-heartedness to it.

“Thank you,” Riza murmured listlessly as she continued to move ahead.

Roy wondered how many times the girl had heard these senseless platitudes by now. Guilt lingered on the tip of his tongue as he ambled along, unsure of how to comfort the younger girl. Ordinarily, he would have opted for giving his sisters a hug or something along the lines, but they were very tactile and fond of his hugs. Riza, though, was anything but.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Hey… are you alright?”

What a dumb question - clearly she’s not.

“Yes,” she replied, as if out of instinct. Of course she wasn’t going to divulge her feelings to someone she’d only been acquainted with for a grand total of a few hours. Roy kicked himself mentally, though he was thankful that his Aunt had declined to remark on his stupidity.

“On that note, Riza… could we stop by your mother’s grave first?”

“O-of course, Aunt Chris. It’s… it’s in our backyard, so it’s on the way.” They continued the journey in a relatively peaceful quiet.

~x~

Roy was both awestruck and mortified by the weather-beaten mansion that stood before his eyes. It was big, isolated - unlike the cramped cluster of buildings he’d grown up surrounded by in Central - and reminded him a little of a haunted mansion. The bushy, unkempt backyard only served to reinforce his unease, but he wisely kept his mouth shut as they arrived before the lonely tombstone decorated with wilting carnations and peonies.

He’d only ever seen Victoria once, and so grief didn’t hit him as hard - if barely at all. But his heart certainly ached seeing the way devastation devoured his aunt and Riza; how it darkened their eyes with a gloomy, sullen grey like the clouds above them.

The sky rumbled faintly, and he felt the barest hint of a raindrop on his neck - once, twice - but he knew this was nothing compared to the weight pressing on their sunken shoulders.

Roy watched as his aunt closed her eyes wearily, inhaling the faint scent of sandalwood around them. Her eyes watered as she heaved, inexplicable grief consuming her. Quietly, he reached out to intertwine his stubby hands with her callused ones.

The girl, on the other hand, stood proudly with a somewhat impassive expression, but she was biting her lip - hard - to keep from crying out loud. Her bottom lip quivered, her body trembled, and Roy’s other hand intuitively went to rest on her shoulder in what he thought was a comforting gesture.

Except she flinched violently like he’d burnt her.

“Sorry,” they both apologised hurriedly at the same time. Immediately he retracted his hand and stepped away from her, wondering if he’d done something wrong.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, and Riza jumped. She tapped on Christmas’ shoulder lightly. “We should go inside before we get caught in the storm.” As soon as she said that rain began pelting down viciously, unwelcomingly, and so she ushered them into the kitchen through the back door.

“Father’s in his room, but I’m sure you’ll meet him tomorrow morning…” she whispered as she poured tea for them, the prospect of having to enter his temple only served to unsettle her already troubled frame of mind further.

“That’s quite alright, it’s already getting late,” Roy said as he rose to help her bring the cups over to the oaken dining table, taking extra care to avoid any kind of physical contact with her. Friendly, but not touchy… “Have you had dinner, by the way?”

Riza nodded shyly as she followed him back to the table, warming her fingers with her own cup of tea.

“Thank you, Riza,” Christmas hummed appreciatively at the soothing drink. “You’re probably sick of hearing apologies and condolences, so I’ll refrain from doing so...” Riza said nothing, only stared placidly at the table top as she fiddled with the hem of her plain black dress. “Although - how are you coping, child?”

“I’m… I’m fine, thank you,” she muttered quietly. The rain was beginning to subside into a light shower, but even then Roy found that it had the effect of almost drowning out her quiet voice.

“Are you sure?”

Riza nodded, keeping her eyes trained on her cup.

Christmas sighed wistfully at the awareness that she, like her mother, was a stubborn one who would neither budge nor talk readily about matters of the heart. She decided to let it slide. “Alright… if you need anything just…” she paused, unsure of herself - she wished there was more she could have done for the girl, but she had to return to Central soon. “Just call me, or let Roy know.”

Roy caught the meaningful look his aunt gave him and nodded imperceptibly. Though he wasn’t particularly fond of the girl he took his duty to be civil - friendly, even - to her very seriously, and growing up with a swarm of women around him had developed an almost innate desire in him to protect the opposite sex.

“O-okay. Thank you, Aunt Chris.”

“Not at all. Alright, I should probably get going.” The drizzle had stopped, and she’d finished her tea. “Thank you for picking us up and for the tea, Riza.” She reached over to pat Riza fondly on the head.

Riza blushed slightly before excusing herself to fetch an umbrella for the older woman.

“So soon, auntie?” Roy pouted. Please don’t leave me alone with this girl.

“Yeah, wouldn’t want to miss the last train.” Christmas pulled her nephew into a suffocating hug despite his muffled protests. “Take care, you silly boy. And take care of Riza, too.”

He nodded solemnly just as Riza returned with a blue umbrella. “Here you go, Aunt Chris, in case it starts raining again.”

“Thanks, Riza. You’re very sweet.”

Red mottled her cheeks with renewed vigour, and she ducked slightly to hide it. It’d only been a couple of weeks since her mother’s passing, but already Riza felt like an eternity had passed since she’d been privy to such open, unfettered affection.

Christmas bent down slightly to reach her eye level. “Take care, Riza. Don’t hesitate to contact me if my idiot nephew does anything stupid, or if he bothers you in any way.”

“Hey!” Roy sputtered indignantly. Riza couldn’t help but chuckle faintly at the offer, and nodded in acquiescence.

“Right. I’ll be making a move first, kids. See you all soon.” Riza led them to the front door with a small smile. She liked the woman - she was funny, and every sliver of roughness was accompanied by a niceness that showed itself to the observant.

“Bye,” they chorused.

The two children found themselves standing awkwardly beside each other after Christmas left.

To Roy’s surprise, it was Riza who broke the silence first. “I’ll… I’ll show you to your room.” She began walking wordlessly, placing a careful distance between them. Roy trailed behind her with his bag, a brief smile gracing his features as the recollection of doing the same in a quaint cake shop years ago came back to him.

Riza shuddered when they arrived at the room, the disconcerting memory of a dastardly apprentice hitting her like a pile of bricks. She swallowed, trying to convince herself that she could take out the weedy boy beside her if push came to shove. Or at the very least, punch him in the nose or complain to his aunt that he was being a nuisance.

“Are you alright?” Roy asked, for the second time that day.

“Yes. I’ll leave you to rest... Mr. Mustang.”

His nose wrinkled in disgust. That makes me sound like some kind of ancient... grandfather…

Before he could protest, though, Riza had already scurried away, leaving him alone with his unspoken objection.

Roy sighed as he entered the room - it was surprisingly neat and empty, cleaned to sparkling perfection - and dropped his bag on the creaking, wooden floor before flopping on the bed.

It had been a long day. Roy wanted nothing more to sleep, but the ceiling overhead suddenly seemed infinitely interesting - the only companion to the thoughts flooding his adolescent brain.

Already, he felt himself missing his aunt and his sisters. Growing up surrounded by noise and chatter meant that he was unaccustomed to such quiet solitude, but he had a nagging feeling that this was the very nature of the Hawkeye manor, if the girl’s personality was any indication. She was painfully reserved, and he wasn’t quite sure how he was going to break the ice, much less take care of her like his aunt had tasked him to. Any attempt at conversation had been nothing short of pathetic, and he highly doubted that anything beyond acquaintanceship was even possible.

Roy didn’t sleep well that night. Worry addled his poor mind, and though he’d tried to distract himself with alchemical theories the sun was already beginning to rise when he cracked his eyes open again.

#royai #royai fic #royai fanfic #a slow unravelling #me: hi I wrote a royai fic #also me: no royai for two chapters #but I finally reunited them!!#much to Riza's displeasure #roy mustang #riza hawkeye #madame christmas #victoria grumman

10 notes · View notes

kyndaris · 4 years ago

Text

Suddenly Thirteen

When I was younger, one of my favourite films starred Jennifer Garner acting like a teenager who was pretending to be thirty. In high school, all I wanted to do was grow out of the phase of terrible acne and finally be able to get my driver’s licence. I had a thousand dreams. Each one more fantastic than the next. One day I would want to be an actuary, a researcher or an astronaut.

Fast forward a decade and a half, and I was still single, stuck in a job that I hate with a passion with no long-term career prospects as well as up to my eyeballs in debt. When had my life gone off the rails? Where had all the hopes and dreams flitted away to?

I glanced at the time down in the bottom right of the screen. It was two in the morning on a worknight and the only thing I could bring myself to do was scroll through Facebook, bitter and miserable. A glass of shiraz rested on my bedside table. It probably wasn’t a good idea but I needed some comfort after my explosive break-up with the man I had been dating for the last three months.

So, of course it seemed the perfect time to trawl through all the positivity that I could never have. A photo of a mouth-watering dinner from an acquaintance in the grade below me. Another Dungeons and Dragons post from old primary school friends that I had drifted away from over the years because life had felt it necessary to get in the way.

I was full of regrets and I had just barely hit thirty. A deadlier combination I knew not as I morosely pondered what could have been.

It was roughly two thirty in the morning before I closed my laptop and settled into bed. I knew it was a bad idea. Going to bed drunk and at so late an hour. Work would be hell when I woke up. The hangover would only serve to dampen whatever enthusiasm I had that it was a Friday. Maybe, though, I would be able to get away with calling in sick.

There was always a first time for everything.

My eyes had barely closed when my alarm sounded – loud and incessant – in my ear. Telling me that I needed to get out of bed if I wanted to arrive at work on time. Groggily, I reached for my phone on my bedside table, hoping to hit snooze. It wasn’t there. Frowning, I sat up and looked around my room.

Was it me or did it seem smaller? And had my bed been moved to the side?

Before I could make sense of what was happening, my door slammed open. Standing in the frame was a man that I had not seen for many years.

“Come on, Sharon, let’s get a decent breakfast in you. Don’t want to be late and starving for your first day at high school.”

This couldn’t be. I had to still be dreaming. Or perhaps my drink had been spiked. I pinched myself. Hard.

Pain lanced up my arm and I knew that this was no fever dream. Oh God. What was happening?

Sensing something was wrong, dad approached me. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

“This isn’t right,” I blurted. “Am I still dreaming?”

Dad frowned at my response and crouched down next to me. “I know high school can be frightening. You’re going somewhere new. But it’s also exciting. Think of all the friends you’ll make and the things you’ll learn! Now, I’ll see to the waffles. Don’t want them to burn. Come out when you’ve changed, all right, sweetie?”

I sat in silence for several minutes, trying to wrap my head around everything. Dad was here. And alive. A sharp stab of longing pierced my chest. Even if I was still asleep and dreaming, I didn’t want to waste the opportunity of seeing him again.

Hastily, I climbed out of bed and padded over to the wardrobe. My old uniform sat neatly folded on the dresser. Within a minute, I had zipped up the skirt and buttoned up the crisp white shirt.

It was time to brush my teeth, wash my face and go down for breakfast.

Catching my reflection in the bathroom mirror, it took a few heartbeats for me to understand that I had been blasted back to when I was thirteen. No longer was my hair platinum blonde. Instead, it was the original muddy brown of my youth. My teeth were in disarray and my face was covered in freckles.

I shuddered at the thought of going through puberty again.

This wasn’t a dream. It was a nightmare.

Dad called my name again as I was just finishing up my ablutions. After taking one last look at my younger self in the mirror, I dashed down the stairs.

“Well, isn’t someone a little more chipper now?”

I didn’t say a word as I plonked down at the breakfast table. Dad was true to his word. Waffles, drizzled in maple syrup, sat before me. All of it seemed so surreal. I grabbed up fork and knife and began to eat in earnest, savouring each bite, even as I told myself that none of this was real. It couldn’t be.

Within minutes, I was finished. By 7.30, my bag was packed and I was in the car, waiting to be driven to the nearest bus stop.

A part of me was nervous as we drove down the familiar streets of my childhood. It had been years since I moved and I had never looked back. Yet, sitting in the car with my dad, I was reminded of all the wonderful moments I had shared.

Before I knew it, we arrived at the station. Dad came with me, looking as proud as ever, as we both waited for the bus. There were other children as well. Many that I recognised. To my right was Blake Johnson, short and skinny. In a few years, he would go through a growth spurt that would have him towering over even the teachers.

Seated on the bench, with her mum, was Floris Yu. She had on a thick pair of glasses and she had her hair tied up in twin pigtails. It was hard to believe that by the time we were all in university, she would have slept with half the boys in the grade.

It was nearly eight when the school bus finally pulled up.

“God, sometimes I wonder where the years went. You’re a big girl now, Sharon. Have a good day at school. Mum will be here to pick you up. But you’ll have to tell me everything that happens on your first day, all right?” Dad said as I was just about to board, tears in his eyes.

I hugged him tight, relishing his warmth. “Be careful on the roads, dad.”

“I will, sweetie. Now, go on.”

Taking an empty seat near the back of the bus, I pressed myself up against the window and waved desperately at him. Dad smiled and waved back. As the bus began to move and turn around the corner, dad stood there, as if imprinting this moment in his memory.

The first day passed by in a blur. I met my teachers as well as my future friends. Despite the fact that Olivia was now back to her awkward twelve-year old self, we clicked just as easily as the first time. Danielle was as chatty as I remembered her. Oliver, on the other hand, seemed lost and a little preoccupied. I wasn’t sure what was bothering him. Had never really paid it much attention because by the time we became fast friends in Year 9, he had got over that bump in his life.

Mum greeted me when I got off the bus. Before I could do or say anything, she grabbed hold of my schoolbag and slung it over one shoulder. “So, how was your first day? Make a lot of new friends?”

Smiling, I answered her. We talked until we reached the car and then we talked even as mum drove us back home.

I was still regaling mum with tales of my adventures as we walked through the front door and the phone in the kitchen rang. Mum went to pick it up. Her face went through an entire gamut of emotions. A feeling of dread welled up through me. Oh God, how could I have forgotten?

Gingerly, mum placed the phone back down. As if frightened it was going to turn around and bite her. She looked at me, eyes wide and her face as pale as death.

“What’s wrong?” I asked even as I cursed myself for being a fool. Caught up in living the fantasy that I found myself in, I had wiped away all traces of Patrick and his failing health.

“We need to go to the hospital.”

Without even changing out of my uniform, I clambered into the driver’s seat, adjusting it for my considerably shorter legs. Mum stared at me, lost for words when I asked for the keys. How could she just stand there when Patrick was on life support and awaiting the final decision to euthanise him?

“Come on. We need to go, mum. Now. I’m the better driver. Just throw on Google Maps on your phone and direct me.”

“Sharon, you’re thirteen. And what’s Google Maps?”

Cursing under my breath, I realised my error. It was supposed to be a dream, but it was damn near too realistic for my liking. “Forget it mum. I’m sorry,” I said as I climbed into the passenger’s seat. “Let’s just get going. Patrick needs us.”

Mum nodded mutely and got in the car. She turned on the ignition and effortlessly put the car into gear. I knew she had questions. But she had the wisdom to set them aside and concentrate on more immediate needs.

Within ten minutes, we turned into the driveway of the veterinary hospital. I hopped out of the car as soon as we came to a stop, unbuckling the seatbelt and flinging open the door. Mum shouted after me but I ignored her as I raced to the open doors where dad was standing.

“How’s Patrick doing?” I asked.

Dad shook his head. “He’s having trouble breathing. Doc says he’s on his last legs. We’d better hurry in.”

I pushed past him. My feet took me down the familiar corridors until I reached the operating room. Looking through the circular window, I spotted Leanne. She was easily recognisable. Despite the gown she wore, I could identify her blonde streaks that had been tied into a neat bun.

Lying still on the table was Patrick. He was my first dog. A golden retriever that had been my protector and friend for as long as I could remember.

Was he already gone? But then, his chest rose. Within seconds I was by his side, holding his face in my hands. Perhaps he sensed me there for his tongue came out to give me an affectionate lick.

“You’re going to be fine, Patrick.” I didn’t know if I was saying this to him or merely to console myself after witnessing the same event twice. It wasn’t fair.

A hand came to rest on my shoulder. It gave me a comforting squeeze. “I’m so sorry, Sharon.” Dad. It had to be.

I gently patted Patrick’s muzzle and gave him one last forlorn look before I sought the shelter of dad’s embrace.

“Why did it have to be him?” I said into his chest as we were gently ushered out. A part of me resented the fact that I couldn’t be there when Patrick took his last breath. Only Leanne bearing witness to his last moments. But she was the vet. And it was her job to see it through.

We arrived home, sad and despondent. The last few hours had stained the days in hues of grey. Dinner was a quiet affair. I went to bed early, unable to shake off the loss I felt, though I should have remembered it all having experienced it before. Somewhere over the years, the pain had healed. Now, the wound had torn open again.

If mum had allowed me, I would have preferred going to sleep with a glass of rum. Unfortunately, my mum had always been a stickler for rules and in this dream of mine, I was underage.

Oblivion was difficult to find. After tossing for what felt like hours, I fell into a fitful slumber – unsure of what the next day would bring and hoping that I would wake up in my proper time, where things made sense and the pain that felt so raw now was only a distant memory.

But when I blearily opened my eyes, I found myself again in my old childhood bedroom. Instead of tastefully selected paintings, there were a myriad of posters. Most of them featuring Disney Princesses. A part of me wanted to scream. The more adult part felt deflated – resigned to the fact that I was trapped in the wrong time period and forced to relive my teenage years.

I wasn’t sure why that was the case. More than likely, it was some cosmic joke.

Dad came in with a tray topped up with breakfast around seven. “I know yesterday was difficult, Sharon. It was hard for me as well. Patrick was with us for so long. But you need to eat. And when you’re finished, let’s have a talk. I can call up the school. Get you the rest of the week off.”

His offer was tempting. And in my previous past, I had taken him up on the offer. But this was supposed to be a dream. Or, at least, I believed it was. Curiosity got the better of me. I wanted to see where such a choice would lead me as I already knew the alternative: bound to the bed for six days and moping around the house. It had meant playing catch-up when everyone else had picked the friendships that would last for more than a decade.

It was with great effort that I pulled myself from the warmth and comfort of my covers and slipped once again into my school uniform. Though I had experienced the death of Patrick before, the pain of his loss was still as visceral as ever.

Dad understood that when I gave him my bravest smile and said, “I can do this. Patrick wouldn’t have wanted me to be crying my eyes out all day anyways. Just because I’m at school doesn’t mean I won’t miss him.”

“That’s the spirit.”

It was a near thing, but I managed to scoff down breakfast, get dressed, pack my bag and arrive at the station just as the school bus trundled up. I got on, determined to have a good day at school. Even though I might have appeared as if I was just thirteen, I knew that in my head I was a grown woman that had already gone through a whole host of experiences.

With time, I knew, that the pain of losing Patrick all over again would dull. It was simply a matter of putting on a strong façade for the rest of the day.

The second day of school went by as quickly as the first. Before I knew it, the final bell had rung and I was on the bus back home. For a short while, as I was relearning the names of my teachers, I could forget that I was trapped in a different time and that my loyal dog that I had known all my life had passed away the day before.

Never before had I thought high school as a place to forget my woes. My memories of the teenage years had been filled with confusion and angst and worries about the changes my body was going through. Coupled with the pressure to perform and the mountain of homework that I always left to the last minute, it seemed like a miracle when I finally graduated.

Yet, here I was, putting aside the grief and pain as I socialised with the teenager versions of some of my oldest friends. It was striking how far we had come. From precocious students who dreamed of the world to weary adults, caught in the grind of the corporate machine even as we hid our misery by posting edited photos on Instagram and Facebook.

When I walked home from the bus stop later in the afternoon, I felt better than I would have thought given the recent death of Patrick. Rather than desiring to curl up into a foetal ball, I was filled with the determination to change my future.

It was to these thoughts that I fell asleep, after having completed my homework. For close to an hour, I had tried to figure out the maths equations that had never had any bearing in my position as a slave to capitalism.

Rays of sunlight peeked through my window when I jolted out of bed. I glanced towards the alarm clock, hoping to glean the time, but it was missing. Instead, an iPhone sat in its place and it was ringing shrilly. I picked it up. The time read 7:30AM.

Still muddled by sleep, I had just shimmied out of my pyjamas when I realised that things were not quite right. Back in high school, I didn’t have a smart phone. It would still be another year or so before Steve Jobs would announce his creation to the world at the Macworld convention. And it wasn’t until my first year at university that I had acquired my first Samsung S2. Purchased, of course, with my own money earned from a part-time job.

Nor had dad come in to check if something was wrong.

Looking at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, I confirmed my suspicions. Thirty-year old Sharon stared back at me. Hair, dyed blonde at the tips with dark roots threatening to undo all my good work. I was back in my time. The strange dream that had held me hostage had ended.

A part of me felt bereft. The halcyon days of my youth were gone. A second time.

I let out a frustrated breath and checked the time and date on my smart phone again. Now was not the time of reminiscing over what could have been. I had an hour to shower, get dressed and head to work. Another day in the cubicle, earning the money I needed to survive in a cold and unfeeling world.

God. I needed a coffee. And I needed it yesterday.

The day passed as slowly as a snail. By eleven, I was jittery, wishing for the day to end. My earlier musings of what to have to lunch replaced by the monotonous repetition of office busywork. Jenny, one of my work colleagues, seemed to sense my mercurial mood.

“What’s up, Sharon? You don’t seem to be blazing through your cases as quickly as you usually do after your banana bread and skim latte combo.”

“Just got a lot of things on my mind, Jenny.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” I said as I opened up another spreadsheet that reduced a person’s life into a series of indecipherable numbers.

She took the hint and kept quiet until lunch time finally rolled around. And before she could invite me out for a walk and offer to shout me some sushi from the restaurant down the street, I was already out of my seat, headed for the elevators. Luck smiled upon me and I managed to get into one of the death traps on my lonesome. But despite the myriad of choices for lunch along the street where my work was situated, I didn’t feel hungry. Instead, I simply let my feet lead me through the labyrinth of streets in the bustling central business district of the city – searching for something I could not quite name.

I returned, five minutes after the prescribed end of lunch. Jenny looked up from her desk, eyebrows arched into a question that I purposely ignored.

As soon as the time on the bottom right of the computer screen hit 5PM, my bag was packed and I was in the first available lift.

Within thirty minutes, I walked through my front door. The keys went to their usual tray, my bag landed precariously on the dining room table and I plonked myself on the sofa. Hunger had my stomach growling but I could not bring myself to start preparing dinner. Exhaustion tugged at every limb, despite the fact that I had done little in physical exertion. It was easier to just let the lid of my eyes close and allow my mind to drift.

When next I woke, morning light was shining through the blinds. Groaning, I sat up and stretched – trying to rid myself of the kinks. Having missed lunch and dinner the day before, I was starving. Still half-asleep, I went to my bag to fetch my phone and take a gander at the time.

But no matter my efforts, the screen remained black. Shit. After what felt like ten minutes, I managed to find my charger. At the very least, today was a Saturday and I had no plans beyond a property inspection. If I was lucky, I could squeeze in some time to finish the detailing on my next costume for the convention next month.

The day went quickly, even though I lounged around the apartment for most of the day. A quick jaunt onto Facebook only helped further my apathy as I scrolled through posts filled with fun and laughter. In my head, I knew that many of the pictures I saw were curated. Did I not do the same when I tried out a new café? The image of who I was on the internet was never quite the perfect representation of who I was in reality.

By 8 in the evening, I was ready to slink back into bed. Just as I was about to shut my laptop, Facebook Messenger popped up with an alert. Curiosity won out and I clicked it open without first glancing at the name.

Hey! How’s it going? I know it’s been a few years, but damn, how’s life treating you?

My gaze drifted to the profile picture in the upper left corner and the name emblazoned in bold white letters. Simon Lau. After we had gone to different universities, studying distinctly different degrees – he had studied medicine, whereas I had wasted most of my loan on a diploma in business – it came as a bit of a shock.

Hi Simon. Life’s been good for the most part. What about you? From the pictures and posts I’ve seen it seems as if you’ve been keeping busy.

Yeah. It’s been hectic. Finally managed to get tenure at my local hospital. Being a doctor isn’t easy. The hours are long and the pay is pretty lousy.

Well, I do believe congratulations are in order. Becoming a doctor is no small feat.

What about you?

I stared at the words, wondering how much of my life to reveal. When I compared myself to the achievements of many of my other friends, it felt like I had done little. An anime and boardgame fanatic with a flair for the dramatic.

I’ve hardly achieved anything of note.

That can’t be true. The Sharon I knew in school was a powerhouse. Sure, you might not have gotten the best grades, but I’m sure that you would have achieved anything you set your mind to. In fact, I’m kind of envious of the cosplay photos you’ve been putting up.

A smile broke across my lips. I had missed the conversations I used to have with Simon. We had met in fifth grade, as part of a gifted and talented initiative held by our school. From the moment he had shyly introduced himself one recess early in Term 2, we became inseparable as we poured over our love for Neopets and Little Figher 2.

Somehow, we chatted until midnight as we reminisced over the old days. Before I logged off for some much-needed rest, we exchanged mobile numbers and set up a meeting point for the convention that would be in town for the long weekend.

I fell asleep, grinning from ear to ear.

Within moments, I was rudely awoken by my alarm clock. With a groan, I sat up in bed and reached one hand to shut it down. As I yawned and blearily looked around my room, I was shocked to find myself once again in my old childhood home. I was back in the past again, reliving my time during high school.

For months, I lived two lives. One in the past, and one in my current time. Just like the first time I had ventured into my high school days, I was able to change small elements and make better decisions. When Floris came to me, dishevelled and shaking from an encounter she did not want to talk about, I was able to offer her a shoulder to cry on rather than be consumed by my own selfish problems.

It made me understand her a little more and see why her path so swiftly diverged from mine back in Year 8. In my present, there were also slight differences. As if somehow my actions were like the beating of a butterfly’s wings. Or perhaps I was simply seeing through different eyes. After all, having the ability to go back in time and make changes for the better seemed farfetched and I still wasn’t entirely convinced that I was having incredibly lucid dreams.

But what mattered during the second chance I was given were the moments I spent with dad, as well as being able to see my classmates in a different light.

All of that changed, however, as I was wrapping up work and my phone buzzed. I was back in the present again, after enjoying two weeks of school holidays where I had messaged Simon almost every single day. Frowning, I glanced down at the caller id that was flashing on my screen. It read ‘Beau.’ For a moment, I was confused. Only a few days ago, I had been scrolling through Tindr as the sole occupant of my apartment. My rooms had been a mess. Every spare surface covered in various pieces of fabric in a desperate bid to complete my costume before the upcoming event.

After all, I was going as my favourite character from a popular video game franchise.

Curiosity won the best of me. I accepted the call and was surprised by the voice I heard on the other end.

“Good evening, milady. Did you have a good day in the office?” asked Simon Lau. “I’ll be home around six and can come over to help for the last stretch. That okay with you?”

I was at a loss for words. Was Simon my boyfriend? It didn’t seem quite real. Yet, as I searched through my memories, new ones overlaid the old. After dancing around each other all throughout high school, we officially entered into a relationship during first year of uni. And though we had the occasional fight here and there, there had only been one instance when I had seriously considered of breaking up with him.

Simon was my second half. He knew me inside and out. Just as I did him.

“—Earth to Sharon. Are you still there?”

A smile slowly curled the tips of my lips upward. “Sorry. Just remembering how lucky I’ve been to have you by my side.”

“Of course. I wake up every day grateful I can see a handsome doctor with impeccable musculature in the mirror each day.”

“Narcissist.”

He chuckled. “Hey, you’re the one that brought it up in the first place.”

“I only said that I love having you by my side. Looking back, it almost seems predetermined,” I said. A giddy moment passed before a faint memory flitted across my mind that left me feeling hollowed out. “Sometimes I wonder what might have happened if things had gone differently. The thought chills me to the core.”

“There’s nothing to fear, Sharon. I’ll be back over before you know it. Just wrapping up the last of my shift,” said Simon, seemingly to sense my doubts and wanting to allay them. He was wasted as a doctor in the local hospital. But it was his passion to help and render assistance to those that needed it the most. And who was I to stand in the way of his desire when it was the thing that drew me to him? “Can you hold on until then?”

“Yes. I’ll see you soon.”

“Love you.”

With that, I ended the call – my heart lightened. God. What was wrong with me? Wondering what life would have been like if Simon wasn’t with me? The mere idea was inconceivable.

I stared at my phone, and the nickname I had given Simon, for several minutes before I pocketed it away. Dinner. And then, when he came, I could resume the work on our cosplay outfits for the event the week after next.

The dreams continued, though they mostly played out like memories of a time that sat parallel to what I knew to be true. Yet, they seemed so real. Back in my high school days, I lived a different life to the one I knew. Simon, for one, despite my best efforts, seemed to drift away from me. We had different circles of friends and pursued individual interests. The childhood connection we had was not strong enough to keep us linked.

Each morning I would wake up, covered in sweat, and glance to the spot next to mine in bed. On the days he stayed over, he was a warm presence by my side and my fears were allayed. For the nights that he had a particularly late shift, I had to wrangle my anxiety into submission with relief only brought upon by hearing Simon’s voice.

It was a dangerous line I walked.

And it felt like I was losing my mind. The mismatch of memories weighed heavily on my mind as I went through the motions of work and putting the finishing touches to both my and Simon’s costumes for the convention that was the coming weekend. After all, we were going as a pair from an animated show, though I had the feeling I had initially wanted it to be from my favourite video game.

Alas, the work would have been too great. At least for Simon’s outfit, as I had no access to a furnace if I wanted to ensure complete and utter accuracy. Foam was great and all, but nothing could beat a proper metal chain.

We finished the costumes just a day shy of the big event. To my great joy, as we tried them on, to learn that they fitted as well as a glove – although mine was a little tight around the chest. Simon, on the other land, looked impeccable. Once he had the wig on, he would be nigh on indistinguishable from the character he was cosplaying as.

I, on the other hand, was a little too short to be a perfect representation of my character. It didn’t matter though. What was important was that we were matched in perfect synchronicity and that others knew that we were together.

“Looking good. I could almost mistake you for an elf,” said Simon.

“The ears will go on tomorrow. I don’t want to risk damaging them.” Slowly and carefully, I tugged off my boots. “What about you? Ready for the big day?”

“You know it,” he said with a grin. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need the bathroom. And while these trousers are sublime, it’s going to take me a while to wiggle out of them.”

As soon as he disappeared down the hallway, the phone that he left on the coffee table lit up. I knew it was rude to take a look. Yet I feared that Simon would be called away for another shift at the hospital. So, risking a glance towards the bathroom, I picked up his phone and read the text message.

The words within immediately pierced my heart, shattering it into a thousand pieces. I tried my hardest to rationalise it all away. Surely, it was a joke. Or perhaps it had been sent to the wrong person.

But a second look only confirmed my worst fears. Why, on God’s green Earth, did it have to be Amy Fletcher?

Looking through the memories that weren’t my own, I knew she had been Simon’s girlfriend ever since Year 12 prom. During first year of university, they had broken up over something that most would have considered silly or stupid. At least, that was the rumour I’d heard on the grapevine as I focused on my own achievements. They had got back together in third year and everywhere they went, people said that they were inseparable. The perfect couple.

Yet, in my timeline, none of that happened. Simon was my boyfriend. Had been since high school. So, why the Hell was he receiving texts from Amy? And ones that seemed to border on what decent people might label licentious?

“What is this?” I demanded when Simon came back from his trip to the bathroom.

He looked at me, confused. “My phone?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Simon,” I snapped at him, fuelled by righteous anger. “Why is Amy fucking Fletcher sending you texts?”

“We bumped into each other last Friday. One thing led to another and we had coffee. Then, I don’t know, we exchanged numbers,” said Simon, his tone defensive. “Nothing came of it. It was just an innocent and casual catch-up.”

I didn’t believe him. How could I? The evidence was right there. In my hand. “Then why is she asking for pics, Simon?”

He stepped up to face me, his face red as a tomato. Before I could react, he snatched his phone from my grasp and looked at the screen. A minute passed. Maybe two. All I heard in the deafening silence was the sound of my heart beating an erratic tattoo.

Then finally a giggle. A bit of a chuckle and before I knew it, Simon had thrown his head back as he laughed and laughed and laughed.

To say that I was shocked would have been an understatement. Here I was, with evidence of his infidelity, and all Simon did was find amusement at my own expense. It was enough for me to see red. Desperately, I tried to swipe his phone back. But he was taller. His arms much longer.

He dangled his phone just out of reach, as if it was all a game. Each time I jumped Simon would duck under my grasp. And when I shouted obscenities, he ignored them with an easy smile.

It was only when I had tears trailing down my cheeks, threatening to walk out and throw the costumes I had laboured over for countless hours into the nearest dumpster, that he finally stopped. The expression on his face now serious and concerned. “Oh, come on Sharon. Can’t you see? She was asking for our cosplay photos. Just innocent and harmless fun. Stop acting like a baby. You’re better than this.”

“Why? Amy has never cared for the ‘geeky’ stuff. In ninth grade, she said anime was for little kids or people that hadn’t grown up.”

“Give her a bit of credit, Sharon. Not everyone has to be into pop culture. Sure, they can watch a couple of shows on Netflix, but you shouldn’t deride them for liking things like The Christmas Prince instead of Die Hard.”

I knew he was right. It was Simon, after all. But I didn’t like it. I fell into a sullen silence. Intractable to any of his overtures for peace.

“Goddammit, Sharon. Don’t just shut me out,” he said as he changed into his shorts and a ratty old t-shirt he used as bedwear. I was already under the covers, after having spent a good forty minutes in the shower. He tried to cuddle, but I was having none of it. With a sigh, Simon turned away. I knew I was being spiteful, but I couldn’t help it. The rage was still there and it would not be appeased.

It was as if it had taken on a life of its own. One that screamed vengeance at the wrong that Amy fucking Fletcher had done to me by texting my boyfriend.

Even when the lights turned off, I lay in bed, brain in overdrive as I pondered my next steps. Amy Fletcher would not get away with this.

The next day dawned. Though I had not slept, I was still buzzing with nervous energy. Jittery, almost, in anticipation of what was to come. Simon kept mostly busy with convention preparations, pausing every so often to look at his phone. He didn’t notice. Not when he saw the texts Amy sent his way. I wanted to wipe that giddy-looking smile off his face. How could he do this to me? I was his girlfriend. Not Amy.

Even as I seethed, I was reassured by the plan that had come to me overnight. The old memories – of another time – had provided the answer I sought: Amy Fletcher’s address. It wasn’t far. It was only a ten to twenty-minute drive away. Given the traffic, it was plenty of time to get there, do what I needed and return before we set out to the convention.

Just to ease the burgeoning anxiety within me, in case things should go horribly wrong, I had slipped out of bed at three and Googled the address in my head. The Street View of the house matched several photos on her Instagram and Facebook. If I was wrong, I would simply play it off as mistaken identity.

I couldn’t say it was a good plan. But it was the only one that I could come up with that would satisfy the raging beast inside me.

“Where are you going?” Simon asked when I headed to the door at a few minutes past seven.

“Hardware store,” I replied. “Picking up a few more things that I forgot. It’s for the costume.” And then, I made the error that would cost me nearly everything. “You know, glue gun refills. Just in case something falls off.”

Perhaps if I had stayed longer, I would have seen the consternation on Simon’s face. Focused solely on the goal that I had set for myself, I hurried to the car. In my bag, I had my phone, keys, wallet and a sharp knife that I filched from the kitchen.

Traffic was light and I arrived at Amy Fletcher’s house with time to spare. For several long minutes, I sat in the car. My mind was a cacophony of noise. A part of me wanted to abandon the crazy idea that had seized me. The other, louder part, wanted to push on. It was unable to rest easy knowing that there was a threat to the perfect image of Simon and I.

When my hands had steadied, I opened the car door and walked to the white front door on stiff legs. Just to the side, hidden in a small alcove, was the doorbell. I pressed it.

Every second that slipped by felt like an hour. Until the door opened and standing before me was Amy Fletcher, her long brown hair, with blond highlights, was tussled and she was dressed in pyjamas covered in cartoon rabbits.

“Hi. You’re Sharon, right? Simon talked a lot about you when we caught up the other day. He said that you were going to a convention today. What brings you here?”

“Well, I heard you lived close by and I was in the neighbourhood,” I said, ducking underneath her arm as I forced my way inside. “This place is lovely. Did it cost a lot? God, I’m kind of envious, y’know. Simon and I, well, we haven’t been able to afford a house yet.”

“Hold on. Stop.” Amy Fletcher called out after me as I took a look at her two-bedroom house, situated in a quiet and idyllic suburb. “You can’t just come barging in. I know that we used to go to high school together, but it’s still very early in the morning.”

She caught up with me as I arrived in the kitchen, puffing a little. Her hand landed on my shoulder: a warning and a threat. It was enough.

I whirled around, one hand digging deep in my purse until my fingers had curled around the handle of my sharpest kitchen knife, and then I plunged the blade into her chest. Thirty fucking times.

Her screams were delicious as blood spurted. The beast, lurking with me, was appeased at the sight. As Amy Fletcher lay on the ground, her heart pumping out the last few litres of blood, a feral grin stretched across my face. I had done it. Simon was mine.

As I headed to the sink to wash up, I heard the first faint sirens. I dismissed it at first, until my phone rang.

Beau.

I picked up. What else could I do? Simon was my one and only. I didn’t know who had ratted me out, but I knew that I had to tell Simon. He would understand. He would be there for me.

“What have you done, Sharon?” were his first words to me. “I called the cops as soon as I noticed the missing knife. Tell me you haven’t done anything to harm Amy.”

Red. All I saw was red at his words.

“I’ve removed her from the equation,” I said with murderous glee, hoping to wound him with my words. How dare he accuse me when I was trying to salvage our relationship? If I hadn’t acted, Amy Fletcher would have inserted herself into our everyday and ruined our lives. “Don’t you understand, Simon? She was a fucking homewrecker. I did you a favour. I did the fucking world a favour.”

“You’re mad.”

Me? Mad? Simon thought I was crazy?

I laughed at the insinuation. Simon knew nothing of my madness. Of what I would do just to keep the world mine. The lengths I would go…

But as I looked at the dead body before me, the reality of my situation came crashing down on me. I know I shouldn’t have found it funny, but I could not stop. One I had started, all I could see was my future slipping away because of the mess I made. Tears pricked at the corner of my eyes. Why had I let all my fears and anxieties take control? Amy Fletcher, despite all her faults, did not deserve what I did to her.

The police found me in the kitchen, murder weapon in my right hand and my phone in the left.

As they dragged me out, handcuffed, I continued to laugh. Even as the world faded to laugh, all I could hear were my high-pitched cackles of depravity…

With a groan, I woke up, and blearily blinked at my surroundings. It took me a moment to recognise that I was still seated at the kitchen table, my face pressed against the keys of my laptop. Beside me, was an empty glass of red wine. As for the bottle itself, it had rolled to a stop on the counter-top and seemed ready to plunge over the side. Luckily, I had corked it or else I would be cleaning up the stains for a few weekends.

Shit. Stiffly, I got out of my seat to rescue the still half-full bottle. As I picked it up, I managed to catch a glimpse of the label.

Devil’s Touch: Let your inner desires come alive

I scoffed. Yeah right. More like my bloody nightmares. Running a hand over my face, I wondered if anything had been real or if it had just been an overactive imagination fuelled by the alcohol I had ingested. Probably the latter, I decided as I placed the bottle into the fridge.

Glancing quickly at the time, 3:50AM, I packed up my laptop and headed to my bedroom.

Just as I was about to grab another two or three hours of oblivion, I was startled back into full awareness when I heard a sharp rap on my apartment door. There was no mistaking the sound, however hard I wanted to try. I looked at my phone. It had ticked to 4 in the morning.

Grousing, I slipped into my robe and padded on sock-covered feet to see who had come calling in the early hours of the morning. Whoever it was, they had better have a good explanation for disturbing the rest of my pitiful night, I thought, as I opened the door.

#short story #suddenly thirteen #nostalgia is a strong tool

1 note · View note

carriagelamp · 4 years ago

Photo

So, one of my favourite media genres is “child horror”, especially around Halloween. It’s horror adjacent, it can still be chilling or exciting in its own right, but there’s a layer of autumnal coziness and safety to it. Like trick or treating, but in a book form. You go out in the dark when it feels a little spookier, but you know everyone is in soft costumes and you’re gonna be eating a lot of candy. So I like trying to read child horror during October, to get hyped up for Halloween.

C’est à Moi: Alerte dans l’espace

This is a choose-your-own-adventure story. There’s an English version as well, Space Rescue, but I read this one with a group of kids in French. Honestly, doing a crowd-sourced choose-your-own-adventure with a bunch of kids is one of the funniest experiences, and reading this was a blast. We died horribly in a perfectly preventable way, as should be the case with all good choose-your-own-adventures — we never even got a chance to meet the space aliens! Would recommend for kids (or immature adults who enjoy choose-your-own-adventures) who enjoy scifi and action. It was short and simple, but fun.

Doll Bones

This was a novel I was actually really looking forward to reading this October and it lived up to my excitement, it was probably my favourite new-read this month. It’s a middle grade novel about a group of three kids who have been friends for ever and who have been playing a game together almost as long. It would have been challenging enough for them to confront the challenges of growing up and the judgment of others about them still playing with toys, but things come to a head when, one night, Poppy tells the other two that she’s being haunted by the creepy porcelain doll locked in her mom’s china cabinet, the one in their games that they’ve always called The Queen. Poppy insists that they need to run away, in the middle of the night, to find The Queen’s grave and bury the bone china her soul is trapped in. Meanwhile, Zach and Alice are trying to navigate their changing friendship, and the question of whether the ghost is real, or if this is Poppy trying to rope them into one final game.

Serious, this was a beautifully written story, especially as an adult reader. Reading about Poppy, Alice, and Zach at 12 trying to figure out whether or not they’re too old to keep playing games feels a lot like what I went through around that age as well, it’s very nostalgic and heart warming with just enough promise of the supernatural to keep things exciting as they go out on their quest.

Eerie Elementary: The School Is Alive!

This is one of the Scholastic Branches chapter books. These are great for beginning readers, as they have exciting stories, accessible vocabulary, and big, dramatic art that’s a pleasure to look at. This story is about a boy who is made hall monitor at his school… a position that has more weight than he would guessed. Their creepy old school is more than meets the eye and it has begun to wake… and the students need protecting. It’s the hall monitor’s job to fight back against a blood thirsty building. Lots of fun for kids around grade two.

Five Funny Frights

This was a “horror” book I loved as a kid, and it still has some amusing little stories in it. Who doesn’t still secretly enjoy the “pink jelly bean” story?

Five Nights At Freddy’s: The Fourth Closet

This is the final book in the Silver Eyes trilogy, I’m not quite done it yet by the time of writing this review but I should be by the end of the month. I started this series more as a joke with my brother, but I’ve actually been enjoying it. The Silver Eyes was definitely the most interesting book of the series, but The Twisted Ones managed to keep me going, and now that I’m on the third book I’m feeling intrigued again. It has some interesting characterization, not afraid to make characters that deal with trauma in some messy, angry, emotional ways which is an unexpected treat in a middle grade horror novel, not to mention so real messy murders, and the series did a good job at laying out foreshadowing — some of my predictions are coming to fruition and I feel very satisfied about it. Is it the best book I’ve ever read? No, not really, but if you enjoyed the concept behind Five Night’s At Freddy’s then it’s an interesting read and worth giving a go.

Scary Stories 3: More Tales To Chill Your Bones

Another classic from my childhood that I reread. Honestly, there were a couple stories in here that I enjoyed… “Harold” is a classic, of course, and some of their humorous ones at the end were fun, like “THUPPP”. But honestly, the first one is probably the strongest of the series.

Sheets

A graphic novel that I stumbled across and decided to try out. It was… alright. It was good, it was fine. I was glad to have borrowed it from the library, but I wouldn’t want to buy it. It was an interesting enough story about a girl who, in the wake of her mother’s death and father’s depression, is forced to keep their family’s laundromat afloat. It’s also about ghosts who use sheets to give themselves a physical premise and who put great stock in keeping them tidy. The girl’s life becomes significantly more complicated when a miserable old businessman tries to sabotage the laundromat in order to buy the property out from under her and one runaway ghosts gets tangled up in the mix.

Skeleton Hiccups

This was a picture book I enjoyed a little bit more than I should have, probably. It’s just about a skeleton doing his best to get rid of his hiccups, despite how completely ineffective most of those attempts are when you don’t actually have skin or organs. Goofy nonsense, I loved it.

Warren the 13th and the 13-Year-Curse

Another trilogy-ender I read this month. I really enjoyed The All-Seeing Eye and The Whisper Woods, the first two books that I read last year, and The 13-Year Curse was an enjoyable wrap up to it… though honestly I would be very interested in more stories about Warren and his fantastic hotel. The series, simply, is about young Warren, the thirteen in a line of proud hotel owners, though as of book one the hotel has fallen into considerable disrepair that Warren is struggling to fix. The series follows Warren, along with his friends (two witch hunters, one tentacled monster, and an assortment of hotel staff and guests) as they discover the secrets of The Warren Hotel, confront terrifying witches, and fight against terrible curses. Though the real selling point for this series is the absolutely beautiful graphic design that went into the page layout — I would honestly buy these books just because they are so damn pretty to look at and have so many fascinating details. I highly recommend these to both kids who like interactive stories and mysteries, and to adults who want something whimsical and weird.

3 notes · View notes

lady-indiana · 5 years ago

Text

Practice Challenge {pt. 2}

Read PART 1

Part 2

An hour after I had heard the news, I was driving through the streets of downtown Lauderdale.

My hands were clutched tightly to the wheel as I turned into the library on the west side of town. This library, once surrounded by overgrown grass and falling apart at the edges, was now the nicest building on this side of town.

It had a parking lot, even though most of the people and children who used it didn’t own cars. It was made of bricks, some discolored from the repairs done in the past year.

On the pathway leading up, there were cute little signs with frogs and bunnies that said sayings like “reading is FUN!” and “Reading takes you on adventures!”

I parked the car, taking the keys out of the ignition and walked up the path to the door. In the entrance of the library, there was a little foyer with more posters and signs with positive sayings and quotes.

To the left, there was a pinboard displaying different activities and demonstrations they were holding. I walked down the hallway, heading into the main room, and looked around. I spun slowly, gazing up at the Illéa approved books that lined the shelves.

In the corner of the room, there was a line of new computers.

I thought back to my childhood when this little building was a refuge for all of the other homeless kids I ran around with. We were all in the lower castes, and this library was open to the public, specifically the lower castes. Now, there were almost triple the books they had back then. There also used to be only one old computer.

And when I finally took control of it over some kid was playing an online game that took forever, it was where I edited my first short film at the age of thirteen. The short film that changed my life.

I was spooked by a voice, “Oh! Indie!”

Meredith, the 70-year-old something woman who had been running the library as a volunteer for as long as I knew came out from her office. She was a sweet woman, who cared a lot about education and creativity and making the world a better place. I really liked Meredith.

“Hi Meredith,” I said, smiling in her direction.

“I can’t believe it! I really can’t believe it, Indie! You’re one of the Selected!”

I giggled, watching her get all excited.

“I know, I really can’t believe it either.”

I looked down, sudden feeling… embarrassed, overwhelmed, unworthy?

“Oh, sweetie, you will be great. The prince is going to love you! I just know it!”

I chuckled softly at her optimism.

“Just to think,” Meredith continued. “Almost ten years ago you were hanging out here, trying to run complex editing software on that old dinosaur of a computer, and now you are about to head off to the palace!”

I looked around at the place, smiling contently. “It is amazing, isn’t it?”

“You deserve it, sweetie.”

“Thanks,” I responded, though I wasn’t sure if I believed her. “I just wanted to come by, and ask if you and the library will be alright while I’m on gone. If there’s anything you need before I go, let me know, and I’ll make sure it gets done. I’m not sure how much communication I’ll have access to while I’m there.”

“Oh, honey, you’ve already done enough. Look at this place! Look at everything you’ve already done to make it better!” she said, gesturing around at the room.

“I just want to make sure,” I said, smiling kindly.

“Well, the only thing I can think of is that we’ll have to postpone the camera seminar that you were supposed to teach. That’s no problem though! I’d teach it myself, but you know I don’t know how to work technology to save my life.”

“Maybe I can see if I can get one of my friends from Angeles to fly in and teach it. I know a lot of the kids were looking forward to it.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’m sure you are going to be busy in the next few days.”

“It’s the least I can do.”

“Really, sweetie, I want you to focus on yourself. This is a big opportunity. If anyone could be our future princess, I’d want it to be you.”

I sighed, grabbing Meredith’s hands in thanks.

“Well, then,” I said. “If you do need anything… repairs, books, lunch for the kids... put in on my tab.”

Meredith smiled, pulling me in for a hug that I reciprocated. “We will be fine. Have a great time, kiddo.”

I smiled, stepping back and looking around the room again. Finally, I waved goodbye and headed back out to my car, so I could go home and get ready for my life to change. Again.

---

I arrived to the airport early. It was a habit, really. Engrained in me from day one on my film internship when I was younger: Being early is being on time. And being on time shows that you care.

The plane was much like one I had flown in several times. Private planes were always rented out by the studios when we had to travel cross country for a shoot, so it was nothing new.

The leather seats, however, were surprisingly soft, and I placed my carry on bag in one of the overhead bins.

I knew there were supposed to be three other girls joining me for the flight. They were all from different provinces and were also selected. I had done minimal research on each of the girls, not because I didn’t want to know, but because I didn’t want to psych myself out.

When I researched something, I researched it intensely. I wrote notes all over, I made webs, I scribbled one-liners-- another habit I had developed from filmmaking. So, instead, I opted for just looking at their names and faces and provinces. Though, there were too many to remember for now.

My leg shook as I waited for the others to arrive. Suddenly, I was regretting my no-research strategy. I was going in blind, and I had no idea if I would even get along with any of these girls. What if they thought I was pretentious because I am two? What if they hate my movies?

Not a real concern, but I had seen some nasty haters before.

Just then, a girl walked onto the plane. Her golden hair made her shine in the sunlight, and she smiled brightly.

“Hi! I’m Evalin!” she said, walking further onto the plane.

I smiled back, happy that so far, Evalin seemed very kind. “Hi Evalin! I’m Indie.”

She sat down in the chair across the aisle from me, and turned so she was facing me.

“It’s nice to meet you!” she said. “You’re from Clermont, right?”

Clearly, Evalin was more researched than I was. I only had to remember three other girls and their provinces for this plane ride and was already drawing a blank. I suddenly felt dumb.

“Yes! I am... and you're from... remind me again?” I responded, smiling sheepishly.

Evalin, cool as ever while smoothing out her skirt said, “Carolina. You’re a movie director, right?”

So, she knew me knew me.

I tried to give a kind smile, hoping to come off as humble but I worried about failing. “I am. What is your profession?”

“I’m still in college, but I’m studying biology.”

College. I thought that was pretty cool. It had always seemed like an interesting path, but by the time I graduated high school, I was already in the film industry and no one thought I needed to pursue a degree. I guess they were right because a year later, I was nominated for an Illéan Oscar Award.

“Oh wow,” I said. “That's really cool. I could never do science.”

It was true, science was a nightmare in school. That, and math.

“Thanks! It’s second nature for me, really. I grew up around it,” she said, smiling sheepishly. “I think it’s really cool what you do, though! I’ve never had that kind of artistic vision!”

Evalin, though going into a field much different than mine, was clearly just as passionate as I was. She was sweet, and I was really liking her so far. I hoped that she liked me too.

“Aw, thank you. It's the only thing I could ever do, and I'm glad. I truly love it. The profession saved me in a way.”

Another truth. Without film, I would be nothing.

“That’s amazing!! That kind of passion is very admirable!”

I grinned, feeling great and confident now that I had one good interaction under the belt. Besides, this type of conversation I was used to. The film industry was all about networking after all. And passion pays off. It’s easy to talk about one’s passions and Evalin and I were both clearly passionate.

Suddenly, I glanced over at the digital clock on the wall of the plane. The schedule had said the plane would be leaving in a few minutes. We were still missing two girls.

“We are still waiting on two more right?” I asked. “The plane is supposed to leave soon.”

Evalin looked over her shoulder out of her window. “Looks like one is coming now!”

Just as she said that, a girl came rushing into the plane. She was distracted, glancing back over her shoulder ever few moments with a stare of curiosity.

“Sorry, sorry, my parents kept saying goodbye,” she explained, but then, she turned, smiling. “Idalia Moretti. What about you guys?”

She walked over to an empty seat and plopped down. I couldn’t help but stare at her amused. She was a chaotic force but still seemed like she was excited and nervous. She reminded me of the interns on a film set.

Evalin responded first. “Evalin Berg. It’s nice to meet you!”

I responded right after. “Hi! I'm Indie!”

Just then, the last girl entered. Her name, I actually remembered. Shala Lie. She had headphones in and stared at the ground, ignoring all of us. She sat far away, and stared at the window. We all watched for a second, before turning back to one another.

“Are you guys excited?” I asked, grinning.

“Very! A little nervous too, though. What about you?” Evalin said.

Idalia then added, “It should be an interesting day. Tomorrow is when I’ll be nervous. Or... I guess whenever we meet the prince.”

I nodded, agreeing with both of them.

“I'm definitely a little bit of both excited and nervous. But, you're right. Tomorrow is when things get really real.”

“True. Today is just makeovers and getting settled in, right?” Evalin commented, wincing slightly as if she was embarrassed she didn’t know. “Sorry, this whole thing has been a bit of a whirlwind. It’s kind of hard to keep track of all the details.”

She didn’t need to feel bad. The only reason I knew is because I had studied the schedule like a call sheet.

“Yeah, I think so,” I supplied. “I'm sure there will be people telling us what to do, and where to go. I wouldn't worry too much.”

In a way, I realized that this Selection wouldn’t be all that different from a film set. There would almost always be a plan, a place for us to go, expectations to be met, and a hierarchy to listen to.

“It’s kind of weird, being thrown into the spotlight like this!” Evalin pointed out. “Do any of you know any of the other girls? I’ve only gotten tidbits of information that my sister has dug up.”

I did know one of the girls. Emily Rose White. She had acted in a couple of my movies. She was really sweet, and I wondered when I would see her when we got to Angeles.

“Yeah, I just know the details because I have a friend obsessed with this stuff. She sent me a PowerPoint of ‘the most important things to know’ on everything and everyone,” Idalia said.

“I know one of the girls, Emily. She's acted in a few of my movies. And I know some of the other actors just from the industry talk and stuff,” I admitted. “A Powerpoint? That's iconic.”

It was. I found it highly amusing, and I couldn’t help but smirk at the idea.

“Oh wow!” Evalin responded, laughing nervously. “Dare I ask what it said about us?”

“Oh, Evalin... never read the reviews,” I joked, chuckling softly.

Though, I’m not sure Evalin understood I was joking because her face flushed, and she laughed nervously as she said, “Ah sorry! I’m used to my work being peer-reviewed.”

Idalia laughed slightly at the interaction before stepping in and looking at me. “She is iconic like that. She liked your last by the way. It was in her PowerPoint.”

“Oh, really? That's sweet!” I responded. Though, it was probably hypocritical considering the joke I just told.

It was just nice to know that people didn’t hate my movies.

“I’m pretty sure your slide just said, ‘bio smart but I have no idea what any of her work says,’” Idalia continued, looking at Evalin.

Evalin blushed even more. “Ah, I haven’t really done anything of note. I held a research position under my genetics professor last semester, but it was mostly just me using a microscope.”

That sounded so cool, I thought. So important. Evalin must be really smart.

“That sounds way more intelligent than anything I've done so... kudos to you,” I applauded her.

She was so shy about her work. I wanted her to know she should be proud of it.

“What movies have you directed?” she asked, suddenly turning the conversation around to me.

I blanked for a moment, feeling like a fool, who forgot her own movies.

My brain came back, and I was left listing off a few of my works. “Uh... a few. Some of them you might know are Lady Bird and Little Women. I've also done The Greatest Showman. But, I also direct episodes of TV series sometimes.”

Evalin’s face lit up. “Oh, I loved Little Women! That and Pride and Prejudice are the two movies my sister insists we watch whenever we have a family movie night!”

My heart warmed. To think, my movie, was being played next to the Pride and Prejudice.

I grinned, responding, “Pride and Prejudice is amazing. I'm glad my movie sits along beside it at your family movie nights.”

Idalia returned to the conversation with, “Funny. My house is usually filled with suggestions of Megamind on family night.”

I also gasped out loud, laughing, but I contained it with an amused smiling, responding sarcastically. “Hey, I mean, Megamind... important stuff.”

Evalin asked, “Do you have a lot of siblings, too?”

I replied easily, “No, actually. I don't have any siblings. You?”

I looked to both Evalin and Idalia.

With an amused smile, Idalia said, “I only have a younger brother but Megamind is usually not his idea.”

I laughed, responding the again sarcastically, “Like I said, Megamind... important stuff.”

“I probably tease him more than he teases me,” Idalia said.

I chuckled again along with Evalin, who said, “I have 3 brothers and a sister. Megamind is a classic.”

Megamind… Megamind was something for sure. I hadn’t seen it in forever, and it was probably on once.

Instead, I thought more about her four siblings. I couldn’t imagine having even one sibling, let alone four.

“A big family! That must be nice,” I said.

“It is, for the most part, but we can get a little antsy,” Evalin explained. “There’s plenty of teasing and pranks to go around! Having time to yourself must be nice, though!”

I smiled again.

“Can be. But, at least I get to live vicariously through my characters,” I added whimsically. “Oh, hey, Idalia, we never asked what your profession was. You seem like a prankster, it has to be something interesting.”

She grinned, leaning back in her seat. “Interesting assumption. I fence sabre. Or saber if you want.”

Fencing? Also very cool.

Evalin must’ve also thought it was cool because her eyes lit up and she and Idalia went back and forth for a little.

“Oh wow, that’s awesome! I thought your name sounded kind of familiar! You fenced in the Olympics, right? My youngest brother had the games on 24/7 when they were being broadcasted!” Evalin said.

At the mention of the Olympics, Idalia brightened. “I did. I’m going again next year. Or at least that’s the plan.”

“Ah, congratulations!” Evalin exclaimed, but then bit her lip nervously. “Are you nervous about the possibility of this selection taking over a year? I know the officials said it shouldn’t, since it should display the Prince’s decisiveness, but I have to wonder how into the Selection he’s going to be, what with his engagement to Evie Waldia being cut off so recently.”

Idalia takes a moment to take that in a looks up at the ceiling, “Time will tell. But I doubt they will say I can’t go. Illéa, like everyone else, sends people that can win. If I‘m still one of the candidates when the time comes, it would be foolish of them to deny my participation.”

So, she was confident then. I didn’t mind that. In fact, I sort of admired it. But, too much confidence can get you into bad places, from what I had seen in the film industry at least. I silently hoped she would be careful.

“That’s true,” Evalin said with a sigh. “It must be so cool, being able to compete for your country like that!”

Finally, I chipped into the conversation. “That really is cool, Idalia. I'm sure you'll get to go. It's probably even better press for Illéa if they send a Selected.”

Evalin nodded, agreeing with me. “That’s a good point! You’d get to be serving the nation in two ways at once!”

Idalia chucked. “I guess that could be said. So we got a film director, bio major, fencer and…,” she trailed off, looking over at Shala. “An unknown.”

Shala was still looking out the window.

I leaned in closer to Evalin and Idalia while looking over at Shala with a slide glance. “Should...should we try to talk to her...or?”

“Shala?” Evalin tried to call out to her. When Shala didn’t respond, Evalin frowned and turned back around. “Maybe she’s just very nervous.”

“Yeah, probably...”

More time passed, and we continued to talking to each other for the whole trip.

I shrugged. “Well, anyway, you girls seem really nice. It's definitely made me feel a lot better about this whole process.”

I truly was happy that this entire conversation had gone well so far. I had no idea if the girls would be at each other’s throats, but these two, Evalin and Idalia, seemed really sweet.

“Likewise,” Evalin responded, smiling. “It’s good to know that we’re not in this alone.”

I nodded and Idalia said, “I’m sure Prince Arin must be having a similar feeling.”

I nodded again, and then grinned, leaning forward.

“Speaking of Prince Arin... thoughts?”

Evalin blushed, “Well, he is quite handsome, don’t you think?”

I smiled, sitting back in my seat.

“He is quite handsome,” I agreed. “I'm excited to get to know him. Or, at least I hope I get a chance to know him.”

Evalin nodded, “Me too. I’d love to be able to talk to him and get to know him. I’m sure he has lots of interesting stories to tell.”

“Yeah probably. It's just crazy that we are going to be living in the palace of all places,” I said excitedly. “Hanging out with the Prince of all people. Feels like a fever dream.”

Honestly, I felt like I was living in a fairytale. But, then again, I had felt like that for a long time.

“Truly! I never imagined that this is where life would actually take me!” Evalin said, looking out the window. “It looks like we’re about to land!”

I nodded, looking out my own window. We were just barely starting to descend. The city of Angeles glimmered below, a city I was familiar with. A city I lived in most of the time. I had missed it, and it definitely would be weird to not head back to my house, but instead, to the palace.

“Yep. We should keep in touch down there. I think it'll be nice to have some friendly faces around,” I added, trying to come off as genuine.

Because I was, I just wanted to make sure they knew I was.

“Certainly!” both Evalin and Idalia agreed.

We continued to talk as the plane descended, speaking mostly about room arrangements. I was sad to find out that Idalia and Evalin were in the same hall, and I was in another, but I tried to stay positive. That would just mean a better chance of getting to know more people.

“I’ve heard there’s a woman’s room. And also the etiquette lessons,” Idalia said, as we talked about how we would see each other around.

“True! I’m kind of excited for the etiquette lessons. It’ll be nice to learn something different,” Evalin explained.

“Oh it’ll be something for sure,” Idalia responded, clearly amused. “How to be photographed, how to curtsy! Maybe which spoon is for the salad as well.”

I laughed a little, but warned, “Trust me, that’s not the hard stuff. It’s the learning to talk to the press that’s hard.”

That, I definitely knew. After all, I had been given etiquette lessons before-- right after my short film had taken off and I got sponsored to go to a school for threes. And then, my film career had taken off, and I had to learn how to do interviews and walk red carpets and how to be a proper two.

It was exhausting, but I was thankful for it.

“I wonder if they’ll make us learn how to walk with books balanced on our heads,” Evalin added.

I laughed, picturing it in my head. Evalin and Idalia were pretty funny.

“That would be funny to see,” I said.

Not long after that, the plane landed. We were escorted off, and into a limousine. We didn’t talk much during the ride, each of excited and nervous about what lay ahead of us.

As for me, I was happy to be back in Angeles and ready to try my chance at change and love.

[mentions: @evalinkatrineberg , @idaliamoretti , @emily-rose-white ]

#selectionoc #pcp1 #part 2 #indiana connors #fic #((I skipped the sendoff but oh well))

9 notes · View notes

saiilorstars · 5 years ago

Text

The Beginning of Everything

I was going to wait on publishing this story here but I realize it’s the only story that isn’t going to be so far apart in terms of chapters between the different websites I publish them on. So, enjoy!

Fandom: Doctor Who Pairing: Female OC x 10th Doctor

Story summary: While hiding from the Family, Martha Jones and the 10th Doctor (currently John Smith) come across a particular woman who does not want anything to do with them. In fact, Martha would go as far as to say that Renata Cartwright hates them, more so the Doctor. After the Family is gone and the Doctor returns, he comes face to face with a woman who wants nothing to do with him...almost as if she knew him. And she outright refuses to travel with him. *First of the Home Saga*

The face claim for this OC will be the actress Marjorie De Sousa!

// Story Masterlist //

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

Chapter 1: Hidden

The console of the TARDIS sparked like crazy, Martha and the Doctor picking themselves off the floor. The Doctor rushed over to Martha and pulled her up, urgently needing to know, "Did they see you?"

"I don't know!" Martha cried out, still trying to gather her bearings. She felt like her lungs would explode from all the running they did just to get into the TARDIS.

"Did they see you?"

"I don't know, I was too busy running!"

"Martha, it's important - did they see your face?" the Doctor wouldn't desist in asking until he got a sure answer from her.

"No, they couldn't have!"

The Doctor ran around the console, pushing the controls to get them the hell out of there, "Off we go!"

Martha came to join him, the Doctor watching the rotor with intent. Suddenly, a beeping sound cut in and symbols appeared on the screen, "Ah!" the Doctor, heavily irritated, grabbed the screen and read it, "They're following us," he returned to the control.

"How can they do that, you've got a time machine," Martha frowned, wasn't that the point of these things?

"Stolen technology, they've got a Time Agent's vortex manipulator. They can follow us wherever we go, right across the universe..." the Doctor paused, knowing what that would mean, " They're never going to stop," he ran a hand through his hair nervously, until an idea popped up, "Unless...I'll have to do it..." he stared at Martha, directly into her eyes, "Martha, you trust me don't you?"

"Of course I do," Martha nodded, nearly offended at the question.

"Cause it all depends on you," he dove under the console.

"What does, what am I supposed to do?" Martha watched in confusion as he reappeared holding an ornate pocket watch in his hand.

"Take this watch, 'cause my life depends on it. The watch, Martha- The watch is-"

John Smith gasped awake, looking around and seeing he was in his room, on his bed, in blue striped pajamas. He sat up, thinking a few moments of his odd dream, and rubbed his eyes. A few seconds later, there was a knock on the door and he stood up. "Come in!" he called.

Martha Jones walked in, wearing a maid's uniform and carrying a tray of breakfast. Upon seeing John still in his pajamas, her eyes widened and she promptly turned back, "Pardon me, Mr. Smith, you're not dressed yet. I can come back later-"

"No, it's alright, it's alright. Put it down," he pulled a dressing gown around himself, tying it closed.

Martha walked to a table in the center of the room and set the tray down, her eyes lowered while John watched her thoughtfully, "I was, um... " he then realized he was staring at his maid and shook his head, "Sorry, sorry. Sometimes I have these extraordinary dreams."

"What about, sir?" Martha crossed the room to the window, pulling the curtains open.

"I dream I'm this..." he paused again, looking for the right word that could possibly describe himself, "Adventurer. This...daredevil, a madman. 'The Doctor', I'm called. And last night I dreamt that you were there, as my... companion."

Martha returned to the tray on the table, "A teacher and a housemaid, sir? That's impossible. "

"Ah no, a man from another world, though..."

"Well it can't be true because there's no such thing."

John moved over to the fireplace, looking at the mantle, "This thing..." he picked up his fob watch, "The watch..."

Martha watched in hope...but he set it back on the mantle with a sigh.

"Ah, it's funny how dreams slip away," he turned back to Martha, "But I do remember one thing; it all took place in the future. In the year of our Lord two thousand and seven."

"I can prove that wrong for you sir, here's the morning paper," she handed him the paper, "It's Monday, November tenth, nineteen thirteen, and you're completely human, sir. As human as they come."

"Mmm, that's me; completely human," John smiled.

~0~

"Where are you going, mother?" a small, little girl poked her head into her mother's room.

A young, blonde woman was staring at herself in the mirror, a soft smile on her face when she saw her daughter, "I'm visiting your brother today at the academy."

"Again? Is Sebastian really that much of a momma's boy?" the girl tilted her head, a hint of a teasing smile spreading across her face.

"Lucy, watch your tongue," she snapped, "Now you be good to Elena, understood? I shouldn't be late for lunch."

"Yes, mother," Lucy nodded and disappeared, going off to her nana's room.

The mother took one last look at each other before smiling in satisfaction and heading off to see her son.

~0~

In the school corridor, Martha, along with her friend Jenny, another maid, were on their hands and knees scrubbing the tiled floor. John walked past them, Martha smiling and watching after him, "Morning, sir,."

John slowed down, a bit distracted, "Yes, hi," he disappeared up the stairs.

"Head in the clouds, that one. Don't know why you're so sweet on him," Jenny shook her head with a smile while Martha just watched after John.

"He's just kind to me, that's all. Not everyone's that considerate, what with me being..." Martha pointed to her face, specifically the color of her skin.

"A Londoner?" Jenny smiled.

"Exactly. Good old London town!" Martha laughed.

Two senior students, Baines and Hutchinson, walked past the the two and turned back, "Ah, now then, you two," Baines called, "You're not paid to have fun, are you. Put a little backbone into it."

Jenny and Martha looked at each other, their laughter cut short, "Yes Sir, sorry, Sir," mumbled Jenny.

"You there, what's your name again?" Hutchinson asked Martha.

"Martha, Sir. Martha Jones."

"Tell me then, Jones. With hands like those, how can you tell when something's clean?"

The two boys laughed cruelly, Martha narrowing her eyes at the pair.

"Now then, I do hope I heard wrong," a woman's voice cut short the laughter of the two students.

The students turned around to see a blonde woman standing behind them, even Martha and Jenny taking a peek.

The blonde woman had put her hands on her hips and was giving the two students such a disapproving, motherly look. "You know, I would think this school would take priorities on manners instead of weapons. Your manners are your principles, your core. If you disrespect someone...who does that make you, then? If you are going to be respectable men of this world, then you must know everyone is valuable, indispensable, to one another. Apologize to that woman right now," she nodded over to Martha.

The students glanced at each other before turning to Martha, "We're...sorry," they muttered.

"Good, now go and call Sebastian for me, please. Tell him his mother is here to visit him."

"Yes, ma'am," they muttered and walked away.

The blonde rolled her eyes, sighing and fixing herself, "I do hope they learn their lesson," she spoke, Martha a bit confused if she was talking to her or herself. The blonde looked up, "I apologize. Give them a weapon and suddenly they can stomp around everyone. I don't think so," she wagged a finger and walked up the stairs.

"That woman," Jenny shook her head, "We need woman like that. I tell you what, that's probably why she hasn't remarried anymore, no man likes a woman who speaks against the way of a man."

Martha was still a bit in shock from the blonde woman. She felt those words were...a bit beyond her time...

~0~

"And so he's doing well, then?" the same blonde was asking the headmaster about her son.

"Mrs. Cartwright, he is doing pretty well," the headmaster assured, but then after a moment he reluctantly added, "There is only one teacher who remarks a bit differently about him," the headmaster nodded.

Both of them were walking down the corridor of the second level. Their intention was to find Sebastian seeing that the other two students her mother had ordered to call him hadn't done the job.

"Really? And what seems to be the problem?" Mrs. Cartwright asked, a bit surprised of the news. She had yet to meet a teacher who disfavored her son.

"I wouldn't know how to tell you, honestly. That would be Mr. Smith's department."

"Well, do you mind if I have a word with Mr. Smith, then?"

"Not at all, I do believe he was at the library."

"Ah, yes, well thank you headmaster," Mrs. Cartwright nodded, walking ahead. She left the headmaster behind, intending on finding this Mr. Smith and having a good word with him. However, as she turned into a new hallway she bumped into one of the students. "Sebastian!" she cried in delight at seeing her son.

"Sorry mother," the brunette boy shook his head, "I was a bit excited to know you were coming."

"Oh, so then they did tell you I was here," Mrs. Cartwright took her son into a big hug. "I was thinking that perhaps after the big scolding I gave them they wouldn't listen to me."

"You need to stop doing things like that," Sebastian pulled away, not seeming angry but still not content with the news of his mother's outburst reaching every corner of the school in minimal time.

"Well then your friends need to acquire some manners," Mrs. Cartwright retorted. "But now is not the time to talk about that. I was actually on my way to speak with one of your teachers. It seemed like you haven't pleased him."

Sebastian sighed, knowing which teacher that was, "It's not my fault, mother."

"You earn the grade you work for. Now I'd like to know why this teacher comment differently about you," she pointed.

"But it's not my fault!"

"Sebastian, your choices have consequences. Do not blame your teacher for something you have earned," she turned him around and starting walking with him, "I want to talk to this teacher, know what exactly is going on and how we can intervene."

Sebastian knew there was no getting out of this. So when he saw Mr. Smith coming in their direction, fumbling with a pile of books, he sighed and pointed ahead, "That's him over there, mother."

His mother looked ahead, seeing the man and walking over, "Good morning, Mr. Smith," she greeted, watching him fumble over the top book of his pile.

"Uh yes, hello," he was a bit distracted with the pile, though knowing the voice was unfamiliar to him, "Morning, Miss...uh..."

"Cartwright, em..." she reached for the top book that was falling, accidentally brushing against the other books and making them all just plummet to the floor, "Oh!"

"Ah!" John sighed in exasperation.

"Dear me, I do apologize Mr. Smith!'

"No, it's um... it's quite..." he looked up, a bit surprised of the woman before him, "...alright," he definitely had never seen her before and so that must mean she had to be... "Sebastian Cartwright, is this your mother?" the young boy nodded, "Well...um, hello," John seemed to stutter, the blonde smiling politely, "I'm, um, John, John Smith," he held out his hand.

"Hello..." the blonde reached for his hand, also a bit stunned at the sight of the man, "...I'm Renata, Renata Cartwright."

"Lovely to meet you, Mrs. Cartwright," he took her hand and kissed the back of it, making Renata fluster at the contact.

In the background, Sebastian rolled his eyes. Great, this was the last thing he needed, his mother and his teacher. As the two looked at each other for several moments, John found her exquisitely beautiful.

Renata Cartwright was rather tall, almost to John's height, her golden blonde hair falling midway her back in soft curls. Her eyes were a deep chocolate brown and her cheeks wore a light pink tinge to them.

"Renata is just fine," she took her hand back, "Um, I wanted to talk to you about my son's problem that he apparently has in your class."

"Ah, well, if you'd like to talk about it...we could do it right now, just as soon as I bring these books to my room," he gestured to the big mess she'd caused.

"Allow me to help," she quickly volunteered, "After all, it is my fault," she bent down and the pair started picking them up, each carrying half the weight.

"Mother, can I go now?" Sebastian asked once the two had stood up with the pile of books.

"Yes, be good now," she warned sternly, "I have enough trouble from your sister. I don't need my eldest boy to make ruckus like a toddler."

"Yes, mother," he nodded and went on his way.

"Now then, where were these headed again?" Renata turned to John..

"To my room," he nodded behind him.

"Then off we go," she walked ahead of him.

It only took a couple corridors for them to make a decent conversation with each other.

"So Sebastian is distracted often," John was saying, "He's intelligent, brilliant, very careful...but he gets distracted very easily."

"Yes, I do recall that being a problem last year as well. I promise you, John, I will talk to my boy and I will make him pay attention," Renata assured.

"It's nice to see you take great interest in your son's education," John smiled.

"Well, if I won't, who will?"

"Your husband, I would imagine..."

Renata swallowed, stopping at an alcove of the staircase, turning to an announcement board for a distraction, "Oh look at this, my little Lucy has been speaking about this. It's the annual dance at the village hall tomorrow. It's nothing formal, but rather fun by all accounts."

"I take it you and your husband will be attending?" John watched her face sort of grow in distaste for some reason.

"My husband is dead, John," she informed quietly, "He died many years ago."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Renata," he shook his head, feeling terrible for bringing up the subject, "Please excuse my imprudence."

"No, it's quite fine. I don't usually talk about it, hardly anyone knows."

"Well, um..." he glanced back at the noticeboard, wanting a quick distraction for her, "...You should really go to the dance."

"I should?" Renata blinked, "I hadn't thought about it."

"Yeah, you're beautiful no doubt," he gestured to her appearance, clearing his throat when he realized what had been said, "You're young, and you seem like a lovely woman. Why wouldn't anyone ask you?:

"Well, it's been ages since I've been to a dance cos no one's asked me," she laughed nervously. "Who wants to ask the widow?"

What was she doing? Was she actually nervous of a human? And not a scared nervous but a...blushing, heart beating, nervous? No. That could not happen. Ever.

"Well, I should imagine that you would be...um...I mean I never thought you'd be one for... I mean there's no reason why you shouldn't..." John started muzzling, backing away from her, "If you do, you may not...I probably won't, but even if I did then I couldn't...um, I mean maybe we could...um..."

"John, the stairs," Renata turned to him, eyes slightly wide in alarm.

"It - what about them?" he continued backing up.

"Well they're right behind you..."

John turned to see the stairs and overbalanced, falling backwards. Renata dropped her books and hurried to see...but the man was already on the floor with all the books sprawled everywhere.

"Oh dear..." she made a face.

Had she caused this?

~0~

Renata entered John's room holding Matron Joan's medical bag. Joan was cleaning a cut on the back of the man's head, John groaning against the pain.

Renata chuckled, "My little Lucy causes less trouble than you, and she's eight!"

"Because it hurts!" he pouted sulkily.

Renata shook her head and handed the bag over to Matron Joan, "Here you go. And thank you for coming."

Matron Joan and Renata were very good friends, even before John Smith had arrived. Renata was also learning the ways to become a nurse and Joan was more than glad to help her along the way.

The door to the room opened and Martha burst in, "Is he alright?"

"Excuse me, Martha. It's hardly good form to enter a master's study without knocking," Joan scolded.

Martha, heavily annoyed, walked back to the door and simply knocked twice, "Better?" she raised an eyebrow and returned, "Is he alright?" she looked at John, "They said you fell down the stairs, Sir."

Renata watched Martha carefully, picking up some extra care in the woman's eyes.

"No, it was just a tumble, that's all," John mumbled.

"Have you checked for concussion?" Martha asked Joan.

Renata was now fairly intrigued by the woman's knowledge.

"I have. And I daresay I know a lot more about it than you," Joan snapped.

Martha remembered she wasn't supposed to know anything about medicine and nodded, "Sorry. I'll just..." she looked at the Doctor, "...tidy your things."

Renata glanced between Martha and Joan, "Well, no need to be tensed...either of you. If you're just trying to help, I mean..."

Joan shook her head, not understanding how Renata could defend the maid. But that was just like her. She would defend anyone or help anyone that needed her.

"John, are you sure you're okay?" Renata bent down in front of him, still mighty guilty she had been the reason he had fallen down the stairs.

"Physically, yes," John nodded, seeing the confusion stir in her eyes, "I was telling Nurse Redfern- Matron, um, about my dreams. They are quite remarkable tales."

"Have they been interrupting your sleep?" she asked, her own recurring dreams, more like nightmares than anything, flashing through her head.

"No, well...they're a bit strange, but...not bad."

Meanwhile, Martha looked at the trio, hearing John explain to the women about his 'dreams'. She didn't think it was a good idea to disclose anything about the Doctor to these humans...but it's not like she could stop them, right?

"I keep imagining that I'm someone else, and that I'm hiding..."

"Hiding? In what way?" Joan asked, a bit interested herself.

"Um... er... almost every night..." John laughed, "This is going to sound silly..."

"Then tell us," Renata smiled, in the mood for something that could make her smile and forget.

"I dream, quite often, that I have two hearts."

Renata's smile faded.

"Well then, I can be the judge of that," Joan reached into her doctor's bag and took out a stethoscope.

Renata stood up and backed away, watching with great intent as Joan placed the stethoscope against John's chest. Upon hearing one heartbeat, Joan moved it to his left side and heard nothing.

"I can confirm the diagnosis- just one heart, singular."

Renata looked around the room, as if searching for something.

"I have written down some of these dreams in the form of fiction... um... not that it would be of any interest...to either of you," John cast a look to Renata, a bit more interested for her to hear.

"I'd be very interested..." Joan spoke up first, smiling as she noticed the man's gaze on her friend behind, "...and I'm sure Renata would love to hear as well."

At the mention of her name, Renata's eyes snapped back to the pair, startled to see John just staring at her, "Oh, um...sure, yes..." she watched John beam and move to his desk, Martha noticing the woman's gaze had changed and liked like she was... studying?

"Well... I've never shown it to anyone before," John returned with a black leather bound journal in his hands.

Renata slowly took it from him, studying the handwritten title on the first page, "'Journal of Impossible Things'" she turned the first couple of pages, Joan moving beside her as they both took in its contents.

Martha saw the immediate different reactions from both women. Matron Joan looked in deep awe, her eyes scanning every last detail on the pages. Renata, on the other hand, had gone pale. Her eyes were wide, filled with what one would call horror. Her eyes slowly looked from one sketch to another, widening more and more.

"Just look at these creatures!" Joan chuckled, turning the page to reveal a Dalek sketch in ink.

Renata nearly dropped the book at the sight, swallowing hard as she handed it to Joan, "Sorry...um, I-I just...I can't," she made a break for the door.

"Renata!" John swiftjy caught up, holding onto her arm and gently turning her around, "Are you okay? Have I frightened you?"

Renata breathed heavily, "Who are you?" she whispered. Neither noticed Martha stepping up, on high alarm. Had they been caught?

"I'm...I'm John," he smiled awkwardly, "Are you sure you don't want to have a seat? You seem rather pale."

Her eyes flickered from him to Joan, who was also looking in concern. Renata figured if she wanted to know, know the identity of this false man, she had to stay and read the journal. She nodded and allowed John to bring her over to the couch, sitting her down with caution.

"I must say, John, your imagination is quite vast," Joan moved over to the pair, showing the journal to Renata in hopes she could help her blonde friend. It was just like Renata to drive away any man that showed the least bit of interest in her.

Renata took another look at the pages, hoping to God she had seen wrong the first time. But as she passed the pages, she saw familiar creatures. Her breathing struggled to maintain itself at a normal rate. There were Autons sketched over, the Moxx of Balhoon, and clockwork robots.

"It's wonderful," she whispered, turning the page to see a sketch of Rose Tyler's face, "And quite an eye for the pretty girls."

"Oh no no, she's just an invention. This character, Rose, I call her, Rose," John quickly said, feeling compelled to clarify he didn't know the woman and most certainly didn't want anything to do with her, "Seems to disappear later on..."

Renata's breath hitched as she turned to the next page. There were Cybermen...a sketch of a TARDIS.

"Ah, that's the box, the blue box, it's always there," John pointed to the blue box, "Like a...like a magic carpet, this funny little box that transports me to far away places."

"Like a doorway?" tried Joan.

"Mmm..."

Renata, again, turned the page and with rather haste. She found different faces, ten different faces...

"I sometimes think how magical life would be if things like this were true," John said, distracted as he looked from one face to another.

"If only," Joan chuckled.

"It's just a dream."

"Just a dream..." Renata whispered, turning the next page and finding...a fob watch.

~0~

Renata and Matron Joan walked out of John's room, Renata holding a tight grip on John's journal. She had asked him if she could borrow the journal and keep reading. She had to know who he was...

"Ma'am! That book-" Martha Jones ran after the pair.

"Oh I'll look after it, don't worry. He did say I could read it," Renata turned around, now looking at Martha with distrust.

"But it's silly, that's all," Martha insisted, nervously smiling, "Just stories."

"Then I am sure it will be interesting to read," Joan said, trying to usher Renata to walk.

"Who is he, Martha?" Renata suddenly asked, her eyes narrowing as Martha nearly stumbled back from the question.

"I'm sorry?" she asked, noticing the change in Renata's tone and posture. The woman seemed soft at first, warn and kind. Now she was cold, her eyes searching Martha endlessly for an answer. She seemed almost...threatening.

"Joan, could you go on ahead without me?" Renata asked, glancing at her friend, "We'll go and have that tea."

Joan nodded and walked off, Martha cautiously stepping back. Renata awaited the appropriate time to speak again, wanting no one to hear her.

"Your name was Martha, right?"

"Martha Jones, ma'am," Martha nodded.

"Martha Jones," Renata tested the name out, "Let me see if I remember correctly, according to Sebastian and Joan, Mr. Smith arrived two months ago with you?".

"He found me employment here at the school...I used to work for the family, he just sort of inherited me," Martha felt like she had suddenly been thrown into an interrogation room.

"Well see, here's the thing that intrigues me about you..."

"Me?" Martha pointed to herself in confusion.

"All the maids here never speak up like you do. They keep their heads down and serve their masters and mistresses with respect and distance. But you...you sometimes seem a little familiar with him. All this leads me to one question, one question that I will find out through this journal," Renata glanced at the journal in her hands, Martha looking at it vaguely, "Or...through your lips," Renata looked up at her, the same coldness bathing her eyes, "Who is he, Martha?"

Martha tensed, "Well, who are you?"

"I'm Renata Cartwright, and you?" Renata waited, or rather gave a chance for Martha to speak up. Unfortunately, Martha did nothing but stare silently. "You are not from here, that easily I can tell. So then, who is John Smith?" but Martha stepped back again, remaining silent. Renata took it as a declaration of war, sensing Martha's outright refusal to answer, "Listen here, Martha Jones, if either you or 'John Smith' try anything to hurt my son, my daughter, my friends..." Renata stepped closer to Martha, utterly harsh, "...you will get to know just who I really am."

Martha swallowed, no clue of what to do next. Renata backed away and turned, walking off with satisfaction that her message got through.

She had lost everything once...she would not lose the little she had managed to build for herself.

~0~

It was dark out by the time Renata had finished reading John Smith's journal. She sat by the couch, in front of the window, and looked up. She let out a shaky breath, her hands closing the journal. It was him...it was...him.

"You have got to go," she whispered, her eyes threatening to spill with tears.

~0~

Outside the village pub, Martha and Jenny sat at a small round table with their drinks.

"Ooh, it's freezing out here! Why can't we have a drink inside the pub?" Martha complained as she drank out of her pint.

"Now don't be ridiculous - you do get these notions! It's all very well those Suffragettes; but that's London, that's miles away," Jenny waved her off.

"But don't you want to scream sometimes, having to bow and scrape and behave, don't you just wanna tell them?"

"I dunno. Things must be different in your country."

"Yeah, well they are. Thank God I'm not staying," Martha made a face and looked away for a moment.

"You keep saying that..."

"Just you wait. One more month and I'm as free as the wind," Martha dreamed of the day the Doctor would return and take her away again. "I wish you could come with me, Jenny - you'd love it!"

"Where are you gonna go?"

"Anywhere, hopefully soon," Martha swallowed, thinking of today's account.

Renata Cartwright had practically declared herself an enemy of the Doctor and hers. She wanted to leave as quick as possible and could only hope Renata wouldn't do anything in the last month they needed to remain in hiding.

Martha looked up to the sky, sighing, "That's where I'm going. Into the sky, all the way out."

Jenny laughed at the notions of her friend, but Martha remained gazed up at the sky. Suddenly, Martha saw a green light flares across the sky, disappearing after a corner second or two.

"Did you see that?" Martha sat up, her gaze stuck on the sky.

"See what?" Jenny barely looked up, seeing nothing but stars.

"Did you see it though?" Martha stood up, her heart beating faster. Could this be one of Renata's tactics against the Doctor and her? "Right up there, just for a second."

"Martha, there's nothing there," Jenny stood up as well, but Martha remained unconvinced.

"You!" Renata Cartwright suddenly appeared, storming towards Martha and Jenny, her finger pointed violently at Martha.

Martha stumbled back, Renata going straight for her, "What's wrong, miss?"

"I'm only going to tell you this once," Renata stopped right in front of her, her eyes nearly gobbling Martha up with anger, "You and your Doctor need to get the hell out of here!"

Martha blinked rapidly, her mind racing to figure out how to calm the woman, "Um, M-Miss Cartwright, you-"

"GET OUT!" Renata screamed, Martha flinching greatly.

"Miss Cartwright," Jenny stood, completely alarmed.

"Go home, Jenny," Renata instructed, not even turning to see how afraid the woman was of her at the moment. She was focused on Martha, and 'the Doctor'.

"I guess you know everything now, but...I just gotta ask...how?" Martha blinked, completely confused.

Even if she had read the whole journal, how could she know who the Doctor was? How could she think, for one moment, that the Doctor was real? Why would a human, besides Martha herself, in the year 1913 ever believe that there was a man of another universe, with two hearts and a blue box?

"That is none of your business!" Renata gritted her teeth, "You will listen to me and get out! Get out of 1913, because this...this is my time! This is my home, now and you will not ruin this!" her voice faulted and her eyes began watering up.

At that moment, John Smith emerged from the pub, a hat in his hand. He smiled when he saw the presence of Renata Cartwright and joined them, "Renata, how are you-" he reached for her arm when she jerked it away from him.

"Don't touch me!" she snapped, stepping back from him and Martha.

John frowned, "Um...is everything alright?"

"You and her need to leave!" Renata exclaimed, confusing him even more, "You need to get your things and-"

'There!" Martha suddenly pointed to the sky again, everyone looking up to see the same green light fly over like a shooting star.

Renata immediately quieted down at the sight, something was wrong...something would be very wrong.

"That's beautiful," Jenny remarked.

"There...orgom. Commonly known as a meteorite. It's just rocks falling to the ground, that's all..." John explained, but sounded distracted as he was cautiously looking at Renata. She seemed so out of place at the moment, so angry...but why?

"That came down in the woods," Renata whispered, still heard by the others.

"No, no no, they always look close, when actually they're miles off. Nothing left but a cinder," the Doctor stepped over to her side, "Would you like me to escort you home?"

"No," she crossed her arms and stepped away from him.

He couldn't take that kind of attitude, it actually...hurt him. That was weird, in all the time he could remember he never felt so hurt because a woman refused to let him touch her arm.

"I have my children to attend do," Renata studied the man, figuring if he was the Doctor he didn't know at the time. He had used the fob watch and made himself human. She cast a look at Martha, nodding to the place where the light had seemingly fallen too, Martha confused for a second until she realized Renata wanted to go see what it was...with her.

"Jenny, where was that? On the horizon, where the light was headed," Martha asked, her look still on Renata.

"That's by Cooper's Field," Jenny replied.

"I shall bid goodnight," Renata muttered and walked away, leaving John to stare after her.

~0~

"Who are you!?" demanded Renata as she and Martha ran through the woods, "Who the hell are you and what are you doing in 1913!?"

"Me!? Who are you!?" Martha exclaimed, over her fear of Renata, seeing as she wasn't responsible for the green light, "How can you possibly think the Doctor is real? No human, especially in 1913, would accept that so easily!"

"That is none of our concern! I want you and the Doctor out of here, NOW!"

"Oh and what are we gonna do about the green light, hmm?"

"We? There is no 'we' in this. For all I know, you could be responsible for this!" Renata huffed and looked to the side. She didn't actually mean those words of hers, as she remembered the man was a complete madman, even as young, but he would never intentionally hurt someone else.

"If you thought that, then we wouldn't be running together to go see what it was," Martha countering, noticing Renata's sudden silence.

They stopped at the head of the clearing, nothing in sight...

"That was strange, then," Renata took a step forwards, "Nothing there..."

"And that's Cooper's Field?" Martha asked, unsure herself there was nothing there.

"But there was a light...and it did fall..."

Martha turned around, calm and serious, "Miss Cartwright, the Doctor and I mean no harm. I promise you. But we can't leave...not right now."

"I need you to leave," Renata insisted, respecting Martha for the calm attitude she was taking despite the rude way she herself took upon Martha, "And I say that with respect. I don't want you here, especially the Doctor. Just...just go and leave, please."

"Do you know him?" she frowned, had the Doctor left yet another woman after his trail like Rose?

Renata's eyes faltered and for a brief minute she looked down, "...no," Martha eyed her curiously, unsure of her answer, "But I know what he is. He took the fob watch, didn't he?" Martha blinked at the knowledge Renata had, "Yes, he did, didn't he?" Renata shook her head, "What's he running from? Because I doubt he ran from what I ran...he wouldn't have had a human with him."

Martha saw no point in hiding anymore, Renata knew and if she herself wasn't human then she would need to get Renata on their side...so she wouldn't hurt the Doctor, "...there was this Family..." Martha began, "...they wanted the Doctor cos he can live past one life cycle..." Renata nodded, awfully calm, "...but the Doctor said that the lifespan of the Family was limited so if he turned human and we waited for three months, the Family would just die out and he could open the watch after...but he doesn't know he's the Doctor, John Smith believes he's John Smith."

"So you're not here...searching...?"

"Why would we be searching?" Martha frowned, confused as Renata shifted on her feet.

"No reason," Renata cleared her throat, putting her hands on her hips as she thought, "Alright, tell you what, then...I'll keep my mouth shut about all this. And in return, neither you nor 'the Doctor', or John Smith, shall make contact with me or my children. John Smith will only teach Sebastian."

"Yeah, sure," Martha quickly nodded, "And...and you?"

"What about me?"

"You...won't try anything?"

Renata scoffed, "The last thing I wanna do is draw attention to myself or my children. Goodnight, Martha Jones. Sincerely, I wish you and the Doctor can get out of here like you plan."

Martha nodded, watching silently as Renata left. Renata wasn't human, that much she knew. What could she be doing here? Why was she so keen on getting her and the Doctor out of 1913 to leave her...? Why?

~0~

"Mum! Mum, can I get the door?" little Lucy Cartwright trailed after her mother, both of them hearing several knocks on the door to their house.

"No, Lucy, it's far too dangerous," Renata replied calmly, rolling her eyes at her daughter's groan. After the mysterious light of last night, she was going to take extra precaution with her children. She would not lose them too. She opened the door up, genuinely surprised to find John Smith on the other side, "John?" was all she could say.

"Renata, hello...um," the Doctor looked down to the small child behind her.

"What are you doing here?" Renata asked, setting a hand on Lucy's shoulder who only poked her head around her mother's side.

"Uh..." if he had to be honest, he didn't know what he was doing there either. He had allowed Martha to go into the village for some free time and somehow he decided to go to Renata's house. After last night, he just needed to make sure she was alright...not angry anymore. So he asked Martha to pinpoint the blonde's house, excusing it as a simple teacher intervention concerning Sebastian.

"Aren't you Sebastian's teacher?" Lucy broke the silence that fell over the adults, finally coming around her mother, "Is he a bad student? I think he is. He never listens!"

The Doctor smiled at the little girl, he always did have a soft sport for children, "He's very hardworking."

Lucy scoffed, "Yeah right!"

"Uh, Lucy, go with Elena, yeah?" Renata pushed the girl behind her, over to a door on the fa right of the house.

"But muuuum..."

"No, go," Renata pushed her off, the girl huffing and making her way to her nana's room.

"She seems lovely," the Doctor remarked, still awkwardly standing on the front door.

"Yeah, yeah," Renata sighed, "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see if you were alright...truthfully, last night, you alarmed me..."

"Yes, I'm fine, you can go now," she tried closing the door but John placed a hand between and stopped her.

"Can we please talk?"

"Please," Renata closed her eyes for a moment as she gathered her self and courage, "There's nothing to be talked about. It'd be best if you just go. You partly came for the journal, right?"

"No, no..."

"Do you want it back now? I finished it," she left the door and walked over to the kitchen table where the journal was placed on, "Very nice imagination."

"Renata, have I done something wrong?" the Doctor sighed, really disliking the coldness he was receiving from her. It hurt.

"No, everything's fine. I just have some things to do. I was going to to the village in the afternoon and I want to finish my work around the house, first. So, please just...go back to the school..." she handed him back the journal, "I think you should allow Joan to read it. She seemed fascinated by it as well."

"Sure..." John looked at his journal for a second before looking up to Renata's deep, chocolate brown eyes. He smiled warmly, despite Renata's odd attitude with him, those pair remained as warm and loving as ever.

"I must get to work, John," Renata snapped him out of his thoughts, "Please say hello to my son for me."

"Yeah," John nodded, nearly forcing himself to turn away and walk. He didn't know why but he just want to spend some time with the blonde, talk to her...but it actually hurt him that she rejected him.

Renata watched the man walk away, heaving an unexpected sigh. She caught it and shook her head, "What am I doing..." she shook her head again and closed the door, turning around to see Elena, the nana of her daughter and closest friend of hers.

"Well, who was that?" the black-haired woman crossed her arms, a playful smirk on her face.

Elena was middle-aged and also a widow. Her hair was black and fell down her shoulders. Her eyes were a shade of light hazel, her cheekbones a bit pronounced. She lived with Renata and Lucy, and at a time Sebastian, after her husband died. She helped Renata take care of the house and the children, and even handled her own job down at the village. Overall, she was someone Renata trusted above anyone in town...almost with everything.

"Sebastian's teacher," Renata shrugged and walked away.

"And what's he doing over here?" Elena trailed after her.

"Just visiting."

"Why would a teacher visit a student's single, widowed mother? Hmmm..." Elena smirked again.

Renata rolled her eyes, this was the last thing she needed, "Can you go call Lucy? I need help to finish around the house. I have a lot of errands to do in the village."

Elena rolled her eyes, knowing how this would go. There was a nice man who showed interest in Renata, Renata pushed them away in the coldest way possible until the poor man resigned himself and let her go. Then Renata would resume her lonely life, caring only for her children.

That's always how it went.

~0~

The students were lined up in a column, doing target practice directed by John Smith. The headmaster overlooked as well, but from a distance. One of the students seemed to have gotten distracted and caused the partner to get into a state.

"There's a stoppage, immediate action," the angry student, Hutchinson, growled. "Didn't I tell you, sir, this stupid boy is useless!" he regarded over the slightly smaller student beside him. "Permission to give Latimer a beating, Sir?"

"It's your class, Mr Smith," the headmaster gave a casual shrug of his shoulders.

"Permission granted," John said without a second thought.

"Right, come with me, you little oiyk," Hutchinson grabbed Timothy by the wrist and yanked him up to his feet. The rest of the boys followed to 'help'. Baines, one of the few students to remain, took a long sniff and rather loudly.

"Anything the matter, Baines?" John looked him over, concerned for the boy.

"I thought... No sir. Nothing, sir," Baines turned on his feet and went to join the rest of the boys.

"As you were, Mr. Smith," the headmaster said before leaving.

"Ah... Pemberton, Smythe, Wicks, take post," John instructed, three more boys taking the positions.

By chance, John glanced about and spotted Matron Joan watching the gunshots. He bit his lip, thinking of Renata and her odd attitude. Joan and her seemed like good friends, perhaps she could help him...

Then he shook his head, was he really going through all this trouble for a women he barely knew?

Apparently, the answer was yes, because he found himself walking over to Joan.

"Ah, Nurse Redfern," he greeted politely, the woman nodding her greet, "Do you mind...if we talked?"

"About?" though Joan could already half guess the topic of their conversation.

"Your lovely friend, Renata Cartwright."

"Ah, what seems to be the problem?" she had to struggle to keep her smirk hidden. It was quite easy to see John had taken a liking to the blonde.

"I honestly don't know..." John sighed, "...she seems, alarmed. Like she's afraid of something. But I fear she may be upset with me."

"I'm sure you are imagining things, Mr. Smith," though when Joan got to thinking of the way Renata spoke to Martha, she did have to concede on the fact Renata was being a bit odd.

"I stopped by her home, tried to see if maybe I could apologize for whatever it was that I had done..." John blushed as he admitted his bold move, but he felt like he just had to go see Renata.

"And what happened?"

"She handed me my journal and sent me on my way."

"Mr. Smith, Renata hasn't had an easy life. She's an orphan, no parents nor siblings. They all died in some tragic accident. She married and became a widow with two children. Her suitors are limited as she tends to see to her children. Her friends are also very limited because of the bit of fear women have for her."

"Fear? How could they be afraid of such an innocent woman?"

Joan smiled softly, seeing John truly had a genuine affection for Renata, "Renata is quite beautiful, Mr. Smith," she watched his eyes drift to the side, probably thinking of the blonde at the moment, "Any man who's single tends to have a liking for her. The women all believe Renata is the, um...alpha woman," she chuckled to herself, "They fear of the top woman."

"Joan, can I call you Joan?" John asked, hoping to garner the woman's trust. Joan nodded, "Do you think you could help me? I would really like to talk to Renata. I heard she was going to the village later in the afternoon...do you think you could help me find her?"

"Of course," she smiled, "I was also headed for the village, perhaps you could accompany me and I could help find Renata."

"Thank you," John nodded fast, making Joan chuckle at his excitement, "Really, thank you!"

He would talk to Renata again and hopefully make amends for whatever he had done. He didn't know why but he had to continue seeing her, talking to her...he needed to.

~0~

"Mum, can I have a balloon?" Lucy asked her mother as the two walked down a street of the village.

"No, Lucy, what's the point?" Renata sighed, currently holding Lucy's hand while another held fruit for their dinner.

"But please? Mr. Lodge won't mind," Lucy gestured to the elderly man of the bakery shop, a few red balloons strung up front.

Renata sighed, knowing if she didn't abide Lucy would not let it go for quite some time, "Oh alright, but you ask nicely," Lucy nodded and scurried off to go get that red balloon. Renata sighed and looked down at her bag, noticing a few fruit were missing, "That's odd, I thought I bought apples..." she continued walking meanwhile she focused on counting the fruit in her bag.

In another part of the village, John Smith and Joan were walking together, both looking for Renata.

"Just search for a little girl and you'll find Renata," Joan was saying.

"I don't see any children, mind you, although..." John stopped walking at a glimpse of blonde. He leaned forwards, carefully focusing and realizing it was her! She was looking through a bag of some sorts, walking towards a shop building where two men were winching up a piano with a rope...the rope sling currently breaking...

"Where is she?" Joan searched, but John had become distracted, his eyes flickering from Renata to the piano and rope.

Renata was looking through her bag, mumbling to herself whether or not Lucy had snuck an orange or two when she hadn't been looking.

"No!" John snapped from his trance, snatching a cricket ball from a young boy near them and pitching it a bundle of spare scaffolding poles outside the ironmongers. The pole fell and hit a plank of wood with a brick on the end, making the brick fly up to the air over the piano just as the rope snapped and started hurtling towards the ground. The brick hit a milk churn on a cart and sent it falling into the path of Renata.

"What!?" Renata yelped as her feet hit the blocker and fell over, landing head-straight on the ground...the piano just barely missing her as it fell to the ground.

"Renata!" John quickly ran down the hill, Joan hurrying after. When they got near Renata, the two workers were currently trying to help her, but the woman was unconscious.

"Mummy?" Lucy poked her head out from the corner, gasping when she saw Renata on the floor, "Mummy!" she scurried over, on the brink of tears as her mother didn't seem to be waking up.

"It's okay, sweetie, it's okay," Joan took the crying girl into her arms.

John turned Renata's head to face her, the woman still unconscious, "Renata? Renata, wake up!"

"She's bleeding, John," Joan nodded to the top of Renata's head, her blonde hair tainted with a brilliant red, "I can help her, but we need to get to the school. The doctor of the town is away!"

John scooped Renata into his arms, hurriedly heading for the school, Joan following with a crying Lucy at her side.

~0~

"Is she going to be alright?" Lucy asked, her mother still unconscious as Matron Joan cleared up the cut on her head.

Renata was currently in the school's infirmary, Matron Joan working on her while John and Lucy awaited on the sides. Martha walked in, holding a tray of tea for the adults, a small plate of pieces of fruit for little Lucy. She wasn't on the best terms with Renata, but she didn't want her to be hurt either.

"Here you are," Martha set the tray on a small table.

"Are those peaches?" Lucy sniffled, turning to the table, "I like peaches."

Martha smiled, stepping back and allowing the girl to take some, "Go ahead."

"Well, she seems fine," Joan gave her declaration, "But I think we should give her some medication for the head?" she suggested, John immediately nodding. "We'll need to go back into town."

"And on the way, we could drop by Lucy," John glanced at the girl, "I think there was a nana, or someone that could care for her."

"Come around, Lucy," Joan said, gesturing for the girl to follow them.

"Martha, I trust you will watch over Miss Cartwright?" John asked.

Martha nodded, "Of course."

The trio left and Martha heaved a sigh as she moved beside the blonde. She looked around and found the medical bag of Matron Joan. She bit her lip, she really shouldn't...but this was a person in need of a doctor...and she had the obligation to help anyone in need. She picked up a stethoscope inside and put it on, glancing one more time at the doors in case anyone walked in. When she felt confident enough, she placed the stethoscope on Renata's chest, hearing a healthy heartbeat...

...and then she heard more.

With a confused expression, Martha moved the stethoscope to Renata's left side of her chest...

...there was a second heartbeat.

Martha's eyes widened, moving the stethoscope again in case she was imagining it.

There was still another set of heartbeats.

Two.

Martha removed the stethoscope and stared at Renata in utter shock. That's when she noticed Renata was wearing a long necklace hanging to her stomach. It was in the shape of a light green crystal...

~0~

Renata groaned as she came back to life, her eyes slowly opening, "What...what's going on..."

John, who at the last moment preferred to remain in the infirmary room with Renata - deciding Joan could return Lucy home and find the medication afterwards - set down his journal with pen on a table nearby and stood up fast, "It's okay, it's okay," he set a hand on Renata's arm, "Don't try to move so fast."

"What happened?" Renata shut her eyes at the sharp throb she felt on her head.

"You had an accident at the village. Matron Joan and I brought you back to the school."

"Did she check my heartbeat?" Renata immediately sat up.

"Um, no, the injury was on your head," John quickly answered, alarmed something felt wrong in her heart.

"Oh," Renata put a hand on her head and winced, "Yes, I see. And Lucy?" alarmed, she tried getting off the bed too fast and became dizzy.

Before her legs gave out, John caught her by the waist, "Gotcha. And don't worry about Lucy or Sebastian, it's all been taken care of. You just take it easy," he smiled softly at her.

For a moment, Renata met his eyes and felt herself blush at their closeness. When she caught herself, she shook her head and sat back on the bed, swatting away John's hands, "I'm fine, I'm fine," she assured and looked away. She noticed the John's open journal and caught a glimpse of a sketch, "What were you doing?" she grew curious.

"Hm?" John caught her gaze on his journal and stiffened, "Oh, um...I was sort of...well you see..."

Renata gave him a look before reaching over for the journal, unaware of the bright blush John suddenly sported. Renata took a look at the sketch, her eyes half-widening, "Oh..." she started to smile, "...you drew me, it's nice," she looked up at the Doctor, surprising the man how her attitude changed once more.

"Thank you," he let a smile escape his lips. He moved closer to her to see his sketch of her on his journal, "I thought it may serve to help your anger with me...perhaps lower it..."

Renata's smile faded at those words, feeling shame for making him feel at fault of something he probably couldn't even remember. But even if he was himself, he probably would've said it hadn't been completely his fault either and that she was also to blame. Renata looked at him and sighed, "I'm not angry, John. I just don't think we should talk to each other..."

"But why?" John frowned, actually feeling his heart ping at her hurtful words, "What have I done? Tell me so I know how to fix it."

Renata let the journal fall to her lap as she looked at him again, "You've not done anything-"

"Then why do you treat me like this? The first time we met, we talked like friends, normal...happy," he looked down, "...now you barely even want to direct a word to me."

Without thinking, Renata reached to touch his cheek, making him flinch at the contact, "I'm sorry," she whispered, "This is all just...too...new," she supplied the word for 'difficult'. She figured for the human version of the Doctor she had in front of her she could downplay the entire situation.

"New?" John raised an eyebrow, feeling a bit of hope all of a sudden.

If all this arose out of things being too 'new' then it meant he hadn't done anything to anger her. It was simply because she was widowed and thought something between him and her was new for her, seeing as Joan had said that Renata had never actually paid attention to any man's feelings. Now, he didn't know what exactly was going on with him concerning Renata but all he knew was that he didn't want her to be angry with him. He wanted her to be close, to be...with him.

Renata swallowed and nodded, letting him believe it, "I'm not...I'm not used to any of this, so...I'd rather not get further into it."

"Why not? Why don't you let us get to know each other, hmm?" John took her hand from his face and gave it a kiss, stunning Renata and making her blush, "How about you accompany me to the village dance this evening as my guest?" Renata's eyes widened at the proposal, "We can talk, we can get to know each other...?"

Renata looked at their hands that were still interlocked, "I don't..."

"Give me this one opportunity, yeah?" John insisted, even surprising himself on how big his determination was to get the woman to let them be friends.

"She accepts!" a different voice spoke from the doorway, the pair looking over to see Matron Joan standing with a cheery smile, "Renata most definitely accepts, John," she hurried on up.

"I...but I didn't," Renata began to say but Joan had other ideas.

"She's been talking nonstop of that dance," Joan continued, putting down the bag of medicine she brought back from the town. "I can guarantee she'll be more than happy to accompany you."

"Really?" John looked at Renata with so much hope it made Renata feel like she'd be a monster for saying no.

"Sure," she finally said, her voice a whisper.

John smiled from ear to ear, feeling like his heart was about to burst within his chest, and though that was something new he didn't pay attention to it because Renata had accepted his invitation, "Great, very, very great," he reached for Renata's hand and kissed its back, "Tonight, then..."

"I'll drop her off with you," Joan offered, nearly giving herself her own applause at what she managed to do. Renata had never accepted any sort of invitation from a man, not even a simple conversation! Now she had made Renata accept an invitation for a dance with a man who genuinely seem to like her.

"You will?" Renata looked at her for that one, she'd like to see her children first.

"Of course," Joan laughed, "How's about seven, John?"

"Perfect," he nodded as he looked at Renata, "Is that alright with you?"

She sighed and nodded, "Yeah," there was no way back from that one anymore. She'd have to go with it and hopefully not get into trouble this one time...

~ 0 ~

Martha Jones was inside the TARDIS, frantically going through the Doctor's pre-recorded video he'd left for her before turning human. He left her all sorts of messages and warnings, ridiculous things as was his style. She kept searching and searching through the video, hoping there was one bit she had perhaps missed about...women.

But in the end, she came up with nothing and stopped the video, heaving a heavy sigh, "This is no good. What about the stuff you didn't tell me, what about women? Oh no, you didn't think of that. What in hell am I supposed to do then? Huh?" she paused and took a long breath, "Another Time Lord...bet you didn't think of that one, hm?" she frowned, "Another Time Lord hiding in the 1913...what am I supposed to do now?"

The near shut-down TARDIS gave a hum that Martha guessed was a cheerful one...for a box, anyways. She looked around, "What do I do?" she called, expecting some sort of sign from the box. She knew the Doctor had put it on some sort of emergency setting, the box was still powered on but no real abilities were in its reach at the moment, "What do I do? Do I...bring her here? Do I tell the Doctor about this...granted, by the way he's taken a liking to her I think he'll figure it out pretty soon," she muttered, not too pleased with that fact. Of course, out of all the women the Doctor could've fallen for he had to go and find a miracle, another Time Lord, to be with.

Question was, though, why did Renata want them to leave without her?

~ 0 ~

"I cannot believe you're making me do this," Renata huffed as Joan went through her wardrobe inside her room.

"Oh do calm down, it's not the end of the world," Joan absently remarked while she pulled out a dress, checking Renata to see if it would fit.

Joan had brought Renata to her room in order to get ready for the dance that night. Joan knew that if she let Renata out of her sight the blonde could possibly break things in the form of an excuse like a head ache or something.

"I should be with my children," Renata stood up from the chair she had been sitting in.

"I brought Sebastian back to the house with Elena to look after Lucy," Joan reminded, "I assured all three that you would be fine but that you would be a bit late for supper tonight."

"This isn't right," Renata shook her head, catching a glimpse of the new dress Joan had taken out.

"And why not?" Joan turned around, holding her dress out for Renata to check.

Renata eyed the dark purple dress with a sigh, "I can't..."

"I understand, believe me, I'm also widowed, remember?" Joan went to set the dress on her bed, "It's hard to get over your husband's death, but it's been years for you now."

"It's been some time for you too you know," Renata crossed her arms.

"Yes, but I'm not the one avoiding nearly every man that walks in your direction," Joan countered, "I think it's about time you took a chance."

"A chance," Renata quietly repeated, rolling her eyes and shaking her head, turning away from Joan as she thought of the last time she was told to take a 'chance', "I'm not good with chances..."

"Then let me help," Joan reached for Renata's hand and brought her to the dress she had picked out for the blonde, "This can be a very lovely night for you. John seems very nice, a bit distant and distracted sometimes but nonetheless harmless. Plus, it's no secret he's rather handsome," she chuckled when she noticed Renata blushing with an almost ashamed face, "That's what I thought. So," she clapped her hands, "How's about we get you ready?"

With nothing else to do, Renata nodded and allowed Joan to help her get ready for the night.

~ 0 ~

At seven o'clock Renata had promptly showed up in John's room to attend the village dance, and if she admitted to anyone she would say was more than nervous of this whole plan. She didn't want to be there, she shouldn't be there...she should stay away from the Doctor and his companion, she should remain in hiding and wait for them to leave and never come back. She should do that...she should...so why couldn't she make her feet walk out of the Doctor's room?

"You look wonderful," John remarked, feeling his breath leave him at the sight of Renata in her gown.

Renata did her best not to show her blush, "Thank you," she politely said. She looked around the room as her blush faded, noticing something missing over the fireplace.

"Shall we get going, then?" John saw her getting quiet and that was something he was determined not to let happen at all for the night.

"Yes," Renata nodded, allowing him to link arms with her.

However, as they went for the door, Martha burst inside with a heavy breath as if she'd been running for hours, "They've found us!" Renata stiffened, though John didn't seem to notice it.

"Martha," he began in his scolding tone.

"They've found us, and I've seen them- they look like people, like us, like normal," Martha went straight up to Renata, the blonde growing more and more nervous, "I don't know what to do except make him open the watch!" she figured if the Doctor wasn't around then the next best thing would be the second Time Lord around...Renata.

"I...I don't..." Renata looked at John with wide eyes, her breathing picking up as she thought of the many ways she could be caught by him and the enemy.

John misunderstood her emotions for that of a fearful woman being attacked by his maid, "Martha! This is ridiculous!"

"Oh my god, where's it gone?" Martha had noticed the gob watch was missing on the mantle piece, "Where's the watch?"

"What are you talking about?" John pulled her away from the mantle and Renata.

"You had a watch, a fob watch. Right there!"

"Did I? I don't remember."

"But we need it..." Martha was in full-blown franticness, "Oh my god, Doctor we're hiding from aliens, and they've got Jenny and they've... possessed her or copied her or something and you've got to tell me, where's the watch?"

"Martha..." Renata swallowed hard.

"Cultural differences," John shook his head and went over to a desk where his journal was, "It must be so confusing for you. Martha, this is what we call a story," he returned and waved the journal.

"Oh you complete..." Martha rolled her eyes, "This," she pointed at him, "is not you. This is nineteen thirteen!"

"Good," John slowly said as he nodded, "This is nineteen thirteen."

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry but I've got to snap you out of this," she took a breath before she slapped him hard across the face.

Stunned, Renata looked between the pair with wide eyes, "Oh my Lord," she covered her mouth.

"Wake up! You're coming back to the TARDIS with me!" Martha exclaimed as she took John's arm and tugged him towards the door.

"How dare you!?" he angrily shouted, "I'm not going anywhere with an insane servant! Martha, you are dismissed, you will leave these premises immediately. Now get out!" he used the grip she had on his arm and dragged her to the door, throwing her out and shutting the door.

Renata felt bad for the woman, even if she wasn't really friends with Martha. She could only assume the Doctor had placed Martha as his caretaker while he was human. Heaven knows the job of looking after him is terrible and nerve-wrecking...and a total nightmare. For that same reason, Renata had turned to the mantelpiece to search for the missing fob watch, hoping Martha had just missed it and was it hiding underneath other objects.

"Renata, you don't have to clean up after that insane servant," John came over and took the blonde away.

"Clean up?" Renata blinked as the excuse settled in her mind, "Right, clean up..." she looked at the mantle-piece with concern as she now knew that the fob watch was indeed missing.

"I'm terribly sorry for this," John sighed, "There goes my attempt to make this a good night for you."

Renata stopped and looked at him with a small smile, touched he was trying so hard for someone who didn't even deserve it, "I think you're doing fine, poor Martha just had a bad dream or something..."

"What ever the case is, she is completely fired," he shook his head, doing his best to keep his anger down as this was an important night for him. He instead linked arms with Renata and led her to the doors, determined to give her that good night that would hopefully lead to some type of friendship and maybe more.

~ 0 ~

Once at the dance, Renata took a look at the room in hopes of finding Martha again. She knew for sure Martha would be making some type of reappearance to get the Doctor to believe her. She just wished Martha would come to her first so she could help and keep her out of trouble, although if Martha was the companion of the Doctor she was sure Martha was more than used to the trouble that came with the Doctor.

"Would you care for a dance?" John brought her out of her thoughts, making her see he was holding a hand for her with a very sheepish smile on his face.

"Of course," Renata wasn't entirely sure it would lead to something good. She really shouldn't be doing any of this...and yet there she was. As the music started, the pair started to dance, "You can dance," Renata blurted without thought, quietly gasping afterwards. Oh, she really needed to learn how to keep her mouth shut.

"I surprised myself," John chuckled, of course as if fate was against him they crashed into another dancing pair, "Sorry," he apologized quietly, embarrassed, but then saw Renata smiling at him and suddenly nothing was wrong anymore.

After dancing a couple of songs, Renata wished for a break and so they found themselves a table. While John excused himself for some drinks for them, Martha reappeared. She marched up to Renata, looking none too pleased. "Well, you sure seem comfortable," she plopped down across the table.

Renata sighed, "It's not my fault you went insane earlier. There were plenty more options before you had to go all frantic."

"Well, I only went frantic because the one person who was supposed to be helping me was going on a date with the man she said she wanted nothing to do with," Martha sourly spat.

"I'm only here because my friend made me," Renata leaned on the table.

Martha scoffed, "Oh, please."

"It's not my fault you're in love with him and he's not in love with you," Renata snapped and made Martha go silent, "Do you know how hard I worked on this stupid perception filter?" she gestured the necklace around her neck, "I made this just so the Doctor wouldn't find me nor sense me as a Time Lady. I even went back in time to a boring ole year so that he wouldn't ever find me. Do you honestly think I'm happy right now?"

Martha was silent as she studied the blonde woman, having to admit that she really didn't look very happy at the moment. But something in Renata's eyes told her that deep down there was something Renata wasn't telling her, something important that concerned the Doctor.

"I checked the mantle-piece and you're right, it's missing," Renata continued with a small sigh, "Someone took the watch and since the aliens searching for you just tried attacking you, I'm gonna go on a limb and say one of the humans has it."

"But who?" Martha questioned as she looked around, unable to think of anyone who'd want a teacher's fob watch.

"Oh, now really, Martha. This is getting out of hand," John had returned with the drinks for him and Renata in hand, "I must insist that you leave."

Martha stood up and held out his sonic screwdriver, "Do you know what this is?" she questioned, waving it at him, "Name it. Go on, name it."

Renata quietly stood up and took the drinks from his hands, placing it on the table, "You wrote about it..." she tried to discreetly help Martha without being caught.

"You're not John Smith. You're called the Doctor. The man in your journal, he's real. He's you," Martha watched John as he took the screwdriver and turned it around, intently studying it.

A middle-aged man, Clarke, entered the room with a gun in hand as he knocked over a hat stand, making people panic and move away, "There will be silence! All of you!" he ordered as the scarecrows filed in after Baines and Jenny, "I said silence!"

The trio turned around to see the dancefloor overtaken by the scarecrows and the humans-possessed-by-aliens. The announcer of the dance walked up to Clarke, "Mr Clarke! What's going on?" the answer was the gunfire he received, dissolving into nothing.

"Mr Smith, everything I told you, just forget it! Don't say anything," Martha snatched the screwdriver from him and put it away.

"We asked for silence! Now then," Baines turned to face the trio, "We have a few questions for Mr Smith."

"No, better than that," a little voice, very familiar, strode through the crowds of people with her red balloon tied to her wrist, "The teacher. He's the Doctor. I heard them talking."

Renata stumbled back, nearly falling if John hadn't caught her, "L-Lucy..." her eyes widened, "...what are...what's..." she glared at the others, "What did you do to my daughter?"

"All gone," little Lucy tilted her head, "I took the body, don't you see?" she opened her arms.

Renata covered her mouth and stifled a shriek of horror, "N-no! NO!"

"You took human form," Baines observed John who was tending to the trembling blonde he had in his arms.

"Of course I'm human, I was born human!" John spared him a glance as he tried calming Renata, "As were you, Baines. And Jenny, and you, Mr Clarke! What is going on, this is madness!"

"And a human brain, too! Simple, thick and dull. "

"He's no good like this," Jenny frowned.

"We need a Time Lord," Clarke stepped forwards.

"Easily done," Baines raised his gun and aimed it at John, the crowd gasping at the action, "Change back," he ordered.

John stepped in front of Renata and frowned, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I literally do not know-"

Jenny snatched Martha from the side and held a gun to her head, making Martha scream and try to wiggle out of the grip on her, "Get off me!"

"Leave her alone," Renata stepped around John, her eyes locked on Lucy, "Leave everyone alone, don't you get it? There's no...Time Lords around," she had to be cautious with what she was saying. One word and she could release her true identity to them all.

"She's your friend, isn't she?" Jenny ignored the orders of the blonde and looked at John, "Doesn't this scare you enough to change back? "

"I don't know what you mean!" John shouted frantically as he thought of some way to help Martha. Even if she'd been fired he didn't want her to be harmed, and much less because of him.

"Take her," suddenly, Lucy had pointed to Renata, "That old nanny was so excited about my 'mummy' going to the dance with Mr. Smith..." she smirked.

"Lucy," Renata tried reaching for her, her head jumbled when it came to her surrogate-daughter, "Please...stop this."

"Renata, no!" John reached for her but was too late, Clarke had snatched her away.

"Get off me!" Renata angrily ordered.

"Have you enjoyed it, Doctor? Being human?" Clarke smirked as he held the gun to Renata's head, "Has it taught you wonderful things, are you better, richer, wiser? Then let's see you answer this. Which one of them do you want us to kill? Maid or Mother? Your friend - or your lover? Your choice."

"Make you decision, Mr Smith," Jenny urged as the man had fallen silent.

"Perhaps if that human heart breaks, the Time Lord will emerge," Baines added, lowering his gun from John a moment.

"ENOUGH!" Renata screamed and swiftly elbowed Clarke in the stomach, jabbing her elbow with all her Time Lady strength, and stole the gun from his hand, "Put down the guns, all of you," she aimed it at Jenny.

"Time Lord..." they heard the hushed voice from across the room.

"It's him!" Baines turned and scanned the area from which the voice had come through, enough of a distraction for Renata to snatch his gun as well.

Both guns were now aimed on Jenny, a look of fury in Renata's eyes, "Let her go, right now, or I shoot," she warned.

"Renata..." John was stunned to see an entirely new side of her.

"Oh, the mother is full of fire," Baines smirked.

Renata moved one of the guns and fired on the floor next to his right foot, making everyone shriek and Baines jump to the side, "Want to comment again, school boy? Don't forget in what body you stand in," she snapped, and aimed the other gun at Jenny again, "Don't forget where you all stand," she looked at the entire group, "You need those bodies to survive and if I happen to shoot at one of your pesky little hearts then it's game over. Put. The. Gun. Down," she gritted her teeth and narrowed her eyes at Jenny, "Or I will shoot all of you dead, and don't think I wouldn't."

Jenny looked at the others who gave her a small nod. She finally lowered the gun and let Martha go, the woman scurrying back to the Doctor. Renata kept the guns on each side of the group, never looking at Jenny or she'd lose that boldness.

"Doctor, get everyone out. There's a door at the side," Martha urged the Doctor to start moving but he was frozen as he stared at Renata, "It's over there. Go on!"

"Do it, John!" Renata joined, "I mean you!"

"Do what she said. Everybody out now," came Matron Joan from the crowd as she motioned for some of the people to begin moving, her eyes also locked on Renata, a new person for her in reality, "Don't argue, Mr. Jackson. They're mad. That's all we need to know. Susan, Miss Cooper, outside, all of you!"

"Move yourself, boy. Back to the school, quickly," John finally started to move.

"Miss Cartwright, you as well," Martha quietly said, knowing the Doctor would never forgive her if she allowed another of his kind to get killed on her watch.

"Get out, right now!" Renata shouted as she gave the other, making Martha flinch, "All of you, NOW!"

Martha then quickly hurried John and Joan out of the room, glancing back at the blonde one last time before heading out herself. When alone, Renata lowered the guns, "You killed my daughter, where is my son and my friend?"

"Must you ask?" Lucy shook her head, "Stupid, just like all the other humans..."

Renata gave a small cry, her eyes tearing up, "I lost again..." she whispered, "...my baby," she shook her heads, "Oh, my Lucy...I am so sorry..." she backed away, letting the guns drop on the floor as she hurried out of the room.

She ran out of the building to see John, Martha and Joan standing there, as if waiting for her, "What the hell are you still doing here?" she stopped in front of Martha, "I gave an order-"

"I wasn't going to leave without you," John cut her off and moved up to her, still in awe of the whole matter, "What was all that?" he gestured to the building, "You and the..."

"I had a husband," Renata made the excuse that popped into her head first, "Of course I learned to defend myself, now run!" she took his hand and ran back towards the school, Martha and Joan going after them.

Breathless, the group arrived at the school where John immediately closed the wooden doors and hurried to the front hall and rang a bell, waking up the entire place.

"What're you doing?" Martha's eyes widened as she heard the nearing footsteps of the students.

"Maybe one man can't fight them, but this school teaches us to stand together," he declared, "Take arms! Take arms!"

"You can't do that!"

"You want me to fight, don't you? Take arms! Take arms!"

"I say sir, what's the matter?" one of the students, Hutchinson, stopped by John, still sleepy.

"Enemy at the door, Hutchinson. Enemy at the door. Take arms!"

Renata and Martha watched as the students began loading machine guns and several other weapons. Renata racked her head for anything she could do to help and keep the boys away from the enemies but she had nothing, really...nothing. There was an old vortex manipulator she hid but the thing was so wonky it shorted out the moment she attempted to use it. She doubted it would work now.

"You can't do this, Doctor. Mr. Smith!" Martha was following John around frantically.

"Maintain position over the stable yard," he was ordering one of the nearby students.

"They're just boys! You can't ask them to fight!"

"Faster now! That's it," John hurried for the boy off.

"They don't stand a chance!"

"They're cadets, Miss Jones," John paused a moment to explain the obvious, "They are trained to defend the King and all his properties."

"What in thunder's name is this?" the headmaster had arrived, very irritated for all the commotion, "Before I devise an excellent and endless series of punishments for each and every one of you, could someone explain very simply and immediately exactly what is going on?"

"Headmaster, I have to report the school is under attack," John moved over to the man.

"Really? Is that so? Perhaps you and I should have a word in private."

"I promise you, sir. I was in the village with Mrs. Cartwright. It's Baines, sir. Jeremy Baines and Mr. Clark from Oakham Farm. They've gone mad, sir. They've got guns. They've already murdered people in the village. I saw it happen."

"Mrs. Cartwright, is that so?" the headmaster glanced at the silent blonde.

"Um..." Renata blinked, "...yes, I'm afraid so..."

"Murder on our own soil?"

"Yes," Renata closed her eyes as more tears threatened to spill, just thinking about the triple losses she now had on her arms.

"Perhaps you did well then, Mr. Smith," the headmaster acknowledged, "What makes you thing the danger's coming here?"

"Well, sir, they said, um..." John couldn't find the right words.

"Baines threatened Mr. Smith, sir. Um, said he'd follow him," Matron Joan entered the place now wearing her uniform, "We don't know why."

"Very well," the headmaster nodded and turned to the nearby students, "You boys, remain on guard. Mr. Snell, telephone the police. Mr. Philips, with me. We shall investigate."

Martha stepped in front of the headmaster before he got any further, "No, it's not safe out there."

"Mr. Smith, it seems your favorite servant is giving me advice. You will control her, sir," the headmaster snapped and left.

Martha sighed, casting a glare at Renata for allowing this to happen, "I've gotta find that watch," she hurried out of the room.

~ 0 ~

With a murder happening in front of the headmaster, all war was declared on Baines and the others. Renata felt completely useless as she saw all the boys gathering up the weapons and setting positions for them. It was all to bloody and war-like, just like the Time War...and she wanted no memory of that period. But then she kept thinking about the loss she now had, a loss much too familiar like the ones in the war.

"Renata, Matron," John walked up to the two women, knowing Joan was trying to comfort Renata for the loss of her children, "It's not safe here, for either of you."

"I'm here for my responsibilities," Joan gestured to her uniform, "And you can't exactly send Renata out there on her own, can you?"

"Of course not," John took Renata by the hands and moved her away from Joan, taking a deep sigh before he spoke, "Renata, I'm really sor-"

"Don't," she cut him off with teary eyes, "Please don't."

"This is not the evening I was hoping to have with you," he admitted earnestly, pushing a strand of her blonde hair from her face.

"Believe me, it's not the one I was envisioning either," she shook her head, "But what's happened has happened, and now we have to find that stupid watch."

"Oh, come now, don't tell me you believe that," John frowned, "I'm not...I'm not that Doctor, Martha assures me to be."

"Yeah?" Renata raised an eyebrow, knowing exactly how the Chameleon arch worked, "So then tell me where you grew up in, hm?"

"Nottingham?"

"Yeah, tell me about it," Renata crossed her arms, knowing all she would hear were facts.

"Well, it lies on the River Leen, its southern boundary following the course of the River Trent which flows from Stoke to the Humber."

"Do you hear yourself? That's like an encyclopedia. Where did you live?"

"Broadmoor Street, adjacent to Hotley Terrace in the district of Radford Parade."

Renata sighed and let her arms hang loose on her sides, "Don't you see? You're an intelligent man, you know Martha is saying the truth. When you were a child, where did you play? All those secret little places...dens and hideaways that only a child knows? I challenge you to tell me all that..." but of course, no answer could be given.

"How can you think that I'm not real? Do you dislike me this much?"

"I don't hate you, I told you that," Renata took his hands and gripped them, "I'm just...looking into the facts before me, and they all concur..."

"But this Doctor sounds like some...some romantic lost prince. Would you rather that?"

"I'm not really into the whole fairy tales," Renata bitterly laughed, "Believe me, if you knew my story it'd be that of the cursed ones."

"There's not time for this," John sighed, "I've got to go."

"N-n-n-no, hold on," Renata latched onto his hands again before he could leave, "I read your journal, and if there's one thing you and the Doctor would agree on is that the children shouldn't be fighting. You know it's wrong..."

"Mr. Smith, if you please!" they heard the headmaster call from outside.

"What choice do I have?" John gripped her hands, swallowing hard.

"Someone told me, a long time ago, that we always have a choice," Renata bit her lip, "And believe me when I say I regret not making that choice. Don't do the same mistake I did...do what your heart is telling you to," she let go of his hands and stepped back.

John couldn't understand where those words were coming from. He let go of her hands, replaying the words in his mind as he hurried out to join the others. Renata closed her eyes to release more tears.

"I do regret it," she whispered to herself with the broken voice of a broken woman.

~ 0 ~

"Stand to!" the headmaster gave the order as the scarecrows pounded on the door ahead of them. The boys, including John, were set up with aimed guns at the door in the school's courtyard, "At post!"

"Enemy approaching, sir," a boy announced.

"Steady! Find the biting point," the headmaster ordered just as the wood bar on the gate cracked apart and let the scarecrows file in, "Fire!"

Everyone, except John, fired at the scarecrows, making them go down like a pack of dominoes. John could not find it in himself to move his fingers and begin to shoot. Renata's words continued to replay in his mind over and over. Right now...his heart was telling him to get all those boys out of danger and the guns.

"Cease fire!" the headmaster walked to the bodies and checked them, coming to a shocking revelation, "They're straw. Like he said. Straw!"

"The no one's dead, sir?" Hutchinson asked John, sounding relieved, "We killed no one?"

"Stand to!" the headmaster returned to the barrage where the gun's were as the sound of footsteps neared the gate.

From inside the building, Renata felt her blood go cold as she saw Lucy coming inside, skipping with her red balloon. She dashed off to the doors, ignoring the calls from Martha and Joan.

The headmaster recognized Lucy and quickly moved for the girl, "Lucy, come out of the way. Come into the school. You don't know who's out there. Where is your mother? And brother? Come here. Come to me."

"Headmaster, stay away from her!" Renata ran out into the courtyard, "Don't go near her."

"What in God's name are you saying, woman?" the headmaster glared at her, "This is your daughter!"

"She was my daughter," Renata swallowed as she glanced at the girl, "My Lucy is gone...some sort of entity has taken her body over. That's not my daughter anymore. John," she looked over at him for some help.

"She was-she was with-with Baines in the village," he still stuttered to speak easily.

"Mr. Smith, I've seen many strange sights this night but there is no cause on God's earth that would allow me to see this child in the field of battle, sir," the headmaster glared at Renata, "And you, I'll have the authorities on you after this," he held a hand for Lucy, "Come with me."

"You're funny," Lucy chuckled.

"That's right. Now take my hand."

"So funny," Lucy's innocent tone disappeared as she pulled out a gun from her coat and shot the headmaster dead, "Now who's going to shoot me - any of you, really?" she eyed the boys and even Renata with a smirk.

"Put down your guns," John ordered the students, eyeing the swaying gun Lucy held .

"But sir, the Headmaster-" Hutchinson began to protest.

"I'll not see this happen. Not anymore," John declared and started to motion for them to go, "You will retreat...in an orderly fashion back through the school. Hutchinson, lead the way."

"But sir-"

"I said, lead the way."

"Lucy..." Renata tried going for her when Martha reached out and pulled her back.

"She's gone," Martha reminded the blonde, "Now let's go!" along with Joan, they pulled Renata away and started to run off.

Together, now with John, they helped the boys escape through the school stables. Once they finished, John kept insisting for the women to leave while he scavenged the school for any remaining boys. However, a dozen scarecrows intervened such search and made the entire group run off again. As they hurried through the outskirts of the woods nearby the school, they were able to hear Clarke calling out, "Doctor! Doctor!" the group stopped and looked through some bushes to see the Family with the TARDIS in possession, "Come back, Doctor. Come home. Come and claim your prize."

"Out you come, Doctor!" Baines joined the calls, "There's a good boy. Come to the Family."

"Time to end it now!" Jenny added with a laughter.

Martha glanced at John to see him staring at the blue box, "You recognize it, don't you?"

"I've never seen it in my life," he quickly declared.

"Do you remember its name?"

"You wrote about it," Renata added quietly, "I saw it, even Joan saw it," she looked at her friend who nodded in agreement, "The blue box. You dreamt of a blue box."

"I'm not-I'm John Smith. That's all I want to be," John's voice broke as he looked between them all, "John Smith, with his life...and his job...and his conquest for love," he ended quietly with a gaze on Renata, "Why can't I be John Smith? Isn't he a good man?""

"I'm sure he is," Renata began, only hurting him more without realizing.

"Why can't I stay?" he pleaded with teary eyes.

"Because we need the Doctor," Martha sighed in frustration.

"So what am I then, nothing? I'm just a story," before he could break down he ran off.

Renata bot her lip and looked between the Family and John, "You know...I could give myself up," she announced, "They won't care what Time Lord comes up, as long as it's just one."

"Renata, you're speaking like..." Joan blinked, receiving a look from Renata that made her gasp, "...you're not...no..."

"Surprise, I'm an alien too," Renata sighed, "Just please don't mention it to anyone."

"Renata, you know you can't do it," Martha earnestly looked at her, "It'll be chaos."

"I know," Renata muttered as she got up and ran after John.

Eventually, with no other place to go, Renata had to suck it up and face her fear...return home where she knew no one was waiting for her anymore. Her hand trembled as she pushed the door of the house, the door already been left opened by 'Lucy' she assumed.

"Renata, are you sure...?" John cautiously followed her in, knowing this would be a difficult moment for her.

"No, but it's the only option left," she swallowed hard as she looked around the dark, empty room, "Empty," her eyes teared up, "Elena...Sebastian, gone," she moved to the table where a teapot was placed in the center. She put a hand on it and closed her eyes as she felt the prickly coldness on her skin, "Stone cold..." she whispered, "...it's been quite some hours, then."

John couldn't take what he was seeing, "Renata..." he moved up to her and took her away from the table, "...I'm sorry," he hugged her tightly as she sniffled, "I'm really sorry for this," he swallowed hard and glanced at Martha and Joan, both watching them sadly, "I must go to them before anyone else dies."

"No, you can't," Renata quickly looked up before he even moved, "Not without that watch, you don't leave this house without that watch, do you understand?" she spoke fast with a trembling voice. She would not lose anyone else, especially not him.

"You're this Doctor's companion! Can't you help?" the Doctor asked Martha, "What exactly do you do for him? Why does he need you?"

"Because he's lonely..." Martha answered, her eyes drifting over to Renata, knowing that when/if the Doctor were to find out who Renata really was her tenure in the TARDIS would surely be over.

"And that's what you want me to become, then?" John frowned at her, unconsciously holding Renata tighter, the blonde not making a single effort to move away from him.

There was a knock on the door that startled everyone and as Martha went to answer it, Joan moved to follow, "What if it's them?"

"I'm not an expert, but I don't think scarecrows knock," Martha shot a small smile then opened the door to find young Timothy Latimer on the other side.

"I brought you this," he held out the fob watch to Martha, everyone then hearing a whisper from the watch calling out to the companion.

Martha snatched the watch and hurried to the Doctor, holding it out for him, "Hold it," she ordered.

"I won't," he backed away with Renata.

"Please, just hold it."

Timothy entered the house and closed the door before moving up with Martha, "It told me to find you. It wants to be held."

"You've had this watch all this time? Why didn't you return it?" Joan crossed her arms and gave the boy a scolding look, "It's important and you knew it."

"Because it was waiting. And because I was scared of the Doctor."

"Why?" Renata suddenly spoke up, frowning at the statement.

"Because...I've seen him. He's...like fire and ice and rage. He's like the night and the storm in the heart of the sun..."

"Stop it," John looked at the boy in horror.

But Timothy continued, a small smile spreading on his face, "He's ancient and forever. He burns at the center of time and he can see the turn of the universe."

"Stop! I said stop it."

"And he's wonderful."

The group stumbled on their feet with an explosion they heard from a distance. Afterwards, they ran to the windows to see meteorites falling to the ground.

"They're destroying the village," Joan gasped.

"Watch..." John looked down at the watch he held.

"Come closer," the watch whispered.

"Can you hear it?" Timothy wondered honestly.

"Closer. Closer."

"I think he's asleep..." John mumbled, growing distant, "Waiting to awaken."

"Why did he speak to me?" Timothy asked.

"Oh, low-level telepathic field. You were born with it," Renata was stunned to hear John talking in such a different voice, and yet one she knew just suited him so well, "Just an extra synaptic engram causing-" John was able to stop and take a deep gasp, returning to the human voice, "Is that how he talks?" he asked with terrible fear in his voice.

"That's him!" Martha exclaimed happily, "All you have to do is open it and he's back."

"You knew this all along and yet you watched while I..." John looked at Renata, unable to finish. She'd finally stepped away from him and turned for the window, staring out in pure silence.

"I didn't know how to stop you!" Martha rubbed the side of her head, frustrated, "He gave me a list of things to watch out for but that wasn't included."

"Women? Women weren't included?" John shook his head, "A conquest for love?"

"No."

"Then what sort of man is that? And now you expect me to die?"

Several more explosions continued on outside, rocking the house along with the others. Martha sighed and stepped up, "It was always going to end, though! The Doctor said the Family's got a limited lifespan. That's why they need to consume a Time Lord. Otherwise, three months and they die. Like mayflies, he said."

"So your job was to execute me, even better," John frowned.

"People are dying out there! They need him and I need him," Martha gestured to herself, "'Cause you've got no idea of what he's like. I've only just met him. It wasn't even that long ago, but he is everything...he's just everything to me and he doesn't even look at me, but I don't care...'cause I love him to bits. And I hope to God he won't remember me saying this."

"Yeah, you'll be sadly mistaken," Renata mumbled underneath her breath, only heard by Joan who was beside her.

"I should have thought of it before - I can give them this," John held the watch for Martha, "Just the watch. Then they can leave and I can stay as I am!"

"You can't do that," Renata turned around with a resigned expression on her face, "These aliens are dangerous and if they wanted an unlimited lifespan I can assume it won't be for good intentions. It would end in pure destruction...war," her voice cut off after the word and took a moment to be able to speak again, "War across the stars...for every child," she sighed and looked at Martha, "Leave, I need a moment with him."

Martha frowned at the tone of the blonde but figured if anyone could make John open the watch it would be her. She took Timothy and with Joan walked out the door. Renata felt awful for putting John on the spot like this, so when he broke down she took him into a hug. This time, she would be there for him.

~ 0 ~

A couple minutes later, Renata and John sat in front of a window, side by side, with John holding the watch in his hand. Renata was unsure if she should just go herself and deal with the aliens, but if she did that and the watch was ultimately opened, she would reveal her true identity. And if she didn't do something, then the aliens were sure to destroy the entire village.

"He won't feel the same way about you," John spoke in a quiet tone, snapping Renata out of her thoughts.

She looked at him with genuine wonder, "And what exactly do you feel for me right now?" she challenged.

"I can't explain it," he shrugged, a small smile spreading on his face, "You're a conquest, my conquest, for love. I've been here for two months and I spent it in dreams and whatnot, and then I meet you, and...suddenly I want to get to know you, I want to spend time with you...see where things could lead to."

"You got all that from two days?" Renata raised her eyebrows, not as surprised as she should've been.

"Yeah, I did," he came to terms with it with a bright smile, "You're very beautiful, and a bit stubborn..."

Renata looked down with a small smile, "An old friend once said the same thing," she admitted.

"And what did you say back?"

She looked at him, her smile spreading, "Shut up," they both chuckled afterwards.

"I...don't know what to do," John held the watch for her, growing serious once again.

"Your decision should be independent of what you 'feel' for me," Renata held quotation marks with her fingers, "Because I would never be with you," she knew those were harsh words she was uttering but she had to say, now if she could just mean them...

"...what?" John frowned, standing up and looking at her incredibly.

Renata sighed and looked up at him, "You heard me, didn't you? I can't be with you, I won't. So, you might as well open that watch," she gestured to his hand, "Because Doctor or no Doctor, I won't be with you. Ever," she looked away in hopes that after hearing those words he would do what was right without a regret.

And he would leave without ever looking back.

~ 0 ~

John stumbled into the ship of the Family holding out the fob watch in his hand, "Just..." he slipped and leaned against the wall, accidentally pushing several buttons, "Just stop the bombardment. That's all I'm asking. I'll do anything you want, just stop."

"Say please," Baines ordered.

"Please," John obeyed.

Jenny turned on a switch nearby and the ship hissed in respond, "Wait a minute," she took a deep inhale and frowned, "Still human."

"Now I can't - I can't pretend to understand, not for a second, but I want you to know that I'm innocent in all this," John fumbled and hit more buttons on the wall, "He made me John Smith. It's not like I had any control over it!"

"He didn't just make himself human, he made himself an idiot," Jenny rolled her eyes.

"Same thing, isn't it?" Baines smirked.

"I don't care about this Doctor and your family, I just want you to go. So, I've made my choice," John waved the watch for them, "You can have him. Just take it, please! Take him away."

"At last," Baines snatched the watch and gazed at it, his other hand grabbing John by the lapels, "Don't think that saved your life," he pushed the man away and laughed as he fell against the wall, never noticing more buttons had been pushed, "Family of mine, now we shall have the lives of a Time Lord," he opened the watch and with his family deeply breathed...only to realize, "It's empty!"

"Well, where's it gone?" John stood up.

"You tell me," Baines chucked the watch at him.

The Doctor caught it single-handedly and took a breath, speaking normally for him again, "Oh, I think the explanation might be you've been fooled by a simple olfactory misdirection-little bit like ventriloquism of the nose. It's an elementary trick in certain parts of the galaxy. But it has got to be said..." he slipped on his black-rimmed glasses on and looked at the walls full of buttons and controls, "I don't like the looks of that hydroconometre. It seems to be indicating you've got energy feedback all the way through the retrostabilisers feeding back into the primary heat converter-ah," he glanced at them with a hiss, "'Cause if there's one thing you shouldn't have done, you shouldn't have let me press all those buttons. But, in fairness, I will give you one word of advice: run!"

And so everyone did...but after the exploding ship there was an angry Time Lord to deal with.

~ 0 ~

Renata was sat on the couch with a stained face of tears, both her legs propped up with her arms over her knees. She was staring out the window to the eerie silent village across. She'd just finished sending Joan back with the promise she would eventually show up the next day to help with cleanups and explanations. She heard footsteps and the door opening, knowing there was only one person left that would return after everything.

"What did you do with her?" she gathered the courage to ask, though she still couldn't tear her gaze from the window.

"I don't think you need to know," the Doctor sighed and walked towards her.

"I need to," she swallowed hard, "That was my daughter..."

"No, that really wasn't," the Doctor bent down beside her, hoping to get her to look at him, "Your real daughter died hours ago, you don't need to know what happened anymore."

"Wouldn't you like to know?" she finally turned her head, knowing that question would puncture his hearts as it was simply the truth. Although she also knew that he would take it as a simple question, never guessing she was talking about his actual daughter, who most certainly died during the Time War.

"Yeah, I guess I would," the Doctor admitted with a small smile, "But that wouldn't change anything, would it?"

She didn't answer anymore and instead took a proper look at him, no longer 'John Smith' he had changed into what she assumed was his usual attire. Things had changed, most definitely, but through his eyes she could see that he was still that irritating, rule-breaking, adventurous man she used to know, "So this is you, then?" she broke the silence and moved to sit properly.

"Yeah," the Doctor nodded, still bent down. He held his hand for her with his usual bright smiles, "I'm the Doctor."

"I know," Renata quietly said and shook his hand, her gaze falling, "You don't have to come and give me a pity talk, you know?"

"This is not that," he frowned.

Renata sighed, "Isn't it? I lost my daughter, my son, my friend...what are you doing if not for that?" her eyes teared up again and so she stood up and walked away from him, "I'll be alright, if that's what you need to hear to be able to go in peace."

The Doctor stood on his feet, "Come with me," he offered. Flinching, Renata turned with wide eyes, "Travel with me and Martha."

"No," her voice shook, "I won't."

"Why not?" the Doctor couldn't help feel hurt by her quick answer, almost seeming like she hadn't even thought about it thoroughly.

"I meant what I said earlier," she walked up to him, earnestly looking at him, "I will not be with you, Doctor or no Doctor. So you can go," she gestured to the door, "And don't bother keeping a tab on me, I won't be staying here anymore."

"You hate me," the Doctor concluded with hearts broken, "...and with good reason," he mumbled.

"If I hated you would I have allowed you to fulfill John Smith's last parting wish?" she challenged, crossing her arms, "Would I have allowed you to enter my house again? I don't know how else to put it but I do not hate you...I just don't want to go with you. I can't."

"Why not, then? I'd like a fresh new start with you," the Doctor stepped closer to her.

"But it's not right!" she exclaimed, her tears spilling again as she shook her head, "Please, just go away, go away and never come back. I don't want you here, I want you to go!" she pointed at the door, sniffling, "None of this is right, just go! GO!"

The Doctor knew there was nothing left to do nor say to get her to come with him and so did as she wanted and left the house. Renata winced when the door was closed but felt free to cry as she wanted. She hugged herself and shut her eyes, instantly remembering the last time it had happened. She yelled in anger and pain as she swiped everything off the table, ending in loud sobs. She then stopped and looked over at the couch again, feeling even worse when she remembered...

Renata and the Doctor (still as John Smith) were sat on the couch side by side, still contemplating on the options they could take to defeat the Family. But each time the explosions went off, more and more closely, the Doctor winced and felt worse that more and more people were dying on his account. He looked over to Renata who was staring hard at the ground, just knowing she was thinking of her dead children...and so he felt even worse. He needed to do something to stop more deaths from happening and much more, to keep Renata safe.

"I have to open it," he concluded after a moment more of silence. Renata's head snapped up to him, "If I become the Doctor again then he'll know what to do...and he'll keep you safe," he reached for her hand and gripped it, "Something I've failed to do all night."

"None of this is your fault," Renata quietly said, eyeing the fob watch, "Not yours nor the Doctor's. It's those blasted aliens, the Family, they're to blame for all this."

"Can you promise me something?"

"Depends..."

"After this is over, you leave this place and be happy with someone, alright?"

"John, I can't..." Renata immediately shook her head, "...I have terrible luck, believe me-"

"You need to go and try to be happy," John pleaded her, "That's one of my last wishes before I..." he swallowed hard, "...go."

"One?" Renata raised an eyebrow, "What's the other one?"

"You'll have to forgive me, or...him," John set the fob watch down.

"Forgive you for wh-"

John had leaned in and kissed her. Renata's eyes widened with the action but slowly fell to the kiss, even leaning into his hand that had cupped the side of her face. Once John pulled away, the blonde wore a stunned, blushed, face, unable to believe it had just happened.

And yet...

Martha awaited by the TARDIS for the Doctor, now changed back to her modern clothes as well. The Doctor gave a small smile as he approached her, "All right. Molto bene!"

"How was she?" Martha asked, a bit surprised that the blonde wasn't with them, "Did she tell you-"

"Time we moved on," the Doctor cut her off with a grim tone.

"But did she tell you she's a-"

"Time we moved on."

Martha instantly knew that Renata had not confessed to the Doctor she was a Time Lady. He would never just let the only other of his kind to stay back in 1913, on the brink of a war. But she couldn't exactly tell him something that wasn't her secret to tell, "I meant to say back there, last night..." she chose to obey and move on, "I would have said anything to get you to change."

"Oh yeah, of course you would," the Doctor quickly nodded, "Yeah."

"I mean, I wasn't really-"

"Oh, no, no," the Doctor waved it off.

"Good."

"Fine."

"So here we are then," Martha coughed, embarrassed.

"There we are, yes," the Doctor gave her a hug, "And I never said thanks for lookin' after me."

"Doctor, Martha," Timothy approached them.

"Tim-Timothy-Timber," the Doctor turned to greet the boy.

"I just wanted to say good-bye. And thank you, because I've seen the future and I now know what must be done," Timothy sighed, "It's coming, isn't it? The biggest war ever."

"You don't have to fight," Martha pointed out.

"I think we do."

"But you could get hurt."

"Well, so could you, travelling around with him, but it's not going to stop you," Timothy countered and crossed his arms.

"Tim, I'd be honored if you'd take this," the Doctor handed over his fob watch.

"I can't hear anything," Timothy made a face after trying to hear something.

"No, it's just a watch now. But keep it with you. For good luck."

"Look after yourself," Martha gave the boy a hug and a kiss on the cheek before heading inside the TARDIS.

"Can I ask a favor of you, Timothy?" the Doctor remained at the doorway of the TARDIS.

"Anything," he nodded.

"Renata, em - Mrs. Cartwright," the Doctor quickly corrected himself, "Look after her, please," he honestly pleaded, "Persuade her to go, to leave England...she has to leave before next year."

Timothy nodded again, "I will try my best, Doctor, I promise."

The Doctor acknowledged it and lightly smiled, "You'll like this bit," he said and went inside the TARDIS.

Timothy blinked in awe as the TARDIS began de-materializing in front of him. Though from the inside, the Doctor was actually having a bit of trouble getting the box to fully leave the place, "What are you doing, old girl?" he frowned as he went around the console, flicking controls here and there, "We're leaving! Why don't you want to go?"

Martha remained at the chairs and swallowed hard, knowing exactly why the TARDIS was throwing a fit over their departure. It recalled there was another Time Lord, a Time Lady, one that should be here with them...but clearly wasn't and wouldn't be anytime soon.

#noblecrescentedit #10th doctor x oc #oc: Renata Cartwright #doctor who fanfic #10th Doctor imagine #doctor who #The Beginning of Everything #Martha Jones #John Smith #TARDIS #Doctor Who imagines

21 notes · View notes