#she's so deeply fucked in the head and it's her mom and trauma's fault and i forgive her for hurting sanji

[beanghostprincess]

As somebody with severe mommy issues I consider myself to be a Charlotte Pudding apologist because nobody except us understands how bad your mom can fuck up your brain to the point of doing everything she did

[mindibindi]

Sometimes Things Just Work Out

Re-watching season 24 of SVU and some shippy themes emerged post-"Blood Out" that I haven't seen commented on, at least on here. So as we all know, Blood Out (24.12) gives us this telling moment:

The VERY NEXT EPISODE, "Intersection" (24.13) opens with a pretty extended proposal scene for what is just the teaser. The couple is played by two very appealing actors who get to establish their history and exchange cute banter, and there are some definite Bensler undertones:

New York is also Elliot and Olivia's city, bringing them together the first time around to fight crime and reuniting them more recently. Their entire relationship has taken place within the city limits. Without it, Elliot might still be back in Italy (or Queens) with Kathy and Olivia would be a single mom with a solid career and 5-star therapy routine. You might think the comparison is a stretch....UNTIL Josh with the cute topknot turns to his wisecracking gf and says she taught him the most important lesson of his life, which is:

Josh proposes, Emma joyfully accepts. But in the car ride home, there is a touch of sadness to their happy moment as Emma invokes her recently deceased sister. In EO terms, this loss could be said to reflect the shadow of Serena Benson, who never got to watch her daughter marry, settle down and have a family with the love of her life. Emma also worries about losing her engagement ring, which she of course does, when disaster quite literally hits them.

I won't go into the crime, which is horrific, but Emma and Josh's reactions are also reflective of Olivia and Elliot. Olivia meets with Emma a couple of times, noting that they seem to love each other very much and assuring Emma that she and Josh will get through this trauma. At their second meet, they discuss the fact that Josh has ghosted Emma and SVU, which...I dunno about anyone else, but that sounds pretty fucking Elliot Stabler to me. Speaking about the loss of Emma's sister, Olivia fills in the blanks with this:

...which is interesting. It implies that Olivia has used that enormous, unhealed wound of Elliot's departure to dwarf and diminish subsequent traumas and, in particular, her assault at the hands of William Lewis. Much like she used her mother's neglect and ultimate abandonment to shield her from feeling the impact of the many professional and personal wounds she experienced during her tenure as Elliot's partner. By using these deep personal wounds, inflicted by the two people most important to her, most loved and formative, she can shield herself from incoming hurts that are less personal, less predictable and less familiar. If so, if holding onto those familiar, formative wounds acts for Olivia as some kind of strange protection, that simultaneously honours those she loves most, then that would explain her resistance to letting go of the hurt Elliot caused when he walked away. Hence, her not being ready for a relationship after two plus decades.

While Emma refuses to give in to the trauma of her attack, Josh, much like Elliot falls into self-pity and self-blame, distancing himself from his fiance:

This whole ep gives "Paternity" vibes, since the couple are hit in much the same way that Olivia and Kathy were, triggering Elliot's chronic catholic guilt. And as the case continues, there's a whole web of marital affairs, because we're working on a theme here. Another EO parallel emerges with Bruno's marriage breakup. After visiting his ex, it's revealed that he drunk-dialled her, only not really cos he wasn't drunk. You know, kind of like Elliot showing up drugged to Olivia's apartment to spill his long withheld, deeply smitten guts. Bruno knows the fault is his and holds out hope for a reconciliation, to which, Liv gives a qualified maybe:

So...Olivia believes in love when it's new and fresh, even believes love can survive massive trauma. Buuuuut she isn't quite so sure of how to change directions on a love that has been heading in one direction for a long time.

The case concludes with a tense confrontation between a cheating wife and her rapist husband: bitter accusations and droll comments ensue. But the happy couple from the beginning survive their trauma and vow to protect one another from then on. The lost engagement ring is returned to Emma (analogous perhaps to the compass necklace that will no doubt return to Olivia at some meaningful point in time). It is at this point that Liv tells them:

Well. That's quite the pivot.

Oh, but wait, Benson ain't done being hopeful about mending fractured relationships yet. Because then she turns to Bruno, who admits that (like Elliot) he wasn't unfaithful (to Olivia). He was just unreachable, unavailable, avoidant. It wasn't a lack of feeling. It was just a lack of action, a lack of courage. Olivia's reply echoes the hope Bruno expressed earlier:

All of this is highly suggestive of Liv either consciously or unconsciously working through what happened at the end of "Blood Out" with Elliot, her questioning her words to him and mulling over his reply. It reflects EO's recent history of fracture and hesitant attempts at mending, despite their counter-productive coping strategies. That last line certainly suggests that she wants to be won back by the love of her life, even if she isn't too sure how to let go of the hurt she's used as a shield for ten plus years. Her changing comments throughout the episode suggest she does believe in love, she believes it can survive the worst traumas imaginable. She has absolute conviction in the possibility, the right even, of victims, survivors and even detectives she barely knows to pursue love and healing, reconciliation and fulfillment. The question is whether she believes in that possibility as strongly for herself and Elliot Stabler.

[theboookwitch]

Love Next Door spoilers below (and ranting that is not friendly to Seunghyo's character so if you don't want to partake, scrolling is free)!

It's actually so annoying how there are so many dramas that people love and adore that I just can't be obsessed with due to being a 34 year old with a fully formed frontal lobe and at least a decade of being treated terribly by men lol

Like I wanted to be obsessed with Love Next Door. I genuinely enjoyed the first like 4 episodes. I need to start out by saying the acting is incredible and I would die for Mo-eum and the reporter and his daughter. I deeply related to Seokryu as a burnt out older daughter with a difficult relationship with her mom and all of her family's expectations. I loved that in the first 4 episodes you could see that yes, while they did bicker, the genuine friendship and care was still there. And I typically love a "he fell first" moment. BUT...here is where my issues come into play.

I cannot fucking stand when it's a friends to lovers story and the man falls first and then goes on to treat the FL like actual dogshit bc she's not living up to the expectations in his head. Like Seokryu does not know that Seunghyo likes her. She continues to treat him like he's her lifelong friend that she deeply cares about. And at every single turn, he is acting like a petulant child. You can say "ohhh but he does all this stuff for her when she's not looking! it's so cuteeeee." I don't care. To her face, he keeps telling her things like that she needs to grow up and leave the past behind. When she brings him the food she makes on the first day of class and he turns it down in such a mean way and then gets all pissed off and jealous when her ex eats her food? I was so annoyed. He had ten fucking years to tell her he liked her and yes...timing was off and things were fucked, but that doesn't mean you can treat someone like that who has no idea why you're behaving like that. She looks so hurt and confused. And he gets mad at her for everything and instead of being an adult and communicating or just idk having the thought of like "oh my crush is my fault I can't take it out on her" he continues to be a dick. Telling her she needs to move on and they can't be close or whatever like he wasn't the one who remodeled her room and moved back to his parents as soon as she came back to Korea. Like he wasn't the one who told her the time capsule letter was a joke.

Idk maybe bc I've had close guy friends before who like ended up treating me like shit bc I allegedly friend zoned them when I genuinely thought we were friends but they got it into their heads that I owed them sex bc we were friends...but I can't handle that shit. If you cannot get your shit together and confess or if you cannot get over your feelings and treat a woman with the same respect you'd treat any friend, then it's hard for me to root for you. Also like...y'all ever notice that when women have unrequited feelings, we don't tend to be assholes to the person we have the feelings for? Bc we don't automatically assume we deserve their love and attention?

Also, even before he finds out about her diagnosis, he knows that she's at least going through a massive break up, work burnout and quitting a job and also moving back home - like if he's allegedly her best friend...why does he treat her like that when she's going through it? If he loves her so much, how is he making this like super rough time in her life completely about him? I get it - he also has trauma and was raised with parents who do not talk and that I'm sure has informed his life. I understand. Truly. BUT!!! While trauma can be a reason for your actions, it is not an excuse to then go ahead and be a dick to people around you.

Also...his reaction to her diagnosis...once again making it about himself and his hurt? That is not the move. I don't care if he is scared and angry and hurt. I don't give a fuck about his feelings. SHE HAD CANCER!!!!!!! AND HER ALLEGED BEST FRIEND WHO LOVES HER CALLED HER PATHETIC!!!!!!! HELLO?????

If that happened to a friend of mine, I would hunt that man down and beat him to a pulp.

Once again, I will say that the acting is amazing. I love Jung Haein and Jung Somin. BUT when thinking of this stuff in reality, I just was getting so mad every episode. There are so many ways to get around or get over feelings without being an absolute asswipe.

Sorry I needed to rant bc I haven't seen one post of anyone thinking anything is wrong with his behavior. Just tons of posts talking about his feelings...weirdly enough, I've seen people call Seokryu selfish. Love how that happens.

Anyways, I'm gonna wait for the fanfic where Seokryu ends up with his ex and they live a beautiful lesbian life making beautiful pottery and beautiful food and beautiful love.

[sammy-witha-c]

tbh i’ll admit i’ve been putting off my relisten of dndads season 1 because i’m at henry’s arc and i vaguely remembered it being a bit slow even though i remember enjoying it a lot and. i am SO upset i put it off i’ve binged it all in one night and i have THOUGHTS LIKE...

GOD. henry’s character arc is so fucking good like. he came from this toxic, emotionally-abusive place, where over time it became more obvious to him that he didn’t belong. his dad was never proud. he was bullied regularly and then told HE was the problem. his mom, which he clearly loves very, very much, pulled away from him probably from a mixture of the abuse she herself was facing and the fact that henry reminded her of how messed up it all was too. she tried to KILL HIS DAD. which was justified but GOD it must have fucked with henry’s head like. there is something so painful about being raised in a toxic environment and then having the feeling that nothing changes even though you know it deeply should and dungeons and daddies nails it on the fucking head. 

so he finds this broken mirror, right? maybe he knows its purpose. maybe he doesn’t. maybe he wants to escape. maybe he just wants to make his dad proud. but he fixes it, eventually, because he’s smart, and then suddenly he doesn’t remember anything from before and he’s in this whole new fucking world. 

god. henry loves nature. henry loves earth. henry grew up surrounded by trees that were all the same and people who were all unfair and suddenly he was surrounded by so much beautiful diversity... he’s treated with love. the only thing he really remembers is he had a fight with his dad and they never talked again which is so??? he forgot everything except that his dad was bad news and that hurts me so much. he wants to know about his past but he also doesn’t. it’s so painful. i have the hc that henry didn’t forget for any magic reason, it was just him repressing his trauma. and it makes me so SAD man. 

and then his boys- the light of his life- are born. he loves them. he loves them so much it hurts. and they love him too, he thinks, and henry doesn’t know what the hell to do with that. his mom loved him but hated him at the same time. his dad was never proud, always saying henry was to blame. but now he’s got these two beutiful kids who he loves so fucking much and he’s so scared of screwing up. he’s so scared. 

henry comes back to the forgotten realms and he can do magic. he doesn’t know why but he can. henry find out his dad brought him here and he’s suddenly faced with repressed trauma he doesn’t want to remember. he loves his boys. he loves his wife. he needs to go home. he heads to oakvale. 

can you imagine how painful that must’ve been??? for him to visit this place where he never belonged and find he still doesn’t??? henry is such a forgiving and nice person. i have to imagine there was a part of him- however small- that thought, maybe it changed. maybe it’s okay now. but it isn’t, and nothing’s different, and henry’s just a kid again who can’t make his dad proud. 

and his boys are there. they’re saying they love him. henry is having a mental breakdown and they love him. henry has found out he doesn’t belong anywhere, actually, and they love him. 

he sees his mom. he loves his mom. she seems excited for a moment. it all goes dull. he loves his mom and she is telling him she was happier when he wasn’t here. he loves his mom and nothing’s right. 

they’re your grandchildren, he says. they’re you’re grandchildren. henry isn’t confident in himself- henry has a sort of hatred for himself, actually, because he was never shown to love the parts of him that were faults. but he’s confident in his children. he loves his children so fucking much. they’re a lot sometimes and they don’t listen but they’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him. they’re your grandchildren. be proud of me. they’re your grandchildren. mom- i love you. 

i don’t want to meet them, autumn yells. and henry finally understands the extent of which he will never. 

[thecountesstribe]

TRIGGER WARNING!!! SPOILERS AHEAD.

Alright all shit aside that scene with Nate and Cal was fucked up and scary. Some people interpretation of the situation was that Nate was SA by Cal and others interpretation of it was Nate seeing the tapes of Cal at such a young age warped Nate. I'm leaning more towards the second interpretation. Nate becoming the very thing he despises has got to be alot for him. Combine that with Cal and Marsha's fucked up parenting, Nate was bound to grow into a pos. Nate seeing himself as one of Cal's partners/victims was really sick.... I don't know how to put it into words, it makes sense in my head but I get why Nate is the way he is. Not excusing his behavior cause majority of us unfortunately have some kind of trauma and we chose to not to be pieces of shit. We go get therapy or roll up and sort that fuckin shit out. Victimizing people cause you were victimized yourself is not an excuse, if anything you're supposed to know better, but I get that it's not as black and white as it is. His parents failed him. Marsha purposely turning a blind eye was just as bad. She had to know what Cal was doing. What parent doesn't know their kid?!! This would never be a Nate sympathy/apologist blog but I just get it.

Now onto Maddy and Cassie.... I was really trying to empathize with Cass up until she fuckin slept with Nate but Cass is a really bad friend. The fact that Maddy loved, probably still does love Cassie, more than Nate and was more hurt over the fact that Cassie betrayed her was heartbreaking. Maddy confessing by the door that Nate put her through hell and Cassie still went ahead to live with him and was flaunting being with him during school was downright trifilin and disgusting. Maddy called Cassie her soulmate and meant that shit and when she said she would've never did that to Cassie, that hurt bro.

Am I the only one who doesn't trust Samantha.. idk something about her is off.

For all Mama Suze faults you can't say she doesn't love and support her daughters. Just hope she can heal so she could get her happy ending. She was so proud of Lexi, it had me gushing.

I'm glad to see Rue thriving and getting sober. Leslie needed to have that talk with Rue. She honestly would've killed herself trying to save Rue and it would've destroyed Gia in the end. Finally they're acknowledging Gia in this. That baby always gets the shitty end of the stick. This quote, "sometimes you have to let go of stuff or people that destroy us no matter how much you love them" resonates deeply with that conversation. Rue dragging down herself will in turn sink everybody around her whether she wants to or not. Idc how much people love the idea of Jules and Rue but Rue needs to stay away from her. Rue and Jules aren't good for each other. She enables her behavior and then acts innocent. What Rue said about her was facts. Still haven't forgiven her and Elliott and I never will.

Ethan my darling. I love him your honor. Kat looked so pretty this episode. Fezbae and Ash need to be OK. Ashtray spidey senses are tingling and I need him to figure it out before something happens. The only reason why they got caught slipping is cause Ash went to the bathroom. We all know our boy is sharper than that. Faye is upsetting me. Fez was so nice to her bro.. His grandmother did warn him about his heart of gold but he can't help it. Haven't met his mom but that's her child. I just really don't want Fez heart to fuck him over in the end. Fez nervousness when getting ready was really sweet and adorable. You'll always be handsome baby. Lexi and his relationship is really fuckin sweet 😭💜. Also them messing with Lexi and her Halloween costume being Bob Ross was hilarious. I hope Rue and Lexi could get back close.

I'm done ranting now, the producers were some hoes for doing that cliffhanger. Bitch I got anxiety and this is all I'm gonna think about till Sunday.

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | chapter eleven

chapter eleven

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Chapter Warnings: Y/N POV: details of what happened to Stephen, her grandmas cancer, and very detailed explanations of how babies are made (as biologically accurate and not very graphic as possible) this is an angsty trauma filled chapter that made me cry a lot just writing it so I'm sorry in advance

word count: 3K

from the beginning <3

June 13th, 2010

There’s a knock on her parent's door at 4 in the morning, Y/N’s sound asleep on the couch back at her grandma’s, awoken by said grandmother as she hears all the noise beyond the porch. There are 2 cop cars at the main house, worry starts to settle over them.

She puts on a pair of shoes, taking her grandmother's hand in hers as they begin the early morning trek up the road, anxiety seeping in deeper and deeper as they get closer to the lights illuminating their driveway.

Her father is talking to an officer on the steps, her mother is crying behind him. “We’re so sorry for your loss,” the officer says and Y/N’s blood runs cold, numbing her from the impending despair.

“What happened?” Her grandmother asks, rubbing a hand along Y/N’s back in preparation for the worst.

“Evan was in a car accident,” her father says softly, knowing that Y/N knows Stephen was with him tonight. She breaks away from her grandma and without thinking she’s right in the officer's face.

“Which one of them died?”

“Ma’am,” it was never a good way to start the worst conversation of her life with that word or in that tone. She felt like a '40s housewife learning her husband wasn’t coming home from the war, only he wasn’t even her husband yet.

He would have been on next Saturday.

“I’m sorry, Stephen was pronounced dead on the scene,” he says the worst sentence she’s ever heard, and now she’ll never forget it. “The passenger side took the worst of it, once again, I am so sorry for your loss.”

She’s surprisingly calm, managing to whisper, “thank you,” before she’s walking off into the field, pushing everyone's hands away as she travels as far as he feet will take her.

She ends up at the willow tree by the pond as soon as the sun is rising, it happened a lot earlier in June than the rest of the year. The birds singing, the wind blowing against the leaves making them carry a tune in harmony together. The world is still spinning, life is moving on, but how?

She sat there against the tree for a while, picking blades of grass and weaving them into a chain, soothing her brain as she makes a pattern. Giving her hands something to do so they stop going numb, it’s the only thing that really reminds her that she's real, that she’s controlling the twists and tucks, the shape and length and the fact that it was created at all.

Ending the life of the single blade of grass as she picks it, never to be whole again. Snatched from its happy place, where it grew loved and surrounded by other matching green strands as they blew in the wind.

Then she's pulling fist full after fist full of grass out of the dirt, her hands covered in mud as she shouts, throwing handfuls of grass and dirt towards the pond. The once blue water starting to turn cloudy; disrupted and upset with her anger as it swallows her weapons, but it doesn’t make her feel better. All she did was disrupt the earth, changing the way this once beautiful patch of land used to look. She couldn’t help but sob, realizing that she was like this field now and her beautiful green pasture was disrupted, overturned and ruined.

The life that flowed through her died along with the love of her life.

“Stephen was pronounced dead on the scene,” the words echo in her mind in a constant circle like she’s stuck in a tin can.

It starts to reverberate, getting louder and louder as the same 7 words all run around in her head. Bouncing off the walls, smacking her down again and again as she hears them over and over and over… she’s holding her hands on her ears, shaking back and forth, sobbing when she feels someone wrap their arms around her.

She doesn’t open her eyes, instead, she's rushing to push them off of her, struggling out of their grasp as she fights them. Finally, she loses, being held in her brother's embrace as they both cry, he barely has a scratch on him when she finally looks at him.

she’s never been physical in her life, but she punched him right in the face. Her twin brother, best friend in childhood and the person she’s known the longest in her life. He held her close in the womb, crying if they separated as soon as they were born, she loved him deeply and yet she hated him something fierce at that moment.

“It wasn’t my fault,” Evan cries, “we were stopped at a red light, Y/N!”

“I don’t care! He was supposed to be my husband!” She swats at him, smacking his arms again and again as he tries to hold them back, holding her so tightly as she basically screams bloody murder in the field.

All she can see is his face, her beautiful happy Stephen. The first time she ever saw him, standing under a street light in Boston, papers in his hand and wonder in his eyes. The way he looked up at her, the glow of the light making a halo glow over his head.

She should have known he was too good to be true. Always destined to return to the heavens, he was truly angelic with his big emerald eyes that were only the tiniest bit yellow on the edge of the pupil, the way her name sounded on his tongue like a blessing coming true.

They buried him 2 days after what was supposed to be their wedding. Disrupting another beautiful patch of earth to hide him away forever, she placed a single rose on his casket, she never said goodbye and she never planned to.

“See you later, superstar,” she patted the glossy black box once last time before sending him down into the earth.

—

September 2012

This fucking willow tree and 7-word sentences…

“What do you mean you have cancer?”

Her grandma let a tear slip from her eye, “I’ve got colon cancer, honey, the doctors said I have another 2 years, maybe 5 if I'm lucky.”

Every time someone sat beside her in this one spot, she learned the worst information in the world. Sure Evan didn’t mean to kill Stephen, doesn’t mean she’s talked to him at all in the last year. with Grandpa dying only a few summers back, her favourite house cat now buried in the yard, she can’t lose her grandma now too.

“Okay,” she starts to plan in her head, her eyes about ready to jump out of her skull as she tries to think of all the things they need to do before it’s too late, “let’s go to England, let’s blow my bank account, you can’t leave me without going to England with me? We were supposed to get tea and pretend to be the queen and princess?”

She couldn’t stop the tears, her whole body heaving as she sobbed into her grandma’s dress, “you can’t leave me too!”

“Your grandfather and I have a fund for you, you were the last baby we got to raise when your mom went back to work, I want you to use it for that baby we talked about,” her grandma’s voice is barely a whisper, softly getting the words over her vocal cords as the tears joined Y/N’s on her dress.

Without another word, she took her hand and walked home, getting in her car together and heading to the closest fertility clinic, she booked her first insemination for February, pre-paying for a round of IVF hormones and everything to start in January, she had 3 months to plan.

Finding the perfect donor was the only hard part. She had 3 different books to choose from with all the clinics in the DC area sharing 1 sperm bank. She finally made her decision 3 weeks before they were set to get her pregnant when they updated the books.

Sample 2319, male 30’s, healthy, high IQ, 6’1, brown eyes, brown hair (curly). “Sounds a lot like Stephen,” her grandma agreed, saying his name for the first time in over 2 years, she knew this was her guy.

—

June 14th, 2021

Peeing on a stick shouldn’t be as terrifying as it is.

She hasn’t been this nervous since the first time Dr. Collins inseminated her. Laying back on the table at a weird elevation to make sure she got pregnant, her whole body tense as she thought of the possibilities of her future child.

Sample 2319 sitting in a cup not too far from her face as she prepared for a man she barely knew to put the semen of another man she didn’t know, inside her. She only picked this guy cause he was smart and tall, no health issues to report and the number made her think of Monsters Inc.

In her mind, she made a baby with a man she named mike wazowski, not knowing his real name was actually Spencer Reid and he was only just down the road at Quantico the whole time. It was the weirdest day ever, and then it became the second-best day of her life

Nothing could top holding her baby in her arms for the first time. Her grandma and mother beside her as they all cried, the perfect purple baby screaming on her chest as they tried to wipe the white gunk off her tiny body. her sweet little coos, seeing her swollen eyes open for the first time, the silence that overcame her as they made their first introduction to each other. Her little person, the love of her life, her wonderful Amoreena.

Her cry was perfect, like music to her ears she wanted to hear her little voice as long as she could because it meant she was alive and real. She was healthy and beautiful and the most perfect bundle of joy she could have ever made.

Now she was hiding in the bathroom to pee on a stick while her 7-year-old had breakfast in the next room. Oh, how times changed, but one thing remained the same, she was finding out alone again. Only this time she meant for that to happen, it was exactly 4 days since her period was supposed to start and it wasn’t there, neither was Spencer.

He had something to do that morning, but he’d be meeting them later that afternoon, it was Amoreena’s last day of kindergarten after all. She wanted time to either enjoy the thought of having another baby or cry in peace because for once it didn’t work, giving her a week to recover before trying again.

Amoreena was a miracle, the easiest IVF baby they ever made at the clinic, apparently. If she was pregnant this easily again it was a sure sign that he was Amoreena’s father too, only he could get her knocked up while not even trying.

She didn’t remember pregnancy tests taking this long, she flipped it over and walked out of the room, unable to think of anything else while she waited for 3 minutes to pass. Amoreena noticed she was being weird, studying her mother's movements as she paced the hall outside of the bathroom door.

“What are you doing?” She asked, curious as ever as she twirled lightly in her new princess dress.

“Can you keep a secret?”

“Always mom, I’m the best secret keeper in all the kingdom, remember?” Amoreena smiled, holding onto her leg as she stared up at her.

“Your dad and I tried to make a baby,” she whispered, petting the litter hairs on her forehead as Amoreena looked up at her, her first little baby. “I’m waiting to find out if it worked, but we can’t tell anyone in case it didn’t, okay?”

Amoreena’s eyes were wider than she’s ever seen them, her mouth opened slowly as she understood the words in her mind. She didn’t look happy or surprised, nor upset or worried. She looked confused, “how?”

She laughed then, shaking her head as she lifted Amoreena into her arms, she would have to know soon anyway. “You know how every month mummy has a bad week where she bleeds and her tummy hurts?”

“Yeah?”

“When people with our parts grow up they make little tiny eggs but we don’t lay them like chickens do, they stay inside our tummies and wait to become babies and if they don’t we have a period and release all the stuff our bodies saved up that month to make a little person. You’ll have one soon too in a few years, probably when you're 12 like I was, and when people with a penis get old enough they’re able to help us make the babies like roosters help the chickens. Our bodies are really special and make some really cool things when we try to,” she explained it in the most simple farmhouse way she could.

“Like when the goats are all born in the spring and they just show up?” She tried to clarify, understanding it at the basic level.

“Kinda, you’ve seen the photos of you in my tummy and how aunty Shannon’s stomach grew when she had your cousins, I’ll get really big like that too if I’m pregnant, the baby will grow for 9 long months till they’re nice and healthy and then we’ll have another person in the family,” she couldn’t help but smile as she thought about it.

“How do we find out?”

She opened the bathroom door then and carried Amoreena inside, setting her down on the sink and pointing at the upside-down test stick. “We create a special hormone when we’re pregnant, it’s something that can be detected in our pee!” she explained it like it was magic, watching her get excited instead of grossed out.

“So I peed on that stick and if it has 2 lines I have a baby in my tummy, if not then your dad and I have to try again.”

Amoreena picked up the test and looked at it, keeping it out of her mothers sight as she did so, “there’s two lines,” she lit up waving the stick lightly as she squealed.

Y/N wrapped her up in her arms and twirled her around, “you’re gonna be the best big sister ever!”

“How do we tell dad?” Amoreena’s soft voice whispered in her ear as she snuggled into her shoulder.

“I have an idea,” she whispered back before carrying her back into the kitchen.

Her All About Me project was sitting on the counter, ready for Y/N to drive her into school today. She set Amoreena down on the floor to watch her as she took some tape and taped the stick to the bottom corner of the project. “Pass me the marker, please?”

Amoreena ran to the counter to get it, coming back and placing it in her mom's hand before leaning in to watch what she was writing.

“I’m going to be a big sister sometime next February!” Amoreena read the words as her mother wrote them, unbelievably excited.

“Your dad can read that at the ceremony tonight!”

“I thought you said we can’t tell anyone yet?” Amoreena questioned her, like always.

“Your teacher can know, the other kids won't know what it means, it’s just important Spencer sees it, but we will wait to tell nanny and poppy, okay? Sometimes the babies don’t always stay, it’s sad so we keep it a secret until they’ve got a tiny little heartbeat in there,” she didn’t want to scare her, but she knew it was always a possibility.

“Then we try again,” Amoreena smiled, “It’ll be easier now that you don’t need Dr. Collins to help you, how did you even make me without Spencer?” She didn't use his real name often anymore, only in times when she wasn't referring to him as her father.

She sat down then, pulling Amoreena into her lap so she could hold her while she thought of the right words. “So we have eggs, but people with penises have something called sperm. When adults, and I mean adults you have to be at least 25 to have a baby it’s the rules,” she teased her slightly, ticking her arms.

“Adults have sex, babies are made when someone with a vagina and someone with a penis get together. But when you don’t have a partner with a penis to help, sometimes they’ll donate their sperm to the doctor's offices to help people like me make their perfect little families all by themselves.”

“Interesting,” is all her little mind can say, she has learned so much in one day, Y/N was surprised she was still listening and surprisingly still for once. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

“We won't know for a while,” she smiled, holding Amoreena closer to her chest. “How do you feel about all this?”

Amoreena was quiet as she thought about it, “is Spencer the guy who gave the doctors the sperm for me?”

“We think so, but we don’t know, why?”

Amoreena looked at her softly, “it wouldn’t be fair, I know he said I don’t need a father but why do they get to have him for both?”

“I think Spencer is your father, you’re just as smart and wonderful as he is, there’s no doubt in my mind that you’re his baby too. but if you want to know if he isn't, when you turn 18 the doctors will tell you who it is, it's completely up to you to find out,” she whispered, the tears starting to fall down her cheeks as Amoreena tried to wipe them away.

"I like thinking he's my father, so he is." Her mind worked in the most wonderful way. Y/N couldn’t help but hold her close as she lightly cried, “I had a dream yesterday that I had 8 sisters,” her voice was so soft and innocent as her tiny hand cupped her mother's cheek.

She gasped lightly at the words, remembering Spencer’s panic in the middle of the night last night, how scared he was to leave her all alone with 9 babies and no one to help her. They knew something that she didn’t yet, cheaper by the dozen seemed less like a dream and more like a prophecy.

“I’m so happy to make your dream come true,” Y/N whispered, “I promise I’m happy, the baby just makes me emotional.”

Amoreena placed her hand on her tummy then, “I love you, baby.”

Y/N stuck her tummy out as far as she could, “I love you too, big sister,” she said in a funny voice to make Amoreena laugh, leaning back in the chair as she held her.

And just like that, getting pregnant with Amoreena was bumped into 3rd place for the best day of her life. Sharing the moment with her and no one else was perfect, insuring she knew that she was just as important moving forward as the little person she was growing this time.

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187 let me know if you would like to be added as well!!

[ziracona]

Hello! I have always believed that Michael needed better doctors and good treatment. He was simply billed as "Evil". Sometimes I think that at that time they were unaware or ignorant of mental illness, and that is why Michael did not recover. I wish it had been treated better. I would like to know your opinion about it ;v;

Oh, absolutely. Michael is a very tragic character, and what happened to him was almost entirely Loomis’ fault, secondarily the system and his parents’, and like onyl 0.8% his own. It’s true that mental health aid has historically been really bad in most places, and even today treatment and acceptance—even in specifically medical settings—tend to be abysmal. Of course people knew less than they do now about how psychological stuff works, but bias, cruelty, and superstition as well as a system that enables and even to degrees outright encourages that is to blame for the awful treatment people woth mental illnesses and personality disorders faced and continue to face, not just a lack of knowledge, and the history is really heavy and awful to look over. : ( It’s horrific some of the things doctors have done and do to people just trying to get help.

Like, in Michael’s case, we’ve had a name and understanding of psychosis since the 1800s. Canonically, by the time the poor kid was six years old, he was hearing voices telling him to do bad things to people. He told his parents, seeking help, and they did nothing to help him—just told him it was his imagination—despite knowing hos grandfather had suffered the same symptoms. If they had only taken him seriously and given him therapy and possibly medication too, Judith never would have died. (I am not goong to say it every time, but all this information is official canon) Michael’s reason for killing his family members is wanting the vocies talking to him to be quiet, because it’s agonizing. If you’ve ever had intrusive thoughts (stuff like “pull into oncoming traffic” or “break that and see what happens” and such that don’t actually compell or force you to do it at all, and are always things you as a person deeply do not want to do, but nevertheless are really annoying or distressing to hear in your head), imagine that cranked up to 1000, endless and constant, but from voices that seem to come from around you instead of in your head. Especially as a young child, with no understanding what is happening to you, this would be incredibly scary and distressing—doubly so when dismissed by your parents, whose sole job is supposed to be to love and protect you.

The voices say they’ll be quiet if Michael kills Judith, so Halloween night, he does. Important to note here Michael is recently six years old at the time, which developmental psych literally is not old enough to have a complete understanding what death itself is, let alone complex morality. You /cannot/ be evil at six, you simply don’t have a complex enough understanding of right and wrong or of consequence to /be/ evil. Also at this age, usually kids see death as a vague concept, but one that applies to people they don’t know only, not to them and their loved ones. In Halloween 1978, immediately after stabbing Judith, Michael looks away while he keeps doing it, and his breathing speeds up in a scared way. He barely looks at the body, and immediately goes down stairs to wait for his parents—probably for them to fix it—and does nothing to flee or hide what he’s done. He looks traumatized when they take his mask off. (Lots of little notes here like that Judith when she sees him seems annoyed but not very, and when he attacks her, tries to shield herself and call to him to stop, rather than fleeing or fighting back, which [appealing instead of fight or flight] is pretty exclusively something you only would use if attcked by someone you are on good terms with—I mean, Michael is six—if Judith had /tried/ to fight back, no way she would have died—so there’s less than nothing to indicate they had anything but a loving familial sibling relationship. But if I list all these I’m gonna launch into my six page Michael Myers meta so I will speed through the rest.)

Anyway! Sorry, I have many feelings. About...everything. Including Michael for sure. So, immediately after killing Judith, Michael stops talking. He also shows other psychosis and trauma readily recognized side effects, like catatonia, slowed movement. In Halloween 1978c Dr. Loomis claims he tried to treat Michael for eight years, then spent another seven trying to keep him locked up because he realized he was evil. This is a /blatant/ lie, as in film canon Loomis, by Michael’s review hearing I believe four months in? Six or less for sure, I believe it is four. Loomis has /already/ become convinced Michael is a demon in human form, faking his symptoms, and itching to kill again. The other doctors think Loomis is crazy, as does the other doctor who examines Michael, but they’re awful people so they let him stay Michael’s doctor anyway, even though they refuse to move him to Litchfield maximum security. By this time only a few months in, Loomis is canonically also threatening the six year old in his care and constantly telling him he is an evil being who wants to get out and terrorize again. (Also, I will die enraged the sentance Michael gets for killing Judith is to remain locked in solitary in a sanitorium for /15/ years, until he turns 21, at which point he will be tried as an adult for murder??? The fuck?? You CANNOT charge a 6 year old’s crime in adult court! ‘Tried as an adult’ is meant for like, when a 17 year old dismembers their family and eats them! It’s for particularly heinous crimes, committed by someone /very/ close to being legally an adult, and that /only/. The idea of waiting fifteen years to try someone as an adult for something done at age six is laughable and sick).

Okay this is already long, I get carried away rip. Uhhh, anyway, yeah. In Smith’s Grove, Michael is visited by mom and Laurie once, then never sees any of his family again, because his dad hates him and forbids the others—finds out because Laurie is four and talks that they went /one/ time, and physically beats four year old Laurie for mentioning his name until she trauma blocks out ever having had a brother. From then on, Michael spends /fifteen/ years and all the dest of his developmental stages of childhood in a sanitorium with Dr. Loomis—a man who on wild religious superstition grounds assumes by his own admission /on sight/ that Michael is evil, and no other human contact. According to canon, Michael spends at least four hours of /every/ day with Loomis, his /only/ human contact, who threatens him, promises to stop him, and endlessly barrages him with “You’re evil, you’re not human, you want to kill again, I /will/ stop you,” and nothing else. He also canonically keeps Michael overdosed on a type of antipsychotic that, while a fine drug if used normally, if overdosed can deeply worsen symptoms, and can cause permanent brain damage.

Honestly, if a six year old is exposed yo major trauma, none of their issues are explained, legitimized, or believed, and almost all of their developmental stage is spent with endless voices they don’t know the cause of suggesting murder and violence, one human being and authority figure telling them over and over and over for fifteen years with no other constant in their life or human contact period that they are a demon in human form who wants to kill and is /going/ to do so again...? How else was that story ever going to end? I’ve said it before, but that’s beyond conditioning; it’s lab growing a human child to one day walk out and murder Laurie Strode with a large kitchen knife.

I stand by Halloween is a greek tragedy more than a slasher, and Michael and Laurie are both victims. He’s the Asterios, she’s the Ariadne. Loomis the Minos, the real villain. (Or the Poseidon choose your poison).

Anyway, I 100% agree! If he had just gotten help from his parents, Judith would have never died. If he’d had good doctors, none of the events of 1978 would have come to pass, or anything after it. Loomis single-handedly causes the deaths in 1978 himself through years of cruelty, and bigoted bias towards a small child in his care who needed his help, not his abuse, but he chose to break as much as he possibly could despite his responsibilities as a doctor, an adult, and a human.

If you’re interested, I did a canon-deep-dive character study short story on Michael on AO3! Halloween is such a sad story but it’s fascinating. God, poor Michael and Laurie deserved so much better than they got. It’s a testament to Michael’s character that even after 15 years of Dr. Loomis, he really only kills his intented target(s) in search of quiet from the voices, and anyone who sees him/would be a threat, and not other people. Makes no attempt to kill any of the kids in Halloween 2018, and only kills Bob when he literally opens the door to his hiding spot and Michael is found and Bob becomes a threat to him. In H20, after Michael has had 20 years on his own, you get arguably the least brutal Michael, who intentionally passes on killing the mother and child, and the security guard he walks right past, because they don’t see him and thus he doesn’t /have/ to. Halloween II is less intentionally avoiding, but even then he still does the same multiple times too, like with the old lady making a sandwich, or the scene in the incubator room. Anyway he desevered better fuck Loomis all my homies hate Loomis.

[popculturebuffet]

Amphibia: Night Drivers/Return to Wartwood Review “Many Happy Returns”

Hello you happy people. And Amphibia is back and that means my reviews are back! As for why this reviews a bit late despite it leaking, I wanted to wait for today, and long story short both focused on finishing a review that WASN’T time senstive, instead of finishing it Sunday, and overestimated how much time i’d have to do two reviews on a day that included my first covid shot, grocery shopping, helping mom clean the car, and my friend coming over to watch Judas and the Black Messiah. Excellent film by hte way, as was the Sound of Metal which we watched after. Point is I done goofed and I will try to at the very least actually get the reviews of the episodes out on the same day they come out. 

But slip up or not i’m happy to be back in the saddle, and back to Wartwood. I’m pumped for the heavier second half, with more secrets to uncover, some zelda style temple action, and some heavy drama with just a whiff of keith david, as well as to see the supporting cast from Wartwood again after far too long. So how’d the mid-season premire pair fair? Join me under the cut to find out. 

Night Drivers: I was really excited by the Road Trip idea when first announced for season 2. A chance to expand the world and get the plantars out of their comfort zone was an amazing concept and it did lead to some really great stories and interesting locales.. mixed with episodes that had interesting locations but no interesting plot or character stuff. It was a mixed bag, and disappointing after close to a year’s wait to continue the plot that it really didn’t outside of “Toadcatcher”. Anne never really dealt with her trauma and the show never dealt with hop pop’s poularity or anything else. Again there were GOOD episodes and ideas but it felt like the show stalled for a good chunk of the season till we got to Netwopia which while still having tons of slice of life stuff felt a lot fresher with it, and had a lot more fun playing with stock plots and gave us a fresh new setting to dig into. 

So I was a bit hesitant to go back to the road for an episode.. even if it was just one episode. Thankfully I was very wrong there as Night Drivers was a pretty good episode and would fit well among the best of the road trip arc like “Truck Stop Polly” “Fort in the Road” “Anne Hunter” “Toadcatcher” and “Wax Museum”.

The plot is straightforward: Sprig and Polly are excited that their almost home to wartwood and if Anne and Hop Pop drive all night they’ll be there by morning. Polly will get pillbug pancakes and Sprig will see Ivy again. This is part of a long tradtion of “skiping over the journey home because we’re tired and we wanna go home” in fiction. Jokes aside it’s a resonable device used to prevent ending fatigue and in this case to free up episodes for the second half. We already saw the journey once, we usually don’t need to see it again. To Amphibia’s credit they have valid reasons for it: The journey is LITERALLY sped up, as Hop Pop and Anne have been driving for 20 hours straight.. and their on a timer. As was established last time.. well the last time that wasn’t a spooky halloween episode, The Plantars have to get back for the harvest and really don’t have time to sightsee, while they all have to be there for whenever Marcy comes back to take Anne to the first temple. They’ve also traveled these roads before so while their going a whole other directoin, they know what perils to avoid. 

But as anyone whose taken a long cartrip can tell you, you can’t shotgun it forever and the two eventually tap out with Hop Pop telling Sprig and Polly not to night drive as it’s dangerous and blah blah blah standard parental warning that will be swiftly ignored. So once Hop Pop and Anne are conked out they swiftly ignore it after we get their dreams.. which are the best gags of the episode: Hop Pop has a dream with weird, really cool looking monsters that represent his faults, only for it to turn Lucid and him to start flying and take his shirt off and whip it around Muscle Man style. 

While Anne’s is about a yogurt world where there’s only one flavor... BLACK LICORICE. Yeah it quickly turns from Shopkins to the Lich From Adventure Time really fucking quick. 

So while Anne has a nightmare and Hop Pop becomes unto a god, Sprig and Polly drive all night, repreadtly running into a creepy hitchiker and realizing it is as dangerous as they said with bolders, even worse creatures than usual because of course theye’d be a lot of nasty things lurk in the dark why wouldn’t they on froggy death world, a nightmarish fog and nearly dying on said foggy road they took to evade the hitchiker. Naturally the scary hook handed hitchiker.. is a friendly one, simply trying to help them and saving them from going over a cliff. They do make it three miles from Wartwood and Hop Pop wakes up angry to find they disobeyed him.. but Anne gets him to back off as they clearly learned their lesson from the sleep deprviation and nearly dying, and our heroes head for home. 

Night Drivers isn’t an exceptional episode, but it is decent and still does belong with the other good road trip episodes, with some good dream sequences and a nice dynamic between Sprig and Polly. It was nice to have an episode with the two that was good unlike Quarallers Pass which made me want to run full speed into my nearest wall until I was given the sweet gift of unconciousness. While the Hook Handed man thing was a bit obvious it lead to some great gags. It’s a nice breather after the tearjerking mid-season finale and while we’ve obviously had months and a haloween episode between that, the creators rightfully realized a lot of people will be binging the series in the future. The issue I had with the first quarter of the season was it was ALL break and only a little plot progression. Here we’ve had a lot of plot progression in the last episode chronlogically, and are going to have a lot in the coming episodes with ‘After the Rain” coming next week. It’s nice to take a break and see the forest for the hook handed ghosts.

Return to Wartwood: I was excited and terrified of this one. I was excited because I missed the supporting cast from season one, mostly Ivy and Maddie, and was delighted to see them again in full. But I was also worried the show might pull out a melancholy breakup plot and having gotten attached to Ivy/Sprig and Hop Pop/Sylvia I was worried. And I was delightfully wrong as instead it’s another breather episode and an utterly fantastic one after the simply decent one above. 

Our heroes return, without being drawn by rob liefield or replaced by the Squadron Supreme first, and are happily greeted by the town. Aformentoined fears died a happy death as Sylvia squeezes Hop Pop and as for Sprig, Ivy unsuprisingly ambushes him. Everyone’s back and the Mayor, who I also badly missed is back using Toadie as a gong to get everyone back to buisness, with Swampy inviting them for a big dinner at his diner that night to celebrate and welcome them back.. and to give out their gifts. 

Sprig and Anne are equally confused while Polly and Hop Pop are sweating bullets. Turns out when they got the Fwagon they agreed to get a bunch of stuff for the town and forgot and now everyone’s on the hook for it and want to lie their butts off to solve it. In a nice show of character development, Anne has learned that the lying never solves anything “I think we’ve learned that lesson by now”. After SO many plots of the characters lying and it going terribly, it’s nice to have someone speak up. Sprig also wants to lie but only becuase he’s deeply afraid Ivy will break up with him as she wanted a Red Sun shell to go with the blue moon shell she gave him. Awwww. And oh crap. 

So our heroes head home to plan and kick Chuck out (“I grew tulips”). So they do the natural thing... and decide to summon an edltich beast from the necronomicon... which of course Maddie gave Sprig as a present (”Aww that’s nice”. Agreed Polly, agreed.). I also can’t help but love the line “We’re all cull with practicing the dark arts to solve our problem right?” So our heroes get the proper summoning horn, thing to go with the horn and some candles.. i’ts not part of the ritual but Anne says it helps with ambience and it’s right. 

So our heroes summon the Chikalisk, an edltich god that’s naturally basalisk in all but name, which dosen’t attack unless attacked and goes after gold. So they fake some golden presents, and the beast attacks at the party.. but the town naturally fights back, and our heroes are forced to help fight the monster as it stonifies people. So we get a truly glorious battle sequences as the whole town shows off how badass they are, with Maddie curing people, Sylvia showing she can keep up with Hop Pop and Ivy showing her already established badass bonafieds. It’s just awesome. Also the Mayor uses Toadie as a shield not realizing he’s turned to stone which can only remind me of this. 

Once the townsfolk are freed they get into Chickalisk formation (”We have a formation for that?” “We have a formation for everything!”) And it’s offended enough to just nope out. The townsfolk are depressed though the presents got destroyed and Anne glares the family into coming clean. And while the mayor seems mad at first... he just laughs with everyone taking it in stride: It was boring without them getting into trouble and learning lessons every week, and they missed them.  Ivy likewise dosen’t care about a gift she just missed her boyfriend.. and asks Sprig to take her on a proper date and smooches him on the cheek leaving both him and Anne catatonic, with Polly dragging Anne away and sprig just falling over before Maddie hits him with the potion. It dosen’t work that way, end episode. 

Return To Wartwood was a standout episode, with tons of great jokes, pacing and a nice plot that showed growth in anne. While Night Drivers was decent, this was the show at it’s : Sweet, deranged and adventurous all in one episode. While Night Drivers was a good appitizer this was one hell of an entree. Or an appetizer sampler which I often use as an entree. Great episode and a nice high note to start on. 

Next Time: We get an Ivy focused episode!

And Hop Pop is finally forced to own up to his lies!

As the twin kermits sooth you if you liked this review, follow me for more, check the amphibia tag for more reviews from this season and join me on patreon. If I get another patreon, i’ll add reviewing season 1 to my 25 dollar stretch goal so look out for that and my next one at 20 dollars, only 5 dollars away, nets a monthly review of a darkwing duck episode. Check it out and i’ll see you at the next rainbow. 

[ashintheairlikesnow]

I’m 11 anon , I was going for happy 11 , poor bean needs a break , but upset 11 sounds just as good 👀

CW: HEAD BANGING, negative stimming resulting in self-injury, PTSD/trauma response, trauma recovery, captor bonding

Tagging Chris’s crew:  @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @stxckfxck , @slaintetowhump

By the time Jake gets home, Chris is already there, and he’s screaming. 

Antoni is staring at him in white-faced alarm, pressed back against the wall, and it’s the first time in a while that Jake has really remembered that he is the only person in the new house who has spent his entire life free.

The text had been garbled, half-typed letters and confusing autocorrect words, as though Chris had simply mashed his thumbs into the phone and hoped for the best. Looking at him now, Jake wonders if that’s exactly what he did.

“I came as soon as I could,” Jake says, having to shout over Chris’s wordless shrieking as he pulls Antoni away from the wall by one arm, pushing him towards the doorway to the other end of the house, where the bedrooms are. “You’re okay, man, you’re okay, it’s okay. Can you go sit in your room for a while? Until I can calm him down?”

Antoni’s eyes flicker up to his, and there’s a desperation there, hysterical panic under a placid surface. “I-I do not know what happened, Jake,” Antoni says, his accent thick now, filtering in around his fear. “I do not know, he came home and asked for you and you were not here and he began, he, he started, he will not stop-”

“I know, I know, I know. Come on, Antoni, come on, go back to your room, all right? Calm, Ant, it’s okay. I got this, I can help him, okay?”

“Jake, Jake, she used to scream like that with him, my, when I was there, when I was-”

“I know, Antoni, I know, I remember you telling me-”

“She used to scream like this, Jake!” Antoni is rubbing furious at his arms, jamming his palm against his forearm right through the fabric of his shirt, dragging it back and forth, back and forth. “She used to scream, she used to scream at night, I had to put my hands over my ears and could still hear the screaming-... Chrisha is screaming, is, is screaming make it stop make it stop-”

“Antoni!”

The snap of Jake’s voice, loud and harsh, jerks Antoni back into the present and he takes a breath, staring into Jake’s eyes. 

“Antoni, you have to calm down, I can’t help you both right now. I have to focus on one of you. Go to your room and try to calm down, I’ll be in after you, okay?”

“Calm.” Antoni shivers under Jake’s touch, shoulders hunched, staring down at the ground. “Calm, calm, спокойный, yes, I can, I can calm down, I can-... you will help Chrisha, I can calm-”

“Go, Antoni.” Jake gives him a little push and Antoni all but flees down the hall. Jake stands there in the doorway, listening to Chris behind him, closing his eyes. 

Deep breath, Jake. Deep breath. You’re the only one who hasn’t had to live like they have, you’re the one who has to fix it, now. Nat isn’t here. This is all on you.

He sets his shoulders back and turns around.

Chris, blue hair hanging around his head and dressed in a flannel over a t-shirt and jeans, is curled up in the corner nearest to the front door, bashing his head against the wall in a constant frantic repetition, half-screaming around his tears, hands curled up over his face as though he’d claw off his own skin.

Thunk. “M-my fault-” Thunk. “Did it, I did it, my fault-” Thunk. “Didn’t mean didn’t just just just wanted-” THUNK. “Just, just, just wanted-” THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK.

Jake has never seen Chris like this before - the sound of his head against the wall is so loud Jake feels it inside himself as much as he hears it - and he runs for him, only to have Chris jerk back and away, wailing words he can’t understand, they are too deeply drowned in tears, stammered syllables that mean nothing, communicate only pain and fear.

THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK

“Chris, man, you gotta talk to me,” Jake says, falling onto his knees on the ground, reaching out again and sliding his hand between Chris’s head and the wall, catching the hard thump of his skull and wincing at the flare of pain in his palm. He slips the hand around behind Chris’s head. “Come on, Chris, come on, here we go, here we go-”

This time Chris allows himself to be pulled away from the wall, away from a spot of red Jake can see there, and he searches through the blue strands and lets his fingers graze Chris’s scalp until he finds the place where he’s opened a cut on the top of his head from banging it so hard, red soaking into the blue hair and turning it an awful brownish purple. “Chris, man, you can’t do this, you can’t-”

“Everyone,” Chris gasps, burying himself with sudden urgency against Jake’s chest, bawling into his shirt, clutching onto it with his fingers twisting so hard that Jake is worried he’ll tear the fabric apart from the strength of his grip. He starts bumping his head against Jake’s collarbone, but it’s softer than he did to the wall, and Jake can handle it if that’s what it takes for him to calm down.  “Everyone, everyone, ev-, everyone everyone everyone everyone-”

“Sssshhhhhh.” Jake wraps his arms around Chris, holds him as tightly as he can, knowing the constriction of being held will calm him a little, settle some of the panic that has Chris’s heart beating as fast as a bird’s, more a low hum than separated heartbeats. “Sssshhhhh, ssshhhhh, take a breath, come on, man, you gotta talk to me, your texts were-... they looked like you had a stroke, man, I didn’t know-... what happened?”

Chris sniffs and tries to breathe, but then he’s sobbing again. It’s a wretched sound, weak and young in a 22-year-old body. “Ev-... everyone, everyone dies, everyone d-d-dies, everyone dies dies dies because I mess up, I always mess up, I always, I never, I always always always-”

“Chris, man, what are you talking about? Who died?”

The boy catches his breath and pulls slowly back, and Jake slides his hands up to cup his face on either side, looking at wide, glittering green eyes, tears still spilling out of them, running like pure water over the flush of blood in his cheeks, the whites of his eyes red-rimmed, shadowed, miserably grieving. “S-Sir,” He whispers. “Sir died.”

Jake takes a breath and lets his eyes cut to the side, trying to hide the surge of a kind of merciless, humorless about goddamn time that wants to swell inside of him. “How... where did you hear that? He’s supposed to testify-”

“Th-the news, Marissa’s... her her her roommate read it on, on NPR, on their site, on their-... he’s dead and it’s my fucking fault, it’s always me, it’s always, it’s me, me, me me me I fuck it up and I do what I’m not supposed to and they die, they always die, everyone dies when I screw up, I screwed up, I, I, I I I I-”

“Sssssshhhhh,” Jake says again, just trying to buy time, just trying to process the information. Oliver Branch is dead? It doesn’t seem fucking possible. He’s been a ghost haunting Chris for more than four years now, popping up whenever Chris is rebuilding just to make things a little harder for him than they have to be, a little worse. “How did he-”

“D-Drowned.” Chris’s voice is a whimper. “In the, the river down by the bridge.”

“Drowned.” Jake swallows, closes his eyes. He’s dreamed a thousand times of ways to kill Oliver Branch, but drowning always seemed too simple, too easy. Not enough pain, not enough suffering, not enough to make up for what he’d paid to have done to a kid who couldn’t fight back. “Okay. Can I ask why... why you hurt yourself... over him?”

Chris curls himself into a tiny ball, sliding his arms around Jake now to hold on, fingers interlocking behind his back as best they can. Jake’s hand slides up to Chris’s hair on the uninjured side of his head, petting through the long, shining blue strands, letting him take his time to think, listening to his stuttering breaths.

“Everyone dies,” Chris whispers, and Jake feels something cold wrapping around his heart. “Everyone dies because of me.”

“Not true, buddy,” Jake says gently. “Not true. I’m still here, right?”

“Until I, I, I screw it up again. Mom and, and, and Dad died because of me, everyone-everyone-everyone dies-”

“Wait. Hey, hey, Chris, wait, hold on, back up. Your parents are dead? Do you know that for sure-... did you remember that?”

Chris swallows, hard and slowly tips his head back to look up at Jake again, searching his face, his own crumpled nearly unrecognizably with a feeling Jake realizes is grief. 

“I think so,” He whispers. “I, I, I think they died because I messed up. And I, I kept messing up, that’s why I-... why I’m this now, I think that’s why I’m this, because I mess up, I mess up all the the the time-”

“That’s not possible,” Jake says, trying for a hint of some kind of compassionate humor. “You’re perfect.”

Chris’s expression doesn’t change. “He’s, he’s dead, Jake.” His lower lip quivers, childlike, and Jake leans forward to rest his forehead against Chris’s, hands cupping his face, holding him. “He’s dead, be-be-because of me, I know it, I know he is, because everyone who touches me dies-”

“No, honey,” Jake murmurs. He’s not sure where honey comes from, it just slips out, he sounds like his mom. “No. Not everyone, I promise. Antoni and I are still here, right?”

“B-But, but remember when, when the the the-”

“But they didn’t kill me. I came back home to you just like I promised. It’s okay, Chris. It’s okay.”

“B-but he, he, he’s dead, Jake, he’s dead, he drowned, and I know it’s ‘cause of me, I, I I I know it, I know it’s b-because of me, I know it-”

I fucking hope so. He deserved worse.

Jake just holds Chris tightly, shushing him softly, listening to his little hitched breaths and choked-off sobs as he slowly calms. 

“I, I moved when I was supposed to stay still,” Chris whimpers, tucking himself under Jake’s chin like he did when he first came to stay at the shelter and would find his way into Jake’s bed at night just to sleep near a warm body, fingers curled in Jake’s sleep shirt just like they’re curled into his shirt right now. “That’s why they died. Why he died. Because I moved when I was supposed to be, be still.”

“Chris... are you really sad he died?” Jake asks the question in a low voice, trying to keep emotion out of it, to not let the sense of how the fuck can you be sad? make its way into his voice. Nat would be better at this than he is, but this is what happens, he knows this. Just like Kauri - they miss the ones who hurt them, it sticks in their heads even after everything else is dismantled. 

“He, he, he he he shouldn’t be dead,” Chris whispers. He doesn’t answer the question, but Jake knows he doesn’t have to.

There’s a scrape of a foot on the floor and Jake looks up to see Antoni lurking in the doorway again, still white-faced but calmer now that the screaming has stopped. His dark eyes are wide, white-rimmed, the shadows that always dust his cheekbones darker than ever. Jake opens his arm to gesture and Antoni all but runs across the room, drops into a crouch and curves his arms around Chris, too.

The three of them sit on the floor in the house Jake bought using Nat’s goddamn blood money from WRU, and there’s a long moment of silence before Chris whispers, “I hate him but, but, but I never wanted him to die because of me.”

“I know,” Jake murmurs, and presses a kiss to the top of Chris’s hair, careful not to hit the sore spot where he bashed his own head into the wall. “But it’s not your fault. He’s the one who did all that to you. He could have chosen not to hurt people, and he made a choice to hurt you, okay?”

“Okay,” Chris whispers.

Jake can’t help the sinking disappointment. Oliver Branch, slimy motherfucker that he was, knew who Chris used to be. Promised to tell them, after he testified.

Now they still wouldn’t get to know. Jake still couldn’t figure out some way to get Chris back to the people who must love him, miss him.

Unless he really had remembered that his parents were dead. Unless that memory's real. Unless-

“Chris, do you remember your parents’ names right now? If you remember they died, do you remember their names?”

Chris sniffs.

Antoni raises his eyes to meet Jake’s, and Jake lifts a hand to run through his hair, too. Antoni ducks his head into the touch, eyes closing, pressing into Jake’s hand.

Jake forgets so often that Antoni is a rescue, too. He’s so calm and caring and giving to Chris, acts just like Jake does, and Jake forgets all the time that it’s an act for Antoni, papering over deeper wounds.

Until he smiles when Jake pets him, instinctive need for soothing touch, a bone-deep compulsion that you can’t really break.

“No,” Chris admits, finally. “I’m I’m sorry, Jake, I know we want to, to to to know, I know we want, I know-”

“It’s okay. Don’t worry. Look... if you want...” Jake swallows his disgust. This isn’t about you, Stanton. “If you want... we could send flowers to whoever’s his next of kin. He probably has someone, still, right?”

“Th, that’d be nice... maybe...” Chris closes his eyes and stays curled against Jake, his voice slightly hoarse and raw from screaming. “I’m sorry he died. He, he, he, he wasn’t always bad, Jake.”

Yes, he was.

“I know,” Jake says, gently. “I know. It’s okay to grieve, Chris. You’re allowed to miss someone, even someone like him.”

Even if I’ll never understand how you can.

“Everyone dies,” Chris whispers. “Everyone dies when I don’t stay still.”

It feels like Oliver Branch’s final fucking gift, that even as a bloated corpse he can make Chris blame himself for the way the world has relentlessly torn him apart.

[sleepynegress]

On Leti...

So, Leti is a big character, and I mean that in terms of her presence; in how she fills a room, how she is admired and desired and how she kinda’ uses that to escape the burdens of black generational trauma.

Leti feels like that future auntie who will tell you the truth, take you to a salon, and show you photos of all her young girl adventures. 

She leans into this flighty adventeress aesthetic to escape trauma.  Even her estrangement from faith is about that...Until all the goings on with Tic and magic, specifically being brought back from the dead. She’s misread a lot because of the exterior.  ...And the loud boisterious armor she often deploys.  The fact that Tree (and likely a lot of folks in her orbit) thought she was “fast” when she was actually a virgin.  That comes from the burden of prejudgment of being an atractive black woman who doesn’t dress and speak “modestly”... but I also believe being the youngest and lighter-skinned sister also informs this misread. You get the impression that a lot of rumors were likely spread about her, especially given her mom and her leaving town. She *is* a lot like her mom, and I think she knows that and tries her best to escape that by attempting to make her frequent estrangement about helping others...her Civil Rights and artist friends. And she is extremely solid and sure in her morality, I think because of her mom. .--Her determination to throw off that genetic piece of her. She bumps heads with her sister, because she is the one who knows her best and pokes holes in her bullshit. In the fact that Leti running away and not taking on adult responsibilities is in fact *just* like their mom, despite Leti’s using the money given to her to “help” others (by helping herself forget who she is).  Here is an adult truth. We *do* take on the faults of parents, whether we want it or not, but the individual choices one makes, can in fact make those traits assets, i.e. “Letitia “fucking” Lewis”. ...But yeah, she is a classic “baby girl”, youngest in the family. The one who demands/commands attention at every turn. Even the car smashing -while for the most part was about being fed up and needing to affirm her right to live after being dead at the hands of a racist wizard- was also about that personality trait. Her and Tic’s love comes from knowing one another so well.  Again, she knows the shy bookish nerd Tic actually is, the guy who deduces and cares deeply to a fault; military-grade Dorito build he has now and all.

[highlonelylustfull]

1- July-2021

Today I had the first session with my mom and Mark. He immediately zeroed in on my and my defeatedness which was brought up by Dr. White in FL as well when I had a session with her and my mom. She noted how immediately my posture and demeanour changed. The default of compliance, knowing that I am not about to honestly and openly express myself with my mom as she's not able to handle it, and so I just comply and get smaller. Thats the only way that I can cope at this point is to emotionally detach.

Mark asked for a weekly recap and I was honestly about some highs and lows, when he asked mom the same thing she talked about how busy she is and then the rest of it was about Lariel which is annoying, avoidant, and copdepenant to think that someone else's news counts as your experience. Enmeshment.

She said that our conversations don't feel fake or superficial to her, which is alarming but also maybe she is incapable of having the kinds of conversations I would like to have. She at least acknowledged the underlying tension and the avoidance of certain topics.

When she read me her fears for me she got emotional and talked about basically my everyday reality. She said that I have been hit harder than any kid and am constantly being thrown curveballs and trauma, and she's worried that I won't be able to blossom or having an easy life. I didn't understand the fear in that because its all true. Mark and I were both nodding the whole time in agreement as in yes that is true and yes my life is hard and yes a lot of shit happens to me and no it does not stop and no I do not get a break. It was frustrating to see that she clearly doesn't see how her behaviour is contributing to making my life so FUCKING HARD. She is the biggest headache in my day to day life, she continually throws curveballs AT me and then gets upset at how I react making it even worse. She is the most stressful traumatic thing in my life hands down and that is why this is at such a breaking point for me. I need something to change in the way or boundaries, her behaviour, her communication, or just cutting her out of my life and looking for support in other ways. I said int he session that I feel like I can't put my whole weight on her and I have been actively seeking out other resources to help me because I can't trust her support.

When she was reading the assignment to me she acknowladged that she is growing mentally and emotionally and I am as well, both at different stages of our lives. So that gives me a little hope that she is becoming aware of her own faults and is becoming willing to work on her part of this relationship.

She misremebered the I am and have been doing everything in my power to better OUR relationship to bettering MYSELF. She acknowledged it and while that is true that I am and have been constantly bettering myself it discards the entire relationship aspect. She seemed to have a hard time saying or seeing that our relationship is/has shattered in a lot of ways, and added on to how important she is to me.

When I got to the fear.. that was rough. I didn't know if I could even say it as I was tearing up and had the biggest knot in my throat. Eventually I did, and she seemed taken a back, and left out my fear of the relationship ending or being irreparably damaged-clearly she doesn't feel that way even though she threatens me with it.

When it got to why I love her she waited for more I only could muster up two things one of which was a memory because at this point I have so little respect for her that I dont know why I love her other than she's my mother and so I am biologically programmed to withstand the throws of the relationship and try and better it because I'm her daughter. Which now that I think of it is something she drilled into my head about Ralph. That he's my father so I have to have him in my life and he's my father so that justifies a multitude of sins. I could see that she was underwhelmed or maybe even hurt by the lack of embellishment.

But what the fuck am I supposed to say? I literally called Riley last nights to give me ideas and remind me why I love my mother because all the things I love and value about most people.. she doesn't have. She is not loyal, she is not independent or strong, she is not loving ad nurturing all the time (so that didn't feel completely genuine to say), she isn't woke or working on herself, she isn't accountable, she isn't trustworthy, she isn't ride or die. A lot of the things I loved about my mom, things I used to brag about my mom are no longer true for me. She no longer is my best friend she is a constant source of trauma, pain, and material for group and therapy. She is constantly dissaponting me and being insincere and fake. I no longer feel like a priority on her list nor do I feel cared for or even taken into account. I feel like she is holding on to me with one hand and I am trying to get out of her grasp and just get some air but every fucking time, she pushes me down further and adds more mountain to climb. It feels like a never-ending story of Cali is mentally ill and I am a mom so therefore I am clearly not in the wrong or whatever other excuse she deems relevant. and I just have to eat it and drown a little more. It was hard hearing her talk about how hard and traumatic my life is and her just being so fucking blissfully unaware that SHE is the hardest, more traumatic, stressful, largest hurdle that I face in my daily life. That is why I am so fucking committed to fixing this and why I have and am putting so much of myself into this process because it is life or death for me. This is my breaking point. I can't live with this fake ass shit anymore and either the relationship gets better or I will have to cut her out or set firm boundaries and find other support and stability in my life because it is NOT her.

Then after we both finished, Mark asked her to recap how she felt about the assignment, the active listening, and about the content. She gave some bullshit dull answer, and Mark (THANK GOD) persisted that she be more specific. She basically blamed me and my "black and white thinking" as for the reason that I would feel that she is willing and able to cut me off at the drop of a hat. I asked to elaborate and reminded her of the conversation where she clearly threatened me saying "Just how much money do you need. You clearly want to divorce me, so how much money do you need!". She stated that thats not how she remembers the conversation and that actually she was setting a "boundary" with me and "clarifying" about where the financial support was going to come from and setting an emotional boundary with me about what she was not willing to discuss with me at that time... Then our time was up and Mark recaps that he feels like he's leaving us hanging but that ya know Rome wasn't built in a day and these things take time.

Overall I feel like it was a good first step to starting to dig into the REAL problem and exposing how deeply I am hurt and how immense this problem really is.

[the-dead-skwad]

Independent Part 4 X Tig Trager X Reader

Fluffffff. A little shorter this time. 

Summary: Waking up in the hospital, Tig by your side. 

No warnings

Jax approached Gemma who was looking through the window into your room. 

"Hey mom."

"Hey baby." She kissed him on the cheek. 

"How she doing?" He nodded to you. 

"She's okay, had quite a few stitches in her head but she hasn't woken up yet." 

He sighed "Hows he?" Gesturing to Tig sat in the chair next to you, holding your hand tightly with his head on the bed. 

"I dunno, he hasn't moved. He really has fallen head first for this one." She sighed again "I'm going to clean up her house." 

"You don't need to do that. We can go sort it." 

"No I want to. I knew her mother, she was as beautiful and loving as her. All this girl knows is trauma." 

"Alright, I get Tara to give us a call if anything changes." 

"Okay baby." She gave him another kiss before leaving. 

You slowly started to stir. Without opening your eyes you could feel someone next to you. 

"Baby?" His voice was soft. 

You opened your eyes to see him looking at you with those beautiful icy blue eyes. "My head hurts." You tried sitting up. "What happened?"

"Tony hit you over the head with a brick."

"Really? What an asshole." You put your hand on his cheek "I take it you took care of it."

"Jax and the others did. If I had gone in there I would have shot him." He squeezed your hand.

"You know you didn't have to wait here."

Frowning at you "I wasn't leaving my old lady in hospital alone."  

"You're old lady huh? I like the sound of that."

He stood up and kissed you deeply. You could feel the love radiating off him. The door opened and Tara came to your side. "Hey doc."

"How you feeling?"

"My head hurts."

She smiled at you "I'm not surprised."

"Oh my god! Meg... where is she?"

She stopped you from getting up "It's okay, she's fine. She's only a few doors down, I'll take you to her but you have to be careful."

"Thank you." You grabbed hold of her arms as you stood. Dizziness took over your body but luckily Tig was there behind you. "I got this." You breathed for a second.

They both walked you down the hallway. Tig behind so no one could see through your hospital gown. As the curtains were pulled back you felt sick. She lay there hardly recognizable. Her face was swollen and purple. "Oh my god, Meg I'm so sorry." You broke down in tears.

Tig helped you to the chair next to her. He stroked your hair gently "Baby this isn't your fault."

You looked up at him tears streaming down your face "I was supposed to look after her. I promised my mom, I promised her. The one person she can look to in life and they let this happen to her. We have no one else."

You could tell your words upset him. He crouched down to be next to you "You have me." He shrugged his kutte off his shoulders and placed it on your knees "You have us."

Looking up into his eyes you saw a tear fall down his cheek. Without saying anything you placed your forehead against his and closed your eyes.

After a minute or two Megs arm moved. You leapt out of the seat, you did it so fast you almost collapsed. "Please be careful doll." Tig had hold of your arm. "Meg?" You spoke quietly "It's me.. Are you okay?"

She opened her one good eye and looked at you "What the fuck happened to you?"

You laughed at her "I'm so sorry, I was supposed to protect you."

"This isn't your fault, you couldn't have done more for me." She squeezed your hand.

Tara came in the room. "How are you feeling Meg?"

"I've been better." She tried to smile but her face was too swollen.

"Well, you had lost a lot of blood but there is no head trauma so you're quite lucky. You have a few broken ribs but there's nothing internal."

You looked at her "Thank you so much Tara, will I be released today?"

"No, we need to take a few more tests. Make sure everything's still in tact, memory and all that." She noticed the look on everyone's face "Don't worry, its just procedure for head wound this big. If its all okay you can go tomorrow. If you can get someone to get you some comfy clothes that fine."

Tig stood up "I'll go get you some clothes."

"The house was destroyed, I'm not sure if you'll find anything."

"It's okay," Tara smiled at you "Jax told me Gemma has gone to clean up."

"Oh no," You went to stand "She doesn't have to... I can go. She doesn't owe me anything."

"Gemma is doing this for you because she wants to now sit your ass down. You need rest."

"Hey baby," Tig wrapped his arm around you "I'll go help her and I'll find Harley take her to the club."

"Oh yeah thank you. Make sure Harley's okay please."

"Of course Doll." He leaned in and kissed you deeply "I love you."

A smile spread across your face "I love you too." You watched him leave the room and turned to Tara and Meg, both of them looked at you. A huge smile spread across your face "We had never said that before."

"Well at least someones having a good day." Meg shook her head at you.

"Oh don't make me feel any worse than what I already do." Sat on the end of her bed you placed a hand on her leg.

"I'm joking," She nudged you.

Tara placed her hand on your shoulder "Look Miss, you need a fresh bandage on your head. I'll take you back to your bed, get freshened up and have a nap while you wait for Tig and then you can come back."

"I don't want to leave her."

Meg kicked you this time "What's gonna happen to me in here? Go..... You stink anyway."

"You're an asshole." You stood from the bed and Tara took your arm.

As you walked out the room you could here Meg behind you "I can see your ass!"

As you got back in bed Tara smiled at you. "Is she gonna be okay Doc?"

She squeezed your arm for comfort "I can promise you she's fine. She'll just have to stay a few days. She lost a lot of blood." She gave you another little smile.

"What?"

"So he loves you huh?"

You shrugged "Yeahh, he called me his old lady earlier."

"Well I gotta say, if I wanted anyone to join the family it would be you. I'm so happy we can do this together. It gets rough sometimes."

"Me too." You squeezed her hand "What ever comes our way we'll be fine."

[alarawriting]

Inktober 2020 #21: Sleep

Based on the prompt from @writing-prompt-s, “The worst thing a wizard can do is sleep-talk.”

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

Words spoken by a person without the power thrumming through their veins were just words. Even the Words of Change, the secret language the universe was built in, meant nothing to the people without the power. But for the people who had it, words needed to be guarded carefully. “Umhaha”, for instance, unraveled thread. An easy mistake to make; almost every young wizard had a story about accidentally rendering themselves and everyone in the room with them naked, just by laughing a certain way after saying the word “Um.”

“Kefzhizoss” should have been a word that no one would ever say unless they meant to say it.

The young man was crumpled up as small as a human could make himself, on the bench in the police wagon. No one had confiscated the amulet of protection from his neck; like most such amulets, it wouldn’t come off while he was under emotional stress, pain or fear. But he was under a silencing charm, and the amulet didn’t protect him from being silenced.

The cleric was arguing with the detective on the scene. “It’s obvious he didn’t mean to do this,” he said, waving his hand at the devastation of what had been the young man’s home, with his parents and siblings. The broken remains of the wards that had contained the word, made sure the destruction spread no farther than their property, would have stopped the word if it hadn’t been spoken within their house, and there were other fragmentary charms present. One to prevent fire. One that would probably have protected books from water damage. There was one, still intact, that purified air as it went into the lungs of birds.

There were no birds in the wreckage, or bird cages. Neither were there human corpses, or any human beds, except for the one the young man had laid in. The destruction had been too thorough.

“Look, Elimiss, maybe I agree with you. Could be accidental sleeptalking. But four people are dead, and the damage was clearly done by the Devastating Word, and the only survivor’s a wizard. You see why I can’t just let him go, right?”

Tears ran down the young man’s cheeks, but there was nothing physically wrong with him. Either he was tremendously talented for one so young, or one or both of his parents had been very skilled wizards, to have created an amulet that had perfectly protected him and the bed he had been found on from the Devastating Word. It didn’t matter anymore.

“He’s traumatized! He needs a temple, not to be held indefinitely under a silencing charm—”

“Oh, for the love of all your gods, the kid can still read and write. But I can’t let a man who killed his entire family just traipse off to a temple to have his trauma healed. Did it occur to you that maybe a guy who killed his parents and brother and sister maybe deserves to have some trauma?”

“It was obviously an accident! He was wearing pajama pants, for the love of Merenethe Who Heals All Wounds!  What kind of devious, evil killer wears pajama pants and lays down in bed before blasting his entire home to ruin?”

“The kind who knows that people like you will assume it was an accident from that,” the detective said sharply. She was irritated that the cleric had felt the need to provide his god’s entire name, like he was offended that she’d invoked all his gods instead of his specific patron. “He needs to be interrogated, and we can’t let him speak until he’s told us his story.”

The man raised a tear-streaked face, brought up his cuffed hands, and with just one of them, signed, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” over and over again. Both hands, he might have been trying a sigil, though the detective was an experienced enough wizard herself to catch that before it accomplished anything, if he’d tried it. One hand, it was obviously sign, and she relaxed. Only about half of all wizards knew some kind of sign language, which was stupid given the control wizards needed to keep on their speech. Sigils were much more complicated and couldn’t be done accidentally.

“Babababawa” brought a light, misting rain… into a building, if that’s where the wizard said it. It was a hazard of raising wizard babies, that some of them came into their power so early they couldn’t really talk yet, and their baby babble could very easily accidentally land on that one. “Sh’shoot,” an expression thaumnulls might say any time if they started to say “shit”, thought better of it, and instead said “shoot” as a full word without just following from the original sh – more than one wizard teenager had been found that way, growing up among thaumnulls, not knowing what they shouldn’t say. It made existing electrical current surge in power, and could very well blow every circuit in a house, or start a fire. “Kolonel” was a big problem with people learning the language as adults, who didn’t know how to not pronounce the word “colonel”. The only thing it did was create an impenetrable darkness that flowed out to the nearest boundary, if indoors, and a mile or two outdoors, until a wizard said “Kohanoel” to turn it off and restore the light… but people who’d said it by accident and hadn’t known they were wizards didn’t know how to turn it off.

The Devastating Word, however – the detective, being a wizard, did not even think the syllables to herself – was commonly thought to be impossible to say by accident. The “zh” sound wasn’t even common in this language; most native speakers around here wouldn’t even make that sound in their sleep. And here was Elimiss, the mandated social worker who worked with the cops to de-escalate situations and help folks with mental illnesses, insisting that obviously the man – boy, really, he probably wasn’t even out of college – had said it in his sleep, because that was what the plainly traumatized boy had told the cops when they’d arrived. Because a perp couldn’t possibly carefully plan out the excuse he’d use to get treated like a trauma victim and charged only with negligent manslaughter, maybe even go free, after he’d murdered his family. Right.

“Sanavah. I know we have to get his full story from him. But do we really need to treat him as if he’s a dangerous killer?”

Detective Sanavah ofWinterfall looked over at the destroyed house, and then back at the cleric, an expression of disbelief on her face.

Cleric Elimiss Elidanson, adept of Merenethe, sighed deeply. “Yes. I know he killed his family. But if it was an accident—”

“How does anyone say that word accidentally?” Sanavah exploded. “It’s just… not a thing you’d say!”

The boy signed. “We were studying it today. The Dire Words. I’m in magic school.”

Okay, so he was out of college. Magic school, like law school and medical school, was a graduate school; you needed at least a two-year degree to get in. “Why the hell would you be studying the Dire Words?” Sanavah snapped. “How fucking irresponsible would your teachers have to be—”

“Be professional, Sanavah,” Elimiss advised, and she wanted to punch him.

“It’s advanced work. Magical theory. We have to take the Words apart to determine why they work and have so much power,” he signed. “K-E-F-Z-H-I-Z-O-S-S was fascinating, I was working on an analysis all day… but I would never say it intentionally! I was calling it the Kef word.” He signed the individual letters, but ended it with the sign that indicated he was replicating a pronunciation, not a spelling.

Oh. Well. Maybe that changed things. Maybe not; it might still be a really good story. “You know we’ll follow up with your school, right?”

He nodded. “I don’t care what you do to me,” he signed. “Any kind of punishment. I deserve it. I killed Mom and Dad and Lifah and Raoun. But I want the world to know, it was an accident! I loved them! I’d never have said the Kef word in my own house, not without containing it first!”

“This the first time you’ve sleep-talked?”

“No… Mom said I’ve been doing it since I was a baby. Raoun insisted I had to move out and get my own room when I was eight because I was keeping him up at night. My parents turned my dad’s study into my bedroom.” He picked up the amulet. “Mom gave this to me so I wouldn’t accidentally hurt myself by sleep-talking, but I guess she never thought… I mean, I never thought…”

“I’m going to charge his teacher with negligence contributing,” Sanavah said tiredly. “Gonna charge you, too, kid. At least. I’d charge your mother, too, but she’s dead.”

The boy began to cry again, sobbing soundlessly into his hands.

“You believe me now?” Elimiss said. “I’ve had a feeling from Merenethe all this time that this boy isn’t a killer. Not intentionally.”

“That’s great. Very nice of Merenethe. I’m sure ‘a cleric of Merenethe had a feeling’ will be great evidence in court. He’s still coming down to the station.” She spoke to her forensics team. “You about ready to wrap up?”

“Yeah, pretty cut and dried. I think we’ve found all the evidence of standing charms we’re going to, and the Devastating Word would ruin any evidence of any other active spells,” Sofrani, the head forensic wizard, said. “We can head on back now if you want.”

“BTW, got a name,” the analyst, Charron, said. “Bylan Evertide.”

“That is not a real last name.”

“It absolutely is. Got it out of the city database. There’s a whole Evertide clan in and around the city here.”

“It’s going to be all right, Bylan,” Elimiss said. “The police and court, I mean. If you’re telling the truth, we’ll be able to get confirmation from an oneiromancer or a cleric of Morosma. We’ll clear you of wrongdoing.”

“Aside from the negligence and sheer stupidity of a guy who talks in his sleep learning Dire Words and then not putting a silencing charm on himself when he goes to sleep,” Sanavah said. “Elimiss, don’t make promises to the kid that you can’t make good on.”

“I know it’s my fault,” the boy signed. “Charge me with whatever you want. I won’t fight it.”

“Not how it works,” Sanavah said. “You’ll get a public defender, and if you want to plead guilty, you’ll have to convince her that you actually are before she’ll let you plead it.” She looked over at Elimiss. “You took your own pheasant over here, or did you get a taxi?”

“Taxi,” Elimiss said. “I don’t have a place to take care of a pheasant, I live in an apartment.”

“Take Elimiss back with you,” she instructed the driver of the enclosed auto-wagon. “I don’t think the chief’ll be thrilled if he expenses another taxi.”

“Will do,” the wagon driver said, and spoke a word under his breath, that made the magical engine that drove the cart fire to life. Elimiss got in the wagon, and the forensics team either got on their own pheasants, or into pheasant-drawn carriages, because no one got rich enough on a cop salary to ride around in an auto-carriage.

As she saddled up her own pheasant, who squawked in mild irritation because the beast had been enjoying plucking seed pods off the nearby mimosa tree and snacking on them, she gazed over at what had been the Evertide home. “Hell of a thing,” she murmured. “Come on, Basil, let’s get back to the station.”

Basilica, a middle-aged hen pheasant who was known for her reliability and love of sunflower seeds, snorted, flapped her wings, and took off. Running pheasants – named that because they were actually faster on the ground than in the air – had native magic that allowed their wings to work despite their enormous size, and they could easily bear a human or two through the air. A running pheasant could cross the distance back to the station fast enough, if it was through open or forested territory, but being on the ground, in traffic, mildly upset most of them and absolutely freaked Basilica out, so Sanavah had to fly back to the station every time.

[calypsoff]

Thirty Four. Part 3

My thumb tightened around Robyn’ fingers, I feel judged by the doctor, but I am unsure if it is in a bad way or she is thinking “are you sleeping? I am looking at you and I am seeing that you don’t, to get better is for you to have inner strength. This whole rehabilitation is going to be hard work and for that you need rest and inner strength to do so” swallowing back slowly licking my lips “tell the truth Chris, you’re not going to get better this way by you just lying. How is anyone supposed to help Chris” Robyn said, she sounds hurt “I sleep and wake up, I don’t have sleep where I sleep through anymore. Any slight noise I wake up startled and my dad he would go to sleep same time as me so he wasn’t walking around because if he was I would assume someone is there, I then would get out of bed. Sleep is weird for me now, I would fall asleep on the couch with people around but that is because I felt safe but then at night, nothing. I would miss my family because I was busy sleeping. Since coming Cali, I think I slept an hour and came here. It’s hard to come here, I felt anxious to come here, I wanted to avoid this place, but I also didn’t want to be a disappointment because I did, I do disappoint a lot” the doctor was typing everything I said, every word “and you feel loss of confidence, anger, being on edge?” she asked “pretty much” licking my top lip, I refuse to look at Robyn and I won’t “the last week my dad didn’t want me to leave VA because I have been so on edge, he feels or felt he would lose me. But I came” she nodded her head looking at me in sadness “Chris I want to give you tablets just to make you sleep better at night” shaking my head “I don’t want it, I don’t want tablets to sleep because then I can’t wake up. I will never hear anything going on, I don’t want it. I don’t want to have tablets Simone” she looked by me, she is looking at Robyn “you’re going through PTSD” I laughed, it’s funny “I ain’t gone to war, it’s just phase” she sighed out “PTSD is not about going to war Chris, I am going to still give you the tablets” I am not having that shit, I refuse too “do you eat regularly?” shaking my head “when I want too” I think I am done here, I am tired of it.

The doctor got up from the chair “I am going to get your medication, I will be right back” she is giving me that shit like I want it, I really don’t want it “this is dramatic” I mumbled, it is too much I don’t understand. The door closed and I refuse to look at Robyn, I can’t do it. We sat in silence and Robyn didn’t even speak, maybe shock or just knows that I don’t want to speak about it “why didn’t you tell me?” I spoke too soon, she said something. Resting my arm at the side of the table sitting back “so you can be more ashamed of me, I don’t want that. I can’t be the man you wanted, the man you dreamt of all that time. All you got was a convict, a broken convict that is being dragged around like a child and now he can’t walk, you are the worlds princess and you got me? I didn’t want that and I don’t want it. I think we should break up, break up until I can be a man you want or if you get a better person by then so be it but I am breaking up with you, I can’t do this. I can’t keep up with the façade with you, I am not made for you Robyn” shaking my head, I can’t do it. I can’t keep up with her “I want you to break up with me but look me in the face and say it? I am not a mind reader Chris, I have not seen you in so long. We only speak on the phone, I needed you to tell me this but if you are going to break up with me then say it to my face and look me in the eye. I want you to tell me that you ain’t the man I want, the man that took me back to the place we met and had our first dance, took us to a cabin and gave me a bear of your own hoodie so we can never be apart. I want you to tell me you’re not the man for me Chris and I will go” my lower lip shaking as I closed my eyes “you’re guilt tripping me” I said, of course I cry “no, it’s the truth” shaking my leg up and down, opening my eyes “why” placing my hand over my eyes as I sobbed out “there is no why Chris, you are the man I want. Why would I want you for just the good times” feeling Robyn’ hand rest on the leg that was shaking “it’s ok” she mumbled.

I sniffled deeply moving my hand back “you’re an amazing man Chris, you really are. You just have had this bad luck that has followed you, and I wish that wasn’t you” I am crying out like a child “I can’t” I managed to say “you can’t what?” wiping my tears “this, I can’t look at you” the door opened “it’s good to cry too Chris” wiping the tears “you are very loved and you know it, look at the love you’re getting from Rihanna but I have prescribed you sleeping tablets and anti-depressants” shaking my head “depressants?” Robyn said “he mentioned he doesn’t want to be here, we need to take this seriously, he is feeling down. We need to stabilize his mood and the tablet will help with that, while antidepressants can treat the symptoms of depression, they do not always address its causes. This is why they're usually used in combination with therapy, I suggest this. First we get some sleep and start to stabilize that and therapy” I laughed “so now I am crazy, is that what you want me to say? I am fucking crazy, maybe it’s everything here right now. Maybe you’re the reason I don’t want to be here, you’re just judging me. I want to go” I said not looking at Robyn still “that is ok we can go” Robyn said, I am so over today, with everything on top of that “Chris, I will book you in to see you again in two weeks. You need to start your rehabilitation, be careful with your leg. Try and not knock it” getting up from the seat, holding the side “your crutches” Simone passed me my crutches “yeah, thanks for nothing” taking them from her, feeling Robyn pull up my sweatpants and pulling my top down, she patted my back “I will give you these for Chris, I really suggest therapy for him and this” they spoke behind me, I hopped off cause I am gone “how did this happen?” hearing Robyn say “trauma, the medication and the surgery. I have seen it in a lot of young adults, he will get better” I refuse to look at Robyn, so I just stared ahead.

Watching the bedroom door close, staring down at the bag of medication she gave, and I just instantly felt my heart ache. I didn’t know this, I didn’t know he was any of this, why didn’t I know “oh my god” I said to myself, what do I even do. I thought he was just being an asshole because he is good at being that I didn’t think he was depressed. Is this real life, I cannot believe it. Not my bright eyed poppa, he is such a good man, and he is this way. Did I push it, did what happened under my care push it. I am so hurt “how was it? Heard you both come in” I just broke down crying “I didn’t know” my mom is just in utter shock “what do you mean” I walked off just crying, I can’t do this while he can hear me. I am at fault; I didn’t protect him knowing he has been through shit I sent him alone. We fell out at that time too, I hate myself. And I was such a bitch to him already when he came, I just was angry he never came “Robbie, talk to me” my mom grabbed my arm “you can’t say anything to him, but I need someone to speak too” shaking my head as a little sob left my lips “he’s not feeling himself is he? I won’t say anything to him Robyn you know me” my mom rubbed my arm “he is the nicest man, he really is. He annoys me but it’s normal, why him. So his cast is off, and before we got there we had a little talk and disagreement, he said he didn’t want to speak to me” wiping my tears “so I was like fine, let’s not speak. Sat watching him, she took off his cast and he thought he lost feeling, but he hasn’t, he can feel his leg, but he can’t fully walk on it, it’s good news. So like the doctor and Chris were whispering, back and forth, I didn’t say anything, we go to the office” I swallowed shaking my head.

“So she started saying that the surgery, the medication and the situation can put you in disarray, you will feel mood swings, anxiety and depression. Then she asked him, how are you. And Chris’ demeanour just changed, staring at his face. Behind the whole mess, he just looked like a broken man and he admitted to finding it hard and he is tired. He is not sleeping, she says he is depressed, and he has PTSD and wants him to get therapy, she gave him tablets for it, but I failed him mom because I didn’t pick it up. I was working and busy, we spoke on the phone and that was it. He came, I was angry, this all happened because of me. He is depressed and I don’t know what to do, I can’t believe it. He doesn’t deserve this” hugging my mom “I saw it in his eyes, I just didn’t want to get involved. We don’t need to cry about it Robyn, we need to be strong about this” my mother said in my ear “he started saying about leaving me, he doesn’t want to be here. Not like just in Cali, just not here and you know how much that breaks my heart. This is killing me inside; he feels I am ashamed of him when I am not. I told him to say it and look at me, but he wouldn’t do it, what shall I do mom?” I don’t know what to do “relationships is not always about the good, you said Chris is a good man to you. He is a good man to me, even him feeling this way he has shown me so much respect. We can’t judge a man in this state, it’s so hard for a man in the black community to admit that they need help Robyn. He needs help and are you going to be tough enough to take it, if not then you need to help him back to his home” moving back from the hug “he hasn’t said it to me though, that he wants help” I still have his medication “why would he need too when he has just said it, if you are going to help him you can’t just stop. I would hate for anything to happen to Chris, he is sweet, and he makes you happy” nodding my head.

I am so unsure of what to do, how do I deal with this. I have this medication I took with me because I assumed I would be able to give it him but for an hour now, I have been contemplating on what to do. I have spent the last ten minutes outside the door, unsure to enter the room. He doesn’t look at me either, I have noticed that now. I need to do it; I need to know he is safe in the bedroom too. Pushing open the bedroom door, I can do it. I haven’t bought nay medication with me; I want to ask him if he wants food. Looking at the bed and Chris is just staring at the ceiling; I wonder how long he has been like that for “you want some food? I can make you mac and cheese? You like mine” I can make it him no problem, complete silence. It made me question if he was breathing but he is “just leave me, I mean leave me. I am not mentally right, I am not a man for you” closing the bedroom door “I told you what you need to do if you want me gone, because the man I know told me baby names and wanted us to get married. And I know he will be better; I am sorry Chris. I didn’t know you was struggling. Let me help you Chris, let me help you to get better. If you want, we can leave Cali and go somewhere else for it” seeing a tear fall “you want to get better, you do. And I want that for you” Chris flinched as the buzzer went off and this was the first time in a while Chris looked at me, putting my head down feeling overwhelmed with everything.

Looking up from my hands, Chris is still looking at me “what are you thinking? Look, I didn’t know. I was stupid, I am sorry for not knowing like I should have known, I have let you down, but I am going to do what I can to help. Even if you after want to leave me, that is fine, but I rather fix you before then because I feel at fault” I really do, I am at fault with this “I feel like I don’t deserve you, I really don’t” shaking my head “let’s put that aside, I really want you better. I want you to have the medication” Chris stared at me like I swore at me “no” I knew he would say that “why? Chris you don’t sleep, you need to sleep. Do you not want to get better, forget the depressants just take the sleeping ones” he has to take something “because then I won’t be alert, something could happen, and I am just asleep because of the tablets then what?” he spat “nothing will happen, I will be in bed with you, and nothing will happen. If I make you food, try and eat and then sleep? Just let’s work together and do this” Chris just remained silent “can you do it for me? If you don’t want me then you clearly want to be with me so?” I questioned, he knows I am right “mac and cheese” he mumbled, I guess that is my answer.

I had the nerve to want to crush this tablet in his food, but I didn’t, I rather just do it properly. Picking the tray from the counter but placed it back down seeing my phone ringing, oh Clinton is ringing me. Answering the call “hi, it’s different to see you call me?” I wasn’t expecting it “yeah, well I wouldn’t call you for nothing, but Chris isn’t picking up his phone, I have been trying all day. I know his appointment has been. Is my son ok?” that is not like Chris, he would pick up his dad’ call “Clinton, why didn’t you tell me?” I just wish I was told; the line went silent as he sighed out “he said he didn’t want you to know and that he will get through it, he wants to be normal for you but when he got there he was escalating and I begged him to let me know where he was because I was scared, he is so depressive. I wanted him to remain in VA, but he didn’t, he went there and said he would cut me off if I said. How is he?” that sounds like Chris “his cast is off; he has feeling in his leg which is good news. Just that he finds it painful to step on it. His little façade slipped, and the doctor prescribed him anti-depressants and sleeping tablets, I am going to get him a therapist. I will be here for him, I will get him the best help Clinton, I promise you I will make your son better. I didn’t know, if I did I would have helped him before, I would have came to him ages ago” I can only imagine how they feel as parents about this “this is on me, I left him on his own” I have to do this “Rihanna do not blame yourself, that was supposed to happen whether my son being there, it’s unfortunate but I would never blame you and you shouldn’t do that. If you are ok with him and you think you can deal with him, then that is fine, but can you tell him to answer my calls” Clinton is sweet “I will, if I can’t, I will call you” I think I can deal with him.

Kicking the door closed behind me “you want to sit up on the bed?” I said to him, Chris is staring at the ceiling again, probably ignoring me “Chris?” I said his name “I will eat at the table” oh so now he wants to eat at the table “that is fine, where is your phone? Your dad has been ringing” Chris touched his pockets “I put it in my pocket, I know I did” panicked look on his face “you had it in your hand in the SUV, it’s fine. I will get it back; you must have left in the SUV. I will leave your food on the table ok?” Chris nodded his head; I wonder what he is thinking about. I bet he is a thousands of things he is thinking about, I can’t blame him “are you actually going to come out?” I don’t trust him “yeah, coming” he mumbled, I guess I will just leave him to it because I can’t just be on his case for it but he isn’t getting off the bed either.

Fixing my bun on my head, shit is early. Like it has just turned ten and I am getting into bed “you didn’t really eat again, but” I dragged out “are you going to have the sleep tablet? I am literally going to be in bed with you, nothing will happen. We are in a different home, nobody knows we are here Chris” holding the box “look, it’s for sleeping. When you wake up I will be in bed with you still, please Chris. You will actually feel so much better with sleep, no worries or waking up” Chris stared at the tablets and then at my face “I really don’t deserve you; I can’t even stand to see your face because I don’t” he looked away from me “that is fine Chris, just take this and then I can get in bed. You don’t need to look at me but just know I do love you so much and if I knew I would have been with you so quick” popping the tablet out of the packet, Chris wiped his eyes “give me it” he said, he took the tablet from me “here, water too” passing him the bottle, I am so thankful he is taking the tablet. When I do look at him, he is not himself at all.

Pulling the covers over me, he is still awake, and I mean I don’t expect it to kick in so quick “it’s weird to feel bed covers on my leg, just to feel that softness. Wow” I laughed, it just made me laugh at him enjoying the simple things “I will try and sleep away from you, I don’t want to kick your leg now. But sorry if I do” I am terrible at it “how do you sing Stay and not want to breakdown every time?” random of him “I remove the song when I feel that way, I haven’t sang it these past few tour dates, but I find it hard, it hurts but I have to move on Chris. If I don’t then I am just going to forever feel pitiful, it’s hard” Chris and I are sleeping so far apart it is kind of making me laugh actually but I also don’t want to hurt him while I sleep either “I still think about it, I been a shit person this is why I get shit you know. Like if the guy just did it, the gun was there next to my head it would be instant. Then it would get better for every in time, I skipped death so many times I know my time is coming quick” I really want these tablets to kick in now “you think I am just going to forget you? I could have done that years ago, let’s change the subject. This is too much; I am just happy you’re here with me. I love you a lot Chris, let’s go to sleep on a high. Like not literally, but I am excited that you’re coming Barbados with me, you get to see my home, it’s so peaceful” I grinned “I don’t deserve that” he slurred out, oh they working “goodnight Chris” thank heavens.

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

13. Exposing the Void Pt. 1

A lot of this chapter is straight up Simon’s thoughts, so it gets jumbled and possibly confusing. Let me know if there’s parts where things are unclear (most likely in those times, we’re inside of Simon’s thoughts). Word Count: 5969. Trigger Warnings: Self harm, child death, child abuse, mental instability, mental abuse, dehumanization, betrayal, delusions, intrusive thoughts... 

This chapter was actually the hardest for me to write in this story, thus far. And please keep in mind that in this space, there is no ableism allowed. So, refrain from using terms about psychosis or mental illness as insults towards the characters. The purpose is not to blame Simon’s actions on poor mental health or to excuse his behavior due to his trauma. The purpose is to understand a story in a world where mental illness is not necessarily the cause of why some people do evil things, but is sometimes a factor (not usually, as mentally ill people are generally more likely to hurt themselves than others), but yes, there are occasions where our psychosis can led to dangerous outbursts. Please don’t use the phrase “Go psycho” when referring to any variation of Simon Laurent, even this one. Thank you.

Previous

Simon was getting a tattoo. He’d already decided that much. He didn’t know of what, but he was convinced that he would think of something. It seemed healthier than self harm, at least… and a professional would mark him in this scenario. 

He had a full course on his schedule, additional hours of extracurricular activities and work, plus interviews and maintaining his website. Plenty to do to keep his mind off of it - the void. His nostrils flared just thinking about it. Sometimes, he found himself checking social media for updates from a backup account. He had been blocked under his personal and professional ones. But, it wasn’t back. The last post was the same post that had been shared to each of them by its team.

“Hello, Apex Members. On behalf of The Internet’s Honey, Miss Grace Monroe, we would like to express the sincerest apologies for the negativity that has been spread and for the things that Miss Monroe stands accused of. She is seeking help at a secure location, and it is our hope that she will return to you soon, in all of her glory, fully restored, healthy and well.”

The comments were thousands of “Fuck Grace Monroe. She’s cancelled.” etc. He had been amused before, but the more comments that were added, the more numb he became to them. He was numb to many things… still somehow… it left its mark on him. He pulled up his sleeve and looked at his tallies… it left several. “Fuck Grace Monroe,” he whispered, shook his head and said in a louder, more confident tone, “Fuck the void.” A little mantra before his early AM classes. 

Whenever he got home, though… He went through a range of emotions for a while. Everybody lies to me. Everybody leaves me… Even when nothing had anything to do with this thought process, if he wasn’t focused deeply on something else, there were the thoughts. Sometimes, even when he WAS working on something else. The thing about living alone and being at home was that he had a lot of time to get trapped in his harmful thoughts, and no Grace there to ease things. Not anymore.

It started with his mother. She was only going to be gone “for a little while.” 

Simon wasn't confident in his abilities to watch himself AND a younger person. He was a cub scout and even a careful child, but he knew that Hope could be a handful, sometimes even for their parents. “I don’t think I can watch Hope, Mom.”

“Oh, of course you can, Simon!” She cheered. “It’s only for a little, short, while, and you’re my capable little man.”

Hope laughed and said, “He’s not a man. He’s Simon.”

“If Mom says I’m a man, then I am!”

Their mom clarified, “He’s a big boy who gets to be man of the house when Mommy and Daddy aren’t here. Mommy’s Little Man. You’ve got this, Si. Like I said, only a little while.” She tousled his hair and filled him with confidence that he had not had a few minutes prior… then she was gone for what felt like forever. 

18 year old Simon knew that she had only been gone for 2 hours, but as a 10 year old watching a 4 year old who didn’t want to be watched by a “fake man,” it seemed like a lengthy stretch of time. With Hope doing things that she knew she shouldn’t, taunting him by telling him that he’s a fake man and that’s why he couldn’t stop her, and whenever she tried to go into the attic, that was the last straw. He had gotten really mad at her. She had been teasing him, calling him a fake man, a little baby, a small, small Simon… He didn’t mean to hurt her, but he was offended by her name calling. He was only going to drag her into her room and make her have a time out. 

18 year old him knew that he was angry when he grabbed her by the back of her shirt, as hard as he could, upset with her, but also needing to get her off of the ladder and into her room. 10 year old him yanked her off of the ladder and flung her to the floor beneath them with rage. She let out a screaming laugh whenever she went flying down, but when she hit the floor… she became silent. 

Simon shook his head. That wasn’t my fault. I was a child! The void had been right about that. “Who leaves a 10 year old home alone with a 4 year old?” He heard her voice ask, when they were kids. More than that - Who tells a boy that young that he is trusted with the life of a smaller child? That he’s “a man” because you need a little favor? Two. Hours!  

He still didn’t know how long he had sat there trying to wake Hope up before their mother came back or where she was at that time, but wherever she was, he hoped she thought about it every single day that she tried to blame him. He hoped it ate away at her and corrupted her from the inside out until her health faded and her heart stopped. He didn’t always feel that way. 

When he was 10, he blamed himself. He loved his mother. He wanted her back. He wanted to be her little man again, even though he failed her. He was still so young and confused, and nobody was helping him to understand it all. He couldn’t answer why he didn’t call 911. He was scared. He was crying. He... just didn’t think about it at the time. He hadn’t been prepared for an emergency.It was supposed to just be a little while! I was supposed to be the man of the house. Nothing bad was supposed to happen on my watch...

It continued with his father. So furious with his wife’s decision that he couldn’t stand to share the same breathing space with her most of the time. Unfortunately, that also meant not sharing it with Simon. He told Simon that he didn’t blame him. He lied. Some part of him had to, because otherwise, why would he have left him with the woman who had been so irresponsible that they already lost one child? Because… he died in his father’s eyes that night, too. The man was just too much of a coward to admit it. So, he just… left.

And Grace… He almost started crying, but shook his head and shook her it out of his mind. “Void,” he said and clenched his fists. Still… He missed her it. She It was the only thing that used to be able to get his mind off of his family, his pain, his guilt, his rage… 

For so long, she it was the only thing. Now, he was left to just force himself to live through this. He was better off. It was going to stop his full potential. It had already stunted him so much. He spent years building a fortress for it and throwing himself in front of everything that came its way. Never again. 

.

After they began officially dating, she was acting weird and he let it go. This was new for both of them and she was still trying to figure out her sexuality. He thought he was extremely understanding about her characteristics. As a matter of fact, up until the moment that he realized that she was a liar, he found no flaws in her at all. He loved all of her, perfect in every way and in the ways that she wasn’t, he never took notice. He just re-imaged those things as perfect, because they were things that were of Grace. Being a snobby, rich bitch - fine. Being lazy and irresponsible, sure. Being wishy-washy and confusing… he didn’t love that, but he accepted it and always assumed that maybe he was mistaken, or maybe she was the confused one in those moments. He never thought that she was deceiving him. Now, it was all that he could think about.

How many lies she must have told him over the years, how much of his childhood and adolescence was built upon those lies… He had to try to void everything that he had ever known her to be from his life, and from his mind.

“Do you not love me?”

“I do!”

Had he not been so blinded by his love, he would have known that she didn’t mean it. He would have heard it in her tone. He would have seen it in her eyes. “The void was just that good,” he told himself. “It tricked everyone. You watched it work for so long, you thought that you were exempt. It cares about nothing but itself.”

She seemed like she was withdrawing from him. He didn’t want to see it at the time, but he knew what that looked like. He couldn’t stop his mother from doing it. He couldn’t stop his father from doing it. He couldn’t even keep the pet cat around! How does one even run off an animal? 

The point was… he saw Grace leaving. He saw her packing up. He saw her setting out. He did everything he could possibly think of to prevent it, even before she realized that she was leaving. But, when somebody wants to get away from you, they’ll do whatever you let them do to get away. She should have thanked him. He not only let her go, but he removed her completely. That’s what she wanted, anyway. She made that decision herself. “The void would have taken everything from you. Everything you worked for. Everything you’ve built. Everything you set in place to manage without the liars, the leavers, the lost ones…” 

She first began slipping away from him before they became official. She started having problems with things that she didn’t have problems with previously… Honestly, she started the moment that she chose to leave him behind to tour for the summer when they were 15. The previous 5 years,  she had plenty of times she could have went on the road. She either blew off her auditions or she didn’t push herself as hard. She had said that she could show off her skills on the Internet and have just as big of a following, if not a bigger one than if she built a resume of dance troupes and traveling ballet. She even forfeited the chance to be in a Broadway production, because she was worried that she’d never get to see him again. Then, when they were 15… It became more important to her than him.

He tried not to take it personally, because she had sacrificed plenty of opportunities for him before. But, it was a bad time for him, and a busy time and… he needed her. He always needed her back then. He had never been prepared to not have her. Sure, he could have went with her, like she wanted, but if HE put off his things, he didn’t have rich parents to fall back on. He didn’t have parents to fall back on, period. She… was in more of a position to give up her goals… but she had decided not to. That was fair. He told himself many times every day that was fair and she deserved to choose herself sometime. She came back changed… or maybe he changed without her there. That much doesn’t matter, right now. What matters is that he TRIED to fix them. She leaned more into these changes. These changes that could tear them apart. Changes that would leave him lonely again, for the first time in years.

Grace was working on her music career junior year. After the tour, she had connections that she didn’t want to go cold. She would throw herself into those and into creation while Simon was working on a future that he still hoped was for both of them. He was working his ass off for them, but in hindsight, she was working hers off for herself. After she was Simon’s girlfriend, at school, things felt different for her. Everybody treated her exactly the same way that they always had, but everything was just different. 

Simon was either more social than she knew him to be, or had gotten that way overnight. Then again… He was in StuCo and held a position… so he had the social skills to at least win people over. She supposed that she hadn’t noticed because he was the one who she always had to talk out of a fight. He was more than that, of course, but… she guessed that she hadn’t realized how many friends he must’ve had, because he was doing a lot and having to leave her behind, most of the time.

Most times, he gave her a quick rundown of what type of stuff he had to do for the day, kissed her on the cheek, promised to see her later and rushed off. She chalked it up to the busy schedule that he had been speaking about for this year, at least a year in advance, and didn’t think much of it. At least, whenever they had space, she didn’t have to wonder what to do next. She didn’t have to decide if she should be sitting in his lap like his friend’s girlfriend, or in between his legs like that girl across the way, or straddling him like Shana sometimes did whoever she was dating, or… sit there, with her book, pretending not to see any of it and smiling at Simon whenever they made eye contact. 

Simon was always studying her, surveying, making inventory of her expressions and potential emotions. She could feel him investigating and she didn’t know what to do with that. He didn’t know what to do with his findings… Why was she so uncomfortable when he looked at her? Why did she shy away from his gaze? What was wrong with her that she didn’t want his attention? She always wanted attention… it was basically her identity! Not only did she start to seemingly have problems with his attention, but also the rest of the world’s attention.

Being trapped in her room most of the time meant more work on her music. Anytime she posted something new, someone always showed up to remind others of how she "accosted an innocent woman on the train and threatened to ruin her life if she sought justice" and that she "is actually a terrible person." Sure, her fans defended her, but her focus was stuck on the negative feedback. Simon told her, “Don’t worry about those nulls. You’re Apex royalty. They’re scrubs.” He wasn’t remotely concerned about it. 

Simon had asked himself if he had defended her to them, would things have been different between them… but the previous times he had defended her, she got mad at him! It took him days to get her back to normal, and even then, she seemed tepid. She was letting a bunch of strangers on the Internet doubt herself. 

“She let a bunch of nulls weigh in on her confidence, then she got made at ME for agreeing with her parents that it was weak of her. It was! The Apex doesn’t care about the opinions of nulls!” He realized that he was speaking of the void like it was a person again. Personifying it. Humanizing it. That was sometimes difficult not to do. He would tap into his disappointment, hurt, and anger and he knew it was because of this rot that had spread in his life for years. 

But, every now and then a glimmer of her smile, her smell, her softness would hit him in the heart and he would forget about it temporarily. For a few moments, she would be the love of his life again… “It doesn’t care about you. It never did. The void is a parasite. It would have poisoned everything, if you hadn’t cut the head off and incapacitated it.”

He glanced over at a mannequin head designed to look like it. It had given him the idea, inadvertently whenever it jokingly accused him of being a life size figurine of himself. Immediately, he thought - I’ve gotta make her one of those! It was a passion project, and of course, he didn’t have a lot of time to work on it, but the head was complete by the time it showed itself as the hollow it was.

.

Grace felt like she hadn’t smiled for real in a while. Nobody really noticed. The Apex didn’t know her that well. Simon didn’t have time for her. Her parents probably never cared. She went into town with her flock of girls, these days. She felt like Simon was sending them to be around her and she didn’t know if that was sweet or creepy. But, she ditched them at the mall to go to see him. He was at work that night, at the learning center. He had a job helping to tutor struggling kids - one that his credits as a student tutor at the Academy, his grades, his position as one of the students enrolled in the early college program, and a recommendation from Mr. Monroe got him hired at, despite the fact that most of the staff here were actual educators. 

They didn’t even know about the fact that Simon had started a business of doing people's homework, projects, sometimes their tests from the time he was 11 until he was 15. He was definitely qualified for tutoring, but it was her father’s recommendation that really gave him the edge over actual teachers. He was satisfied enough there. He still did a project or two for the rich kids when he could squeeze something in, for extra cash. He was saving up to move out of his dad’s house. Now that his mother was at her mother’s, his dad was considering leaving the military and coming home. Simon didn’t want to be around for that, but there never seemed to be enough money for anything. That was his “adult” experience… Working all of the time, going to school, barely hanging on to his sanity, and yet being so broke that had his father not still been paying the bills, he knew he might be homeless and starving… so it was presumable that's how he might live once Mr. Laurent got back.

He couldn't ask the Monroes for more help. They had practically been taking care of him for the past two years. Mr. Monroe, at least, had been helpful in ways that Simon couldn’t describe. Sure, he believed he would have figured things out for himself , but thanks to the Monroes, he hadn't had to. He intended to pay them back eventually, but for now, he worked hard and loved Grace with everything else he had. 

"Hey." He heard her say, walking in with a bag and a cup holder. His smile was wide and his eyes lit up. That made her reflexively smile back. How many of those smiles were fake, he’d have to wonder for as long as he couldn’t shake her out of his mind. “Ditched the girls to bring you dinner. Didn’t know if you’d have a chance to get to some on your own.”

He checked the time on his phone, “Actually, you’re right on time. I was about to go into the computer room and work on homework before I head out.”

“Yeah! Great timing is a thing that I definitely usually don’t have.” 

They went into the breakroom to eat and Simon was on his phone, furrowing his eyebrows and blocking people in Grace’s comments. She glanced over and saw, then sank in her seat, not wanting to think about her latest post. “This sounds really good, Grace,” he told her.  And he meant it. The vocal coach that she had began to see so that she could confidently transition into singing was paying off. It wasn’t that she sounded bad before, but her voice was pretty bland and she didn’t seem to be able to find her range on her own. 

“I wish the audience thought that,” she said, with a sigh. The Internet was making her depressed and isolated. Every thing that she shared came with thousands of critics. As someone used to only either being complimented or ignored, criticism hurt a little more than she would have expected. Perhaps because she was too popular and therefore attracted more feedback than a person probably should have to be faced with at 16.

Regardless of that, Simon shrugged and said, “Anybody who doesn’t like it doesn’t have to listen to it. They’re there, so they obviously wanted to hear the song. Besides, I see way more support than hate.” 

“Maybe so, but there’s a LOT of hate, and it’s very aggressive and hurtful. Like… I don’t understand why me trying out a new song and someone not liking it can’t just be scrolled by. Why did this girl have to tell me: Ugh. Everybody tries to be a singer. You’re a lip gloss model, Honey. Keep doing that. Beautiful gowns.”

“Because, she’s a bitch,” Simon said and took a bite of his sandwich. Grace let out an irritated sigh that caused him to look up from his phone. “What?”

“You just… don’t get it.”

“What don’t I get? The song sounds good. You have excellent equipment. You wrote pretty clever lyrics, did your own music, sang and was proud enough of your work to share it with the world. Now that a few birds have come squawking, you no longer see the greatness in what you shared? I know you wouldn't have posted it if you didn’t think it was perfect. So, I get it more than you do. You’re distracted by someone with a crooked wig on in her profile picture?” 

Grace looked at the profile picture and saw that the woman’s wig definitely had been sadly placed onto her head. She laughed about it  and laughed at herself a little too… but this was always Simon’s reaction to her venting about the people that made her feel bad. He’d basically make her feel a little bit worse by not acknowledging that her feelings were valid and by pointing out how insignificant her critics were. The simple fact that he had a point, that they were nulls, and she was letting them upset her only made her feel worse, which she couldn’t tell him because he didn’t seem to take her feeling bad that seriously anyway. 

She knew it was because she had always prided herself on being strong and not caring what people thought about her… but she was handled a lot differently outside of her echo chamber. The Internet was global and her following was high, but some of the people who followed her seemed to do it just to see what to complain about, just to make a dent in her day. They succeeded, too. But, the only person she could admit it to just told her to suck it up. 

“I’m thinking about going to a performing arts college,” she said. Simon dropped his phone and stared at her. She smiled awkwardly and said, “I mean… You’re preparing pretty hardcore for college and I’ve dived into this music thing. Maybe, I ought to be more serious about it and actually get the official credentials..”

“Where are you thinking of going?”

“I’m thinking of trying to go to Julliard.” He relaxed a little bit at that. Juilliard was in New York. That would be farther from him than he  would like, but if he was at MIT, that would be about an hour away and if he was at Princeton… well… That would be 3 hours, or more… but… He had enough time to put these things into his planning and decision making. “Or… I might go uh, overseas.” Now, his frown was embedded in all of his features. “If I can’t get into the best one in the world, I’m going to shoot for the next best… that’s in Austria…” She bit her lip, waiting for his demeanor to change, hoping that he just had to think about it for a moment. His demeanor did change, but he seemed further away from what she wanted of him at the moment. “What brought this on?” He asked.

“Just… want to get more serious about my craft. Sure, I can spend hours and hours a day working on choreography and songs, training with some of the best professionals in the entire world, but people are still coming onto my dance video posts and saying things like, “I didn’t know that Grace Monroe could dance! I love her more now!” Didn’t know that I could dance? That’s like… the ONE THING that I can do with complete confidence! I’m trying to get my music career started when my first talent isn’t even recognized…”

“It IS recognized! It’s recognized ALL of the time. You’re just so focused on the dregs that don’t recognize, that you’re willing to go 4000 miles away from me, for years, to impress strangers on the Internet who probably STILL won’t fuck with you, because most of the people inciting you are people who just don’t like you, Grace!” He let out a chuckle of disbelief, but she hated it.

“Don’t laugh,” she said, very seriously.

“I’m not laughing,” he said, shook his head, then slumped back in his seat, resting his face in his palm as he tried to collect himself. 

"How could you have possibly taken everything that I just told you about how I'm feeling and what I intend to try to do about that and just… make it about you?"

He uncovered his face to look at hers. She looked like she was going to cry. He hated when she cried. It was too far away from her normal… at least it used to be. She was crying more and more lately. Sometimes from the littlest things.

"If you can't see how much a decision like that will affect both of us, then I'm not sure if I currently am in the mood to explain it to you."

"Whenever I shared my thoughts about how much people were hurting my feelings, you didn't care about how that could affect the both of us. You just expected me to deal with it on my own. This is my idea for how I deal with that."      

He leaned his elbows on the small table, steepled his fingers and rested his head against his hands. She wants to leave you. She’s using the excuse that people are hurting her feelings so that she can leave you and never come back. She never wanted you. She made that clear and you refused to see it. You thought that it was your brain being mean to you. She lied to you. She never loved you and she never wanted you. Now, she’s pretending that worthless people make her feel bad… She would rather look WEAK to you than to stay with you… 

“Simon?” She said. He scoffed. Fake concern. Don’t let her trick you with her soft voice. She’s venomous. She let you love her because she was bored, and now, she’s trying to abandon you like everyone else. “Simon,” she said, more stern. Drown her out. Drown her out. Drown her out. Drown her… “Simon!” She had gotten up and turned his face to look at her with her palm. She made him look into her eyes and he was powerless again. “Where’d you go?” She asked, smiling nervously.

“Did I do something wrong? Why do you want to leave me?” He asked, in a small voice. Maybe his brain was being mean right now. Maybe… it was all a misunderstanding? PLEASE, JUST TELL ME YOU LOVE ME AND THAT I’M OVERREACTING! I. WILL. BELIEVE. YOU.

“No. I did. I thought that I was ready to introduce myself to the world and now that the world knows me, there’s people out there who can’t stand me and I just… I don’t know how to do with that. In real life, they at least pretend to like me, you know?”

She rubbed her hands together anxiously. Lies. She can’t possibly care about the way these strangers feel. She’s Grace Monroe. She knows that she’s invincible. Caring about the movements of ants is futile… “Okay… What do you need me to do to fix it?” He asked, trying to ignore his brain’s warnings.

“Just, support me? I just want to take a step back from all the Internet music, maybe keep creating and try to get into a studio with something I’m proud of, instead of posting onto my websites, and… I really want to try to go to school, just to be more confident that I really do belong in the industry and that I’m not just Internet famous because I was a pretty face with the best organic lip gloss.”

“Support you… leaving me,” he said. 

She couldn’t pick up any emotion. It was like something had settled in his mind. Something that he didn’t let her know. “It would be temporary, Simon. Just like whenever you thought you would have to go to the military after graduation.”

“I recall very minimal support from you in regards to that.”

“Yeah, well… I stick by what I said. Our military is a global terrorist, oppressing and destroying civilization in mostly Brown nations. Juilliard is hardly like that, and I most likely will get in! I don’t think I'll HAVE to go to Austria. I wanted to be clear that it’s an option.  I just meant the time that we’ll be apart. Plus, I’d send for you if you ever need to see me.” She knelt beside him, cupped his face and kissed him on the lips. He froze in place. She NEVER kisses you on the lips. She always moves her face to make you kiss her on the cheek, or the nose, or… something. She’s placed her hand between your mouths, before! You can’t ignore this any further. It’ll break your heart. You’ve lost her. There’s a void where your Grace once was… Tears fell down Simon’s cheeks as he stared at Grace’s confused face.

She wiped them away with her thumbs and as his tears were being cleared away, so was her face. He just saw a blurry form in front of him, a dark shadow, with an aura of smoke. He looked terrified. She turned to look behind her, alarmed by his reaction, thinking something was hovering over her. She definitely felt a switch of things in the atmosphere. She didn’t see anything though. Simon did.

A void. It stood in front of him, speaking with Grace’s voice and trying to pass itself off as the girl he’d loved for as long as he knew her. That girl was obviously gone. No longer fit for him. No longer fit for the Apex. “Okay.” He said, suddenly fine, as far as she could tell. “I’ll support you.” She offered him a small, confused smile, but he didn’t return it. He didn’t even look at her again. He collected their trash, threw it out and took her hand, “I’ll get you home. 

.

Simon was silent the entire way to the Monroe’s estate. He didn’t get out to get her door, or walk her to the mansion, or talk with her father, so she knew that even though he said he was okay with her decision, that he wasn’t. It was best to just give him his space to work it out, she thought. She thought wrong... Simon tensed up whenever she kissed him on the cheek goodnight. As soon as she got out of the car, he peeled away, vigorously wiping the Apex red lip print from his face. She didn’t deserve to grant anybody that mark anymore. 

He drove with trembling hands and lips, talking to himself, arguing with himself about Grace. Grace that once hunted down his bullies with him because she thought he was the most important person in the world. Grace who had threatened anyone who so much as said something rude to him in passing. Grace... who used to want to be near him, and have his back. The Grace that couldn’t stand the thought of being anywhere without him at her side... She was as dead to him as Hope was. 

Speaking of... This had began right around the time that she brought him to the cemetery. Was it related? Had Hope somehow reached over and taken her vengeance on him by stealing away his Grace and replacing her with this dark spirit? This ghost? This VOID??? He pulled into the garage of his house, crying again. He left his backpack in the car. He wasn’t going to be doing anymore work that night. He passed the shrine that his father had in the workspace every time he pulled in, but usually, he avoided looking at it. Tonight, he paused and stared at her face. He... had forgotten it. He looked at the photos, wondering if she always looked that way? Not the angel that he remembered dying, but something sinister, smiling joyously at him as he shriveled in pain. “Did you do this?” He asked her. He could hear her laughs in his mind from that night. Her taunting him, making him feel like he wasn’t enough. “I didn’t mean it, Hope! It was an accident!” he yelled at the photos. 

“Fake man! Fake man! Wook at the widdle baby man! Can’t catch me! You’re not a man! Mommy lied! Mommy lied!” 

“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to. I didn’t... Please, just... stop.” He whispered, crying more than he had in a long time. Her photos began to move, to cackle, to point at him and call him a baby man... He roared and punched the display, breaking the glass of the frame, which fell on it’s face, bounced off of the desk and crashed to the floor. Now, it was covered in blood. Only a bit of it was from his fist... the rest seemed to be seeping from the cracks in the frame. Like... he had killed Hope, all over again. He picked up a shard of the glass and clenched it in his fist. This was too much. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. This was his mind messing with him, He needed to center himself.

He raised his sleeve and looked at all of the tally marks that he had made for his Grace and he began to add on to them. “1 You are stronger than anybody you know. 2 You are smarter than anybody you know. 3 You can survive losing Grace. 4 Only you can get rid of the void that swallowed her whole. 5 You owe the Apex to get rid of the void. 6 You can do anything. 7 There’s nobody who could stop you. 8 You’re on your own now, but that’s for the best. 9 No one will hold you back. 10 No one can hurt you again, because everyone you loved is gone...” He took a deep breath, looked at the broken frame and threw his piece of glass on top of it. He didn’t even care about cleaning it up. The girl in the photo couldn’t hurt him anymore. And neither could the one in his memories... The one that he used to call Grace, “The void,” he said, going into the house. 

Next

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me -Chapter 66

Warning: brief mentions of violence towards women and children

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @alievans007​

“Do you know that Saju was a real person?”

Millie’s eyes are blown wide with a mixture of fascination and disbelief as she lies next to him in bed; on her side with her body tucked securely against his. When he’d woken up, the three oldest had been gathered around him. Fast asleep and somehow making an enormous double king feel impossibly small; effectively trapping him within its confines with one child pressed against his back and another his stomach, and  the third curled into a ball, placed directly at the back of  his knees.  It had been slightly cramped and awkward  but oddly soothing at the same time. The tickle of their skin and hair against bare flesh, the slight yet comforting weight of little arms draped over him and the feel of their bodies rising and falling with each inhale and exhale of breath.

There’s not much in Tyler’s life that he’s proud of. The job isn’t  exactly a career that fills you with a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment and the baggage he carries from past mistakes and bad decisions is often overwhelming and exhausting. But those kids...HIS kids...so innocent and beautiful and pure with their unwavering faith and trust in him...are the only things that DO fill him with pride. Knowing that someone like him -with a lifetime of trauma, regret and guilt- could actually have had a hand in creating something so incredible. That somewhere along the line he MUST have redeemed himself. How else would he be worthy enough to be a dad again? To be given that that second chance after fucking it so badly the first time?

“I do,” he confirms. “I do know that.”

Millie rolls over onto her back, settling into the crook of his arm. Fingers fidgeting with the bracelets on his wrist as he wraps an arm around her,  hand resting lightly on her stomach.  “Do you know that he was Anil’s big brother?”

Tyler nods.

“Anil said that Saju...the real Saju...used to take care of Ovi because Ovi’s dad had to go away for a long time. Ovi didn’t have a mommy?”

“His mommy died when he was little. Very little. Just a bit older than Declan.”

“Oh no…” she pouts, and her eyes fill with tears. “...poor Ovi’s mommy. And poor Ovi. I’d be so sad if my mommy died. I’d miss her so much.”

“Your mom’s not going anywhere,” Tyler assures her, and tightens his hold on her and drops a kiss on the top of her head. “So don’t worry about that. Don’t even think about it, okay?”

Millie nods.  “Where did Ovi’s dad go? And why does he have to be gone for so long?”

“Not all dads are good dads.  Or good people,” he explains. “He did some bad things and he had to pay for those bad things.”

“The police took him away? And put him in jail? That’s where they go right? When the police catch them.”

“Yep.”

“What did he do that was so bad?”’

“Things you don’t need to know about.:

Millie frowns. “How come there’s so many things you say I don’t need to know about?”

“Because you’re six and I’m your dad, and you’re still little enough where I get to decide what you need to know. And you don’t need to know these things.”

“Did he kill people?”

“Amelia…”

“Daddy…”

“You don’t need to know. It’s adult stuff. He’s in jail and he’s there for a reason.”

“Are you going to jail for killing people? I don’t want you to go to jail. I’d miss you.”

“I’m not going to jail,” Tyler assures her. “What I do? That’s totally different.”

“Because those people deserve it? The ones you kill? They deserve to die?”

“Exactly.”

“‘Cause they’re bad.”

“Very bad.”

“Not like jaywalking or littering but really, really bad. Like kick puppies bad.”

“Even worse than kicking puppies.”

Her eyes widen. “Kicking little kids?”

“Worse.”

“Holy shit! That’s really, really, really, REALLY bad. No wonder you kill them. I’d want to kill them just for kicking puppies, to be honest. Anyone kicks Saju...MY Saju...I’m head butting them in the nuts.”

“I don’t know about heat butting someone THERE, but…”

“I know you said never to hit a boy there, but they deserve it if they kick Saju. And I’m telling you right now, if any boy ever gets mouthy with him or gets touchy with me even when I tell him no, I will rip his balls off.”

He can’t help but laugh at that, and he’s grinning as he drops a kiss on the top of her head. “Atta girl. That’s what I want to hear.”

“Were you and Saju friends?” Millie inquires. “The real Saju?”

“Sort of, I guess.”

“Anil said that he helped you save mommy and Ovi. Is that true?”

“That’s true.”

“So he was a good guy then?”

“In the end he was. We didn’t get along at first. We had a big fight.”

“Like fighting with words?”

“The other kind of fighting.”

“Did you beat him up?”

“It’s pretty safe to say we beat each other up. He was tough. Strong.  Never gave up. He had to do things to protect his wife and his little boy. Trying to hurt me was one of those things.”

“So you weren’t mad at him?”

“Not at the end. Not when I found out why he was doing the things he was. He was doing them for his family. I totally understand that; I’d do the same thing if it were you guys. Nothing I wouldn’t do to make sure you’re all safe.”

“That’s why we ended up here. So the bad couldn’t get to us. And I kept my promise. I never told Tanner or Tyler what I know. I don’t want them to be scared. They’re my little brothers.”

“Are YOU scared?”

“Not really. Because you’re here. I’m never scared when you’re around.”

Those words are so simple yet manage to hit so powerfully and deeply; her blind faith and trust in him both  a blessing and a curse. And he can’t stop the tears that well in his eyes and kisses her temple and wraps his arm around her even tighter; eyes closing and chin resting on the top of her head.

“Daddy?”

“Millie?”

“How did you and mommy meet? If she lives all the way in Colorado and you always lived in Australia, how did you meet her? Was she on a trip? Is that how?”

“Auntie Nik introduced us.”

“But how? How did she do it if you guys lived so far apart? I know that you met mommy where you used to live. Where Koen lives now. But I don’t understand how mommy ended up there. That’s what I want to know?”

“Why DO you want to know?”

“Because I do. Because I like knowing things. And I like hearing about you and mommy and how you met and what you guys were like before I came along.”

“We were pretty much like we are now. And Auntie Niuk brought her to my place because she had a job for us to do. Together.”

Millie’s eyes widen. “Mommy kills people too?”

“Not that is NOT what I said. Mommy’s crazy smart, right?”

“Right.”

“And I’m crazy strong, yeah?”

“Yup.”

“So Auntie Nik wanted us to work together because your mom could use her brains to find the bad guys and then I could use my strength to punish them. Understand?”

“So mommy helped you catch them?”

“Basically.”

“Oh, okay…”  she runs her fingertips over the bracelet that matches the much smaller one on her own wrist. “Where’s Dhaka?”

Tyler frowns. “What do you know about Dhaka?”

“I know you and mommy went there. I know that’s where you almost died. I know things, daddy. I hear things.”

“It’s not nice to eavesdrop, you know.”

“It’s not  my fault Uncle Koen talks so loud. Is it true that it was Ovi you and mommy had to get from the bad guys?”

“Yes. It’s true.”

“He was just a little boy then?”

“A teenager. Fourteen. The bad guys took him. To Dhaka.”

“Where is that?”

“Bangladesh.”

“Where’s that? Is it far from here? I want to go there.”

“It’s about two hours from here if you fly. And no. You don’t. You don’t want to go there.”

“And is it true that you and mommy had to pretend to be married?”

“That’s true too.”

“Kinda funny that you had to pretend at first but then got married for real. Is that because you found out you loved her? Is that when you fell in with her? Is Dhaka the place?”

“I guess that’s where it started. I didn’t fall in love with her right away. I know that I liked her. A lot.”

“And you thought she was pretty?”

“I thought she was REALLY pretty.”

“And she thought you were cute and had really nice eyes and big muscles.”

He chuckles. “Apparently.”

“Daddy…” she rolls over onto her stomach, elbows on the bed and her chin in her upturned palms. “...can I ask you something?”

“I don’t see why not. You’ve been asking me things for the last half hour.”

“Is that where I ended up in mommy’s tummy? In the Dhaka place?”

“Yep. That’s exactly where it happened.”

“But you guys didn’t know each other that well. So how did I end up in there? How’d you and mommy end up making me if you didn’t know each other that well? If you didn’t love her yet? Isn’t that how babies are made? ‘Cause mommies and daddies love each other?”

“Sometimes, yeah. But your mom and I really liked each other and some things happened and well, here you are.”

“Hmmm…”

“What’s that mean?”  He reaches across his body with his free arm; combing his fingers through her unruly hair. “What does ‘hmmm’ mean? That doesn’t sound like a good ‘hmmm’.”

“But you and mommy love each other now, yeah?”

“Of course we do. I love your mommy very much.”

“And all of my brothers and Addie came ‘cause you love each other, right?”

“Love is part of it, yeah.”

“So does that mean I’m not as special as them? ‘Cause you didn’t love mommy when I was made? Does that mean I'm not as good as everyone else?”

Tyler scowls. “No, That’s not what it means at all. Why would you even think that? Hey…”  he hooks a finger under her chin and gently tilts her face up towards him. His heart aching when he sees the tears that fall from those huge blue eyes. “...what’s wrong? Tell me. Talk to me.”

“If you didn’t love mommy when I was made, does that mean I’m not as special as everyone else?”

“This NOT what it means. At all. Why…”

“Is there something wrong with me? Does it mean I’m different? Everyone else came ‘cause you loved mommy and I came because...I don’t know...I don’t know why I came.”

“Babies don’t always come because people love each other. Sometimes they just happen. And you...well...you just happened. And you happened for a reason. For a VERY good reason. Probably the best reason.”

“Yeah?” She sniffles. “What’s that?”

“Because your mom was the first person...in a long time...that made me feel like a good guy. I was in a bad, horrible place in my head and I was doing bad things trying to hurt myself because I thought I deserved to hurt.   And then I met your mom and she was different than anyone else I’d met before her. She didn’t look at me like I was a bad person and she didn’t make me feel like one, either. So yeah, I didn’t know her that well when you were made. But I did know that she was pretty freaking amazing and that she made me feel things I hadn’t felt in a long time. I was broken and I was empty and your mom fixed those things. And I LET her fix them. You’re here because of that. Because your mom made me feel human again and made me feel like I deserved to be here. And because she looked at me like I was the most incredible guy in the entire world. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“I think so.”

“You’re because you were meant to be here. You’re my second chance. My new life. That all started with your mom AND you. Don’t you think that’s pretty awesome? In a way, you’re the reason that all your brothers and Addie are even worse. If your mom never had you, there’s a chance I never would have seen her again. And I wouldn’t have the life I have now. And it’s an amazing life. A life that started with you. So you ARE special. Very, very special. In a way everyone else isn’t. Am I making sense?”

She nods.

“You have no idea how much I love you. How every day I think about how lucky I am that you’re even here. And how I’m really only here because of you. That’s pretty surreal, yeah? Don’t cry…” he uses his thumbs to clear away the tears that glisten on her cheeks and the sides of her nose.  “...there’s no reason to cry, baby girl.”

“It made me sad to think that you didn’t love mommy when I was made.”

“Well, maybe my heart loved her but my brain didn’t realize it yet. Or it was scared to admit it. I’d be pretty stupid NOT to love her, right?”

“Right.”

“Don’t ever think there’s something wrong with you. Ever. Because you’re beautiful and you’re smart and you and your mom are the only reasons I’ve made it this far. So don’t ever doubt how much I love you, okay?”

“Okay.”

Tyler gathers her into a strong, comforting embrace and pulls  her on top of him; a  hand on the back of her head as she wraps both arms around his neck and nestles her face into his shoulder. Stroking her hair and then her back, until her sniffling finally subsides and her body stops trembling against him. “What do you want to do today?” he asks, coming his fingers through thick, messy hair.

“I don’t know. Something fun.  Something that won’t hurt your arm or your leg more. Mommy says we have to be careful ‘cause you’re trying to get better.”

“Your mommy is a pretty smart lady.”

“And she loves you. A lot. She gets sad when you get hurt. And she gets pissed off too. At the people who hurt you. I wouldn’t want to mess with her. She’s small, but she could really do damage.”

“She’s probably the toughest person I know.”

“Maybe we can go swimming,” Millie suggests. “And see the animals. It’s fun to watch when they get fed. Some of them we’re allowed to feed. The sloth is super cool. He likes me and he’s so cute and it feels weird when he crawls all over me. And there’s lots of snakes too, but mommy won’t take me to see them because she’s too scared. Maybe you can take me.”

“I’ll take you. And we’ll go swimming. You know what I want to do first though?”

“What?”

“Eat. I’m starving.”

“Me too. I’m so hungry, I could eat the ass out of a dead hippo.”

Tyler grins. “I thought it was a rhinoceros?”

“I changed it ‘cause I like hippos better.”  She raises her head to look at him, hands coming to rest on the sides of his face. “Your beard is scratchy.”

“You don’t like it?”

“No. I do. It’s how I know you. That’s how you’ve always looked. Even when I was really little.”

“Even when you were a baby. Even before then. It’s how I looked when I met your mom.”

“Mommy’s never seen you without it?”

“Nope. I’ve always had it. Never got rid of it because she likes it.”

“You’d look weird without it.”

He smirks. “You’re a little savage.”

“Not weird in a bad way. Weird as in different. You wouldn't look like daddy anymore. I want you to look like daddy. Not like some stranger. I don’t like that idea.”

“Well, just for you, I’ll keep it. Just trim it if it gets too messy.”

“It makes your face look nice.”

“Yeah?”

She nods. “You’re kinda cute, daddy.”

“Just kinda?”

“Well, lots of cute. I see the way girls look at you. I don’t like it though. I don’t want them looking at my dad like that. ‘Cause you’re with mommy and I don’t want you leaving mommy for some trifling hoe.”

He laughs. “Where do you learn that?”

“I heard it on TV. When Ovi was watching us last time. You’re not going to leave mommy for some trifling ass hoe, are you?”

“I’m never leaving your mommy for anyone. She’s stuck with me. She’d have to get rid of ME.”

“Mommy wouldn’t.  She loves you too much. Even when you make her mad or annoy her. And I’d really hurt you if you left mommy. Just so you know.”

“You would, would you?”

“Yep. I love you daddy, but that’s my mom. And no one hurts my mom. Not even you.”

“That’s never gonna happen,” he assures her. “I’d never hurt your mom. Ever.”

“Good,” Millie says, and settles her head on his shoulder. “I’d be super sad if you and mommy ever broke up. Who would I live with?”

“You worry way too much about things that are never going to happen. Mommy and I are in this together. We’re a team. Nothing’s going to change that. Unless SHE finds someone else.”

“Never gonna happen,”  Millie declares. “You guys are stuck with each other.”

“Yeah,” he grins, and drops a kiss on the top of her head. “We are.”

****

“Are you trying to give me more gray hair?” Esme inquires, and slaps him across the back the long forgotten and discarded sling.

It’s been both an enjoyable and tiring morning and early afternoon; an enormous -and fantastically prepared and presented- breakfast followed by hours in the pool and time spent with the animals.  Helping the kids feed the smaller and less dangerous ones and listening to the keeps share stories and tips on  caring for what the rest of the world considers exotic creatures. Allowing the kids to pet and hold the snakes the handlers brought out of their enclosure; smiling at their bright, wide eyes wonder as the reptiles slithered around their necks and across their shoulders and coiled themselves around their arms. Even Tanner stepped out of his comfort zone; scared and nervous at first but quickly and easily soothed by his father’s steadfast presence.

Now the kids sit on the grass in the shade of many trees that line the property. Eating lunch and listening intently as one of the many nannies attempt to give them Hindi lessons.

“Not intentionally, no. Why?”

“You should be wearing this.”  She drops the sling onto the concrete that surrounds the pool, then sits down beside him and places her feet in the water.

It’s their first real ‘alone’ moment since he’d rolled out of bed. They’d done the proverbial ‘kiss and make up’ after the early morning fight; taking advantage of all the kids sleeping and the obnoxiously big infinity tub in the ensuite bathroom. It had been intense yet gentle; long, slow kisses and patient, unhurried hands roaming each other’s bodies under the layers of thick, fragrant soap suds. Worshipping every inch of her; letting his attentive touches and slow, controlled movements  do all the talking  for him.  All the apologies and all the professions of love and those confessions of darkest worries and worst fears. How scared he is of losing her; of somehow screwing up and having her slip permanently out of his grasp.   The one person who’d dragged him out of the deepest, darkest recesses of hell and made him feel alive again. Who’s never looked at him with pity and never saw him as broken beyond repair.

“It’s been feeling pretty good,” he says, as he holds Addie securely under arms, repeatedly dunking her into the water. It’s a slow and careful progression, starting at her toes and then making it all the way up to the small of her back.  There isn’t even the slightest hint of fear or nervousness; trusting him wholly and completely even at that young of an age. And he can never quite get over how perfect she is. How beautiful with those freckles across the bridge of her nose and that abundance of dark hair and those enormous, dark eyes that never leave his face. And that smile; so pure and so genuine that it nearly takes his breath every time he sees it.

“How about I punch you in the dick and you tell me how THAT feels?” Esme retorts.

He smirks. “Are you in a bad mood? Something tells me you’re in a bad mood.”

“I am so nauseous,” she says with a grimace. “And I’m frustrated. Because of your stubborn ass. Are you not supposed to be wearing that all the time? Aren’t you supposed to keep it on until you go to bed? I’m pretty sure that is what the doctor said.”

“And I’m pretty sure I know my own body.”

“I’m not trying to be nag. I’m really not. I’m just trying to take care of you. But for some reason, you won’t let me.”

“I let you take care of me last night.  When I woke up all fucked up from that dream.”

“That’s different, and you know it. You’re here to recuperate. Well, that’s what you were originally here for anyway. How are you going to recuperate when you won’t do what the doctor says? That’s all I want; for you to get better.”

“I know.” He leans a shoulder into her, then takes his eyes off Addie momentarily as he pressures a kiss to his wife’s temple. “When I’m done here, I’ll put it back on. Okay?”

She nods, then manages a small smile. It fucking destroys him inside; that darkness and uncertainty -and fear-, in those normally sparkling, playful eyes and the absence of any shred of REAL happiness.  He knows the difference; when she genuinely content and when she’s doing nothing more than putting on a brave face for everyone around her. He’d seen a glimmer of it this morning. When he’d first woken up and their conversation had been lighthearted, their banter playful, and the kisses they shared tender and loving. Her eyes had been lighter then; glittering in the sunlight that streamed through the bedroom windows. But then it all gone to hell. His own brain both betraying and getting the better of him. And he’d gone ahead and ruined the best morning he’d had in a hell of a long time.

“I remember when you used to do that with Millie,” she recalls. “When we stayed at Mahajan’s. You would take her right in or you’d sit with her on the edge just like that. She used to love it too. And she’d look at you  that exact same way. Just idolizing you and adoring you and trusting you.”

“Remember when we used to take Millie to the beach? I think she was only two weeks when we first went. Even then she was fearless; not scared of the water one bit.”

“They’re a lot alike. Addie and Millie. I know babies don’t have much in the way of personality this early, but Millie was full of it right from the start. So is Addie. Not to mention they both have you completely wrapped around their little fingers.”

He grins. “I don’t know, babe. I think you achieved that first. You had me wrapped around yours long before either of them came along.”

“Only took you almost seven years to admit,” Esme laughs, then runs a hand down the back of his head and pecks his cheek; an arm curling around his waist and the side of her resting against his shoulder. “We’re okay, right?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?”

She shrugs. “I want us to be okay.”

“We are. But we’re also going through a pretty hard, shitty, scary time. We’re going to be irritated and we’re going to snap at each other. It’s inevitable. But that’s not on us. It’s what’s going on around us.”

“I worry that one day we’re going to fight and there will be no way of fixing things,” she admits. “No way of fixing US.”

“That’s not going to happen. I love you too much to EVER let that happen.  You really think you can get rid of THAT easy?”

“I don’t want to get rid of you at all,” she says.  “And I’m sorry. That I said the things I did. They were harsh and you didn’t deserve that.”

“You know what? I did deserve it. Because a lot of the time I forgot just how much I DID hurt you. And I’m the one that’s sorry; that I didn’t clean myself up and get my shit together and fight for us. And I wanted to; I wanted to fight. But I was weak and I was a coward and running away when things got tough was what I did. And I AM sorry; for hurting you the way I did. But I never stopped loving you. Or wanting you.”

Tears pool in her eyes. “I want to say it’s my hormones making me cry, but I think it’s actually you. And not bad crying, either. Just when you say things like that...I don’t know...when it comes from you...someone LIKE you...it hits in a way it wouldn’t anyone else. And I didn’t mean to hurt you; by saying the things I did.”

“I know, baby. You needed to say it and I needed to hear it. It’s okay.” He places a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Everything’s okay now. Now we CAN put it behind us. For good. Right?”

She nods.

“So stop, okay? Stop beating yourself up over shit. I do enough of that for the both of us, trust me.”

“I’m worried,” she admits.

“About what?”

“You. The kids. This baby.” One of her hands falls to her stomach.  “I’m worried and I’m scared. I don’t want anything happening. To you, to our family, to little bean. And I can just feel all the stress and all the fear and I’m worried it’s going to get worse and it’s going to happen again.  I can’t lose this one, too. I don’t know if I could go through that again. It’s already happened twice; once with you, once with Mark. What if there’s something wrong with my body? What if…?”

“You’re getting worked up over  nothing. We have five kids. And yeah; Addie was early and Tanner had his issues, but they both made it. They’re here. There’s nothing wrong with your body. What happened, happened. And that’s why I want you to stay calm. Because honestly? I don’t think I could go through that again either.”  He doesn't remember a time where something hurt THAT bad. A pain unlike anything -both mentally and physically- that he’d ever experienced before. Even with Austin it had been different; he’d at least gotten to spend six years with him. But losing a kid that you never even got the chance to meet? Who never even got to take a single breath? Nothing is harder to grasp than that,

“I know it was hard on you,” she says. “And I wish I could have been there for you like you were for me.”

“Esme, you HAVE been there for me. A lot of times, for a lot of different things. Who’s the one that stuck around on that bridge? Who stuck around at the hospital and stayed in Australia? Who gave up their entire life for a guy she barely knew?”

“I did it because I WANTED to know you. Because I wanted the chance to know you outside of those five days. And I did it because you deserved to live. Whether you thought so or not.”

“And now here we are,” he grins, and kisses her cheek. “Almost seven years and five kids later. We’ve come a long way and we a good fucking life. Even if it does seem shit right now. And we’re going to be okay and our kids are going to be okay and little bean is going to be okay. I promise. You trust me, right?”

“You know I do,:

“Then trust me about this. Everything is going to be okay. We’re going to get through this and we’re going to go on with our lives.”

It’s the most confident he’s been since arriving in Mumbai. And while he’s not sure if it’s actually genuine or it’s the comfortable yet totally functionally numbness brought on by a mix of pain meds and those for his depression and PTSD, but it feels pretty damn good  to say it.

He briefly places Addie against his shoulder, wrapping her in the towel draped and then laying her along his forearm. Her head nestled in the crook of his elbow and her tiny body wrapped in the soft,comfy fabric and only her face peeking out.  Grinning when all of his fingers wrap around one of his and she pulls his hand towards her mouth, suckling at one of his knuckles.

“What are you doing, little peanut?” He chuckles. “You can’t be THAT hungry. You just ate.”

“She’s a growing baby, daddy. Pretty soon she’ll fit in all those newborn clothes we bought her. But I think she’s doing that for comfort; she tried doing it to Kyle’s nose yesterday.”

“Speaking of Kyle,” Tyler glances over his shoulder to where his brother in law  and Nik -on a rare break- sit on the covered patio, chatting and laughing. “What’s going with those two?”

“I don’t know. I don’t even think I WANT to know.”  She helps him slip into the sling, but bites her tongue and resists the urge to say ‘I told you so’ when he grimaces at even the smallest of movements. “Kyle says they get along better now that they’re just friends. I don’t understand how that even works. How can you be friends with someone you used to see naked all the time? How do you stay friends with someone you’ve spent months of years fucking.”

“We’re friends.”

“That’s different. We’re married. So the friendship comes hand in hand. Would you be able to be my friend if we split up?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“Are we talking friends with benefits, or…?”

“Listen buddy, we break up? That’s it. I don’t care how good you are in bed or how talented you are with that mouth of yours; we co-parent and that’s it. No benefits for you. I don’t care how good looking you are or how pretty your eyes are or how big your muscles are. That’s it; you’re cut off. For good.”

Tyler grins. “I’ll believe it when I see it. Even during those six months you’d sometimes call me up and let me come over.:

“I had needs, okay? Needs I wanted YOU to be the one to take care of. I notice you didn’t say no. That you always showed up.”

“I was hoping you’d let me stay afterwards. Never did though.”

“I had to make you work for things,” Esme reasons. “And you did. Eventually. When you finally yanked your head out of your ass. I don’t know who said something to you or WHAT they said, but it worked.”

“Just some tough love. Things I need to hear. You don’t need to know who said them. And they didn’t want you to know. They asked me not to tell you.”

“Well whoever it was, I owe them a fruit basket.” She presses a kiss to his cheek. “Because that was definitely a turning point. Now look where we are. Two more kids, one on the way. None of that would have happened if it wasn’t for whoever it was. And Nik and Kyle? It’s definitely staying only friends. Alison asked him to move in with her.”

“As in Alison that lives right next door to us?”

Esme nods.

Tyler groans. “Fuck my life.”

“I’m sorry, honey. I hate to be the bearer of bad news. But…” she scratches at the back of his head, then combs her fingers through the longer strands of hair on the top of his head. “...at least there’s a whole football field and then some between our house and theirs. I’m so sorry you can never get rid of my family entirely. I love you, if that makes any better. I bet you’re wishing now you’d said no in Dhaka..”

He shakes his head. “I was going with it regardless.”

“Color me surprised,” she scoffs, and tousles his hair. “Anil’s popping by later. He called while you were still asleep. He said you left him a message about needing to talk. You’re going to tell him? About wanting to stay here?”

He nods. “Best place for me to be. I need to be with you  and the kids, especially now. I’ve got even more to lose.”

“You’ve got to keep your head in the game, though. If you obsess too much over me and the kids and the baby and keeping us all safe, it’s only going to fuck with you and you know it. You’ve got to keep your head on straight; we NEED you to keep it on straight.  We need you to keep it together. And we need Old Tyler. That’s who you need to be to get us through this. And I think you know that.”

He nods.

“You’ve got this. I know you do. And it makes me feel a hell of a lot better knowing you’ll be if something does happen. You’re the only one I trust to get shit done and get it done right.”

“You have a lot of faith in me, baby.”

“Yeah, I do. But it’s one hundred percent warranted. I know the things you can do; I’ve seen the things you can do. And you can doubt yourself all you want, but what happened the other night has no bearing on what you’re capable of. So stop letting it take up so much space in your head. And it’s a very beautiful head, by the way.”

He chuckles at that, Feeling the smile curves her lips when she presses a kiss to his temple.

****

“So where are we?” Tyler asks three hours later, as he and Anil sit on the covered back patio.

A late afternoon shower falls around them, bringing relief from the oppressive humidity and punishing sun. With the kids being entertained with the help of the indoor pool it’s quiet; nothing but the sound of pattering water drops and the light rustling of the trees as a soft breeze passes through them.  Despite the damp conditions, the armed guards remain on high alert; several patrolling the grounds and three up on the roof. Even with his extensive experience with both the military and the job, he finds it slightly unnerving; the constant presence and the open carry of heavy duty weapons in plain sight of his children.   And it’s extremely distressing that those measures are even needed in the first place.

“About half through the list. Not as far as I’d like to be by now. But it is what it is,” Anil shrugs, then takes a long sip from a glass of whiskey. Top shelf, Tyler assumes. The best of the best like nearly everything else in the man’s life; not sparing any expense when it comes to even the smallest luxuries and indulgences. He’d been offered a glass but had turned it down; not wanting to mix booze with the cocktail of medications he’d been taking. And still struggling with bouts of lightheadedness and moments of confusion.

“Looks like some bloke gave you a hard time,” Tyler comments, nodding towards the hand Anil has wrapped around the glass; knuckles swollen and covered in fresh cuts and bruises. There’s other injuries as well. A blackened right eyes and a contusion across the bridge of his nose and healing split lip. “Worked you over pretty good.”

“Number twelve,” Anil says with a smirk. “He was a lot tougher than he looked. Very fast. But not for very long. Not after I shot out both knees before the one to the middle of his forehead.”

“How are my guys doing? Koen and Rata? They don’t alright?”

“Very impressed with those two. Very skilled in weaponry.  Very tough. I must admit, I was skeptical at first; when you said they had experience outside of the military. But they’ve adjusted extremely well. The biggest one; he really likes to get his hands dirty. Literally.”

Tyler smirks. “Rata’s a little...unhinged.”

“He can do more damage with his hands than some men can do with weapons. You served with both, yes?”

Tyler mods. “Known ‘em both since I was eighteen and signed up fresh out of high school. Did three tours in Afghanistan with Koen, two in Iraq with Rata.”

“You’ve seen a lot of desert,” Anil remarks.

“I’ve seen a lot of blood. And a lot of death. Way too much of it, actually.”

“Including your own blood and your own near death. You came very close. On that bridge in Dhaka.”

“Way too close,” Tyler says, his hand unconsciously covering the scar on the left side of his neck. “And I came damn close the other night too.”

“Their plan was to take you. Keep you alive. For as long as it took for you to be punished to Mahajan’s liking.”

“I figured as much.  Number Twelve told you this?

“Among other things.”

“About me?”

Anil nods.

“They were going to kill my family, weren’t they. They were doing to track them down and kill them. And they were going to make me watch them do it.”

“There was a talk of that,” Anil confirms.

“And they were going to torture Esme and the kids. They were going shit to my wife and my daughters. To my little girls. One of them that’s only a baby. That’s what they were planning to do, wasn’t it.”

“I don’t know how far they were willing to go. How far they were willing to go to harm you.”

“I know how far they would have gone. I don’t need to be told. I’ve heard plenty of stories that ended that way. Guys who lost their entire families right in front of them. Who had to watch all kinds of sick and twisted shit done to them first. And Mahajan is the worst of the worst. Millie is six. Addie is three months. She’s a fucking baby..”  The rage settles in; ferocious and powerful. Hands forming tight fists and his jaw clenching. He feels nauseous; the thought of anyone getting his hands on his daughter and their mother like that.

“Do they know where I am?” Tyler asks. “Do they know I’m here?”

“Not that we know of. They know you’re out of commission; laying low somewhere. But they don’t know exactly where.”

“Do they know my family is here? Not just in Mumbai, but here? At your place? Do they know that?”

“We believe so.”

“When they can’t find me, they’re going to figure it out. They’ll know I’m here; that I came to be with my family. Mahajan would know that much about me. He knows what I care most about in this world.”

“We should move you,” Anil says. “Somewhere out of town. Until you get back on your feet and…”

“I’m staying here,” Tyler interjects. “With my wife and my kids. I’m not leaving them. They’re safer if I’m here. And they FEEL safer.”

“If Mahajan figures it out, he will come here. Every gun under his control will come here. Led right to your family. We..”

“So what if they come here? I’m here. Nik’s here. All your people here. What chance do they stand if they show up? We have a lot of our own firepower. And this is MY family. I’m not leaving them here while I go back out onto the street. My wife wants me to stay. She NEEDS me to stay. And that’s I’m doing. I’ve let her down too many times before. I’m not doing it again.”

Anil nods slowly, considering his words. “If we run into trouble, if we need you..”

“Just call me and I’ll be there. But I stay here with my wife and kids because they need me way more than you guys do. And look at me..” he nods at his shoulder, then his knee. “...I’m a fucking mess. I’m no use to you or anyone else. I’m not even seventy percent right now and I don't even know if I’ll ever get back to where I was before this. And it’s just messing with my head; those fucking drugs. I get dizzy, I get confused, I forget even the smallest shit.  I’m useless right now. Simple as that. I’d only slow you down.”

“It takes a big man...a strong man...to admit that.” Anil praises.

“I’m not feeling too strong right about now, mate. Feeling pretty fucking weak, actually. It’s been a while since I had to step back; injury wise. Couple years ago I busted my forearm in Brazil; put me out for nearly a month; would have been longer but I got tired of sitting around and cut the cast off myself. Won’t be anything like that this time. I’m pretty messed up.”

“Physically, or…”

“Physically, mentally. I don’t know which is worse. I just know I hate it; hate sitting around watching everything go down. I wanna be out there, you know? Getting my hands dirty. I don’t like sitting still for too long.”

“Is that why you got back into this life? After half a year? Tired of sitting still?”

“Pretty much. Feel like a huge dick for admitting that, though. I should have been happy, yeah? Getting to spend time with my wife and my kids. But it wasn’t enough; no matter how I much wanted it to be. I’m a pretty shitty husband, aren’t I.”

“You provide for your family. You fight for them. You stop at nothing to keep them safe. No my friend, you are not a shitty husband.”

“I always think about how my wife deserves so much better than this. So much better than me. Yet she’s stuck around through so much bullshit. I don’t know why she does it. Why she just doesn’t say ‘fuck it’ and walk away.”

“Is that what you want her to do? Just leave?”

“No. That’s the last thing I want. I don’t think I could do this without her. This life.  And honestly, I don’t want to do it without her.”   He sighs, then takes a swig from the bottle of water clutched tightly in his hand. “Any word on Nathan?”

“Still no sign of him. No one has been able to raise him. And if someone DOES have him, they haven’t reached out to us with demands.”

“Think he’s dead?”

“I don’t know  what to think, to be honest.”

“Yeah,” Tyler says, and leans back in his chair, good arm behind his head. “You and me both.”

“It’s very odd,” Anil comments. “That he would just disappear like that. Out of thin air,:

“If someone had him, they’d reach out to us,” Tyler reasons. “They’d want something for him. If Mahajan has him, we’d know by now. They wouldn’t hide that from us. They’d want us to know what they’re doing to him. Trust me.”

“You’ve seen this kind of thing before?”

“Tons of times, unfortunately. And they never end well. What I really don’t understand is how the fuck that guy got THAT close to me. I thought you had your ear to the ground. That you for watching out for shit like that. All these guys watching me and supposedly having my back  and THAT happens? Were all they fucking asleep?”

“We were told to stand down. That that’s what you wanted.”

“I never said to stand down. I said to stay out of my way. Not fuck off entirely. Who the hell told you I said to stand down?”

“Nathan. He said he’d have your back and that you said that’s all you needed. Him.”

“He told you that? Nathan said that?”

Anil nods.

Tyler gives a derisive snort and shakes his head; legs stretching out in front of him as he runs a palm over his face.

“What are you thinking?” Anil asks.

He sighs heavily. “I think I need to talk to Nik.”