#shes just assigned herself boss for absolutely no reason even though she has been there 2 months less than me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

itsclydebitches · 4 years ago

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Hello, everyone! Can you believe this is the third time I've started the recap for this chapter? Between a dying computer and a mass edit during my monthly state of, "Oh my god get rid of everything we can't let people know that we wRITE!" this project is cursed. This is the version though, I can feel it. Be positive!

Now, where were we? It's been some months (RIP) since I last posted, so I wouldn't be surprised if everyone's forgotten what's going on in this insane novel. A quick recap before the recap then: new teams have formed, no one is happy about it, Sun and Velvet went off to a shady club run by The Crown and — shock shock, surprise surprise — got themselves into a heap of trouble. That's the long and the short of it. We have to wait a while to find out what happens to them though because this chapter is focused on Coco.

We learn that Professor Rumpole has sent Coco and her new team — Team ROSC — out into the desert to take care of the grimm around the city's borders. To say that Coco is disappointed in this assignment is an understatement. We learn that they've been at this for a week straight and have gone without showering or a change of clothes that entire time (no one packed a bag?), so for a second I was hugely sympathetic. You know this vine?

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I feel this vine in my soul. Give me hot water and hot coco or give me death. Besides, work is work and dangerous, physical work without a break or basic comforts is incredibly taxing. Toss in the extreme heat of a desert and I'd be pissed at everything too, no matter how important my work was. That's human.

Yet instead of humanizing Coco like this, it turns out she doesn't care at all about the hardship involved. It's fighting grimm that she's annoyed by. She thinks that "Searching for the person or persons kidnapping innocent people for some unknown but dark purpose was way more useful than fighting Grimm far from the city" and I'm just like, Coco, honey...

Do you know what your career path is?

IT'S TO KILL GRIMM.

Okay, there's admittedly a justification here, but it's a stupid one. Coco goes on to say that "This area was called the Wastelands for a reason." She's snarky about it, saying that it wastes “her time, her talent, and her patience," but the real takeaway is that it's, you know, a wasteland. Deserted of grimm and of people. What's the point of defending an area that doesn't need defending? A huntress' job might normally be to fight grimm, but when those grimm aren't around and kidnappers are, that's a whole new set of priorities.

The problem with all this is that the Wastelands is definitely not deserted and it's definitely not as far from the city as Coco would like to imply. In just a few paragraphs an alarm is going to trip and Coco will find six grimm roaming in a pack. Then she finds a person. Then that person says she needs to get back to see someone in the city within half an hour. So there are grimm, there are people about, and this area is apparently close enough to the border that you can get back to the city proper, on foot, and then get wherever it is you’re going in a bustling metropolis... all within half an hour. By that logic these grimm aren't out in the boonies, they're right outside everyone's door.

Yet Coco isn't convinced, saying that "Post Beacon [killing grimm] had been for a noble cause, but this just felt like … busywork." I cannot possibly emphasize enough that this is the job she signed up for. Not to be a detective specializing in missing people, not a war hero always on the front lines of a battle, but one of many huntsmen who perform the daily, routine, very necessary task of protecting the people from grimm. With "protecting" covering both immediate threats and preparatory work that ensures more threats don't come about — like taking care of grimm outside before they become a larger threat. You know what would have happened if Beacon had a daily chore of students killing grimm within a few miles radius of the school? There would have been far less grimm charging a mass of unprotected students when negativity unexpectedly skyrocketed.

And, as always, I am aware that Rumpole is the likely villain here. From a writing perspective, this is very much presented as her getting Coco out of the way so that she can go about her nefarious deeds in peace... but that doesn't erase the fact that the task itself is a sound one. Rumpole's motivations don't matter here, only Coco's annoyance that she... has to do her job?

I mean yeah, everyone complains about their job to one extent or another, but can you imagine if you stumbled across a firefighter complaining about all the kitchen fires they've had to put out lately? "It's so boring! There are much better things I could be spending my time and talent on. I mean, that inferno that took out a city block last year? Putting that out was noble. But routine fires? House fires? Giving lectures on how to prevent fires in the future? Ugh, I can't believe the department expects me to do this grunt work." Meanwhile, you're sneaking off, hoping that this firefighter is never called to your house, nursing mild worries about how much they're romanticizing the recent tragedy that took so many lives...

Complaints about the job turn into complaints about the teams, which makes far more sense for Coco's character. Anyone's, really. Despite my insistence that it's a good thing they're learning to fight with people other than their three besties, that was absolutely a sudden and rather traumatizing change, just given how attached the teams already are. I'm not at all surprised that Coco is struggling to cope.

She says she misses her friends, obviously, but also "surprisingly, Coco missed being in charge."

...That's supposed to be surprising? Coco, you love being in charge! How is this in any way a revelation?

Apparently it is though, stemming from how bad Reese is as their leader. As with so many things in RWBY, I find myself disagreeing with a perspective that's presented as a fact: "She liked to lead by group vote, which wasn’t leading at all." Yes... it is? We could go down a rabbit hole of literal definitions — to lead is to direct, to direct is to regulate, to regulate is to direct again — but ultimately our understanding of a word does not adhere to the dictionary alone. It's a knowledge built on experience and I would hope that everyone's experience with the term "leader" includes that person considering multiple perspectives before making a decision. A leader doesn't impose their view on a group without due consideration of their preferences and needs — that's a dictator — a leader guides the group based on feedback and their personal knowledge. If that feedback and knowledge results in a standstill, or if their knowledge outweighs preferences, they are the deciding vote because the people have previously said, "We trust your decisions" through the act of making them leader in the first place.

Asking for a group vote isn't avoiding leadership, it's an act of leadership. Reese decided that these situations warranted a majority rule. She further decided that whatever they settled on was indeed an appropriate course of action. Leadership skills are required to assess a situation and determine whether it's appropriate to vote on in the first place. If I announce to a group that we're voting on whether we go to the movies or the museum, I've done the work to determine that both of these choices are of roughly equal value and roughly equal availability. I haven't hit on any snags like, "The only movies playing are mindless blockbusters and I want this to be an educational outing" or "The museum is too far away. We'll never make it to dinner on time." Figuring out that a group can vote is its own kind of work. This avenue is particularly useful when the group is of roughly equal standing. With a few exceptions (like Ruby and Jaune) huntsmen classmates are all the same age, underwent the same training, and have had the same combat experiences. This isn't a case of one elite huntsmen lending their knowledge to an otherwise green party, it's a school randomly pointing at a somewhat outgoing individual during orientation and saying, "You. You're leader material, I guess, even though you've done little differently than the person standing beside you." Someone has to lead and Vacuo's switcheroo proves that anyone can be the leader if they're just put in that position. Coco claims a group vote is just "passing the responsibility off to your team" and yes! You want to share the responsibility because you are a team. They are a group of four equals working together with one person to guide them, they are not a boss with three subordinates. Why wouldn't Reese utilize the skills and ideas of those teammates? When making a decision, why wouldn't she see if everyone believes it's a good idea to do Thing A as opposed to Thing B? Unless Reese is outright ignoring her own ideas, beliefs, or gut feelings to cater to the others — which there's no reference of — this is good leadership. She's assisting her team in making decisions as a whole, rather than arbitrarily imposing her view on three others of similar skill and experience.

Yet Coco acts like because Reese doesn't go, "We're doing Thing A! End of discussion!" it's not leadership. Which, frankly, says a lot about how the RWBY-verse sees leadership as a whole.

I realize I'm rambling a great deal, so let me quickly provide a different media example. I'm currently immersed in Star Trek: Voyager and in season two, episode 14 "Alliances," Captain Janeway is faced with a difficult choice: align herself with a violent and so far untrustworthy species, or risk traveling through this quadrant of space without any allies. At first she's entirely against the idea of an alliance, going so far as to say that this isn't a democracy. She's the captain, dammit, she makes the decisions! But her first officer begs her to reconsider. Then the crew express disappointment — even disgust — that she won't consider this alternative. Then her chief of security, being a Vulcan, provides a persuasively logical argument for why an alliance is worth the risk... Long story short, Janeway finds herself in the minority and changes her decision accordingly. She attempts to garner an alliance and the fact that she was right — the species wasn't trustworthy and the alliance fails — is entirely beside the point. She realized that the majority voice matters. As far as we know, Reese is already practicing what Janeway learned.

ANYWAY the point is none of it matters because these characterizations are a mess. Coco also throws out that Reese "dressed like she was a twelve-year-old hanging out at the mall" and supposedly acts like one too. We're not given any examples of what that behavior looks like and, sorry, but I'm not personally inclined to judge someone based on their fashion sense. It would be great if this story actually engaged with some of the flaws the characters demonstrated, rather than just throwing them out to exist in this unacknowledged void.

Not that Coco's fashion-focused personality is really that important. Truly, the best thing about all this is how contradictory Coco's own thoughts are. She also listens to her teammates... except when she doesn't. She know when to go with their ideas and when to dismiss them for her own... except when she gets it totally wrong. As with so much in RWBY, this doesn't feel like the author giving Coco deliberate flaws that the story will grapple with down the line, it just comes across as a nonsense philosophy about leadership we're not meant to examine too closely. Coco gets to make references to the fact that her own, supposedly superior leadership is filled with holes, but heaven forbid she engage with that.

She ends all this with the thought that no matter what she might decide, she trusted her team to "do what she demanded of them” and is now extending that courtesy to Reese. This I'm inclined to praise Coco for. No matter what she might be thinking, it doesn't appear as if she's tried to undermine Reese (well, not yet. More on that at the chapter’s end), and she doesn’t appear to be refusing to listen to that leadership, even if she doesn't like how it comes about. As we're about to see, Coco has her team's best interests at heart, no matter the challenges they're facing.

Her thoughts turn back to her old team and we get... this.

Velvet was with a team that didn’t recognize her awesome capabilities. Fox was withdrawing, having lost his family for the second time. Yatsuhashi was going mad with worry about Velvet and his teammates, knowing that he couldn’t be there to protect them, and worrying he would accidentally hurt someone on his new team.

This is so unnecessarily dramatic. First, how does Coco even know any of this? Because it's been heavily implied that the old teams are barely in contact with one another. See: Velvet refusing to loop anyone in about the club and Coco stuck in the desert for a week. Second, why aren't they in contact, at least those who aren't on away missions? The entire group is acting as if changing teams means they're no longer allowed to be friends — family, as Coco puts it — when the relationship between Team RWBY and Team JNPR creates the opposite expectation right at the start of the series. Clearly, people from different teams can be close. Yatsu's worry that he might stumble using his semblance with new people is the only conflict that holds up here. Everything else has fairly straightforward solutions. Velvet needs to prove herself to new people. Yatsu needs to text Velvet if he's that worried about her. And Fox "having lost his family for a second time" is a pretty ridiculous exaggeration. You're attending the same school! Your family is still living down the hall if Vacuo has dorms like Beacon! In what world are these students unable to interact largely as they did before? They're acting as if the school has outright barred them from hanging out, rather than doing what will no doubt occur the moment they graduate: force them to work with different people. Just catch up with Fox over dinner!

Honestly, this chapter is pretty short, I'm just continually bewildered by this story.

To get back to the actual plot, something trips a sensor the group has set up and Coco responds to the situation in what I think is both a smart and empathetic manner. Previous experience has taught her that it's likely just a lizard, so she doesn't want to wake up her team for no reason. Disagreements aside, she cares enough to let them rest — "They’d probably appreciate the extra sleep." However, if it's a "rare case of something she couldn’t handle alone" she'd immediately call for help. Great plan! It's not often in this novel that I feel like I enjoy the characters, but this little moment actually had me liking Coco. Which, yes, I realize is a complicated claim. Characters should test the reader to a certain degree, mirroring all the personalities we see in real life, including biased, mean, or contradictory people. It's often a good thing to write a character that your reader is frustrated with. That can be the point! The problem with Myers' writing is that it isn't the point. Coco, as the former leader of our heroes in this tale, should be someone we enjoy spending time with and her flaws should be the basis for growth, or an acknowledgement that she is an imperfect, but well-rounded person. As it stands, flaws in this novel just sort of... exist? They bop around in the RWBY universe with almost no acknowledgement from the narrative or other characters, leaving the reader with little to nothing to take away from the text. Is Coco correct in her judgement? Is this a bias she needs to work on? Is she putting on a facade and her natural instinct to care for her team is the real Coco hidden underneath? Who knows! She’s just frustrating to read about most of the time and nothing comes of that.

Regardless, she heads out into the desert, using the night vision glasses Velvet made her.

Now see, this would have been the perfect thing to introduce before Velvet was fixing relay towers after the expert was injured. Remember how I said the novel didn't do enough to establish Velvet's own expertise? Not that a pair of goggles is really comparable to fixing a communications issue, but it still would have gone some way towards convincing me that Velvet is this super impressive tech gal, capable of handling any and all situations that might come her way.

But no, we get this impressive display of skill after Velvet's knowledge was needed in a pinch.

The glasses help Coco navigate the terrain, allowing her to both see in the dark and zoom in on things in the distance. This allows her to spot the six jackalopes that tripped the sensor, as well as the woman currently fighting them: Carmine, a villain from After the Fall that I know nothing about. Ah well. Note though what I said at the start, that Coco's dismissal of this assignment is based entirely in its supposed uselessness. Yet now here we have a pack of dangerous grimm and an enemy to content with.

Also, this is where Coco moves from kindly teammate to overconfident fool. She said she'd call for backup if she needed it... and she clearly needs it! From what I can gather, all of Team CFVY lost to Carmine last time they met up. But now she wants to risk fighting Carmine alone? Go get the others!

She doesn't, of course. Carmine doesn't notice Coco at first. She's talking about how she has to get back into the city. "He’s going to kill me if I’m not back to the Mirage in thirty."

As said, this also implies that Coco isn't nearly as far out as she initially suggested. If Carmine can feasibly finish this fight, cross the desert, navigate who knows how much of the city, and meet up with the mysterious "he" all in under half an hour, then Coco is patrolling pretty much right at the walls. AKA, the area that absolutely needs to be grimm free.

Luckily for those of us who are reading the books out of order, Myers gives a quick recap of Carmine's significance. Last book she had kidnapped Gus and "held off the combined might of Team CFVY in the desert” (oh hey, I was right), presumably escaping afterwards. Now here she is again, likely up to some new, nefarious deed.

Our of curiosity, I googled to see what she looks like and...

WHAT IS THAT OUTFIT?

Coco watches as she works to keep on top of the six grimm, debating whether she should help or walk away, but when Carmine is taken unawares, Coco acts without thinking, throwing herself into the fray.

Sometimes decisions were like that—your body already knew what to do while your brain was still processing the situation. Only in this case, Coco’s body wasn’t necessarily the clearest judge of character. Her brain would have said that Carmine didn’t deserve her help.

Now see, this is a scene I can get behind. The entire RWBY-verse is based around a type of superheroism: people with unnatural abilities, fantasy weapons, and extensive training devote themselves to protecting the people from various threats. Yet too often RWBY fails to convince me that these people are actually heroic, taking the standard flaws of a character and unknowingly exacerbating them to the point where I think, "Is this meant to be a commentary on the anti-hero? Or a critical look at these fantasy formulas? Because we've got the elements of that here, but no indication that the authors realize they're writing something other than that standard story." But this? This works for me. Coco, as a huntress, is so conditioned to help others that her body responds instinctively to someone being in danger, regardless of who that someone is. She outright admits that if she'd had the chance to think about it she would have decided against helping Carmine. The fact that she recognizes this and move anyway says a lot of good about her. Well done, Coco!

We see later that Carmine probably didn't need the help, but between the two of them the grimm really don't stand a chance. What's interesting though is how chummy the two are while defending themselves. Coco comments on Carmine's tendency to talk to grimm (like she does) and Carmine freely offers information about her movements, the fact that she lost her other sword, and that her partner, Bertilak, needs to "recharge a little" before getting back in the game. Carmine asks Coco if she'd like to team up with her instead (she does not) and the two have a number of flirty exchanges to top things off:

“I’ve been dreaming of a rematch with you,” Coco said.

“You’ve been dreaming about me? I’m flattered.” Carmine winked.

***

“Hot date with the Crown?” Coco asked.

“Don’t be jealous, darling.”

I bring all this up not as a criticism of the buddy-enemy dynamic (it's a favorite of mine), but simply because of something that happens next. Before we get to that though, I admit that I am on the fence about the flirting. Given that I haven't read After the Fall (assuming this characterization exists there), I know that Coco is a lesbian mostly via RWBY cultural osmosis, rather than through the text. This is one of the few (the only?) times that I've gotten a hint at her sexuality, yet it's associated with predatory behavior. Carmine, her enemy, is the one who turns an angry dream into a flattering one, the hot date with the bad guy into something to be jealous of. I'm honestly struggling to remember what, if anything, Coco has had to say about women in this book — this is what comes of such slow recapping and I acknowledge that this is entirely my fault — but I'm nevertheless discomforted by knowing Coco's canonical status, knowing RWBY's struggles with queer rep, and then reading a scene where the most overt representation thus far is the bad guy twisting Coco's words into something sexual.

I'm no purist. Give me a good enemies-to-lovers fic any day of the week, but that doesn't mean that kind of dynamic is the best to pull from in a franchise already facing heavy criticism for its queer rep.

Especially since the moment the grimm are gone Carmine turns her sai on Coco.

This is the "something that happens next" that I referenced above. It's weird to have them attacking one another after a whole scene of pretty genuine companionship. Coco doesn't help Carmine as a consequence of defending herself, she willingly gets involved. They tease one another. Carmine appears to answer her questions honestly. There's both implied and overt references to how well they work as a team. Then, suddenly, Carmine is outright trying to kill Coco, not just with her sai but by burying her alive. It's not the sort of banter that Ruby and Roman used to engage in, trading fake compliments and, in Roman's case before his death, legitimate feelings while attacking one another. Nor is Coco prepared for an attack the moment the grimm are gone, and she's not surprised by it. It’s just this sudden change that feels rather jarring.

Though it's far from the first time BTD has failed to convey the emotion of a scene. Here's another example rnow. As said, Carmine is attempting to bury Coco alive by moving the sand with her semblance. That's horrifying enough on its own, but remember that Coco is claustrophobic. Yet none of that panic shines through here. She comes across as indifferent throughout the attack, thinking back to summers when her brother tried to bury her while she sunbathed, amazed that she could ever consider this fun. You know who Coco sounds like in this scene?

At no point during this attack did I get the sense that Coco believes she’s in serious danger, let alone that she's struggling against a long-term phobia. The only time I even remembered that claustrophobia is meant to be a challenge for her is when she throws out the oh-so casual line, "One of her worst nightmares was being buried alive." Oh really? Because it doesn't seem like it! Coco is calm enough to remember that she used to be able to hold her breath for exactly three minutes and forty-two seconds. That doesn't feel like a character fighting against her worst nightmare.

So this scene isn't exactly compelling. Which is too bad because, as said, Coco as some other nice moments in this chapter.

However, during all this we do learn a little more about Carmine. Prior to getting trapped in the sand, Coco comments on how shockingly strong she is. "Carmine should have been at least a little bit worn down from fighting Grimm," but she's not, "She seemed nearly unstoppable now." Coco hits her full in the face, but she doesn't seem fazed. Earlier in the chapter there was that comment about how she previously took on Team CFVY alone and at the end of the battle Coco observes that Carmine "still seemed as fresh as she had at the beginning of the fight. How was she even doing that?" My basic reading comprehension skills tell me that this is setup for something, likely some change enacted by the Crown. Surely the text wouldn't put so much emphasis on Carmine's strength — have Coco questioning it to this extent, framing it as unnatural — unless we were going to get an answer, right?

But this is RWBY, so I'm not inclined to count my chickens before they hatch.

The rest of Coco's team arrives and it's then that she decides to pull the super dangerous stunt to free herself. Yeah, yeah, I get that she's suffocating and needs to do something now, can't wait to be dug out I suppose, but the timing is pretty ridiculous. The cavalry has arrived, yay! Time to blow myself up.

Seriously. She blows herself up. Using her own semblance, Coco focuses on one of her gravity dust bullets and detonates it, causing all the others in her arsenal to detonate too. It gets her out of the hole and "knocked her Aura down to a dangerously low level."

So... let’s see. Coco can literally detonate a bunch of explosives on her person, after suffocating under stand, after fighting Carmine, after fighting grimm, after a week long mission, and her aura doesn't break... but Yang's does from a single Neo slash?

Okay, RWBY.

Reese and Olive try to attack Carmine together, but end up eliminating one another's attacks. I like that a team actually has some realistic difficulties for once. Coco, however, is internally an asshole, calling them "idiots" and saying that they need to learn to coordinate their attacks. Thing is, she apparently hasn't done anything over the last week to help with that. She's been too busy complaining about Reese's clothes.

Carmine runs off as more grimm show up, drawn by Coco's non-existent panic. To her credit she does thank the others for saving her... but then immediately tries to downplay that. “It wasn’t a fair fight,” Coco spat when Reese (correctly) points out that she's the one who was ambushed. She also starts giving orders and when Reese (again, correctly!) goes to point out that she's the leader, Coco talks over her, saying they can't waste any more time out here because she has reason to believe that Shade has been compromised. She needs them only because she's out of bullets and low on aura, but they definitely need her because "let’s face it, I’m the best strategist around for miles."

Coco's a strategist?

And why does she sound like a villain trying to convince the heroes to work with her? She’s already part of the team!

Putting all that aside for the moment, we're back to this prideful characterization. I liked the well-rounded Coco from a few pages ago who balanced caring for her team with the likelihood of needing backup. Now she's flinching from the idea that she'd ever need help (hello, Sun characterization too) and snatching Reese's role the moment she's given the chance. So much for respecting her position. If the book wants me to believe that Reese is unfit to be leader and this is a golden opportunity for Coco to right a wrong... how about we actually show Reese being a bad leader?

Regardless, yay working together? The chapter ends with them presumably taking out the grimm before heading back to Shade, along with an important revelation. Prior to leaving, Carmine asked Coco why Yatsuhashi and Fox weren't rushing to her aid. It's only now that Coco realizes she didn't mention Velvet. Why? Perhaps because Carmine already knows where Velvet is, which obviously doesn't imply anything good.

And that's the end of Chapter Ten! Can you tell I never know how to finish these recaps? Describing cliffhangers doesn't have quite the same punch as, you know, actual cliffhangers. You all just have to suffer through my mediocre endings with me.

But would you look at that! Turns out the third attempt at writing this was the charm! :D

See you for Chapter Eleven! 💜

#rwby #BTD #Before the Dawn #BTD Recaps #mymetas

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anotheronechicagobog · 3 years ago

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Rangers, Lead The Way - Chapter 3 - Kenny with Maggie

written by @anotheronechicagobog

warnings: swearing, nudity, profanity, mention of school shooting, guns, weapons, I’m pro gun control (even though I’m Canadian) and this kinda reflects that, mention of PTSD, child neglect, also I fucking hate nazis

When someone called before seven in the morning it was work, a death notification, or one of his fellow trio of lovestruck fools. So when the annoying ringtone Hana installed as a prank and he couldn’t figure out how to remove started blasting on his nightstand at 2:17 in the morning, he was more annoyed than apprehensive. “Crosby.”

“Hey man, sorry to call you so late, but it’s about Maggie.”

“What’s going on?”

“One of her first arrests as an FBI agent just broke out of prison, and she’s been temporarily assigned to the unit being tasked with finding him. Yours. I expect you’ll be getting a call in the next five minutes or so. Maggie can take care of herself, I know that, but...”

“It’s hard when you’re not there to watch her back. Don’t worry, I’ve got her.”

“Thank you. So much. I appreciate this, so, so much.”

“Hey, a couple of months ago I was you. I feel you man, don’t worry. She’ll be fine. Listen, I’d love to keep talking but I’ve got another call coming in and it looks like that work call you were warning about. Talk to you later.”

“See you on the flip side, man.”

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Jess stood in front of everyone with that look on his face that vaguely reminded Kenny of his stern ex-navy fourth-grade teacher. “Everyone, this is special agent Maggie Bell, you may remember her from when we worked with her unit on a couple of cases, but this time it’s just her joining us. Is there anything you’d like to add, Bell?”

“I’m excited to work with you all, but please, call me Maggie.”

“Alright, let’s get to work, then. Maggie, Jason Anderson was one of your first arrests with the bureau, can you brief us on that case and highlight any details you think may be pertinent?”

“Definitely. Well for starters, Anderson is a cheating scumbag and it only gets worse from there.” Maggie’s bluntness broke through the formality that was stifling the bus, smirks and chuckles abound, and it seemed that only he didn’t have the sense to at least try and hid his amusement. An understanding but disapproving look had Kenny composing himself to speak up. “Well then, let’s jump down this rabbit hole.”

Maggie was sitting next to Hana, giving details about the fugitive they were currently after. He was one of Maggie’s first arrests as an FBI agent, so the bureau thought it would be beneficial to have her work with the team. So here she was, dressed in jeans and a sweater as opposed to her usual suits, combining her razor-sharp intelligence with Hana’s. They’d commandeered the top floor of a police station in Boston and were relying on Maggie and Hana’s wit to find out where he was. Jason Anderson, 42, was an illegal weapons dealer. He’d previously been put in prison for distribution and possession of prohibited firearms, and for giving an AK-47 to a school shooter. He was being transferred to a higher security prison because it came to light that he was continuing his business from behind bars, but the security team had been too small and unprepared for the escape plan pulled off by a team of eight. Those eight men were their biggest clue oddly enough, as they’d been dropping like flies since the escape. Michael Howard, 40, was Anderson’s ex-brother-in-law. And the connection between all the, now dead, prison breakers. Unfortunately, Howard’s sister, and Anderson’s ex-wife, had cut contact with both of them along with the rest of their families after Howard introduced Anderson to his mistress and encouraged an affair that created two children. The mistress, Bethany Karnstein, had gone AWOL hours ago when she left her job in the middle of her shift and didn’t pick her kids up from school.

The kids were safe with Anderson’s parents, but they couldn’t answer their questions when they asked where their mother was. The kids did identify Michael Howard as one of their mom’s friends though, he’d come to watch them while their mother was in the hospital about six months prior. They didn’t look shocked that FBI agents were asking about their parents, but they still didn’t know anything.

At the moment, they were splitting up. Jess and Barnes were headed to follow up with Bethany’s clueless boss, he and Clinton were about to go follow up on a possible sighting, and Hana and Maggie were staying on the bus. Thankfully, since Kenny was stressed out enough at the prospect of having to watch out for Maggie on top of worrying about Hana, them being assigned together eased his mind.

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It was around midnight when he and Clinton were finally able to rendezvous with the rest of the team. There was no sighting, Bethany had one of her affair partners call in a false tip, and when he and Clinton had quickly sussed that out it lead to a shootout and car chase. Jason, the dumbass stupid enough to commit six different felonies for a woman who has two kids with a violent arms dealer, was lying in a heavily guarded ICU bed. They’d managed to get his cell phone but he was beyond unconscious when they’d finally managed to get him to stop shooting at them. “Hey Hana, I brought you something.”

“Jason’s cell?”

“That too, but I was actually talking about this.” He held out a large coffee that she desperately needed if the way her eyes lit up was any indication. “Thank you.” Hana let out an over-dramatic groan as she downed the first sip. “Hey Crosby, thanks for my coffee too.” He looked at Maggie sheepishly, realizing that he’d only gotten two, one for himself and the other for Hana. “I was the one who drove to and then parked in front of the coffee shop while he went and got those, how do you think I feel?” Clinton’s playful jab caused a round of giggles but the knowing look from the older man made Crosby a little nervous. He was sure his feelings towards Hana weren’t super well-hidden, but he really didn’t need anyone on the team tipping Hana off. “Anyway, here’s Jason’s cell. Do you think you can crack it?”

“Normally with this many characters I’d say no... But, his password is seven characters long and his lock screen is Bethany, so... There we go, unlocked.”

“... That was a really poor choice of password.”

“And girlfriend.”

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

After working for fourteen hours straight they were all spent and headed to the hotel that the FBI had secured rooms at for them. Jess, Barnes and Clinton were all in one car that was headed straight to the hotel to get everyone checked in. Kenny, Hana, and Maggie were in the other car that was making a detour on the way to pick up Thai food. Hana and Maggie were chatting amongst themselves, but Kenny was still kicking himself for the slip-up he’d made while placing the order over the phone.

“Hi, can I place an order for pickup? Great. The name’s Kenny and the phone number is 123-456-7890. Okay, I’ll get two orders of shrimp rolls, one vegetable pad Thai, one pork Mee Khob, one chicken pad Keeng, and two orders of chicken Kao pad puk, hold on one second- Maggie you want green curry, right?”

“... Yeah, how did you know?” I’ve heard your partner talk about you almost non-stop since he met you because he’s head over heels in love with you, but I can’t say that, can? Especially because you, Hana, and Hailey don’t know that OA, Jya, and I know each other... For some reason, so sorry Maggie, Hana but I’m going to have to lie my ass off here. “Uh, sorry, I thought I heard you mention it earlier, plus you look like a green curry kind of person.”

“Ha, alright, yes I’d like some, thanks.”

“- Sorry about keeping you on hold, I’ll add one green curry to that order. Do you want me to pay over the phone or is it okay if I pay when I get there?”

“Kenny!”

“Sorry, what’s up?”

“Our exit is coming up in... 150 metres, you need to turn right.”

“Shit, thanks, Hana.”

“Are you okay? You seemed like you were in your own world there.”

“I’m fine, I was just thinking. Where do I go next?”

“Go straight for another 700 metres, it’ll be on the right.”

“Got it.”

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

“Alright everyone, the food’s here!” They’d all decided to gather in one of the meeting rooms the hotel had to the left of the lobby, Kenny had admittedly bellowed a little loud, but it brought all of his straggling coworkers into the room from their various spots in and around the lobby.

“Finally, what took you guys so long?” He knew that Jess was just hangry, and frustrated that they hadn’t caught the fugitive yet, so he let the snappy comment slide.

“Crosby almost missed the turn.”

“You let Crosby drive? Rookie mistake” He gave Hana a teasing look of betrayal before turning to Clinton. “I’ll have you know I am an excellent driver.”

“You’ve driven into a lake.”

“That was one time three years ago! And we were in a high-speed chase with a guy on a BMX bike who made a sharp turn near a kid’s birthday party, I didn’t exactly have many options.” He sounded more upset than he actually was. Moments like these were nice, where they got to hang around each other and just be friends, and Maggie was fitting in wonderfully with everyone but especially Hana, who sat in between him and Maggie as she started telling a story about OA with her face absolutely glowing.

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

Jason’s cell proved to be far more useful than he was. Bethany had been texting him from a rural address that turned out to be a cottage rental that was supposed to be vacant. The owners had a basic security system that had alerted them that someone was in their cottage, when the local LEOs investigated they immediately recognized the suspect but were able to play it off as having gotten a noise complaint, before going back to their vehicle and calling the FBI, while hiding their vehicle so that they could keep watch over the cottage. There was always a tense atmosphere when people were getting greedy for a raid, Kenny supposed the fresh air and appealing scent of pine trees eases tensions slightly, but not by much. Everyone knew that the worst could happen. That their loved ones could get an overly formal call at an unholy hour, telling them that the worst would happen. Everyone always did their best to try and prevent that, but there was only so much that they could keep out of fate’s unforgiving hands. His heartstrings pulled slightly as he flicked his eyes over to Hana. She was his special someone, even if she didn’t know it, and for a brief moment, he wondered what it would be like for her if he- No. Nope. You can’t think like that, especially not before a raid, and especially not about a woman who was only supposed to be your friend. The final preparations were complete and they were getting in position to breach. Hana still hadn’t been cleared for the field yet, so in the back of his mind, he was appreciative that there was one less person to worry about, with her wirelessly monitoring their body cams and coms. Although that was kind of moot point honestly, because Maggie was with them, in fact, Maggie had taken Hana’s position behind him. “You ready Maggie?” She put her hand on the back of his vest as the SWAT leader started counting down. “Always.”

The door was busted down and all the FBI and SWAT agents funnelled into the house through the three entrances. The sliding glass back door was where Jess was entering, the side door was for Clinton and Barnes, and He and Maggie were going through the front door. The front door went straight into the family room to the right, the eat-in kitchen was on the left, and directly across from the sliding glass door. Flashbangs went off as everyone started shouting, announcing themselves. There were screams and cries of panic, something not unusual in their line of work, what was also not unusual was finding Bethany naked on her knees with Michael Howard standing in front of her dressed in the same manner. Michael’s eyes went wide, and his thought process played out like an open book.

Shit. Feds.

Get gun.

... Gun is not in my holster because I’m not wearing clothes.

Run.

... Can’t run cause Bethany is clinging to my legs.

Kenny had to give the guy props for trying to tackle him linebacker style naked as the day he was born as he stood firm and checked him, sending him flying onto the ground. “Turn onto your stomach, now!”

He writhed around, trying to resist arrest, shouting “SUCK MY DICK YOU PIGS!” And trying to thrust his bare nether regions at everyone, Kenny in particular. “Howard Michael, you are under arrest, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Do you acknowledge that your rights have been read to you?”

“FUCK YOU!”

“I’m gonna take that as a yes.” One of the SWAT officers approached them with an itchy-looking wool blanket and took their suspect into custody. Maggie and Kenny shared a look before making their way to the two bedrooms that were to the left of the kitchen, they hadn’t been cleared yet and now they were trying to move fast to make sure that no other accomplices got away. Kenny took the right door, Maggie, to the left. “FBI! Freeze!” Kenny was met with the disturbing sight of a dead body on the bed. His throat and wrists had been slit and he was surrounded by lumped together blood-soaked sheets. He immediately recognized the dead body as the last remaining accomplice in the breakout. “Hey, Crosby? I need your help in here.”

“What’s up Maggie?” When he entered her room he stopped in his tracks. There wasn’t a bed, instead, there were two cribs for two babies, both of whom were in an equally freaked-out Maggie’s arms. “Here, let me help you.” Kenny helped lighten her load by taking a baby in his arms. “Hi sweetheart, what’s your name?”

“Kenny, these babies can’t be older than six months, you know she can’t respond to you, right?”

“I know, but they’re so little and scared, I want to at least try to comfort them.” The little girl hard curled up into his chest and nestled her face into his neck. “It looks like you’re doing a great job to me.”

“Who’s kids even are these?”

“I’m really trying not to think about it.”

“I’m praying to every deity there is that they’re not Bethany and Howard’s kids.”

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

There had to be thousands of deities, gods, godlings, divine beings, and not one of them could come through for those poor kids? The six-month-old twins Baxter and Hazel were the children of Bethany Karnstein and Michael Howard, who had murdered a man in the room next to their children’s room. The social services department where they were was basically non-existent, so while they waited for a social worker to drive from four and a half hours away they were watching the babies at the local police station while Jess and Clinton were questioning Michael. Baxter was much more social, jumping between the FBI agents, SWAT, and local LEOs, but he was now babbling quite happily on Maggie’s lap, whereas Hazel had immediately taken to Hana and refused to be held by anyone but her and Kenny. He looked at her fondly, Hana was holding the baby close to her chest and humming the tune to a melodic song he couldn’t remember the name of. Hazel looked up at Hana with wide, enchanted, trusting eyes, and all Kenny could do was feel his heart melt. A stray thought placed itself at the forefront of his mind and before he could stop it, he was picturing Hana as a mom, and as captivating as that thought was Kenny had to shake his head to stop it from going too far, they were just friends, it wasn’t Hana’s fault that he’s in love with her. I need to look somewhere else, anywhere else.

His eye-line shifted to Maggie and watching as she bounced an absolutely delighted Baxter on her lap. He knew that OA wanted a family, wanted a wife and a couple of kids, and looking at the tender way Maggie was holding and entertaining Baxter, he could see her being a mom too. Man, if OA saw this he’d have a heart attack, it’s his dream come true.

Kenny saw Hana shift positions out of his peripheral vision and turned to look at her and was immediately concerned. She had a look of discomfort on her face. “Hana? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Her tone was tense and Hazel immediately picked up on it and made a scared noise. “Are your arms tired? Do you want me to take her?”

“No. We’re fine. Maybe you should hold Baxter instead.” She snapped and finally looked him in the eyes, she was clearly angry and upset, but she seemed betrayed as well. Kenny leaned back into his chair his shoulders sinking in tandem. He was silently thankful that since everyone was milling about and talking it didn’t seem that anyone heard the exchange, though Maggie did look at him with a raised eyebrow. He shrugged his shoulders in response, completely bewildered. Maggie shook her head sharply, rolled her eyes, and scoffed. ‘Men.’ She mouthed. Kenny was completely clueless, had either of them noticed him watching them at they were offended at that? He watches Hana work away on her computer all the time and it’s never been an issue, but then again that was always subject to change. His inner ramblings were cut off when Jess and Clinton came back from the interrogation room. “Michael didn’t talk much, but Hana decrypted his cell and he has incoming and outgoing calls to a recluse retiree Evan DeLuca who lives forty minutes from here. Crosby, Bell go check it out, Clinton and I are going to take a break from interrogating Michael for an hour or so, Gibson and Barnes, you two can interrogate Karnstein, see how much she knows and just how involved is she in all of this. We can watch the babies while you’re in there...”

“Admit it, boss, you want a break just cause you two want to hold the babies.”

“Get moving Crosby, Barnes is already out the door.”

“You got it.”

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

They were twenty minutes into the tense car ride when Maggie finally spoke up. “Just so you know, you’re an idiot.” Flabbergasted Kenny let his mouth fall open and close a couple of times before tightening his grip on the steering wheel only to release it after taking a breath. “You’re probably right, but can you please tell me why I’m an idiot? What did I do wrong?”

“Can’t tell you that.”

“Why not? You were the one who brought it up.”

“Just... Focus more on Hana, okay?”

“Are you sure? I mean, I thought about it, and maybe that’s the issue?”

“Trust me, it’s not. Just focus on her, got it?”

“Okay... I’m confused as hell, but okay.”

“Isn’t that your usual state of mind?” He didn’t have to look over to see the teasing grin, he could feel it. “Woah, low blow, Maggie, low blow.”

“If you want to hear about a low blow, you should hear about how OA and I had to chase a clown fairy princess twelve blocks at two in the morning.”

“Please, go on.”

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

Well. That went terribly wrong. As much as Kenny could appreciate the peace and aesthetic of small towns and cottage areas, he hated working in them because there was never any backup! Forty minutes may not seem like a lot of time, but when you’re in a firefight against a man who has access to a seemly endless supply of weapons of war, that was an eternity. He’d literally fired a bazooka at them, how in the fuck did he get a bazooka?! So, the good news about this situation? They’d found Jason Anderson. Bad news? They’d found Jason Anderson with an arsenal large enough and powerful enough to take down a small army. They’d managed to take cover, but Anderson clearly had night-vision goggles because, despite the fact that it was past eleven and pitch black, he always knew where they were. Oh, and Evan DeLuca was probably a dead retiree, not a recluse. That’s just great, another body to add to Anderson’s growing total. Now, all that he and Maggie had to do was not become part of that number. If only it were that easy. They’d managed to get around the side of the house where there were only two medium-sized windows on side of the house facing them instead of a large doorway like at the front and, presumably, the back.

When Kenny got Jess on the phone it was nothing but panicked observations, and the notification that they’d found Anderson, as he and Maggie ran for cover. His phone wasn’t even near his face when he made the call, so he’s not quite sure what all made it through, only that they were still thirty minutes away from the address.

“We need a plan.”

“He can see our movements so we’re going to have to be sneaky about it.”

“I’ll fire on him, cause a diversion, do you think you can try to sneak around back?”

“Are you crazy?! We didn’t have time to grab our vests, that’s suicide. Besides, how many rounds do you even have left?”

“I’ve got a mag and a half.”

“Really? I thought you fired a bunch of shots at him earlier.”

“I did, but I’ve been carrying extra ammo for this case, I figured I’d need it at some point considering we’re going up against a weapons dealer.”

“Smart-” She was cut off by another several hundred rounds being fired at the, thankfully incredibly thick, tree they were hiding behind. “We don’t have much of a choice Maggie. Head around back, I’ll try to distract him and not get shot.” He knew she’d argue with him, so he didn’t give her the chance to. He ran out from behind the tree and fired through the only window of the two that was open. There wasn’t any light on in the house, so Kenny really wasn’t sure what he was aiming for. After the sixth shot he heard “fuck! Fucking fuck!” And felt a wave of relief; he’d hit Anderson. Hopefully enough to keep him subdued. He ran around to the front of the house only to be met with the sight of Anderson pulling the pin out of a grenade. He ran back out faster than he entered and hugged the outside of the entrance just outside of the doorframe. “GRENADE!” The explosion went off where he’d been standing when he burst through the front door, shrapnel from the grenade exploded through the doorway seconds after he’d gotten out and he could hear some of it embed itself in the interior of the wall behind him.

When Kenny entered through the doorway, they were face to face. Kenny's gun was raised aimed at his forehead, and Anderson stood there weaponless. Pulling the trigger, Kenny made the mistake of thinking that it was over, that Anderson was done for. Click. Horror and vindication simultaneously coursed through Crosby and Anderson. The gun was empty. He'd spent all the rounds. Before he could lower his useless gun Anderson was on him like a feral animal. Despite the gunshot wound to Anderson’s right shoulder, he was just as lethal without a weapon as was when he had one. Anderson had him by the throat up against the wall and was pressing his thumbs into Kenny’s throat. Kenny threw two quick punches to Anderson’s jaw, releasing him and making them stumble away from each other. It quickly turned into a fight on the floor. They were biting, kicking, hitting each other, trying to get the upper hand. Kenny managed to land a solid elbow to Anderson’s head but that seemed to be the tipping point that only enraged him. The next thing Kenny knew Anderon had pushed him up and smacked him on the ground, knocking the air out of his lungs, and started to choke him again. Kenny tried to lay in a punch like the first time, but Anderson saw that coming, just dodged away from the fist and started pushing his thumbs into the centre of Kenny’s neck harder.

“FBI! Put up your hands!” Anderson growled but did as he was told. Kenny lay there gasping for breath knowing that it was too easy, Anderson had another trick up his sleeve, and Maggie was too smart not to know it too. She stepped closer, her gun pointed to the back of Anderson’s head, one hand reaching to her waist to grab her cuffs... That’s when Anderson made his move, spinning around and grabbing her by the waist, Anderson pulled her to the ground, the force caused her to let go of her gun. She tried to reach for it but Anderson pulled her towards him by her hair and put her in a chokeholdJaytill hazy from the lack of air Kenny grappled at him from behind. Trying to do something, anything, to save Maggie. Whatever he did worked because Anderson turned back to face him only now he had a bruise on the side of his face that was already swollen. Anderson tried grabbing Kenny by the neck again, but it was clear he was low on energy and just trying to fight until his last breath. Too bad for Anderson that Maggie wasn’t going to let that happen.

Crack.

And then Anderson was unconscious, lying on top of him, and Kenny barely had the strength to move the gun dealing scumbag off of him. “You good?”

“Yeah, thanks.” He looked at the gun in Maggie’s hand and Anderson on the ground. She was holding her gun by the barrel and there was some blood on the handle. “You cold-cocked him?”

“Yeah, I tried shooting him, but I mistook my gun for yours. I told you that you wouldn’t have enough ammo.”

“That you did. Thanks again, for saving my ass.”

“Any time.”

“I’m gonna call the team and let them know they don’t have to come in guns blazing... Especially because we are surrounded by improperly stored weapons and ammo. I’ll probably call for an ambulance too, to come to check you out.”

“What? Me?”

“Yeah, he had you in that chokehold pretty hard.”

“He strangled you, twice!”

“Three times actually, you weren’t here for the first one.”

“Even if you have to be dragged over by the ear, you will be getting checked out by the ambulance too.”

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

“I’m going to preface this by saying Maggie’s fine, she doesn’t even have a concussion.”

“... That was the absolute worst way to start this call. Are you aware of that? Oh the heart attack you’re giving me? What the fuck happened?”

“Long story short, we found Jason Anderson and he tried to kill us.”

“And the long version? Actually, wait do I even want to know?”

“Probably not, but you want to know anyway because you think it will make you worry less, even though we both know it won’t, don’t you?”

“... Yes.”

“We got shot at a lot, got pinned down behind one of the massive trees they have out here, split up with me providing the distraction, I almost got blown up, my magazine was empty from providing cover so we went hand-to-hand, the door at the back was blocked by crates of uzis so it took her a while to get back, I got strangled three separate times, managed to land good hits, so did he, he threw Maggie on the ground when she showed up and she hit her head, he put her in a chokehold, I got her out of it by pinching his armpits really hard after punching wasn’t working, he tried to strangle me for the third time and Maggie cold-cocked him with my empty gun cause she couldn’t find hers. The paramedics cleared her, she’ll be fine. I think that Hana’s gonna try to drag us to the local clinic when we get back to town.”

“She’s okay?”

“Completely, she doesn’t even have a headache or sore throat, and she really saved my ass back there. She’s good. She’s with Hana right now actually. Hana was really off when everyone showed up, she’s been pretty worried and she won’t believe me when I say I’m okay but she’ll believe Maggie. You know you could probably call her, check up on her yourself? We were talking with the paramedics and she kept talking about this halal burger place you brought her to and she’d do anything for one of those right now... But from the look on her face when she brought you up, I’d wager she was actually talking about you. She misses you, even spent an hour talking about you when we all got Thai food in Boston.”

“Alright, thanks, man. I don’t know what I’d do if she wasn’t okay.”

“Gee, thanks for showing your concern for me. You know, your brother in arms-”

“Alright-”

“Fellow ex-ranger-”

“Okay-”

“Favourite blonde-”

“I’m glad you’re alright Kenny. I just can’t believe you two went up against Jason Anderson and walked away unscathed.”

“Actually my throat is pretty sore and the paramedics found some shrapnel in my right leg, all of it was shallow but some of it got pushed in deeper during the fight.”

“... Just go to a hospital, man. Seriously. Also, Hailey is my favourite blonde now. Sorry.”

“What?!”

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

“We have a problem.”

“What kind of problem, Hana?” Jess may have sounded cool, calm, and collected, but anyone who knew him was able to tell it was the opposite. Jess LaCroix likes for things to get done and stay done, according to Tali that’s why he hates doing the dishes, and this threw a serious wrench in everyone’s plans to escort the culprits, and children because children’s aid still hasn’t shown up, back to Boston and then go home to New York.

“Anderson’s set up a buy, a big one. Everything in that house except for two AK-47’s, ten grenades, and eight rounds of ammo for the AK-47, is for a single buyer, they’re meeting at the base of a hiking trail in two days.”

“Fuck. There were uzis and bazookas, who the hell are these guys.” Anderson was just a weapons dealer, and he was dangerous enough, Kenny really wasn’t looking forward to meeting whoever the buyer was. “I don’t know, I couldn’t find out, but there is some, I guess, good news. They think that he blew up an FBI agent and that that’s who’s in the hospital under armed guard. They think he got away, want to do the exchange earlier than planned, they want to meet in two hours, the same location.”

“Hana, we have the opportunity to also take down some pretty dangerous buyers too, that’s great news, why don’t you think so?”

“Kenny, they don’t know his exact face but they have a description. Six feet tall, blonde, blue eyes, muscular-”

“You think I have muscles?” Kenny realized his attempt at lightening the mood wasn’t welcome when no one chuckled along with him, muttering a quick apology before looking back at Hana, whose face displaced what he could only describe as contained distress. “Kenny, you’re pretty banged up, you shouldn’t be going out there.”

“Hana, I’ll be fine. Everything’s mostly superficial, SWAT hasn’t gone back to Boston yet, and we may not get another chance to get these guys. It has to be done, and quickly. I’ll be okay.” She took a deep breath and looked down at the papers on the table in front of her. She did not like it, that much was very obvious, but she looked frustrated that his logic was right, and that they’d have to go through with his, admittedly not very well thought out, plan. “Alright, I guess I’ll go and get the tech set up.” Jess coughed to draw attention to himself, along with everyone else in the room they’d been ignoring, and Kenny felt his cheeks heat up. “Sorry, is this the plan we’re going through with and should I get the tech together?”

“While I get the local LEO’s to give us some info on the terrain?” Jess looked them both over before nodding. “Sounds like that’s what we’re doing, thanks for doing all the planning guys, everyone, go get prepared.”

“Kenny, can you come and find me after you’re done talking to the LEO’s? I’d like to talk for a sec.”

“Sure thing Maggie.”

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

His talk with Maggie ended up just being a quick, and confusing, talk.

“I know that it’s been a rough couple of days, but I’m still you really need to be careful.”

“I know, it won’t be like back at the house, there’ll be back up this time, and I’ll have ammo in my gun this time.”

“This isn’t the time to joke but... Okay. And one more thing, be nice to Hana.”

“Aren’t I always nice to Hana? I feel like she’s upset with me but I don’t know what I’ve done wrong.” Maggie sighed before giving him a long look and was clearly debating whether or not to say something. “It’s not that you’ve done anything wrong, it’s just that... current circumstances have been stressing her out. Like me being your partner right now, it’s thrown her off a bit. And she said you’ve been acting strange so she’s worried about you for that on top of your physical safety, and Zadie has been calling and texting her quite a bit asking for updates about you, and it’s just been a lot for her.”

“Why didn’t she tell me any of this?”

“Sometimes it’s easier to talk to someone who isn’t directly involved in the issue. Look, all I’m saying is that you need to be careful, and maybe tell Zadie to not ask about you while you and Hana are working.”

“I didn’t even know she’s been doing that, it doesn’t matter that Hana isn’t in the field, her work is still crucial and she can’t afford to be distracted. Are we good?”

“Yeah, we’re good.”

“Good.”

Maggie was still pretty vague, but when Hana was wiring him up, he promised her he would be careful and cautious, that he was sorry if he worried her, the relief on her face made his heart twinge. He hadn’t meant to make her so concerned.

Two sets of headlights drove up the gravel road that leads to town, bring Kenny back to the present. Two men stepped out of each car and he immediately had to stifle a groan. He was now standing alone in a hiking trail parking lot alone, but with back up hiding in the trees, with four nazis. They were all in their fifties wearing blatant white supremacist clothes. He counted a trump shirt, a confederate flag, an all lives matter shirt, and a swastika shirt. “You Jason Anderson?” Confederate spoke first, and his voice was so loud and boisterous it shook his beer belly. “I am.”

“Is that FBI agent you blew up dead yet?”

“I really didn’t come here, when the feds are really pissed and packing heat, to make small talk. Are you buying or not? I’ve got them all loaded up in the back.”

“Can we see them first?”

“After I see the cash.” Trump shirt looked at confederate for confirmation before walking to the second pick-up truck, because of course, and returned with two stuffed duffle bags. Kenny unzipped them the second they were in front of him, and sure enough, stacks of $100 bills shoved inside in a disorderly fashion. Kenny pretended to count but he was really biding his time, trying to find ways to get them to spill their guts. “What do you guys want with this much firepower, anyway? It’s a bit much for hunting.”

“There’s an abortion clinic a couple of hours away in Boston, we’re going to teach those whores to respect life.” And here I was thinking that these scumbags couldn’t get any worse. Kenny sighed and popped the trunk, revealing the crates of guns, that all had the firing pins removed making them useless, but assholes one through four didn’t need to know that. “Alright, take a look. What do you think?”

“I think... That we just got an arsenal for FREE!” All four aimed their newly attained weapons and... Didn’t fire. “Really? Did you honestly think I’d put ammo in there? Whatever, FBI YOU’RE UNDER ARREST!” They didn’t even have time to start running before the most wanted unit, Maggie, SWAT, and LEO’s had burst out of the trees, guns raised.

Fucking morons.

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

“Hey man, how’d the bust go?”

“Great, we arrested the head of the local faction of the KKK and his minions, apparently. You know, the second the guns were in their hands they tried to blow me to pieces. They thought we, or Anderson rather, would have them all loaded up for them so they could make away with the guns and the cash. You should’ve seen them when they were arrested, they were genuinely surprised that their plan didn’t work, and that no one wanted to hear their bigoted crap. And Anderson’s ex-wife decided to take in all four of Karnstein’s kids, those he had with her husband and brother, which is great because we were worried about what was going to happen to them, but she said she just wants to keep all the siblings together and that’s an example of sainthood if I ever saw one. And before you ask, yes, Maggie’s fine.”

“I’m getting a little predictable when it comes to her, aren’t I?”

“A bit, yeah- hold on one second... I’m back.”

“What was that?”

“I got another call.”

“From who?”

“Zadie.”

“The girl you’re dating who happens to be the roommate of your best friend and the girl you’re in love with?”

“... Shut up.”

“Hahaha no. Look, we’re both idiots, all three of us were until Halstead figured out how to get off. I can’t talk to Maggie about how I feel, not yet and maybe not ever. Losing her husband left horrendous scars and she needs me to be her partner and her friend, she doesn’t need to deal with how I feel. But you and Hana? You could happen, you could talk to her, I know that you spoke with her about your PTSD and she’s told you about serious things in her life and herself. Both of you have a trust and bond that doesn’t need to be tested. It’s tried and true. You don’t deserve to be miserable, drowning yourself in distractions and being a distraction. Just promise me you’ll think about it.”

“Okay, I will. And for what it’s worth, I don’t think you and Maggie are as far away from each other as you think. She talks about you all the time, she told me so many stories about you two in the field. She trusts you implicitly, and the face she makes when she talks about you... There’s nothing platonic about that. So you need to think about talking to your girl and moving forward too, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Am I really not your favourite blonde anymore?”

“Haha, no you’re not, sorry.”

“You knew her for like three days!”

“Eh, still.”

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

“... No, I don’t. But... Maggie told me about the clown fairy princess and I’m gonna tell Halstead about it the next time I call him, which we’ll be in an hour cause I want to catch him before he goes to work. So, HA!”

“Crosby!”

#fbi cbs #FBI Most Wanted #Maggie Bell #hana gibson #oa zidan x maggie bell #maggie x oa #hana gibson x kenny crosby #kenny x hana #OA Zidan #Kenny Crosby #clinton skye #jess lacroix #jay halstead #hailey upton #upstead #zibell #sheryll barnes #One Chicago #Chicago PD

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smhalltheurlsaretaken · 4 years ago

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“The Jedi should have allowed Anakin and Padmé to be openly married and then everything would have been okay” is such an... interesting take.

Here’s a quick recap of all the things that are wrong with their marriage and that do not come from the need for secrecy:

Padmé knew that Anakin slaughtered an entire village and yet never attempted to get him psychological help. It means that she either 1) took what he said about them being animals at face value, or even convinced herself that they weren’t really sentient, 2) thought she could “tame the beast within” and heal Anakin’s brokenness through the power of her love (the most likely option imo - and that’s a very dangerous thought to have about a violent partner) or 3) deemed that the happiness that they both derived from each other’s company was worth more than Anakin facing the consequences of his actions and getting help.

24 year old Padmé married a 19 year old Padawan who had been on one solo assignment - I’m pretty sure that makes him a child in the Jedi’s handbook.

Previous one not good enough? Okay. Padmé, a galactic Senator, married a Jedi - aka the supposedly neutral party her own Senate has authority over. The Order forbidding marriage isn’t the issue here. She’s like his boss’ bosses’ boss!

They are were terrible at managing that relationship. In s2ep4 “Senate Spy,” Padmé got pissed at Anakin because the Council called him away for the night when they had a romantic evening planned. This kind of stuff would have happened regardless of whether or not their relationship was a secret - she married a Jedi. Asking him to disregard even part of his duty for her sake is unfair to the people he’s sworn to defend and the Order he’s pledged his life to. And similarly, asking Padmé to live a half-relationship because Anakin is technically married to a spiritual Order is unfair to her. Which is why Jedi don’t get married.

She exchanged GRIEVOUS FOR ANAKIN WITHOUT CONTACTING ANYONE IN THE GAR OR THE SENATE! (That’s in s4ep4 “Shadow Warrior”). What kind of bs is this? This is why there are rules against attachment, fraternization, not marrying your subordinates, and disclosing your personal relationships to your superiors so they’ll try not to put in positions where you could easily be compromised. She had an hour to decide. That’s enough to make a call. Okay, the Senate is useless and would have debated endlessly. What about contacting at least the Chancellor? We know he’s evil, she doesn’t! Or heck, just the Jedi Council. Or even just Obi-Wan, Anakin’s closest friend and direct boss! She said herself “with Grievous gone we could end the war.” And then Jar Jar chimed in and reminds her that Anakin is her friend. And then she MADE THE EXCHANGE BASED ON ONLY THAT! Uuuugh. She was so compromised it’s ridiculous.

Anakin keeps making stupid decisions over his relationship with her. (Like giving her his lightsaber just to prove that, and I quote: “nothing is more important to [him] than the way he feels about [her]”! That’s not how it’s supposed to work! She’s a Senator and he’s a General in a full-scale war! People’s lives should be more important than how they feel about each other.)

Anakin almost beat a man to death with his fists in Padmé’s living room out of jealousy. (Which Padmé didn’t report - even though that was more signs that Anakin needed counselling.) The Jedi Order forbidding marriage is not responsible for this kind of possessive, abusive behavior.

“As your husband, I demand that you tell the Chancellor you are stepping down.” (From s6ep6 “The Rise of Clovis” - same episode. Padmé was involved in a very critical mission and Anakin lost his shit because she was working with her ex.)

Anakin strangled his pregnant wife to the point of unconsciousness. There’s no beating around the bush for this one. You cannot say this type of behavior was brought about by the Order’s rules. Conjugal violence is on the person hurting their partner.

“I don't know who's in there sometimes. I just know that I'm not happy anymore. I don't feel safe. [...] I think it's best if we don't see each other anymore. At least not for a while. I'm sorry, Anakin.” Yes, absolutely no trouble in paradise. People, that’s not indicative of a healthy relationship.

Padmé took Anakin back after him almost killing Clovis with his bare fists because she was shell-shocked and traumatized by Dooku using the Force to make her kill someone and by Clovis actually dying to save her. Anakin himself didn’t do anything to earn her trust back. That’s not grounds to take back a man you don’t feel safe loving.

Padmé was ready to blind herself to the reality of Anakin’s killing spree at the end of RotS to flee with him. Like, I get where she was coming from, because even Obi-Wan tried to reason with the perpetrator of their Order’s genocide... but... after this list it’s still pretty damning.

tldr: Padmé and Anakin’s relationship was unhealthy from the get-go. Don’t pin Anakin’s disastrous life-choices, controlling behavior and abusive tendencies on the Jedi forbidding marriage. Because tbh, in this case? That kid should not have gotten married, at least not without seeing many mental health specialists first.

#padmé amidala #anakin skywalker #this is NOT character bashing btw #i don't dislike either of them #but their relationship is a disaster #anidala #anti anidala #kinda #star wars #meta #more like me ranting #long post

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coeurdastronaute · 5 years ago

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Essays in Existentialism: Boss

Prompt.. Lexa and Clarke sleep together one night, the next morning Clarke comes in to start her new job and turns out Lexa will be her boss (basically how Meredith and Derek first meet in grey's anatomy) yeah cool...love your writing

The tiny townhouse on the corner of Grant and Lincoln was nearly unpacked, but still occupied the unfinished zone of moving in. The furniture was there, with boxes opened and in various states of emptied. Sheets were tossed on the bed, but it wasn’t made. Clothes were rooted through and half hung in the closet at the top of the stairs. The only things in the fridge were little Chinese take out boxes and a handful of sauce packets.

But that didn’t mean a thing to the bodies on the couch.

Well tired and sated, the two tangled torsos and limbs hung and clung to each other on the small area, not having much to discuss the night before, but rather making the other body too tired to hear and speak and think, and thus fell asleep in a knot. It wasn’t many hours of sleep between the bar and the sex and the moment one of the bodies shifted and the otehr fell to the floor with a thud.

“Ow.”

“What was--”

“Just my back. And hip. And… head,” the body on the floor wheezed slightly, wincing against the pain.

“Oh shit, it’s daylight,” Clarke squinted toward the windows witn no curtains or blinds and realized how late it was. “Oh fuck!”

“Seems to be.”

The body on the couch sat up and hopped over the back before snatching the blanket and carefully wrapping it around her naked body.

“I have to go. I have work...um…”

“Lexa,” she sat up from the floor, propping herself up on her elbows and looking up over the cushions.

Completely naked, the girl on the floor smiled and pushed away a mess of hair while Clarke looked at her and blushed and tried not to look, desperately. She wanted to look, but that would distract her from the process of getting ready, and Clarke had to get to work. It was her first day, after all, beautiful naked sex god be damned.

“Right. Lexa. Nice to meet you, but I have to--”

“Yeah, of course,” she nodded, tugging a pillow in front of herself to shield as much nakedness as possible. “Do you live here?”

“Just moved.”

“Cool. From where.”

“I really have to-- It was fun and all--”

A pair of blank panties were held up from the floor by hands attached to a mischievous hand oddly victorious grin. Clarke remembered the same smile somewhere between the whiskey and tequila, the smile nd the eyes and the intent way the stranger in the bar listened to her words. More importantly, she remembered the fragments of the sex and the things that mouth could do and that was the reason for the victory, and it was deserved.

“But you have to go to work,” Lexa repeated.

With a graceless motion, Clarke reached over the couch and snatched the offending lingerie before agreeing full-heartedly.

“It was nice to meet you, Lexa,” Clarke promised. “But when I come back downstairs, you’ll be gone, and I’ll be on my way to work.”

“Right. Work. I should, too. It was nice, to uh, do this. Maybe we can again--”

The offer was barely acknowledged as Clarke hopped up the stairs and toward the shower, leaving Lexa smiling somewhat, amused at the display before she looked down at herself and chuckled at what the past five minutes of her life looked like.

XXXXXXXXXX

It was incredibly stupid. It was monumentally stupid. It was the dumbest thing she’d ever done, or at least very close to the top of the long list. But after three weeks of refusing to unpack the house and dealing with the question of employment, Clarke couldn’t handle it any longer, and joined the land of the living again. Perhaps a bit too hard, which was, above all else, stupid. Incredibly stupid.

Clarke didn’t have too much time to think about anything else as she sprinted into the tall building that had its own distinct imprint on the city. Hair a mess and shirt sloppily in the process of being tucked in, she flashed her badge and rushed toward the elevators as she repeated how stupid it’d been to get absolutely drunk and hook up with a stranger on the couch, and then not setting an alarm, for her first day of her dream job.

Again and with emphasis, Clarke was an incredibly stupid and gay individual.

“Ms. Griffin,” the receptionist greeted her with a smile. “I’ve been instructed to ask that you wait right here until Ms. Moore is finished with her phonecall.”

“Right, of course,” Clarke nodded as she attempted to underplay how extravagantly winded she was.

Grateful for the moment to process, Clarke took a seat in the reception and processed what the past hour of her life looked like. She somehow woke up and kicked out a very naked woman from her house, that she could almost remember the name of somewhat. And she’d run across town and made it to work. On time, or at least on time enough for her boss.

Only when she’d caught her breath did Clarke realize that she never got Le-- La-- Lara? Lena? Larry? Fuck. She never got the stranger’s number.

“Hey, Clarke, thanks for your patience.”

The woman who interviewed her twice finally walked out from behind the hallowed doors of Woods Publishing, and Clarke gave up trying to remember and prayed she did not smell like as much tequila as she’d inhaled the night before.

“I’m so happy to be here, Ms. Moore,” she grinned and shook the outstretched hand.

“Luna is fine. We’re the creatives,” she winked and led Clarke toward the door. “We get a little more freedom than the stuffed shirts in editing and sales.”

As they moved down the hall, there was a minute smell of weed, and Clarke realized that this job was going to be better than she’d ever imagined.

“I thought for your first day, I’d kind of get you set up, take you to our morning huddle and pitch meetings, and then after lunch make you meet everyone in a super awkward and invasive department bash.”

“Bash?”

“Yeah, well, people stop coming when I call them meetings and ice-breakers. I’ve decided to rename things different, more fun words to trick them into the same meetings.”

“How’s it going so far?”

“Amazingly well. Just wait until you see the turn out for your meet-and-greet… I mean bash.”

Clarke couldn’t help but smile. Her boss was calm and cool, funny and approachable, and most importantly, she was clearly very into her job, which was a godsend. Hiring was often abou personality and camaraderie, as in how well a new personality would fit into a team, and Clarke already felt at home.

The day went by easily enough, as all first days are known to do. She met her team and got her desk, got to feel out a little of how the day flowed with the promise of her assignments arrival soon enough. Luna passed her off around lunch to one of the teammates, and Clarke fell into enjoying her new coworkers with very light company gossip over not terrible sandwiches in the cafeteria. She learned all about the office romances and the merger, the new corporate structure and how great it was compared to other companies. She learned about the owner’s daughter who started a few months ago and was actually nice to work for, and more importantly, Clarke learned that there was a very lax policy when it came to punctuality. She breathed a sigh of relief.

By the end of the day, Clarke felt like she would like it there, and was eager to help and work on drawing some of the projects. She was ready to work with the team and she was ready to finally be creative and produce something.

“Thank you all again, for welcoming Clarke to our team,” Luna grinned and held up her glass as the rest of the team did the same.

She was right, of course, that calling it a bash did something to make them all want to stay a few minutes later and mingle.

“Enjoy the gift baskets sent from the studio for our last project, but within reason. And we’ll jump right in tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” Clarke smiled and accepted a drink.

“I’ll see you bright and early. We’ll get you started on part of our new programming and onto the new project.”

“I can’t wait.”

Clarke found herself pulled into a conversation over artwork for the storyboard on the wall in the main rom, and even though it was technically about work, the other artists were more than eager to talk about their plans, even over drinks.

And then she looked up and nearly spit out her drink before turning around very quickly so that her back was to the familiar green eyes and the person she’d kicked onto the floor that very morning.

“Looks like the boss decided to make a stop. I’m going to finally ask her out,” one of the guys decided as he stood a little straighter and awkwardly fixed his hair.

“There’s no way Lexa Woods gives you the time of day,” Raven scoffed, sipping her drink and sneaking a look at the grinning CEO. “I bet you twenty bucks she doesn’t even speak to you.”

“She’s really nice.”

“Oh, I know. But I bet she won’t even notice you.”

Clarke felt the blood leave her face as she hurried to sneak another look to confirm that it was, in fact, hell freezing over. And sure enough, for some stranger reason, in a city of hundreds of thousands of people, she was in the same room as the stranger she drunkenly hooked up with sixteen hours beforehand.

And that stranger was her boss’ boss’ boss’ boss. That stranger was Lexa Woods, CFO of Woods Publishing, daughter of the owner, inheritor to the castle.

“What do you think, Clarke?” Raven turned toward her. Just five minutes ago, Clarke liked Raven, but now, she wanted to disappear and Raven was blocking the exit. “Think Dan here has a chance?”

“I don’t really know anything about her,” Clarke shrugged and downed the rest of her drink, careful to stay turned around.

She didn’t know anything about Lexa Woods, except how she tasted and the noises she made and this thing she did with her fingers that--

“She hasn’t been here long, but she’s actually not the worst, as far as suits go. She likes the creative floors. Her dad’s given her a few projects I’ve been on and I think we work pretty well together,” she explained, offering Clarke a refill.

“Cool, cool, nice.”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Or you’re a very bad drinker.”

“I, uh, had a few too many last night.”

“Hair of the dog then,” Raven grinned and clinked their glasses. “I think I’m going to like having you around, Griffin. At least until you start asking for advanced tech and drive me crazy with your doodles. Oh shit, there he goes.”

Despite herself, Clarke turned around and watched the illustrator move through the crowd. She looked immediately at Lexa and actually caught her eye. She held the look and she watched Lexa smile at her, though she couldn’t move to return it. Mortification was at the forefront of her brain. That and oddly proud of herself for pulling someone like Lexa Woods, even when she wasn’t on her A game.

Only when Clarke saw Dan get close, did she look away and break the stupor she found herself stuck in.

“I can’t believe he hasn’t figured out that she’s gay.”

“What?”

“Dan has the worst gay-dar of all time,” Raven chuckled. “I almost feel bad taking his money. Almost.”

Sure enough, as he walked up toward his boss’ boss’ boss, full of confidence and vim, Lexa didn’t even notice him, her eyes firmly locked on Clarke’s as she moved through the crowd, finally deciding to approach. It took a few steps before Clarke realized what was happening, and only then did she feel the two and a half drinks she’d had.

She really didn’t like Raven.

“I knew it.”

Clarke didn’t say a word, but rather looked for a quick escape, though none existed and she already knew that.

“Hey, I thought I’d come welcome you to the team personally. I’m Lexa Woods.”

With a smile and her hand outstretched, the CEO stood there, as if she hadn’t gone down on her new employee on her couch.

“Lexa Woods, as in…”

“Yeah, that’s my name outside, but don’t hold it against me,” she grinned, holding the handshake a little bit longer. “It was Callie, right?”

“Clarke.”

“I’m sorry. Clarke.”

“I didn’t expect to see you on my first day.”

“Yeah,” Lexa chuckled. “I can imagine. I like hanging out down here more than upstairs. How are you, Ms. Reyes?”

“Doing alright,” Raven nodded, appraising the scene before her. “Taking Clarke under my wing, as it were.”

“I’d be careful,” the boss warned. “It was nice to meet you again, Clarke. I’ll see you guys later. I have a meeting I should try to get to ontime. Punctuality is key.”

Clarke burned red and nodded.

“Nice to meet you, too, Ms. Woods.”

“Lexa’s fine.”

“Yeah you are.”

Lexa just smiled and waved again before disappearing. Dan joined the group a second later and passed a twenty to his friend. The boss left the room a moment later without a look back, and Clarke finally breathed.

“So,” Raven furrowed. “When did you fuck our boss?”

XXXXXXXXXX

For three weeks, Clarke managed to avoid all thoughts and ideas of Lexa Woods, CEO and absolute beauty. She didn’t avoid her social media, nor did she avoid much of the idle gossip about her at work, but for the most part, Clarke refused to think about her as much as possible, which amounted to about never.

Sometimes at work, she was able to go for hours, focusing on her projects. Sometimes, Clarke found herself avoiding areas she suspected she might show up, and for three glorious weeks, she was fairly successful.

Bent over her drawing board, Clarke found herself in a period of Lexa-less thoughts, happy to escape her life and all else, and instead find some sort of outlet for everything she’d been feeling over the past year.

“These are very good.”

“Fuck, you scared me,” Clarke breathed, turning around quickly. “I mean. Not fuck.”

“I’m sorry I haven’t followed up,” Lexa smiled softly, hands tied behind her back as she perused Clarke’s wall of sketches for the short they were doing. “I was out of town on business. How is your first month going, Ms. Griffin?”

“Do you take such an interest in all of your employees, or just the ones you seduce?”

“I believe you were the one seducing. I was drunk and adorable and you took advantage of me in my drunk and adorable state.”

Clarke balked and grit her teeth before seeing that Lexa was making fun of her, which did nothing to calm her.

“Someone who pins the other to their front door, is not being taken advantage of.”

She smiled again and Clarke found it infuriating. And hot. But also infuriating a little more.

“I did do that, didn’t I?” Lexa nodded. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to address that… trist.”

“It was a fluke, and I think we should stay professional. Like we have.”

“I thought I was keeping it fairly professional.”

“I just mean, you can’t-- we don’t have to talk about that… trist.”

“Or we could?” she waited to gauge Clarke’s reaction. “Or not. Definitely not. Very professional. Just pretend it never happened.”

“Exactly. Thank you for stopping by, Ms. Woods.”

“Lexa is still fine. We’re going to be working together a bit. Everyone calls me Lexa.”

“Professional,” Clarke repeated.

“Casual, even. Professionally casual.”

“Exactly.”

XXXXXXXXX

“Professional,” Lexa nodded to herself and tried to catch her breath. The naked body beside her repeated the same thing with a sigh.

“But we can’t do that again. We were just scratching an itch,” Clarke reasoned as Lexa agreed, humming along with the familiar song.

If any of that were true, she wouldn’t have been naked in Clarke’s half-made bed, next to a full-naked girl. If she had anything to say about it, they’d be doing it much more and often and professionally. But she was the boss, and she wasn’t allowed to make that call. Clarke had to make it. And Lexa was very grateful that Clarke made it.

It wasn’t Lexa’s fault that they enjoyed the same bar, or that they happened to notice each other, and it wasn’t her fault that she liked kissing Clarke.

“I quite like scratching that itch with you.”

Lexa turned her head and watched Clarke smile before regaining her composure.

“Don’t sweet talk me, Woods. I’m your employee.”

“Yeah, but like, only kind of.”

Clarke turned and gave her a look before Lexa chuckled and rolled toward her, pressing her luck as she pressed against Clarke, kissing her shoulder and her neck.

“What are we supposed to do?” Clarke turned over as well. “Go into HR and tell them we’re sleeping together?”

“I could fire you?”

“Lexa.”

“I could quit?”

“Shut up.”

“Or you could agree to go on an actual date with me, and promise not to take your clothes off.”

“You’re the one that takes them off of me!”

Despite her wiggling, Clarke let Lexa pull her closer. She ran her fingertips along Lexa’s cheek, squishing her cheeks together so she was making fish lips and smiled at the display, amused at herself and how Lexa let her do that.

“I zwant tovee hrofeshinal widzth you. Vutd I sink I alike you.”

“You sound ridiculous.”

Lexa sighed until Clarke let go of her cheeks, unable to keep the smile there. Instead she held her chin now, between her forefinger and thumb, keeping her steady and there. Fingertips moved up and down her back.

“I think we can do this without messing up work.”

“How?”

“We just don’t work together. I’ll stay off of your projects. Luna has complete control over personnel and who is on what.”

“If it goes bad?”

“Then I’ll definitely quit. Sell the company probably. Move to Zurich,” she decided.

“That plan developed quickly.”

“It’s always in my back pocket in case a beautiful girl who works for me creates a problem. I will not be caught unprepared again.”

“Again?”

“It’s an expression.”

“Mmm,” Clarke smiled and nodded.

She didn’t waste a moment. She leaned forward and kissed Lexa because she had to be certain, and she had to find some kind of bravery. She should think about it more, and she should have made a pros and cons list, but something about this moment, this person, Clarke just felt alive, and she’d been chasing it for so long.

“Did I get the job?”

“You got a date. One date.”

“I can work with that.”

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glenncoco4 · 4 years ago

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War Zone Ch. 6

A/N: Part of this story may sound familar to you guys. 😂

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

Present

He steps out of the bathroom, freshly showered, as he pulls the towel off his head, his jaw immediately dropping at the sight before him. Standing across the room in a figure hugging black dress that excentuates her bump and her larger breast is his gorgeous wife. “Wow, maybe we should just order in and…do stuff.”

She can’t help the implication at his words as he comes up behind her, his lips immediately finding the hollow of her neck. “There’ll be plenty of time for that tonight but we have to go.”

He sighs, his chin finding its place on her shoulder as his eyes lock with hers in the mirror.“Seriously, who gets married on New Years?”

“I tried to talk her out of it, but she’s just as stubborn as I am.”

“You Blye women always get your way.”

Her eyes light up, as she turns around in his arms, her semi-protruding belly pressed between them. She leans in, closing the distance between their lips unable to wipe the smile off her face. “Yes. Yes we do.”

XXXX

December 31, 2008

“5, 4, 3, 2, 1…HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

The Chief Petty Officer’s smile quickly fades as her team celebrates around her. Being separated from her husband for over 3 weeks now is effecting her in a way that she didn’t see coming. Stepping out of the tent, Kensi makes her way over towards her bunker, the sinking feeling of not being with him starts taking over. 2 weeks after the explosion she was sent back into the field. Marty had also gotten his new assignment, sadly in Kuwait, so they had 14 days really to take in that newly wedded bliss before coming back to the hot desert, but even then, those days were spent recovering from their injuries.

She steps into the dark room, only the generator light a few yards away projecting enough light to illuminate the entrance and a bag that wasn’t there before. The air around her makes the blood immediately drain from her face...she’s not alone. Her hand finds the gun in her waistband as she slowly draws it out, keeping her eyes focused as her other hand reaches for the lamp switch.

As the small light illuminates the room, her goes wide as the door shuts behind her. Sitting at her desk chair, facing her is that golden mop of hair with the grin that she’s missed so much spread across his face.

“Kinky.”

She’s at a loss for words, but that doesn’t stop her from sitting her gun on the table and launching herself towards him, her lips smashing into his.“What are you doing here?”

He pulls back just enough to get a full glimpse of those mismatched chocolate orbs that he’s missed so much. God he loves her. “I just got my new assignment.”

“And?”

“I’ll be following team 2.”

A mixture of shock and disbelief crosses her features, afraid that this is all a dream she can’t help but ask anyway.“Really?”

“Yeah. Apparently there’s this really badass, up and coming Chief Petty Officer that my boss wants to do a story on.”

Standing up from her place on his lap, she walks towards the door, making sure it’s locked and secure before turning around, her eyes focused solely on him as she begins to shed her clothes. “Lucky for you I have the inside scoop.”

He’s unable to wipe the grin from his face as she closes the distance between them once again, this time straddling his lap as his cock throbs with desire.“Lucky me.”

XXXX

Present

Their bodies sway with the music as they make their way across the makeshift dance floor. His lips find the crown of her head just as a breeze comes in off the Pacific, introducing an intoxicating scent of lavender and ocean air to his nose.

She’s been waiting for them to get a moment alone together tonight, what with Talia, Sam and the rest of their family running around, interrupting them at any giving moment. Noticing that they’re all preoccupied at the moment, Kensi finally sees her chance. “So I have some news.”

“Oh?”

“Well, I was just talking to Sam’s friend Noah’s partner, she’s a Producer for this new crime show that’s being developed and they’re looking for a double/stunt person for one of the main characters.”

“And she asked you?”

She tilts her head back, her eyes locking with his, unable to stop the tears in her eyes at the hopefulness in his cerulean blues. Always so damn supportive. “Sam told her about me and how I have all the right training and looking for a new career to start after the baby comes, since I retired.”

“You told her yes, right?”

“I told her yes.”

He hugs her tight, as much as her protruding belly will let him and lifts her up. “Kens, that’s amazing!”

XXXX

January 1, 2009 - Early Morning

They both let out one more moan before he roles over onto his side, both trying to catch their breath.“So you never told me.”

“Never told you what?” The small light coming from the lamp in the corner, illuminating her curious chocolate orbs.

“If you weren’t a SEAL, what would you want to do?”

“Don’t laugh, okay?”

He nods, as he props his head against his hand. His attention solely focused on his wife. Honestly he’s not sure what to expect to come out of her mouth but he knows its gonna be good whatever it is.

Mimicking his position, Kensi props her head against her hand, nervously biting her lip. She’s about to reveal something to him that she’s never told anyone before. The deep seeded issues she’s had from previous relationships has been weighing on her from the start of her relationship with her husband, but she has to remember that he’s different, in every aspect...he’s different. “I think I’d like to do stunt work for television and maybe film.”

“I could totally see you doing that.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely. There’s no doubt in my mind that there isn’t anything that you can’t do.”

The excitement that’s shining in his cerulean blues, makes unfamiliar emotions starts to make themselves known. They’ve been together for almost a year and in that year he’s never made her feel like she doesn’t deserve all the love in the world, to be someone’s favorite person.“Stop.”

His brow furrows, confused at her reaction. “Stop, what?”

“Stop saying those things. I’m already in enough emotional distress as it is.”

Shaking his head, he brings his free hand across her naked waist, pulling her into him. He crashes his lips against hers, earning a moan from her lips. “You’re gonna have to get used to it, baby. I will never not support you. I wanna know every thing about you.”

Her lips find his once more, smiling at his words. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“What would you do if you weren’t an investigative photographer?”

“I think I’d like to be a gigolo.”

She can’t hold back the cackle of laughter at his choice, even though she knows he’s just messing with her. “For real.”

“Okay, fine, a hand model.”

“Baby, seriously.”

“Seriously?” His brow furrows, as his brain processes the question. He’s never really thought about being anything else but one idea does come to mind. “I think I’d like to be a teacher, you know, mold young minds. Maybe teach kids that there’s more of the world for them to see and how doing it through a lens magnifies just how intricate and special life around us is.”

She can’t help but be mesmerized by his words, the way his eyes light up when he’s talking about something important, just one of the reasons why she fell in love with him.

Marty is so wrapped up in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice the dream filled gaze that his wife is giving him.“What?”

Shaking her head in awe, her nails find the scruff of his jaw as she gets lost in his eyes thinking about their future.“You’re gonna make a great dad one day.”

His throat goes dry at her words. He’s never really talked about his father, but she knows it wasn’t the best and the fact that those words left her lips means everything to him.“You have no idea how much that means to hear you say that.”

A playful spark shines in her eyes along with a smirk starting to curl at her lips. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”

He nods his head, unable to stop the smile from spreading to his face. The look on her face does things to him that nothing ever has before. Quickly making his desire into action, he flips her on her back, straddling her. “Yes, and you’re the father.”

“I thought you said you were on the pill?”

“Yeah, Flintstone vitamins.” The same spark is in her eye as she lets out a belly laugh before her hand reaches for his neck, pulling him towards her. His lips meet hers hungrily as round 2 quickly begins.

XXXX

Present

The band continues to play a soft melody as the party starts to die down, she’s wrapped in his arms, relishing in this content moment with her husband. The cool ocean breeze coming off the Pacific sends her in a trance, thinking about their future and the little bean growing inside her. Being able to go through all of this with her best friend is something she never imagined until she met him. Tilting her head back, she smiles as her eyes meet his.

“You look like you could use a nice long soak in a jacuzzi tub.”

“To bad we don’t have one at home.”

A knowing grin spreads to his lips. “Yeah, but the one in our hotel room does.”

“What did you do?”

“I may have booked us a room at the hotel next door.”

She can feel the heat pool in her belly as the look of unadulterated love shines in his eyes. “What are we still doing here?”

He can feel the warmth spread through his body as he watches her eyes grow a shade darker. Quickly taking hold of her hand, he pulls her along as they make a quick exit from the crowd, hurriedly making their way out of the reception.

XXXX

She laughs as her husband tries to maneuver them through the doorway, adamant that he carries across the threshold her bridal style. “Baby, I’m too heavy, put me down.”

He shakes his head, as he carries her into the room and towards their king size bed. “You, my beautiful wife are not heavy.” Gently sitting her down, his lips find hers as his hand cups her jaw. “Besides, what happens if you go into labor and can’t walk? I need to build up my strength.”

“Why wouldn’t I be able to walk?”

“I don’t know.”

Taking is short answer for what it his, Kensi pulls at his tie, coaxing him towards her. “I love you.”

“I love you more.” His words are followed by action, as his hand makes its way under the hem of her dress. She moans against his lips in appreciation before he pulls back, his eyes staring at her with reverence and all consuming love. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Are you trying to make me cry?”

“I mean I guess it would really depend. If it’s to hurt you, definitely not. If its to make you laugh, abso-“

She smiles as he continues to babble, no matter how much she denies it, listening to him just talk and talk is probably one of the most soothing things to her. But right now she really needs his hand to continue to do what it was doing along with his mouth. “Marty?”

“Huh?”

“Shut up and fuck me.”

“You’re the boss.” His hand makes its way further under the hem of her dress, as his fingers inch their way up her thigh and come into contact with soaked lace.

He pushes the material to the side, his fingers finding her wet folds, making her scream out in pleasure. “Marty!”

One thing that he knows will never get old is this...his beautiful wife screaming out his name, writhing beneath his touch. His tongue fights hers as her hand works its way beneath his briefs and finds his throbbing cock. “God, Kens.”

“Baby, more.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. Quickly standing up from the bed, he strips his pants and boxers from his body with no time to remove his shirt before she’s hiking her dress around her waist and on all fours in front of him, flaunting her wet folds.

As she situates herself on the pillows, he pumps his cock a few times before coming up behind her and sliding his hard member into her creamy, wet opening.

They both moan out in ecstasy as he pounds into her over and over again, the feeling of every bump and groove of his cock sliding against her in all the right places. It only takes a minute before they’re both creeping over the edge, screaming out the other’s name. They’re sent into oblivion as she matches his even faster pace before letting out one final moan.

Slowly pulling out of her, he finds his place next to her on the bed where she’s now laying flat on her back, panting as she tries to catch her breath. “Happy New Year, baby.”

“Happy New Year, Princess.” He turns his head, mesmerized by the glow of her skin and...her, before scooting in closer, bringing his lips to hers.

Her head finds his chest, the cotton of his dress shirt dampened by their latest activities. She starts toying with a button, lost in thought at the officality of this year and all it will bring. “Can you believe that time next year, there’ll be three of us?”

He places a kiss to the top of her head unable to hide the smile on his face. “Pretty great huh?”

“Yeah, but you know what else would be pretty great?” She tilts her head back, locking eyes with him knowing that he can already read her thoughts.

“Bubble bath and cheesecake for two?”

She doesn’t respond, instead she takes action. Slowly standing up off the bed, she pulls her sun dress up and over her head, revealing her very much larger breast to her husband. His eyes immediately going wide as she sensually walks towards the bathroom where their next adventure awaits. “Don’t forget the cheesecake.”

#Densi #Densi AU #Kensi Blye Deeks #Marty Deeks #War Zone #NCIS: LA #AU

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toloveawarlord · 4 years ago

Text

Ch. 1

Pairing: Wren Blackwell x Jonah Clemence

Tagging: @plumpblueberry @starry-starry-night24 @youreawizardharr (please let me know if you want to be tagged!)

A/N: Day 4 of the 12 Days of OCmas! Are Wren and Jonah as Star Crossed and Wren believes?

The tinkling of the bell above the door signaled their arrival. Too early for incoming influx of captains and merchants with documents to be reviewed and approved. Another two hours should have been free to work on overhauling the filing system that her boss had struggled to keep in order. She didn’t need to rush after hearing her son exclaim the visitor’s names.

“Uncle Fenrir! Uncle Ray!” The ten-year old’s voice echoed through the small building laced with surprise and joy. Abandoning his schoolwork for a chance to spend time with his two uncles. Amber eyes sparkled up at the two. Rarely did he get a visit from his family.

Fenrir beamed a grin at him, accepting the welcoming hug. “Reece, ya got taller!” He stopped by any time he came down to the ports, pitching in to help if Wren needed it.

Which meant today must be business. Never did Ray come by her work without warning. Placing down the files in their proper piles, Wren maneuvered through the chaos to emerge from the office. “Reece, you can go out for a break.” She didn’t want him to hear any military discussions, lest he want to join.

“Come on, I’ll buy ya a treat if it’s alright with your mom,” Fenrir offered to the eager boy, glancing to her for the okay.

It was like looking at two needy puppies. “That’s fine.” As Reece raced out the front door, Wren called to the ace with a serious tone. “No guns this time. I’ll kick your ass if you even think about it.”

She received a salute paired with wicked grin. “Yes, ma’am.”

“This time?” Ray questioned, emerald eyes moving from the vacant doorway to his sister.

“Reece is becoming increasingly interested in weapons ever since he was allowed to shoot Fenrir’s gun,” Wren replied with irritation. She’d agreed to teaching her son a little hand-to-hand combat for self-defense. At no point, had permission been given for him to wield a weapon.

Ray chuckled at her frown. “I count myself lucky that Fenrir came away in one piece.” His memories of a protective older sister when they were but children resurfaced with nostalgia. Though she came across as calm and collected, she possessed incredible fighting skill that could rival some of his chosen thirteen.

The army would gain much if Wren agreed to join, but he knew that she would never, not with her son to protect.

The two moved into the messy office for privacy. Wren cleared a spot on the desk to sit while Ray claimed the only empty armchair. “What are you looking for?”

“Shipping manifests that could pass initial inspection but might be importing contraband.”

Wren cast a glance over the organized mess. “I’ll look into it. Though, it will undoubtedly take me a few hours. What is it that’s being smuggled in?” If she had a frame of reference, then it would make the search much easier.

“You know I’m not supposed to tell you that.” The investigation now a joint one. He’d have to explain to the Reds why he involved a civilian in a sensitive, top secret mission.

“If I know what I’m looking for, the box size and contents will be much simpler to find.”

Ray shifted to cross his legs, mulling over his options. Trust wasn’t the issue. He knew Wren would be discrete and quick. But involving her meant bringing up her name at the meeting with Red Army late tonight. Was it better to have some information than come up empty with those smug bastards?

“Stop worrying. I want to help, so let me.”

He sighed. “Tainted magic crystals. They’re small enough to go undetected but a single one can cause massive damage. If the calculations are even slightly correct, the influx that has been reported could destroy half of Cradle. Wren, you don’t have to agree to this. I understand if you want me to walk away.”

A dire situation. Time sensitive.

Wren could see why he’d been hesitant to tell her. Part of her, the mother part, wanted to tell him no. Becoming involved opened her and Reece up to being targets. Her common sense wanted her to walk away.

But Ray would only come to her with something so dangerous if it weren’t his last option.

“I’ll do what I can.”

The King of Spades relaxed at her agreement. “Thanks, sis. I’ll assign a soldier to keep watch here and at your home. Just as a precaution.” His gaze flickered to the large clock sitting on the wall. They’d made a detour here.

“Go on. I know how busy you are. I’ll come by with whatever I find,” Wren said with a wave of her hand. They hardly saw each other but on a few of his off days.

After the two officers left, Wren gathered all the shipping manifests that were within the last few months to pour over at home. She only took a break to cook a light meal and eat with her son before it was back to examining the documents.

Night had settled in by the time she discovered anything significant. There were a handful of suspect items that had been flagged, but only one stood out. Regardless of her gut feeling, Wren took all of the evidence and would allow them to mark off the ones that were unneeded.

“Reece, I’m going to take some things to Ray. I’ll be back later-”

“I wanna come!” He cut her off, abandoning his schoolwork to scramble over the back of the couch. Amber eyes as big as a puppy, begging to for permission.

Wren reached out and brushed her hand through his red hair. Normally, it would be alright, but she wanted him nowhere near this case. “Not this time. I won’t be gone long. Stay here, okay?”

“Aww, but mom!” Reece protested with a frown.

“Please don’t fight me on this, Reece.” She pressed a kiss to his head as she gave him a tight hug. To admit it would be too hard, but there were more reasons than simply his safety from outside threats that she worried about.

<< << <<

Soldiers at the gate had redirected her to Central Quarter. The two armies had convened, and she’d have to find Ray there. The neutral zone hadn’t changed much. Wren only came when she absolutely needed to. She’d chosen to live in the port town of Black Territory, far away from anyone in Red Territory.

The meeting had come to a close by the time she arrived. She’d been greeted by the 10 of Spades on his way out with a tip of his hat. Wren stayed in the foyer of the Civic Center, finding a nice pillar to hide behind. The Jacks exited next and following them the Queens.

Their boots were all that echoed throughout the large room. Their dislike for each other well known. As one came to a stop, so did the other. “Who’s there? The Civic Center is closed. You’re trespassing.”

Ten years.

It had been ten years since she’d heard that voice.

And it still caused her heart to throb painfully inside her chest.

His steps grew closer.

If she continued to hide, it would reflect poorly. Wren moved from her spot behind the pillar. With stiff movements, she passed Jonah without a word, instead moving to Sirius. “I brought what the King of Spades asked for. I was only waiting for him to come down.”

“He mentioned that. I’ll deliver them for you.” Sirius took the compiled documents and headed back for the stairs. He cast a worried glance back over his shoulder, but the woman was already heading for the door.

Don’t look back. Keep walking.

Her palm pressed against the door, but cool fingers wrapped around her other wrist. Wren tensed at his touch, wanting to pull away but found herself unable to.

“I’m owed an explanation.”

He was right.

“You drop out of school and disappear for ten years.”

Her reason one that he wouldn’t understand.

“Wren! Look at me!” A gentle, but firm command.

Emerald green met beautiful molten amber.

Wren swallowed down the lump in her throat. It hurt more than she’d imagined it would. Strong emotions that she’d bottled up and shoved deep into her heart, rattled in their cage, threatening to burst out. If they did, she feared she’d lose all control. “We were dumb kids, who didn’t understand that it would never work.”

Not even she believed the words that passed her lips.

“How could you possibly know that?” He wore so many emotions. Hurt. Confusion. Anger. She’d vanished. The day prior they were sneaking off during a break to be alone, and the next, gone. No explanation. No note. “I searched for you. I went into Black Territory against my families wishes-”

His family the catalyst of her disappearance.

But she couldn’t reveal that.

“Jonah, we’re different people now. You’re exactly where you’re meant to be, and if we’re being completely honest, the Queen of Hearts could never be with the King of Spades older sister. One thing or another always got in our way.” Whether it be his family or the Red Territory fan girls who hounded her for even speaking to him back in school. His duties joining the army would have broken them apart, and once Ray became the King, that would have done them in as well. “It’s for the best.”

He was still the Jonah she’d fallen in love with. His brows creased, not willing to accept that he couldn’t have everything that he wanted. “Did you think me not enough to protect you?”

It had little to do with protection. Wren tugged her hand free, shaking her head. “You would never go against your family.” She turned and shoved the door open to escape into the chilled night air. Pain blossomed across her chest. Her legs threatened to give out.

Return to Black Territory and try to forget.

As if it worked the last ten years.

“What is that supposed to mean?” He couldn’t simply give in. None of his questions had been answered. Jonah followed; his voice drenched in confusion. “This isn’t about my parents. You left me, Wren! Without so much as a word. I deserve to know why!”

She clenched her fists and whirled around to face him. “It’s always been about them, Jonah! Do you have any idea how many times your mother found a way to make my life miserable? She’s the one who had me pulled from your class, turned my teachers against me, and she tried to pay me off when--” Wren caught herself before she blurted out the one thing she refused to speak of. Emerald irises fell away from the shock on his features.

Their raised voices had drawn the attention of the Jacks loitering by the fountain and with them, someone who was meant to be at home.

“Pay you off for what?” Jonah couldn’t think of a single thing that would require an exchange of money.

“It doesn’t matter. I didn’t take the money, but I did leave. It’s over, Jonah. I think it’s better if we just pretend we’re strangers.”

“No. I refuse to leave things this way-”

A small hand slipped into hers. Reece wore a concerned expression. He’d never seen her so upset. “Mom?” He’d disregarded her wishes, following her all the way to Central Quarter, where he’d never been before.

Jonah glanced between the two. “Mom? You have a son?” It was dark but the moonlight illuminated the boy well enough.

Matching amber eyes met for the first time.

The missing piece walked right into the puzzle.

#ikemen revolution #ikerev #jonah clemence #ray blackwell #fenrir godspeed #reece blackwell #wren blackwell #star crossed lovers

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imagineaworlds · 4 years ago

Text

I Love You (Part Thirty-Four) -- Aaron Hotchner

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: Cursing. Death. Mentions of torture. Panic attack-- everything Criminal Minds.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Greenaway!Reader

Word Count: 12919

Timeline: Season 5 Episode 09. A few days after part thirty-three.

Hotch put his hand on my knee to stop me from bouncing it at an annoying and distracting pace. I stopped and tried to relax, even though the rest of my body still felt like a goddamn Mexican Jumping Bean. Every inch of me was shaking as nerves ran through my veins. While bouncing my leg, I had been so lost in thought about what was about to happen that I didn’t even notice that it had upset Hotch. And despite the fact that I felt the urge to start the habit up again once his hand retreated from my thigh, I used every bit of self-restraint I had to refrain from doing so. Hotch was already upset, I didn’t need to add to that. I needed to be there for him, I needed to help him however he needed. He didn’t need me to be annoying or distracting. That was valid. So, I stopped.

The door to our left opened suddenly. Hotch and I both jumped to our feet, his hand finding mine and squeezing so tight I felt my knuckles touching. I winced, but still tried to squeeze back in order to comfort him and tell him: “I’m here. It’s okay. You’re okay. We’re okay.” For the past few days, he needed to hear me say it every chance we could get. “I’m here. It’s okay. You’re okay. We’re okay.” And then he could breathe for a bit until he needed to hear it again. I knew that no matter what, I'd say it as many times as he needed to hear it, no matter how repetitive it got. “I’m here. It’s okay. You’re okay. We’re okay.”

Emily stepped into the hallway, her eyes glued to the floor until she saw our shoes, and she slowly glanced up. Her face was soft and sad, like she had been holding back tears for the past hour that she had been inside that conference room. If Emily looked that bad, if Emily could crack, then I was fucked. Emily was perhaps the strongest out of all of us, even if no one wanted to admit it. She, like Hotch, had been through too much in her life already to break when it came to losing someone or something. But after what I saw, after what we lost, I knew that there was no way the next hour was going to be easy for me. If Emily could crack even the slightest bit, I was going to break into a million different pieces.

Emily held the door open behind her in order to usher me in, but I took a moment to just stay frozen in place while losing all feeling in my hand because of how tight Hotch’s grip was. I felt sick already and I hadn’t even sat down inside yet— hell, I hadn’t even seen the damn room yet. How was I supposed to go in there on my own for an hour when Hotch and I hadn’t been apart for more than two minutes since it happened? How was I supposed to survive the next hour without him there to comfort me and tell me that it was going to be alright. I knew that I was supposed to be the strong one right now. I knew that he needed me to step up and be the brave one because he couldn’t do it for once— and no one blamed him. Not a single person who knew him the way we all did blamed him for what happened or how he reacted. But when was I supposed to finally break? When was it alright for me to fall apart in his arms and have him tell me that it would be alright?

“You should go,” Hotch croaked.

I shook my head. “I can’t move.”

Hotch let go of my hand and I sucked in a breath. Honestly, I would have rathered he continued to break my hand if it meant he just continued to touch me. Not feeling him anymore made me feel like I was drowning in my nerves. In the next instant, though, he turned and put his hands on my shoulders so that I would face him and look at him. I stared into his brown eyes for a minute, finding peace in how they seemed so dark and endless. Even with a black eye, a broken nose, and scratches everywhere, he was still handsome. His eyes, the way they stared right into mine, and his hands, the way they squeezed my shoulders just right, it all brought me back to Earth and grounded me.

“I’ll be right here when you’re done. It’ll be okay.”

My heart ached in my chest. Nothing felt okay. It didn’t feel like it would ever be okay again. But I trusted Hotch, and I knew that I could believe him about this, too. If he thought that things were going to be okay, even when his whole world was falling apart, then there had to be some truth to it. So, I nodded shortly, bowing my head so that I could collect my thoughts and whatever bravery was hiding deep inside of me so that I could make the first step towards the door that Emily was still politely holding open for me.

Hotch leaned in and kissed my forehead gently before releasing me. I made my move towards the door, and Emily tried shooting me a small, reassuring smile. Even though she was trying to help, it somehow only made me feel worse. I was just too worried to appreciate how she was trying to be supportive. She was a good friend, and she had been by my side when it happened, but even her kindness couldn’t distract me from the misery that was waiting behind that door.

When I stepped into the conference room, I saw Strauss sitting at the table, her back towards me. Her head was down as she wrote some notes down in a file she had in front of her. When she heard me coming in, she glanced over her shoulder to take notice that it was me, but she didn’t smile invitingly. She gestured to the seat across from her as she sat forward again. I sucked in a deep, quiet breath as I walked around the table and took the seat that had seemingly been assigned for me.

“Well, this all feels awfully familiar,” she said to herself while adjusting her glasses on her nose. I asked myself how on Earth she could make a joke about the time she wrongfully suspended me when what just happened was absolutely horrendous. “I’ll be recording this interview for the council, if you don’t mind. It was the only way I could convince them to allow me to do this in-house with everyone on your team except for Agent Hotchner.” I shrugged. Strauss took that as a sufficient answer, so she reached out for the tape recorder between us and started it. As she settled in her seat once more, she began the interview with, “Please state your name and rank for the record.”

I shifted around uncomfortably, my sweaty hands fidgeting with the hem of my pencil skirt under the table. “Y/N Greenaway, Special Agent for the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit in Quantico, Virginia.”

How I managed to get through all of that without stuttering or throwing up everywhere, I wasn’t sure. I just wished that there were a way for Hotch to be there with me. I didn’t want to relive what happened that day, but I especially didn’t want to do it without someone— anyone— by my side. Hell, I would have even taken up the idea of being there with Rossi, if that was what it would take.

“And, how long have you been a member of the BAU?” she inquired.

“Just under two years, ma’am.”

“And you have worked under Agent Hotchner this entire time?”

Well, that was one way to phrase it, Thank you, Chief Strauss. But I shook my head regardless of the pun that was spinning through my mind. “No, ma’am, I currently report to Agent Morgan.”

“Because Agent Hotchner’s ability to lead this unit had been compromised?”

“No, ma’am. Agent Hotchner has always been able to lead our unit, and he’s very good at it. He stepped down from the position temporarily because of the injuries he suffered at the hands of George Foyet a few months ago. He is planning on returning to his position as the unit chief once he’s feeling better.”

Strauss bit the inside of her cheek. That wasn’t the answer she was hoping to hear since she was looking for every reason to finally bury Hotch’s career now, but there was no way in hell that I was going to play her little game. Just like when she tried to get rid of both of us with our original suspensions awhile ago, I wasn’t going to play nice now. Not when Hotch couldn’t afford to lose his job now, too.

“How long have you been involved with Agent Hotchner?”

“What does it matter?”

“Just answer the question, Agent Greenaway.”

My gaze hardened as I stared at her, a challenge that said: “This is stupid.” But she didn’t relent. Her question still stood, and she was waiting for an answer. If I didn’t respond, and the committee heard that I was dodging a question about my relationship with my boss, that would raise more questions than we needed. So, I gave in.

“Just under two years, ma’am. Agent Hotchner and I got involved with one another a month into my promotion into the BAU.”

“So, you were not involved beforehand?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Your promotion into the unit had nothing to do with any kind of favoritism?”

I stared at her blankly. What kind of fucking question was that? No, I didn’t fucking get promoted because Hotch liked me. Yeah, we both secretly admired one another for years, but I didn’t know that until after I joined the BAU. Hotch told me that him and Gideon decided to hire me because of my skills. It had nothing to do with anything personal. For her to insinuate otherwise was distasteful.

I bit my tongue and answered through gritted teeth, “No, ma’am. Like I said, we got involved after my promotion.” I released my tongue. “Pardon me, ma’am, but what does this have to do with what happened?”

“Agent Greenaway, the faster you stick to just answering my questions, the sooner you can go home. The more pushback you give me, the longer this will take. So, just… answer to the best of your ability.”

I bit my tongue again, this time to hold back every curse word imaginable. If I could have, I would have leapt across the table and strangled her then and there. But with a, “Yes, ma’am,” I obeyed reluctantly.

“Good.” She looked back down at her sheet of questions. “How would you describe Agent Hotchner’s behavior in and out of work?”

“With all due respect, ma’am, this isn’t about what happens behind closed doors. This isn’t about what happens after work. This isn’t about mine and Agent Hotchner’s private life. Therefore, I will not be disclosing any information about his behavior outside of work. As for at work, he is very driven— especially since George Foyet first attacked him in our home.”

“How long has Agent Hotchner been investigating George Foyet?”

“To my knowledge, Agent Hotchner was originally introduced to The Reaper case when George Foyet first started killing in the 90’s. Agent Hotchner was promoted to lead profiler for the case, but the trail went cold, and he didn’t revisit the case until George Foyet started killing again about three months ago.” My hands pulled at the bottom of my skirt as I thought about what I was going to say next. Like I said before, I didn’t want to have to relive all of this, but there we were… I had no say in the matter. “We restarted the investigation again after Karl Arnold revealed to us that George Foyet was his secret admirer.”

“Why did you stop the investigation three months ago?”

“Because we had placed George Foyet in custody after finally catching him. By the time we learned of his escape from prison, he was long gone, and we were already home. We had other cases, and there were no new leads. We couldn’t do anything until we heard from him again or decided to kill again. So, when he reached out to us through Arnold, we restarted the investigation.”

Strauss put down her pen, took off her glasses, and looked away from her questions so that she could look me right in the eye. “I’d like to hear your side of the story. What happened that day as you remember it? Keep in mind, everyone is telling us their story, so if you lie in order to protect Agent Hotchner, it could possibly result in your immediate job termination.”

This was the dreaded moment. There were no more questions, unless Strauss needed me to clarify something. All there was left to do was give every single detail, no matter how painful. The worst part about it, though, was that I couldn’t break. No matter how bad it got, I couldn’t let Strauss, of all people, see me crumble. She had been working since we first met towards getting rid of me, and if she thought that I was “too emotionally vulnerable for the position”, she would have me gone in a heartbeat.

I reached forward slightly and grabbed an empty glass and the jug of water beside it. With a shaky hand, I nervously poured myself a full cup. “Aaron and I—” I stopped myself. Just keep it together. Please. Don’t fuck this up so soon. “Agent Hotchner and I had been staying in a safe house because we were afraid that Foyet was stalking us. We didn’t think that it was safe to go home anymore, so we left and didn’t tell anyone where we were going— even the unit had no clue we moved. We still came to work, though, in case Foyet was still watching. We wanted to give the impression that everything was alright while we started looking for him again. On Thursday,” I shivered as I thought about how that day started so innocent but ended with a trip down to Hell. “On Thursday, Agent Jareau came into work to tell us that she realized something about Foyet’s medication. We had been trying to track him through all of the medications he needed to take as a result of stabbing himself back in the 90’s in order to escape police detection. Agent Hotchner had been prescribed all of the same medicines after his stabbing, so we knew what we were supposed to be looking for, the only trouble was, no one seemed to be buying what was needed, which meant that Foyet was a ghost in the wind. Agent Jareau realized that he was taking certain over the counter medications that replicated the effects of what he needed to actually help him. So, we started looking for purchases around the area that matched, and for the medications that he couldn’t replace.”

Hotch and JJ stormed into the boardroom as Morgan, Emily, Reid, and I kept searching through every red flagged receipt in the state. Reid was going faster than the rest of us, of course, but we really didn’t know what we were even looking for. We knew that Foyet needed to bulk up on all of these seemingly random over the counter medications, but so did half of Virginia, apparently. Despite the fact that Hotch, JJ, and Garcia managed to narrow down our search to a list of different pills, it didn’t help that most of them listed were popular brands, like Claritin, Motrin, TUMS, etc. Anyone with a sick kid or grandparent was stocking up on these pills, too. We needed to narrow it down again somehow if we were going to find Foyet soon.

When they came storming in, though, they seemed to have good news. Finally. They had the name of the medications that couldn’t be replicated or substituted. Tapazole, which helped treat hyperthyroidism— a disease which caused extreme weight loss as a leading symptom. It was the only one out of all of Foyet’s medication that he couldn’t get anywhere else. That was how we were going to find him. We narrowed it down further, just like we wanted, but we still needed to get more specific. There were thousands of people in the state of Virginia who took Tapazole, and Foyet was likely using an alias. If we were going to find him fast before he could move on, we needed to fine down our geographic profile.

Foyet was last seen in Fairfax County, where Hotch and I lived. That was the day he stabbed Hotch and drove him to the hospital. The last time we heard from Foyet, however, came down to the letters he sent to Karl Arnold in prison. Each letter was sent from a different city: Westminster and Fredericksburg. So, we had three locations, which meant that we could triangulate, but that meant fuck all when Foyet’s profile stated that he liked to move around a lot when he knew he was being hunted. Even if we could possibly search the epicenter of the three cities, he was probably long gone. We needed something more.

“The center,” Morgan pointed to the map on the wall, “it’s D.C., not Virginia. Why?”

“Because he’s staying close to Hotch,” Emily assumed. “He liked watching Shaunessy deteriorate because of his guilt. Now he wants to see Hotch fall apart without his fam—” Emily stopped herself when she realized what she was saying. She had just been doing her job, profiling the Unsub, looking at the M.O., narrowing down the victimology; but she crossed a line accidentally, and she immediately regretted it. “I’m sorry,” she told Hotch quietly.

He shook his head and shrugged. “I know he’s been watching us. That’s why Y/N and I moved to a safe house and I stepped down as unit chief. I wanted him to think that he was winning.”

Morgan and I glanced at each other. Neither of us knew that. Hotch told me it was for his health and because I was worried sick about him. I didn’t think for a moment that there was a larger game at play. It still didn’t matter, though. Even if Foyet really was still watching us, and Hotch wanted that, he could be long gone already.

“Eureka!” Garcia cheered as she came running in with her computer, just on time. “The goddess and her boy toy do it again!” She set her computer down on the red table and took a seat. “I narrowed the list down to 153 names.”

“That’s still a lot of people,” I said, crossing my arms. I knew that she was doing her best, and she had just broken through a huge wall for us, but we were racing against time now. 153 names was too many. There had to be a way to find Foyet on that list.

“Garcia,” Hotch said, turning to face her, “look to see if he used the name of one of his victims as his alias.”

Garcia typed away at her computer. “Nothing.”

“What about one of the cops who worked at the precinct during his arrest?”

“Nothing.”

“What about an anagram?” Spencer offered, pushing himself to his feet, using his cane to do all the work. He limped his way over to the glass board and started writing out George Foyet’s name. We all watched as he mumbled to himself, underlining certain letters, crossing out others, rearranging a few here and there. “That’s not right,” he groaned as he erased all of his work. He then started over, using The Reaper as his base. “This goes here, that goes there, this crosses out, that goes away—” And then he got it. By some miracle, that brilliant mind of his found it. “Peter Rhea.”

“You, Dr. Reid, deserve more credit,” Garcia complimented as she typed away again. “There’s a Peter Rhea in Arlington.”

We immediately set out to head to Peter Rhea’s apartment. Morgan hurried to his office to call in a SWAT, and the second he was off the phone, our team was racing to get into the cars. Hotch drove me, Morgan, and Emily, while Rossi drove JJ and Spencer in the other car. We sped through the cities with the lights and sirens on until we reached the block over from the apartment. We split up and parked on opposite ends of the road, staying hidden around a corner and under a tree.

Morgan ordered us to stay in the cars while the SWAT team set up a surveillance system to see if Foyet was inside. He wanted to play this safe and smart since he was still getting a lot of heat from Strauss and the Director while being the new unit chief. We couldn’t go storming into some random guy’s apartment without probable cause, we all knew that, but if the call were up to Hotch, we would have already been knocking at the door. Morgan, on the other hand, wanted to wait and see if Foyet would do anything while the SWAT team got in place.

“Is he ready?” Morgan asked into his comm.

The plan was that they were going to send in an agent undercover as a plumber to see if they could get someone to open up the door. If Foyet opened the door, we could go in and continue with making the arrest. If Foyet didn’t open up, the agent was going to use a micro-wire camera to peek under the door to see if there was anything suspicious enough to give us the reasonable cause we were looking for.

I looked out the window to see the agent walking across the street with his toolbox in hand. He walked casually into the building, which was when we lost sight of him. All there was to do now was wait to hear if we could move in or see if he would connect the camera’s live feed to our tablet in the car. So, we watched as he made his way up to the apartment we suspected that Foyet was in. Still, without cause, we had to wait. But we were all getting anxious, understandably.

He first knocked on the door, waiting to see if there was a response. If Foyet opened the door, we were going to make our move. If someone besides Foyet opened the door, we would have to wait to see if there was anything incriminating of if we just got the wrong place. If no one would open up, then we’d have to use the camera. A minute passed. No one answered, even when he tried knocking again, so Morgan gave the go ahead to use the camera.

The camera snuck under the door, and we watched on the tablet in Morgan’s lap. My heart was racing in my chest. My hope was that the son of a bitch was cowering inside, making it easy for us to capture him. This time, we weren’t going to give him a chance to escape. This time, he wasn’t going to hurt Hotch.

“Morgan, look,” I pressed the tip of my index finger against the screen. “There’s unfinished food next to that laptop. The food, the unopened mail, the clean apartment. This has to be his place, and he left in a hurry.”

“He’s not fucking there?” Hotch inquired angrily.

“Move in!” Morgan demanded into his comm. The team jumped out of the cars we arrived in, all of us unholstering our weapons as we closed the doors. The SWAT team was already moving across the street in formation.

We stormed the building, racing up the staircase together in a single file line since running was faster than waiting for the elevator. When we arrived on Foyet’s floor, Morgan led the way down the hallway, and slowed to a stop in front of the apartment. Morgan kicked the door down before running in first. Emily, Rossi, and Hotch were all right behind him, with me and JJ keeping watch in the hallway. The SWAT team was still clearing the rest of the building, and it would take a while to meet us all the way at the top floor, so we needed to search the place as fast as possible.

Morgan and I moved into the bedroom on the left while the team looked around the main room. There was a half-packed suitcase on the bed, clothes everywhere, and a safe hidden in the open closet with a stash of guns inside. He hadn’t even bothered to lock up the guns when he left, which meant that he knew he wasn’t coming back. Foyet knew we were coming, and he ran. Shit.

I lowered my weapon as I let out an angry sigh. We wasted so much time just sitting in the car. I loved and respected Morgan, and I knew that I trusted him with my life out in the field, but he made the wrong call by telling us to wait in the car. If we had gotten into the place sooner, we would have already seen this and been tracking Foyet to his next location. Now we were too far behind.

“What’s going on out here?” Morgan asked, stepping back into the main room.

The team was huddled around the computer that Foyet left, watching nervously as something beeped on the screen. I followed Morgan and leaned on my tiptoes to see the computer over everyone’s shoulders. Foyet brought what he needed to D.C., and he only took what he needed when he left this apartment in a hurry. Everything else was evidence for us, he knew that. Since he knew we were coming, he had a safety system in place to make sure we wouldn’t get our hands on anything valuable, which included the contents of his laptop. The team looked nervous because whatever was on there, it was being deleted by a program he created.

JJ was already calling Garcia to see if she could stop it and save everything that was already gone. Like the goddess she was, Garcia already hacked into the computer by the time Morgan and I were aware that this was happening. She managed to stop the program that was deleting everything just as I leaned back on my feet and stepped towards Hotch’s side to get a better look at the screen.

Hotch had his hands clasped together in front of him, his fingers picking at his cuticles nervously. He was upset that Foyet wasn’t there, that he had escaped us again, and that we still didn’t have our family back yet. We had hoped that this lead would end with Foyet in handcuffs again, and Hotch would immediately get to call Sam to tell him that Haley and Jack could come home. Both of us had hoped that this lead would have ended with us holding Jack in our arms by diner time, but the world wasn’t kind to us like that. Foyet had escaped us countless times before, and this was just another one of those cases.

“Garcia, wait—” Morgan insisted. I looked back over at the computer to see that Garcia had paused her new program which was retrieving everything Foyet already deleted. She had been running through hundreds of different pictures, just trying to collect them all, but something caught Morgan’s eye. “Hotch, isn’t that—”

Hotch grabbed his phone from his pocket and flipped it open. “Yeah, that’s the U.S. Marshal assigned to my family.”

My heart sank in my chest as Garcia continued running the program. Foyet had hundreds— if not thousands of photos of Sam. This whole time, Hotch and I had been worried that Foyet was following us in the hopes of getting to Haley and Jack, but he was really trying to get to them through Sam, the only one who knew where they were. Sam had probably visited them on multiple occasions to make sure they were doing okay, since that was the unofficial deal he made with Hotch. Every time Sam went to visit them, Foyet was there. He knew where they were. He knew how to get to them— via Sam.

“He’s not picking up,” Hotch informed us before trying Sam’s number again, this time to leave a message. “Sam, it’s Aaron. We found Foyet’s apartment, but he has surveillance of you. He might know where they are. I need you to call me for a meet location, or we’re on our way to you.”

Morgan pulled his phone out, too. “We need another SWAT team at Sam’s place.”

“That’ll take at least thirty minutes,” I said.

“It’s the best chance we got.”

“Aaron!” I called after him while he stormed out of the apartment. I looked to Morgan for his next orders. “We need to go to Sam’s house. Now.”

Morgan nodded, “Go. Reid will stay here with SWAT, the rest of us will catch up.”

I didn’t spend another second in that apartment. In an instant, I was on my toes, chasing after Hotch, jumping down the steps of the apartment building, trying to meet him at the car before he could drive off. As I pushed through the front doors in the lobby, I saw Hotch getting into the driver’s seat of the closest car we brought. Hotch spotted me running across the road as he started up the car. He waited until I was in the car to go, the door barely even closed yet, my seatbelt not on.

Hotch was driving like a mad man. He was taking the turns too fast, he was weaving around cars, he was racing through intersections without looking to see if it was safe. I genuinely feared that we were going to die before we could even get to Sam’s house. What help would we be then? Hotch could afford to at least slow down a bit, right?

I grabbed the handle on the ceiling as we took another sharp turn a little too fast. Hotch tried to regain control of the car as he straightened out the steering wheel before the car would overturn. I sighed with relief quietly when we didn’t die, then kept driving towards Sam’s neighborhood.

When we arrived at Sam’s house, Hotch drove straight up onto the curb and jumped out once the car was in park, but didn’t wait to turn off the car. I followed suit, both of us grabbing our guns as we ran up the sidewalk in the middle of the front yard. My eyes grew wide as I silently took notice of the unlocked front door that was half open. Hotch noticed, too, but nothing needed to be said about it. The plan was to do what we always did. Go in together, clear the house, find Sam. Most importantly, just pray that Sam was okay.

Hotch looked over at me. “You got me?” he whispered.

I nodded.

He faced the door and took in a deep breath before pushing it open and running in. I followed closely. Both of our weapons were raised, our fingers on the triggers. We hurried inside to search the place for any sign of Sam. Hotch checked the left side of the living room, while I went to the right. The backdoor was open, just as the front door had been.

I immediately holstered my weapon as I walked around the couch in the middle of the room to find Sam laying on the floor, bleeding out. I called Hotch’s name and he came rushing over. We both fell to our knees beside him and I started to put pressure on his wounds. Sam had been shot in the chest twice, each leg once, and in the foot a single time. I started by pressing down on his chest, and Hotch helped by holding the thigh wounds.

“Medic!” Hotch yelled to the approaching ambulance outside. “Medic, please!”

Sam groaned and opened his swollen eyes as far as he could. Foyet had beaten up his face and cut off three fingers. “I’m sorry, Hotch…” he croaked before coughing up some blood.

Hotch leaned over him to make sure they could make eye contact. “It’s alright, Sam. It’s alright. You need to tell me if he knows where Jack and Haley are.” He was being so calm. Oddly calm.

“I didn’t… I couldn’t… I’m sorry…”

“Sam, look at me,” Hotch begged. “Does he know where Haley and Jack are? What’s her phone number or address?”

“It won’t matter…”

“What does that mean?” I questioned.

“It won’t matter…” he repeated, his eyes falling shut.

I looked up at Hotch. “It’s the shock.”

I recognized his inability to speak because of how similar it was to how Hotch was after the car bombing in New York. Hotch couldn’t form complete sentences, and he always kept repeating the same thing over and over, even when I would try to ask him questions. Sam was the same way, and I couldn’t blame him. Foyet had really done a number on him. He was bleeding out fast, and I prayed that the medics would arrive soon.

“Sam, please, just tell me if he knows where our family is,” Hotch said, still calm and collected as I had ever seen him.

Sam’s eyes fluttered open for a moment, but fell shut again. He was losing consciousness. There was no way he would be able to tell us anything about where Foyet went or how to find Haley and Jack. Even if he got to the hospital before bleeding out, there was no telling when he would wake up in order to tell us where Haley and Jack were. We needed answers now, but the only person who could give them to us was unable to say anything at all.

A pair of hands grabbed my shoulders. Morgan pulled me onto my feet and out of the way as the EMTs hurried into the house with a medical bag and a stretcher. I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth to cover the worry and shock that was certainly plastered to my face. Morgan noticed my bloody hands, so he grabbed a wipe or handkerchief of some kind from his pocket. He took my hands in his while I still stared down at Sam and the medics doing everything they could to help him. I felt Morgan wipe the blood off my hands, and I could vaguely hear him talking to me, but I didn’t say anything or even more. Sam was our last chance. He was our last link. He knew where they were, and now Foyet knew.

Hotch looked as solid as a rock, not reacting a single bit. He just calmly stood and moved to the side while we all watched the EMTs get to work. They started by covering up the bullet wounds, then rolling him onto a stretcher, and as they wheeled him out, they stuck an IV in his arm. Hotch was right next to the stretcher as they rolled Sam out of the house, onto the sidewalk, and up to the ambulance waiting in the road. Morgan and I were a few steps behind, watching as the EMTs lifted Sam into the back of the vehicle. I noticed that Hotch wasn’t waiting back with us, though. No, he was all the way up there with them—

“Aaron!” I yelled, running towards the ambulance.

He was climbing in with the EMTs and was already working on closing the door when he heard me. He stopped for a fleeting moment. “Stay here! I love you!” Then he closed the door.

The ambulance immediately sped off the second the door was shut. Sirens shook the neighborhood, and the lights nearly blinded me as my eyes fogged over. I felt sick and confused again, just like I had at the hospital in New York. I tried to close my eyes, swallow hard to keep myself from vomiting, and focus on finding Jack alive. Hotch left to talk with Sam in the ambulance. That was a good move. It was the right move. But not knowing what was going on and not being able to do anything made the panic that had been building in my chest since New York come flooding back into my mind, heart, and lungs.

My ears started ringing just as my heart rate sped up and my lungs started to give out. I cursed under my breath as I hid my face in my hands and sat down before I could pass out and likely hit my head on the concrete. I tried to focus on Jack and our favorite dinosaur that was sitting at home, waiting for him to come back and play with it. I tried to not think about the bile rising in my closing throat or the way my whole body was shaking like I was standing in the middle of a world ending type of earthquake.

I gasped for breath and laid on my back, the sun’s light casting through my eyelids. It was so nice and warm out. It didn’t feel like the kind of day that was meant for this. But, then again, when was it ever the right kind of day for something like this?

“Morgan...” I croaked. “Morgan, it’s happening again.”

I could feel him crouching down beside me, putting one hand on my hair and one on my shoulder. As he tried to talk to me, it just sounded like he was screaming at me from underwater. Everything was so muffled, and nothing made sense. The ringing in my ears returned two-fold this time and I winced. Trying to balance everything— my breathing, my heart rate, my ears, my sick stomach, the shaking, the blurry sight, and the racing thoughts— all at once was too overwhelming for me. This didn’t feel like New York. It felt ten times worse than that.

“Call Hotch!” I heard Morgan yell. That was the only clear thing to me. “Call him now!”

In a few moments following that, I felt a phone press against my ear. “Y/N?” It was Hotch. He was still in the ambulance. “Y/N? Are you there?”

“I’m here…” I whispered, opening my eyes. The feeling of needing to vomit was slowly subsiding. “Has Sam said anything?”

“That doesn’t matter right now. Just talk to me.”

I sucked in a deep breath, held it, and slowly let it out— just like the doctor in New York taught me. Slow and easy breaths. “Did he tell you where to find Jack and Haley?”

“No.” He was holding something back, I could tell.

“Foyet?”

“Took Sam’s phone, called Haley, and impersonated a U.S. Marshal.”

I pushed myself upright and took the phone from Morgan. Deep breath in, hold it, then let it out. The ringing in my ears was gone and I could hear everything around me again. “Did she tell him where they are?”

“No. She’s meeting him somewhere.”

“Do you know where?”

“Y/N, stop it. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I insisted, standing up. Morgan held his arms out like he was ready to catch me at any second. “Tell me everything Sam said. Please.”

Hotch sighed on the other end of the call, likely debating if he should tell me or hold his tongue. Someone must have told him what happened, which was why he wasn’t telling me anything, and he was avoiding talking about Foyet in order to get me talking. I promised him ever since New York that this wouldn’t happen again, and just when it finally does, he was too far away to help me.

“He told her that she was compromised and that we’re dead,” he answered. “He told her to throw away her phone and buy a disposable.”

“That son of a bitch…” I mumbled under my breath.

I gave Morgan a worried look and he called the team over. I took the phone away from my ear and put the call on speaker. My shaking was nearly gone. I felt like a million bucks again. Funny how those things work sometimes, right? Or maybe it was just that I had suppressed it all again and I was another ticking time bomb. Honestly, if that were the case, I was just hoping that I’d wait to blow up again until after we found Jack and Haley safe and alive.

“Foyet posed as a Marshal and called Haley from Sam’s phone,” I caught the team up to speed.

Emily was cocking a brow at me like she didn’t understand how I could go from laying on the sidewalk while hyperventilating to standing upright and talking about the case without any hesitancy. I tried to avoid eye contact with her so as to not be alarmed by her worry for me.

“He still has the phone,” Hotch continued explaining for me. “He scared Haley into thinking that she’s alone and in danger. She trusts him now because the call came from a number she knew and he gave her the promise of safety. We have to find him.”

JJ pulled out her phone, “Garcia, we need you to locate Sam Kassmeyer’s phone ASAP.” She stayed on the line as Garcia worked. “Fairfax County,” she repeated for us.

“Send the approximate coordinates to my phone,” Hotch demanded before hanging up.

“Wait—” Emily tried to catch him, but he was already gone. “Garcia, is that phone still on?”

JJ, with the phone still pressed to her ear, nodded to Emily.

“It’s a trap,” Emily said.

“Emily, call the U.S. Marshals. See if they can reach Haley,” Morgan ordered as we all headed back to the cars. “It’ll be a tight fit.”

Emily, Rossi, and JJ made it work, though, as the three of them squished hip to hip in the back seat. Emily was already on the phone with the U.S. Marshal Service while JJ was still listening to Garcia as she tried to get more information about Foyer and Hotch. Emily sighed, hanging up the call she was on after having a back to back conversation while Morgan started speeding out of the neighborhood.

“Haley’s gone. They don’t know where she is,” Emily informed us.

“Guys,” JJ said, putting her call with Garcia on speaker. “Hotch is calling Sam’s phone.”

“Foyet has it, though—” I said before realizing what that meant. “Garcia, can you connect us to it?”

“Already done,” Garcia said.

“Agent Hotchner,” Foyet welcomed with a bright voice. “How are you?”

“If you touch them, I swear to—”

“What? Do you want me to be gentle, like I was with you?”

My blood ran cold. Morgan glanced over at me to read my face before turning back to watch the road. Hotch and told me what Foyet did to him, but there were obviously some details he refused to tell me, like how he was tortured. As far as I was aware, Foyet had broken into our house, stabbed Hotch a series of times after they had a fight, and then he dropped Hotch off at the hospital. He didn’t tell me anything about Foyet taking his time to torture him, though, I guessed I should have known that the Reaper wasn’t just going to let Aaron Hotchner get off that easily.

“What took you so long?” Foyet chuckled. “I was beginning to think this piece of shit phone was dead or something.” There was silence on the call for a moment. “Why are you so quiet, Aaron? You usually lash out when you’re frustrated. Remember what happened when I mentioned dear old Y/N that night? You threw a goddamn glass bottle at my head. Where’s the fight, Aaron?”

“I’m not frustrated. You’re just predictable.”

“Is that so?”

“You didn’t know where Haley was, so you tricked her into coming to you. That’s not like you either, George. Where’s the creativity?” He was pushing back against Foyet to prove that he wasn’t going to be rattled.

“You make me sound lazy, Aaron.”

“No. I just know you’re smarter than this. I mean, you did kill your parents when you were nine—”

“—They died in a car crash—”

“—That you caused and couldn’t take credit for. Is that your biggest regret? Hmm? Not being able to brag about your greatest accomplishment?”

“That’s not my greatest accomplishment,” Foyet snickered.

“No? Then what is? Getting away with all of the people you murdered in cold blood?”

“Have you stopped to ask yourself that perhaps my greatest accomplishment has yet to come? In fact, I’m staring at it right now. She’s gorgeous, Aaron. I get why you married her. But I think blonde suited her better than the brunette look. Oh— and here comes the little man! Look at how big he is now! Wow. You know, Aaron, I actually admire one thing about you. Do you care to know what it is?” Hotch didn’t say anything still, so Foyet continued. “Most couples, when they get a divorce and there’s a kid involved, they fight for custody, but not you and Haley. You two managed to work it out in a way that made you both happy. She got him nearly all the time, and you got to see him when you and your whore weren’t away.” He tsked his tongue, “Aw. Look at his little superhero t-shirt. Adorable.”

I wiped the sweat from my forehead and gestured for Morgan to go faster.

“Hey, you know what, that reminds me…” Foyet groaned like he was stretching. “When I called Haley earlier and told her that you and Y/N were dead, she said that Jack wanted me to grab a toy dinosaur from your place— mentioned something about how it’s Jack’s favorite toy and he can’t bear to move away again without it. I hope you don’t mind, but I went by your guys’ place and grabbed it for him.”

A whimper left my throat as I failed to choke back a sob. Our favorite dinosaur… The one Jack gave me before leaving. The one I had been thinking about earlier to help calm me down. Foyet went back to our house just to grab it. It was going to be the last thing Jack would see.

Rossi reached between mine and Morgan’s front seats and grabbed my shoulder to comfort me. I put my hand over his after wiping away a tear from my cheek.

Another phone on Foyet’s end of the call started ringing. “Oh, that’ll be Haley. Hold, please, while I turn you off speaker and answer her call,” Foyet said. We heard the beep of him picking up the other call and putting it on speaker for us to listen. “Mrs. Hotchner, are you safe?”

“Yes. I’m here,” Haley said.

I squeezed Rossi’s hand.

“Good. Just open the gate and I’ll drive in,” Foyet said to her.

“Okay. Thanks.” She hung up the phone as fast as she could.

“Aaron, you still there?” Foyet asked. “Listen, I gotta go. I’ll say goodbye to the little man for ya.”

“You motherfuc—” Hotch began, but the call ended.

“Garcia?” JJ asked into her phone.

“I couldn’t get an address,” she whispered in defeat. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

“Wait…” I said, letting go of Rossi’s hand. “Wait, wait, wait. Garcia, Sam’s phone is government issued, which means that they can falsify the call’s location. Is it possible that he’s not even in the middle of Fairfax?”

“It’s possible, I suppose, but the signal was bouncing from three towers around that county. He could be anywhere inside it or just outside of it.”

Hotch and I lived just outside of Fairfax County. He hadn’t moved out after Haley left him, and we certainly didn’t move when I moved in with him. We wanted Jack to have some normalcy in his life, so staying in his childhood home was the best choice. There was a gate in order to get into the neighborhood. Foyet mentioned that Haley needed to open a gate.

We were speeding down the highway towards the North side of Fairfax County, but Hotch and I lived East of the county, just barely outside of the county line. Hotch was already close by to the house after leaving the hospital, but we were at least fifteen minutes away. We wouldn’t get there in time, but Hotch could.

I scrambled for my phone and dialed Hotch’s number again and he answered. “Hotch, he’s at the house! He told Haley to meet him at our house!”

Foyet had tried to throw us off by mentioning the dinosaur, making us believe that he broke into our house in order to give Jack the toy at a separate location; when, in reality, Jack was already at the house and probably already found the dinosaur sitting prominently on the table by the front door.

“I know, Y/N. I know.”

Morgan made an abrupt U-turn, and we started speeding back towards South-East to meet Hotch at the house.

“Y/N?” he asked quietly on the other end. I hummed a tune that asked: “What?” and he followed with, “I love you.”

“Hotch, why are you—”

“If something happens… I love you.”

“Aaron, stop it,” I begged, shaking my head.

It sounded like he was saying goodbye, and it was scaring me. Why did he think that something was going to happen? Nothing was going to happen. Nothing. He was going to be fine. He was going to get there before Foyet could lay a finger on Haley or Jack. Everything was going to be alright.

“Please say it back. Please.”

“Aaron—”

“Please.”

I took in a deep breath and blinked away the tears that were welling in my eyes. “I love you, Aaron.”

“Guys, Foyet’s calling Hotch again,” Garcia informed us.

“I love you,” we both repeated to each other one last time before he hung up and answered Foyet’s call.

Garcia connected us again so that we could listen.

“Aaron?” Haley asked into their new call. “You’re okay?”

There was a beat of silence.

“I’m fine,” he responded.

“But… He said that…” Haley gasped quietly. “Oh…”

“He can hear us, can’t he?”

“Yes. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Haley, don’t show him any weakness, alright? He feeds off of it.”

“Oh, come on, Aaron,” Foyet groaned out of annoyance. “Chop, chop, tell your wife what this is really all about. Come on. Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Aaron?” Haley questioned, pressing him for answers.

“Don’t listen to him,” Hotch begged, “he’s just trying to scare you.”

“Well, she should be scared, Aaron! She gonna D-I-E because you refused to listen to me!”

I looked at Morgan for any kind of consolation. He looked back at me with pressed in eyebrows and sad eyes. “We’re at least twelve minutes away,” he told me quietly.

“Ignore him, Haley!” Hotch yelled.

“Since he won’t tell you,” Foyet sighed, “I guess I will. All he had to do to save you and your son was stop looking for me.”

Haley sniffled, “Aaron, what is he talking about?”

Hotch was quiet for a long moment.

I wondered what he was going to say. Was he going to tell Haley the truth? That George Foyet had told Hotch that he would stop killing if we just stopped chasing after him— if we just put the case away until he would eventually die, then this whole mess wouldn’t be happening. Foyet proposed the deal that night in the hotel room, and Hotch practically told him to go fuck himself. It made sense why Foyet wasn’t exactly happy, and was thus trying to take it out on our family. The psychology of it made sense, but I just wanted this nightmare to end. We couldn’t go back in time and tell Foyet that we would agree to his terms, and Foyet knew it. He knew that this was Hotch’s fault, and he wanted everyone to know it. He wanted Hotch to know it most of all.

“Tell Jack I need him to work the case,” Hotch cried into the phone.

My face fell into my hands as I couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. Hotch had tried so hard all day to stay strong for himself, for me, for the team, and for Jack and Haley. He hadn’t broken once, even when I was a wreck. But Foyet had Haley and Jack. He had our son and there was nothing we could do. We were all helpless. But there was one thing Hotch could tell Jack to do that could save his life. One simple request that seemed so innocent to Foyet and everyone else— but Jack, Hotch, and I knew the truth. Telling Jack to go work the case was the last thing we could possibly do to save him. If that didn’t work, it was over. Foyet would kill both of them and we would lose.

“Hi, Daddy,” Jack said into the phone.

I let out a sob. Morgan and Rossi both put a comforting hand on me, but it didn’t matter. Nothing was going to help me. Jack sounded so happy, so oblivious to what was going on. And as I hid my face in my hands, I couldn’t help but see images of him lying dead on our carpet. We were going to find him like that… Our baby Jack.

“Hi, buddy,” Hotch sniffled.

“Is Y/N with you?”

“No… They’re coming, though. We’re both trying to get home to you as fast as we can.”

“Is George a bad guy?”

“Yes… Yes, he is, Jack. Listen, buddy, I need you on this case with me. Do you understand? I need you to go work on your superhero homework because Y/N and I need your help with this case. Does that sound good, kiddo?”

“Okay, Daddy.”

“Now give your mom a Superman hug, Jack.”

There was silence on both ends of the call for a minute, then I could hear Haley whispering to Jack that she loved him more than anything in the world and he complained that she was hugging him too tight. She apologized to him through a half sob.

“Why are you sad, mommy?” Jack questioned.

“Oh… I just love you so much,” Haley answered as bravely as she could. “Now go work the case for your dad, alright?” Jack hummed an agreement, then I could hear his little feet running off.

“I’ll be right up, Jackie boy!” Foyet called after him.

“Is he gone?” Hotch asked.

“Yes,” Haley cried.

“You’re so strong, Haley. You’re stronger than I ever was. You’re going to be alright. I’m so close. I promise.”

“Aaron…” she whispered into the phone. I could finally hear up close just how scared she was. Her voice sputtered, she was whimpering quietly, and her breath kept hitching as she tried to not sob.

“I know you didn’t sign on for this. I’m so sorry for everything, Haley. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Aaron,” she repeated like she was trying to tell him something important. He stayed quiet to listen. “Promise me that you’ll tell Jack how we met and how you used to make me laugh… He deserves to know that we were happy at one point. Promise me that. Please…”

“I promise…” he whispered in defeat. “I promise, Haley. I love you. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Haley… I promise…”

And then there were three gunshots.

I shook and cried, Rossi’s grip tightened around my shoulder, and Morgan picked up my hand to hold it.

Three shots. Three. They rang in my ears. I counted each one. One after the other. One. Two. Three. One. Two. Three. One. Two. Three. My ears were ringing again. I didn’t even realize that the call had ended.

I heard Emily ask how far we were, and Morgan quietly said that we were still ten minutes out, if we were lucky. Ten minutes for Foyet to find Jack. Ten minutes for him to wait for Hotch to get home. Ten minutes for him to kill my family. Ten minutes to take everything from me. Ten minutes. If we were lucky. If. If we were lucky, we’d get there and maybe only Haley and Jack would be dead. Lucky. That was considered lucky. If we weren’t, I’d walk into our home to find all three of them dead and Foyet gone.

There was nothing we could do. Nothing but to wait the ten agonizingly long minutes. Every second felt like an hour. Every breath I needed to take felt impossible to reach, like a thousand pounds were resting on my chest. And yet, the world around us didn’t seem to notice. Cars on the road moved to the side to let us through, but then they continued on behind us. The trees were still, and the birds were flying high in the sky, kids were riding their bikes on the sidewalks, people were waiting for the public transport buses; and not one of them knew what was really going on. No one knew. No one cared. Just ten minutes of me staring out the window, watching all of those people living their normal, happy lives. And I wished that I were in their shoes.

As we pulled into the neighborhood, I sat up straight, wiped my eyes, and adjusted my vest. I let go of Morgan’s hand and shrugged off Rossi’s touch on my shoulder. I pulled out my gun and checked the magazine and the chamber while telling Morgan that I’d lead us inside quietly. No one argued. They just seemed as shell shocked as I should have still been, but I couldn’t afford to let my guard down when my family was in danger in our house.

Hotch’s car was parked on the grass in front of the house like he sped up as close to the door as he could get before jumping out and running in. The front door was wide open, but all of the blinds inside were closed. Someone had set the house up, and that someone was probably Foyet. He was toying with us. He had been planning this for so long while stalking us, and now that the day had finally come, he was probably sitting inside, smiling and waiting.

As the team got out, the EMTs and SWAT team also arrived. Morgan went over to talk with them about the plan for proceeding inside, while the rest of the team had my back going into the house. We quietly ran up the front lawn, and Rossi pushed the front door open carefully to make sure it wouldn’t break or hit the wall. Our favorite dinosaur wasn’t on the front table as I had left it, which meant that Jack had it with him in his spot, or Foyet took it. I didn’t want to assume anything past that while I needed to focus on finding them all alive.

The house was dark with no lights on and the curtains drawn, so we all pulled out our flashlights. I crossed my wrists over each other, one hand holding my gun up, the other pointing my flashlight forward to help me navigate my way around my own home. I gestured to Rossi and JJ to check upstairs while Emily followed me as we proceeded quietly throughout the first floor.

There was nothing in the living room that was out of place. Not a single thing. Even all of Jack’s toys were put away, even though Hotch and I had left them out on purpose to make it feel like he was still around. Someone had cleaned up, maybe it was Foyet, or maybe it was Haley. Either way, the room was still empty, so we moved on.

The door to the kitchen was wide open. Inside, one of the drawers was pulled out all the way. I checked the inside of it and noticed that our spare flashlight was gone. Hotch had come through there, too. I checked the knife rack, taking note that all of the knives were still there. No sign of a struggle in the kitchen. So we moved on again.

We worked our way into the dining room, and that was where we found the first evidence of a struggle. The table was broken like someone had been thrown onto it and it collapsed under their weight. Then just beyond the wreckage of the table, we saw the first trace of blood on the carpet. I pointed at it for Emily, and she nodded to tell me that she saw it, too. The trail led to the stairs, which was where Rossi and JJ were already looking around— and truth be told, since we hadn’t found Haley, Hotch, or Jack downstairs, it meant that they were upstairs, and I didn’t want to be the one to find them. I was fine with waiting downstairs for Rossi or JJ to tell me the bad news.

“Pssst,” Emily drew my attention to the window that was facing the backyard.

There was something going on outside, but we weren’t sure what. It could have just been the neighbors making some noise, or maybe the SWAT team was surrounding the house to make sure Foyet wouldn’t get away. Whatever it was, we needed to know, so I walked over to the window and carefully pulled the drape to the side to take a look. I peeked into the backyard for just a moment before realizing what was going on. Without warning, I dropped the drape and dashed for the backdoor, which was open, too. Emily chased after me, not sure what I saw, but still decided to follow my lead.

I holstered my weapon as I ran out past the patio and onto the grass. “Hotch!” I yelled at him, sliding to my knees. He was straddling Foyet’s torso while continuously beating him. Foyet was unrecognizable behind the blood and bashed in face, yet Hotch kept fucking going. “Aaron, stop!” I grabbed his arm before he could land another punch and pulled him off of Foyet. He sobbed as he fell back into my chest, and I wrapped my arms around him to make sure he wouldn’t try to get back on Foyet to keep going. “Aaron, it’s me! He’s dead! He’s dead! Stop!” He slumped against my body, giving up, and sobbed even harder. “Baby…” I cried. “Where’s Jack?”

He stopped crying at the realization that he hadn’t gone to find Jack yet. He wiggled himself out of my hold and scrambled desperately to his feet, nearly tripping over himself as he did so. I pushed myself off the ground, too, and chased after him into the house. Emily didn’t follow us, though. She stayed on the porch, just staring at Foyet’s body and all the damage Hotch had done. Hotch was capable of so much, but no one ever truly saw the extent of what he could do when he was angry. While it didn’t exactly surprise me how Foyet ended up, I could understand why Emily was so shocked and speechless.

We ran through the dining room, jumped over the pool of blood on the carpet, and hurried up the stairs. I noticed that the corner wall on the staircase had a dent at the bottom, like someone had smashed their head into it during a struggle. There was blood all over the stairs, and the banister, and the walls. So much blood… But we kept running. I used the railing to pull myself up faster, skipping as many steps as I could at a time without accidentally running into Hotch.

When we reached the top of the steps, we turned to the left and ran into the office together. Hotch’s desk was under the window that looked over the driveway on the side of the house, and my desk was on the wall to the left of that. Between our desks was a large wooden chest with a leather padded seat on the top.

Hotch hesitated in front of it, not sure if he wanted to look inside. But I didn’t wait. I had to know. Did Foyet kill my little man? Did he kill the only innocent thing in our lives? Did he win?

I knelt down and slowly opened the lid. A sudden sigh of relief left me before I started to cry again. Jack was laying down in the chest, messing with the power switch of his Spider-Man themed flashlight in one hand, and playing with our favorite dinosaur with the other. As I opened the lid all the way and rested it against the wall, Jack sat up and I immediately hugged him tight. I let out a painful cry as he nuzzled his head against my shoulder and hugged me back with his Superman strength. I lifted him out of the chest and cradled him close.

“I worked the case with you, Dad,” Jack said to Hotch.

Hotch crouched down beside me and pushed back some of Jack’s blonde hair out of his face. “You did a great job, buddy.” Hotch kissed my temple for a long moment.

Jack unwrapped his arms from our hug, and so did I. “Are you okay, Dad?”

Hotch nodded, “I’m okay. I want you to go outside with Ms. Jareau, okay?”

I looked over to the door to see JJ and Rossi standing there. No Haley with them.

One. Two. Three.

The gunshots rang in my ears again as Jack pried himself away from me and ran into JJ’s arms. JJ caught him with a forced smile and immediately carried him downstairs, making sure that he couldn’t look down the hallway to our bedroom. Rossi stayed in the doorway to make sure that we were okay, though.

Hotch fell from his knees onto his hip and leaned into my side as he started sobbing again. I turned and sat with him on the floor so that I could hold him better. He hid his bloody face in my shoulder, screaming into my shirt. My hands went up to the back of his head and held him close. My fingers curled in his hair as I let out another sob with him.

Jack was safe, but at what cost? Haley… One. Two Three. Haley didn’t make it. That was Foyet’s final move, his greatest achievement. He died knowing that he had beat Aaron Hotchner. He died knowing that he took something that meant everything to Hotch. And that was a win for him. He didn’t have to kill Jack, he didn’t have to kill me, and he didn’t even have to kill Hotch. All Foyet needed to do was take out Haley and that was it.

Hotch’s hands curled into fists around the fabric of my sleeves. I knew that he was trying to stop. I knew that he didn’t want to keep crying. He had been brave all day. He had been so strong, despite everything. And now… Now… He just couldn’t hold it in anymore, and I couldn’t blame him. Haley was the first love of his life. They had been together since high school, and she gave him the greatest gift of their lives, which was Jack. They loved each other so much, even after the divorce, and even after meeting me. They had been through hell and back together, and he knew that he had to let her go when she had finally had enough, even though it was the hardest thing for him to have ever done. Hotch never stopped loving her, it just changed after their separation. He lost her and that was the breaking point.

Foyet had killed dozens of people over his lifetime, he had taunted us, he had stabbed Hotch, he had taken the ring that was supposed to be mine, he had stolen our family from us, and he had killed Sam. And yet… none of that broke Hotch until Haley. He could go through all of that without blinking an eye, and then there was Haley.

One. Two. Three.

Hotch leaned back and looked into my eyes. His nose was broken, his forehead, lips, and cheeks were all bleeding, and his tears were still streaming down his face; but he looked right at me and took my face in his bloody hands. “Are you alright?”

I shook my head. “Are you?”

He shook his head and screwed his eyes shut again. “She’s in the bedroom… On the floor… Her eyes are open… And she was staring at me…” I brushed some strands of his dark hair out of his face. “I’ve gotta close her eyes…” He let go of my face and slowly stood up.

“Aaron—” I tried to catch his sleeve before he could leave me, but he kept going.

I took a moment to just watch him through my fogged up eyes from where I was sitting on the floor. He stumbled around, catching himself on the walls, then pushed past Rossi, who was still standing there. As Hotch walked into the hallway, Rossi and I finally made eye contact. He nodded his head to the side, a gesture that I should go with Hotch because he shouldn’t be alone. I slowly stood and started peeling off my vest. Rossi took it from me as I passed him on my way into the hallway.

I felt my knees buckle slightly as I passed Jack’s room and saw Haley’s feet in our bedroom at the end of the hall. I could tell that was lying on the floor, just as Hotch warned me, yet I still wasn’t prepared for it. Only one shoe was still on her feet, the other one neglected on the side. Foyet had… He wasn’t known for messing with the bodies afterwards, but this was different. He wanted this to hurt as badly as it could. He took every precaution to ensure that he would win. Messing with Haley’s body after she was dead… That was just senseless and cruel. It didn’t bring him any direct pleasure. What did it for him was that it would hurt Hotch the most.

As I practically limped up to the bedroom, I saw that Hotch was already on the floor with Morgan, cradling Haley’s dead body in his arms and sobbing into her shoulder. Morgan had a hand on Hotch’s other shoulder to try and comfort him, but it wasn’t doing any good as Hotch continued to cry and cry. I had never seen him like that. I had never seen him so out of control, so broken. I had seen him cry before, of course, but this was different. This was watching his heart break over and over again as he realized that he wasn’t in a nightmare, that this was real life, that he had really lost her, for good this time.

Morgan stood and met me in the doorway, “Y/N—”

He was trying to stop me from going in and seeing more, but I had to know. I had to see. I had to be with him. So I pushed by. Morgan let me pass, but I didn’t make it very far into the room.

One. Two. Three. They rang again as I saw all the blood.

One. Two. Three. I saw the bullet holes in her chest and neck.

One. Two. Three. I saw an engagement ring on her finger.

I turned to Morgan and covered my mouth to stop to myself from throwing up everywhere. He caught me and held me in his arms as I started sobbing again.

Foyet always liked to take something from his victims and put them on the next. It was his signature. When he hurt Morgan, he took his credentials, then left them on Hotch when he was stabbed and taken to the hospital. Hotch told me that Foyet had specifically gone looking for the engagement ring he was planning on giving me, and we all knew that it was going to be placed on his next victim— but I didn’t find any ring on Sam, considering Foyet had cut his fingers off.

When I saw Haley, though, I suddenly knew why.

She wouldn’t have been wearing an engagement ring— she wouldn’t have even been wearing her old wedding ring. Foyet took the ring from Hotch because he knew he was going to kill Haley. He knew that he wanted this to be his grand finale, and he wanted to make sure it hurt like a bitch. He wanted to prove to Hotch that this was all somehow his own fault. If he didn’t divorce Haley, this wouldn’t have happened. If he didn’t turn down Foyet’s offer, this wouldn’t have happened. If he had been just a few minutes quicker getting to the house, this wouldn’t have happened. Hotch let Haley down and Foyet rubbed it in his face by not only taking Haley away from him, but the joy that came from buying that ring for me and the excitement of getting to propose to me one day with that very ring. Foyet knew that I wouldn’t want that ring anymore. He knew that Hotch wouldn’t want to even tear it off of Haley’s finger. He took Haley away, and he took away something that was important for us moving on.

He won in every way.

One. Two. Three.

Strauss stared at me silently. There were no words. There was nothing she could say to me that would matter, and she knew it. Even if she could give her condolences, I wouldn’t accept them from her. She didn’t care about me, or Hotch, or the team, or even Haley or Jack. Yet she still couldn’t even find the words to conclude our interview. All she could do was silently turn off the tape recorder between us and watch as I left the room.

As I stepped into the hallway, I let out the breath I had been holding in my chest for that entire interview. I put my hands on my knees and tried to focus on the marble floor in order to ground myself. Hotch approached me, his shoes sneaking into my field of view. I stood up straight and sighed.

“I never want to talk about it again. Ever,” I told him.

He nodded understandingly. The door opened again and Strauss told us that she was ready to speak with Hotch before the rest of the committee would show up to make the final decision about whether or not he would get to keep his job at the FBI. Hotch thanked her for letting him know and asked if we could have another moment alone. She smiled lightly and retreated back into the room.

We stared at each other again, just like we had before I went into the conference room to endure that Hell. Understandably, he was the nervous one now. He was probably going through the motions, too. He wanted me to go with him, he wanted me to hold him, he wanted me to be there as a constant reassurance that everything was going to be alright— that I was alright. He wanted to know that, no matter what, I wouldn’t leave him, that he hadn’t failed me, that I was safe and I was his. He lost one love, he couldn't afford to lose me, too.

“I love you,” I told him when we were alone again. “Whatever happens… I love you…”

Hotch cupped my cheek with one of his palms, and I pressed into his touch. “I love you, too.” He kissed my forehead, but when he pulled away, I leaned up to kiss his lips. We pressed into each other’s touch gently. I didn’t want to hurt him, and he didn’t want to hurt me, but we needed to feel the softness of each other’s lips, and we desperately needed the comfort of our kisses. “You’ll stay with Jack?” I nodded and felt tears welling up in my eyes again. “Don’t cry. Please,” he quietly begged.

“I’m trying,” I croaked. “I’m here. It’s okay. You’re okay. We’re okay.” He wiped away the tear on my cheek that managed to escape me. Before it could get worse, I turned away from Hotch’s touch and hid my face from him. “I’ll be with Jack when you’re done.”

Hotch stepped around me before he could break, too. I stood in the hallway as he entered the conference room, leaving me all alone. I let out an audible sob and started crying again. It was hard enough for me to go through that interview without shedding a tear… I couldn’t imagine the struggle Hotch was going to face over the next hour. And he was going to be all alone. All I could do was hear the way he cried that day replaying over and over again in my mind. I had never heard anyone sound that distraught in my life. It was probably even worse than hearing the gunshots. Whenever my ears weren’t ringing with the sound of Foyet’s weapon firing, it was echoing Hotch’s screams, and I could still feel it on my shoulder every time I thought about it.

“Hey, sunshine,” Morgan cooed from behind me, putting a hand on my shoulder.

I sucked in a shaky breath before wiping my eyes and turning around. When I saw him and the rest of the team standing there, Jack in JJ’s arms, I tried to act like I hadn’t just broken down by forcing a smile on my face so that Jack couldn’t worry about me.

“Hey, there, little man,” I said to Jack as JJ handed him over to me. He was getting so darn big; it was hard to hold him when I hardly had enough energy to stand up straight. Jack hid his face in the crook of my neck, just like he had when I pulled him out of the chest in our office. I felt the tears start to pour again, even though I was trying so hard to make it stop. “I love you…” I whispered to him, hardly making it to the end of what I really wanted to say. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” he whispered back, playing with my hair with his fingers as he said it.

I looked over at Emily and saw that she had finally broken. I held out the arm I could afford to let go of Jack with, offering the team the hug I desperately needed. Emily was the one who hugged me and Jack, Morgan hugging me and her, Garcia hugging him and Jack, and so on.

“I love you guys.”

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criminal minds family: @peggy1999 @gorgeousdarkangel @alex--awesome--22 @oceaneblu @brithedemonspawn @absolutemarveltrash @bshelley322 @rousethemouse

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotchner #Aaron Hotch Hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine

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masterthespianduchovny · 4 years ago

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It’s always fascinating when fans hate Mulder or Scully. I’m not talking about faving one over the other, but legit hating one of the characters.

It’s always been noteworthy for me because it’s usually Mulder who gets hated because he wasn’t sensitive enough or whatever. And there are 2-3 occasions where Mulder was a straight up ass, no questions asked, but overall, Mulder treats Scully better than anyone else in the series.

And this doesn’t mean he treats everyone like shit, but Mulder treats people based on how they react and treat him. Mulder is almost never an ass to anyone unless they disrespected him (or were in general) or were scammers/serial killers.

Mulder just doesn’t mistreat for an lol.

He’s quippy and witty, but it’s almost never malicious.

This is important when it comes to Scully. He KNOWS why she was assigned to him and he KNOWS her background. Mulder tests her, but he actually DOES his homework. And, interestingly enough, Mulder never gatekeeps. This is important to note because all of this happens when they FIRST meet. Mulder never tells Scully she’s not smart enough or well versed enough to be on the X-Files. He even respects Scully more when she calls him out about hiding shit.

While other law enforcement employees tried to coddle and look down on Scully because of her gender, Mulder treated her as his equal. Hell, at times, he thought she deserved better than to be assigned to him, despite him wanting her as a partner.

This is one of the reasons why their relationship was so solid. Scully was taken seriously and didn’t have to prove herself to Mulder, but the downside of his faith and confidence in her was Scully feeling she had to be strong around him all of the time. Unfortunately, Scully drew the wrong conclusion because Mulder wouldn’t have held it against her if she was vulnerable or “weak” at times. We see on a few occasions where Mulder says or indicates as much.

So, why is this important?

Because, when people shit on Mulder they are judging him only by his worst moments, which were rare and not a pattern of behavior. And that doesn’t mean that Scully couldn’t or shouldn't react to behaviors or situations she finds undesirable, but rather, we shouldn’t paint people by the worst moments, especially if we’re treating them as if they happened in a vacuum.

At the same time, it seems as if people want Mulder to behave like a boyfriend and not Scully’s partner or just a “real” person overall.

We make mistakes, we get blinded by certain things, sometimes we are in our feelings for one reason or another. But, Mulder isn’t allowed to have that by some. He must cater to Scully’s feelings even though Scully didn’t take it personally for the most part. And I know some would sum it up to the male writers, but overall, it doesn’t track for me. There are a few occasions where I’d agree, but even then, when you are so familiar and entwined with a person, things that would upset you with others doesn’t upset you with your person. They’re given more rope or you aren’t bothered by certain things because of the history and what you know, you know?

This is why the Diana situation was so egregious both within the world and as a viewer. Regardless of what happened between Mulder and Scully, Mulder trusted her word above all else AND didn’t doubt her on that level. I can understand people getting upset about THIS even if you just analyzed it from a character perspective when it came to Mulder and Scully’s relationship.

Conversely, there are people who think Scully is a bitch (which she can be at times and I mean that as a compliment. lol) or she's “too” skeptical.

And that’s annoying as fuck as well. Because it’s easy for Mulder to be right when he reads about every supernatural thing under the sun and blindly believes in it. Scully would be right too if she just believed anything Mulder told her.

But, part of the reason Scully is vital and what makes their partnership work is that Scully forces Mulder to whittle down his theories and “prove” them to her. Reminder: both of them have to write up reports stating that this bonkers shit happened. And part of the reason Mulder needs to whittle down his theories is to Scully knows what to look for and test if it comes to that. She is the science that helps validates Mulder’s work. If Scully believed this new case just because other cases happened, it would also kinda bias her.

The thing is: once Scully commits to one of Mulder’s theories, whether or not she believes it, she follows the theory to its natural conclusion. She has an idea of what to look for and what may be out of the ordinary (well, she’d notice this regardless). Scully may not believe going in, but she doesn't dispute facts. Most importantly, regardless of the pushback Scully gives to Mulder when they're alone, she is literally his biggest defender in their reports, when talking to their bosses, and generally everyone else.

To hate Scully or think she’s a bitch for this reason is absolutely absurd. I’m not saying that no one can dislike her (or Mulder), but it appears that some people want the characters to act in a way that appeases the other character than if it makes sense to them and their function in the show.

And I think that’s why “Field Trip” works so well: it has Mulder and Scully unpack their own professional feelings when it comes to each other. These are things we see they’re appreciative of one another down the line.

In another meta, I discussed how Mulder’s trauma influenced who he was pre the X-Files, but we see Scully’s personality and behavior evolve throughout the course of the show. Scully is a bitch because she’s been medically raped, deceived, and manipulated for fucking YEARS. Although she gradually changed over the years, the behavior that is etched into our mind is her post cancer characterization. Which MAKES SENSE. Scully was about to die and the origins of her cancer, the cure, and the other shit that was done to her was FUCKED UP. It was gross violation after gross violation.

She becomes more gradual and skeptical of people at this point, other than Mulder. There is a sort of new lease on life, but also a tragic realization: men are the true monsters and they must be stopped. I honestly don’t know how else people for Scully to be at that point in her life. She’s lost so much!

Mulder and Scully are two complicated people trying to navigate their own trauma as they solve cases and try to save the world. Of course their relationship is complex, layered, and flawed. Of course they don’t say all of the right things, make the right decisions, and sometimes fuck up.

Because unless one of them left the X-Files, the baggage they carry is the price to pay to be there.

Working on the X-Files is so much darker than people realize and maybe that’s why some are so quick to judge or hate characters: they haven’t unpacked just how fucked up and tragic it is to pay the price they did for staying.

#mulder #scully #the x-files #this shit is too complex to truly dig into right now

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babyboy-bangtan · 5 years ago

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By Chance Chapter 12

A misunderstanding gone viral puts you on BTS’s radar, which leads to a series of events that finally culminate with you meeting them for the first time.

✚ Pairing: Sub!BTS/Female Reader ✚ Word Count: 5.4K ✚ Rating: M ✚ Warnings: None. ✚ A/N: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of my imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Dialogues spoken in Korean when English is also being spoken will be bolded and italicized. Read on AO3 / Chapters 1-4 / Chapters 5-8 / Chapters 9-10 / Chapter 11

The Meeting: Part 2

Thanks to some good, old fashioned bribing with tickets to the premiere of your next movie, you managed to get your hand on a couple of the pictures from BTS's SNL shoot, and you were able to have your assistant get you a custom made card for them. It's a pretty simple design, but you think that makes it look just perfect; it's one of their group photos, with 'HAPPY SNL DEBUT DAY' written at the bottom. It's a cute, well-made card that they can open to see what you've written inside— the problem only being that you don't know what to write just yet.

As you delete yet another sentence you've written on your notes because it doesn't feel right— this has been going on for at least half an hour— an incoming call from your assistant suddenly startles you.

"Fuck." You say, clutching your chest before answering it. "Hey, what's up?"

"Hey, I'm right next in line at the flower shop— do you want me to give the phone to the florist when it's my turn?"

"Yeah, please do. I'll just wait on the line. Thank you!"

"Okay, no problem." She says, while you distract yourself by trying to come up with a nice, not too personal message to write to the boys.

They were absolute sweethearts when you met them, much more so than you thought they were going to be, not to mention much more breathtakingly beautiful in person than on screen— and that truly is saying something. It was a bit hard to keep yourself together while they were around you because of how stunning they looked, and when they told you that Jungkook and Jimin were actually your fans you almost lost it. Jungkook was especially adorable— he got so shy around you that it made you want to hug him and tell him it was okay, but you knew that would've been an invasion of his personal space you doubt he would've welcomed.

You almost made a fool of yourself when they asked you what your favorite video of theirs was; you answered Blood, Sweat and Tears so quickly that you were sure they would realize why it was your favorite. You ended up covering it up by saying it was because of how artistic it was— which is not a lie per se, only a partial truth— and they seemed to fully believe you. You couldn't go ahead tell them the true reason was because seeing them hanging from swings, being tied up and blindfolded while kneeling or wrapping their hands around their own throats makes you want to go wild— because they would've rightfully run for the hills.

So, because of how lovely and sweet they were, you want to give them something that might ease their nerves even if it's just a little bit. You know what it feels like to be nervous on SNL for the first time as a host— but they are the first South Korean band to ever perform there and you can't imagine how much pressure they must be feeling over that.

Since you don't know them that well, you went for the safest bet you could think of: a nice arrangement of flowers. You would've loved to go into the shop yourself, but if word got out that you were in a flower shop buying a arrangement with 7 different types of flowers, it'd be only a matter of time before someone put two and two together and fucked up your gift by telling some news outlet desperate for any kind of celeb gossip.

"Hi, sir." You hear your assistant say. "Would you mind speaking with my boss over the phone? She couldn't come here but she wanted to order an arrangement herself—"

"Sure, no problem." You hear a male voice say, a bit further away and muffled. "Hello?" Now his voice is perfectly clear.

"Hi! Thanks for accepting the call."

"No problem, ma'am. What can I help you with?"

"Okay, I wanted to order an arrangement that I need to be ready by... let's say Saturday at noon—"

"Uh, that's very soon—" He says, but you interrupt him because you knew this was coming. The flower shop is quite famous— and that fame is well earned because their work is stunning— but you know from someone that it's not impossible to get them delivered in a couple days, if you're willing to pay the price. Which you are. That's the reason you sent your assistant— so she would try to persuade him if in case you couldn't yourself through the phone and to avoid the possibility of him hanging up on you before hearing you out.

"I know— but I'll pay whatever it costs to get it by this Saturday."

"It's going to be a bit expensive, ma'am—"

"I know." You repeat. "Money won't be an issue."

"Uhhh... okay, then." He says. "What kind of arrangement do you have in mind?"

"I need a big arrangement that must have 7 different types of flowers— and I need it to be noticeable that they are 7 and they're different, and they all need to be given the same importance. I don't want any sticking out more than the others."

"Right, do you have any type of flowers in mind?"

"No because I don't really know anything about flowers— except that they have meanings. It would be perfect if you choose flowers that symbolized greatness, success, longevity, beauty, elegance— that type of things."

"Got it. Any particular color combinations, maybe warmer colors or...?"

"Oh, yes. I want the color you notice first to be pink. Maybe different types of pink? And if you need to add other colors, they should be pastels. But pink has to be the main color. I just want it to look really beautiful. I want the people getting it to feel valued when they see it."

"That I can do, ma'am. Anything else?"

"No, that's all. Thank you so much, my assistant will take care of the payment."

"My pleasure."

"Hi, boss." Your assistant says, always careful to not say your name out loud, just in case. "I got it from here."

"Oh, wait! Did you get the vase already?" You almost forgot to ask.

"Yes. I picked it up before coming here. It looks just like you wanted it. I'll text you a picture later."

"Thank you! See you soon!"

You also had her order a custom made glass vase inspired on the cover of their latest album, but you don't know yet if it's going to look good or clash with the arrangement the florist will make for you. If it doesn't look good you'll just discard the idea, even though you really hope it does. You want them to know you just didn't ask for a generic arrangement of flowers, you want them to be able to tell that you put some thought into this so they know they're appreciated. You know a thing or two about feeling like an outsider, and you also know the relief you can get from knowing that someone from the other side is on yours too, supporting you.

When you hang up, you suddenly have an idea for what you want to write. When you went down a rabbit hole of BTS compilation videos that ended up with you laughing so hard that your stomach hurt and there were tears streaming down your face— who would've thought that the same guys who look like sin personified on stage and music videos were so damn goofy and hilarious?— you noticed there was a word they kept saying, but you forgot to search what it meant.

You open your browser and search 'what does fighting mean in kpop', because even though you're pretty sure that based on the context they used it you understood its meaning correctly, it still doesn't hurt to make sure.

"... a Korean word of support or encouragement. It is frequently used in sports or whenever a challenge such as a difficult test or unpleasant assignment is met. It derives from a Konglish borrowing of the English word "Fighting!"

You were correct.

화이팅— you will definitely use that. You start typing again, and for the first time you actually feel like what you wrote is appropriate for the situation.

You just hope the boys will actually like it, instead of thinking it's too much or that you crossed a line.

Much to Jungkook and Jimin's displeasure— although, to be fair, after meeting you the rest of them wouldn't have minded to spend more time with you either— they had to wait until Saturday before they could see you again. Sadly, even though the day is already upon them, they're now too focused on being completely prepared to really think about anything else. That's the reason why they hoped to meet with you again before the day of the episode; they hoped to interact with you one more time without having to worry so much about giving their best for their performances just yet.

To tell the truth, apart from Jimin and Jungkook who already were very aware they liked you and were really looking forward to meet you, the rest of them hadn't really had any set expectations when it came to you meeting them. Namjoon had been worried about Jin maybe getting flustered— which he didn't because he didn't really talk to you at all to make sure that didn't happen— and Yoongi was hoping to see Jin getting flustered, but he just settled for enjoying how shy and nervous Jimin and Jungkook got when you paid attention to them. What Hoseok loved the most was how quickly you made them feel at ease with you— like you'd known each other for a long time. Taehyung loved that too— and he also loved that you shared your experience with them to make them feel better. It really helped him feel a bit less nervous about their performance.

They had known you'd be nice— how could they think otherwise with Jungkook constantly reminding them about your kind personality— but they felt they weren't really prepared for how easy it was to be around you, even if there were embarrassing moments for several of them. Embarrassment was unavoidable, but any sort of awkwardness was nonexistent. You made them feel comfortable and welcome immediately, and they really appreciated it and were thankful for that.

After you shot the promos you had to leave and gave them all a hug goodbye, which was more than Jungkook ever thought he was going to get. And when you told them you were dying to see them perform live on Saturday, Jungkook felt like he was going to melt into a puddle on the floor. You kept telling them all how amazing and talented they were, and at that point they were all blushing and feeling embarrassed at your praises, not knowing what else to do but saying thank you as you rambled on about how incredible their choreographies and voices were. Namjoon got so shy when you told him his English was incredible that he could barely say another word after that.

When you finally left and they returned to their dressing room, Jungkook had to sit down to process everything that had just happened. He met you, you hugged him twice and to top it all you said they were great and told them how much you loved their songs and music videos.

Both him and Jimin got a good amount of teasing from the others on their way back to the hotel because of how flustered they'd gotten when you talked to them— Yoongi said he thought Jungkook was going to faint when you told him to sit next to you and Hoseok laughed at how charming Jimin tried to be and how immediately shy he got by you just talking to him.

"Namjoon-Hyung got shy too when she said his English was good!" Jimin had blurted out, trying to divert the teasing to someone else while the others laughed.

"Why are you dragging me into this? I didn't say anything!" Namjoon had complained, blushing deeply.

The teasing went on through the rest of the day, and by the time they had to go to bed, Jungkook started daydreaming about the possibility of you and all of them becoming actual friends. After getting to spend time with you and because of how nice you were, it slowly stopped feeling like something unreachable.

Now, the day of the show is finally here, and even though their performances are at the forefront of their minds, knowing that they'll get to see you again is also something that makes them feel excited. Some more so than others, but they're all excited nonetheless.

When they arrive to the studio the feeling of anticipation starts to truly settle in, and with it nervousness and excitement as well. They are well prepared— they've rehearsed the songs over and over again— but the possibility of something going wrong and affecting the performance negatively is always a worry.

Namjoon walks into the room first, but he suddenly stops his movements when he catches sight of what's on the table.

"What? What's this?" He asks, shocked, looking around their staff for answers. "Who left this here?"

There's a beautiful, huge flower arrangement waiting for them.

"Wooooow." Taehyung says right behind him. "Is this from the SNL people? It's so pretty." He smells the flowers, closing his eyes as he enjoys their lovely perfume. Someone from their staff answers that someone from the SNL crew left it a little while ago without saying anything else.

The rest walk in and marvel at the arrangement as well, but it's Hoseok who finally realizes there's actually an envelope positioned between the flowers.

"Oh, guys, I think there's a card." He opens the envelope and smiles at the image on the card, showing it to the others."Cute."

"Who is it from, Hyung?" Jimin asks, going to smell the flowers as well while Taehyung takes a picture of them.

"It's from [Y/N]-Noona!" Jungkook suddenly exclaims, reading over Hoseok's shoulder.

"She wrote a message." Hoseok says, handing it to Namjoon, who quickly reads it and translates it for the rest of them.

It's normal to be nervous, but remember you're here for a reason: You already made it. Don't worry, you're gonna kill it! 화이팅! [Y/N]

"She wrote 'fighting' in Korean, that's so thoughtful of her." He says with a smile, handing the card to Jimin when he asks for it.

"Ah, [Y/N]-Noona is so nice." Taehyung says as he reads the card with Jimin, who nods in agreement.

"Ah, wait—" Yoongi suddenly mumbles, crouching down slightly to take a better look. "The vase looks like the cover of our album."

"What, really?" Jin says, resting his hands on Yoongi's shoulders and crouching as well. "Oh wow, it does." In the middle of the soft pink of the glass vase, they can see the distinct heart shape of their album cover art. "This looks very expensive." He finally adds, standing upright again.

"Hyung, we don't have anything like this for her!" Jungkook suddenly says, almost panicking.

You got them this incredibly thoughtful gift, and he worries that you might feel they are ungrateful because they didn't get anything for you. How did it not occur to them to get you a flower bouquet as well? It's such a common thing to give, even if it still would've been a smaller gift than the one you gave them. It would've been something, at least.

"Well, we've got the album to give her." Namjoon says, scratching the back of his head. Until Jungkook mentioned it, he hadn't really considered that they might look rude for not getting you something like this as well.

"Don't be silly, she obviously didn't get us this because she was waiting for something in return." Yoongi interrupts them before Jungkook starts to have a meltdown. "You can tell she's not the kind of person who'd do something like that."

"He's right." Hoseok agrees. "I think she just wanted us to feel welcome."

"I think so too." Jimin says, with Taehyung nodding at his side. Jin and Namjoon also agree, and Jungkook can't really argue against that. You're too kind to be bothered by something like that and you definitely wouldn't get them something because you wanted something from them. You did this because you wanted to, and that's it.

When they start getting dressed for their Boy With Luv performance, Jungkook can't help himself and keeps glancing at the TV on the wall to check if you're there already, even if he knows the show hasn't even started yet. In your first SNL episode you were hilarious, and he knows this time will be no different.

Once you do appear, Jungkook's eyes are firmly glued to the screen. He's vaguely aware a stylist is working on him, but he's just letting her do whatever she needs while enjoying your monologue. The rest of the boys end up watching it as well, even though they don't all understand what you're saying on the same level. Namjoon, however, is laughing so hard he's almost crying.

"Oh my god, she's hilarious." He says, clutching his stomach. Jungkook had mentioned more than once that you were funny, but he had no idea you were this funny. The way you deliver every line you're saying makes it just perfect. As far as he knows you're not a comedic actor, but looking at you so at ease standing there, he feels like you definitely could be.

Jungkook grins at him, nodding in agreement.

After that, the there's not much more to do than practice the little details and wait for the time of the performance to come.

When you were told that you only had to be at the main stage a couple minutes before you needed to present BTS, you have to admit you were a little disappointed. You wanted to see the boys again before that, but work is work and you needed to do several outfit changes through the night. You're now dressed in regular clothes again, but after their performance is done you need to rush out of there and start getting ready for another sketch once again. So far everything has been going smoothly, except for one moment where you almost broke character and started laughing, but you managed to work it out pretty well and continue without much trouble.

Once you finally get there, the boys are already waiting on the stage and you manage to wave at them with a smile before a makeup artist pulls you away and starts fixing your face, and soon enough you're standing in front of the camera, ready to introduce them.

"Ladies and gentlemen, BTS." You say, moving away to the side so the camera can focus on them instead.

You, of course, are immediately enraptured by their performance and can't take your eyes off of them. Your brain still has a hard time processing that the boys who got so shy while just talking to you are over there now, being incredibly sexy and seductive like it's the way they are 24/7. They absolutely know what they're doing, and they know how to do it perfectly. They own the stage, and they love it.

You find yourself mouthing the "oh my my my" part of the chorus and dancing on your spot, because it's too catchy not to. The song is great, and you know for a fact it's gonna be a hit, and the performance is even better. You'll definitely be listening to it over and over again after this.

When the song is done, you only manage to give them two excited thumbs up when they look at where you are, before you are ushered away to get dressed for your next sketch. Things thankfully continue to go by without a problem; the audience's response is very positive and you feel quite confident about how everything is turning out to be.

It's not long before you're having another wardrobe change to present BTS's second performance of the night, and you're even more excited about this one than you were before. This song is actually one of your favorites, it's so fun to listen to and you can't wait to see them perform it live.

"Once again, BTS." You say, smiling widely as the camera moves away from you and goes to them.

You can actually sing this one— except for the parts in Korean— so you're really enjoying yourself this time. Dancing to their songs is pretty much unavoidable, and you can't help but mimic some of the easy parts of their choreography as well. They take your breath away through their entire performance— those damn hip rolls could give you a heart attack— and when they finish you start clapping and cheering for them like there's no tomorrow. They do get to see you right before someone takes you away so you can change again, and you manage to give them another thumbs up as you walk away to the dressing room.

When you're finally done with the last sketch, you feel the tension slip away from your body almost immediately. The last thing you need to do is get out of your costume and wrap up the episode with BTS and the cast, and you'll be finally done.

Your final outfit is a simple, not too tight dark blue suit with a white shirt and high heels, and the moment your makeup is fixed up you go back to the stage to get on position for the ending.

The boys are already there when you arrive, and you quickly greet them before someone from the production team starts to place them in the spots that work best for their height in relation to yours. When the cameras start rolling again you deliver your words of thanks for the opportunity to have so much fun with the SNL cast again and thank them, BTS and the amazing production team before saying your final goodbye so the credits can roll in.

You waste no time in hugging the boys one by one, immediately telling them how absolutely amazing their performance was, and then move on to the SNL cast who compliment you and tell you that you did a great job, which you say right back at them. They invite you to the after party, but you politely decline because you actually have a flight to catch in a few hours— and also because you're tired and don't really want to go.

Before you can start saying goodbye to them, Namjoon stops you to speak to you.

"Hey, would you mind to come by our dressing room in a bit? We have a little gift we wanted to give you—" He says, and you suddenly remember your assistant had told you that someone from their staff had asked her that already, and they told her they were going to film it.

"Oh, yes! Of course." You nod. "You guys go ahead and I'll be there in a sec." You want to switch your heels for something more comfortable before that.

They go in the direction of their dressing room, whereas you go find your assistant so she can give you your sneakers and take your high heels from you. Once you're done, you ask someone to lead you to where BTS's is staying.

"Come in, [Y/N]!" You hear Namjoon say when he sees you at the door, and you walk in and bow slightly to their staff before greeting them.

"Annyeonghaseyo." You say, and they reply the same to you. "Hey guys!" You say, waving at them. You hold yourself back from touching them too much because you don't want their fans to react negatively to this interaction, or maybe take it the wrong way. They all greet you with bright smiles, and suddenly Namjoon asks you to stand in the middle of them so they can take a picture.

"Oh, of course." You position yourself between Jungkook and Jimin. "You guys were so great tonight!" You say once the picture is taken.

You hear a chorus of thank you, and before you can leave Namjoon stops you and hands you a copy of their own album.

"We wanted to give you this—"

"You guys!" You say, genuinely touched at the gesture. "That's so sweet, thank you so much!" You clutch the album to your chest. "I love it."

You have to leave the room shortly after, and you wave at them as you walk through the door while they all yell goodbye to you.

You look at the album on your way back to your own dressing room; they all signed it, and even wrote little messages like 'thank you for the support', which you find to be absolutely adorable. Your assistant is waiting for you with yet another change of clothes— never in your life you have changed so often in such a short period of time, including your previous SNL appearance— so you can be actually comfortable once you're on your way to the airport.

Today was a long day, but a really fun and exciting one nonetheless. You just hope you'll be able to get some sleep on the plane, because otherwise you'll be fucked tomorrow.

It's not until after they are done filming the ending of their episode that Jungkook has a sudden thought, and waits no time to blurt it out to everyone in the middle of the room, startling even their stylists.

"We didn't thank [Y/N]-Noona for the flowers!" He cries out, looking like the world is about to end. He was just staring at the arrangement thinking about what a nice gesture it had been and how happy it made him, when he realized they never even did so much as mention it to you— and you didn't say anything about it.

"Oh shit." Namjoon says, realizing he's right and feeling angry at himself for not realizing it sooner. He had the entire night already planned in his mind and he did everything he had to do meticulously— but your gift was something he hadn't expected at all and his own nerves and excitement made him forget about it with everything else going on. "Do you think she's already gone?" He turns to their staff. "Can you find out if she left?"

God, they wasted so much time changing into their clothes that it's a very big possibility that you already left the building.

"She's still here, her assistant said she would make sure she doesn't leave yet, but you have to be fast because she has a flight to catch." Someone from their staff says, slightly breathless.

"Come on, let's go. We can't leave without thanking her." Namjoon says, and Yoongi frowns from his place on the couch.

"Do we all have to go? I'm sure it will be fine if only you go and thank her for all of us—" He complains, not wanting to get up.

"We're all going, Hyung. Get up." Namjoon says, leaving no room for discussion for anyone.

"I didn't really forget to thank her, I just thought they had decided not to and didn't say anything." Taehyung whispers to Jimin as they walk, who covers his mouth to stifle his laughter.

"Don't tell them that." He manages to whisper back.

When they finally arrive to your dressing room, they find you sitting there scrolling through your phone without a care in the world.

"Guys, hi!" You greet them with a smile, standing up once you see them enter. "What happened? My assistant told me—"

"We are so sorry!" Jungkook blurts out, looking very apologetic. You look at him like you have no idea what he's talking about— which, to tell the truth, you probably don't.

"Huh?" You say, frowning in confusion. "Sorry about...?"

"We forgot to thank you for the flowers." Namjoon quickly says, taking the reins of the apology. "We were very grateful when we saw them, and the message on the card was very thoughtful."

"The flowers— that's what this was about? You are very welcome guys, but it wasn't necessary to come all the way here, I promise." You laugh, lifting up both of your hands as if to make sure they understand you don't mind.

"No, no, it is. You went through all the trouble of getting them and it would be very rude to not thank you for them." Namjoon argues while the rest of them nod in agreement, and you bring your hands to your chest.

"That's incredibly sweet guys— I'm very happy you liked it. I just wanted you to know you are very welcome here. I know there are some people here that can be— how do I put this?" You look like you're trying to find the right words for a couple seconds. "Literal pieces of shit when it comes to talking about you." They all laugh at that, they can't really help it because of the deadpan way you say it. "But so many people here love you and appreciate you, and I hope you never forget that even if sometimes the worst people seem to be the loudest, they're not the majority. Not at all." They are all really touched by your words once Namjoon translates for them, but when he's about to reply to you he's interrupted by your assistant.

"[Y/N], the car is here. You need to go." She says, speaking from the door.

"I'm so sorry, I have to get going." You say, and they all nod in understanding. You sling your bag over your shoulder and start hugging them goodbye, but as you let go of Jungkook who is the last one, you suddenly say something that surprises them. "We should keep in touch."

"I can give you my number." Jungkook says immediately, pulling out his own phone so fast the others don't even see the movement. Jin has to look down in order to not burst out laughing right there, while the others do a slightly better job at hiding their reactions. "Or you give me yours." He unlocks his phone just in case, as he feels his ears starting to get hot. He doesn't care about embarrassment right now, this is more important.

You take the phone from his hand with a smile and quickly type your number, leaving it like that for him to save it himself.

"[Y/N]—" Your assistant calls for you again.

"Sorry guys, gotta go." You say, smiling apologetically. "Text me so I can save your number." You tell Jungkook with a smile right before walking away, leaving him just standing there looking down at the phone on his hand.

Jimin has his own phone out, quickly copying the number for himself before saving it as [Y/N] 누나.

"She gave me her number." Jungkook says, looking down at the screen in a daze.

"Yes, she did." Namjoon says, squeezing his shoulder while trying not to laugh at his reaction.

As they go get their things to finally go back to the hotel ,Jungkook's mind is focused only on the fact that he got your number, but not only that— he got it because you were the one who wanted to stay in touch with them.

He doesn't think he'll be able to sleep tonight.

While you relax and try to enjoy the car ride to the airport, your phone suddenly vibrates on your lap.

Is this [Y/N]?

It's a message from a number you don't recognize, so of course you assume it's Jungkook.

Yes. Who's this?

What you get in response is a selfie, but not from the person you were expecting.

It's Jimin. He's giving you a finger heart and has a puppy filter on, and you can't deny that your heart skips a beat at how adorable he looks.

Looks like someone stole my number.

Your phone vibrates immediately after, but this time it's a new number.

[Y/N]? Jungkook?

Much like Jimin, he sends you a selfie to confirm his identity— but unlike Jimin he has no filter on and is just looking at the camera with a grin instead. You feel your heart skip a beat again, and this time you send a picture of yourself in response, smiling as well.

Before you can even lock your phone it vibrates again, and this time it's Jimin.

Fuck.

He just sent you a selfie of himself pouting.

I don't steal :(

You have no doubts anymore. These boys will be the death of you.

This is the final chapter of the first arc of the story! Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!

#sub!bts #sub!idol #bts x reader #kim namjoon x reader #kim seokjin x reader #min yoongi x reader #jung hoseok x reader #park jimin x reader #kim taehyung x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #my work

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newtafterdark · 4 years ago

Text

Taste of Metal - Chapter 2: Safe Inside Familiar Walls AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26157634/chapters/63644236

Summary: What if the overwhelming VR experience Gordon went through, had a deeper purpose than just being a simple simulation & a freelance debug job for him? But most importantly- what if Gordon Freeman listens to Metal & used to be in a band? aka. the "Metalhead Gordon AU"

- - -

Gordon couldn’t sleep, as much as his body wanted him to.

The pain was one thing, but the number of unanswered questions was the overwhelming main reason he had curled up in a blanket, staring at nothing with wide eyes like a startled cat.

Tommy had not moved much after he had teleported them both into Gordon’s apartment, aside from grabbing a water bottle and some painkillers from the kitchen for the shaken scientist.

“D-Do we just wait? I don’t… I don’t know what to do a-about any of this. What even is “this”? What happened? H-How are you even REAL?”, Gordon stammered.

Tommy gave him an apologetic smile from his spot at the end of the bed.

“I just am, Mr Freeman. We all were- uhm- we all are real! I… wanted to tell you during everything. We all did! B-But the code didn’t let us.”

“But you can talk about it now! What changed it?”

Tommy appeared a chunk more nervous at this question but continued anyway-

“You.”

“M-Me??”, Gordon stuttered as he found himself in the focus of Tommy’s vibrant glowing eyes once again.

“We didn’t think someone could alter the code of the simulation like you did, Mr. Freeman... Y-You freed us.”, Tommy said with a warm smile- “I… all of us will do our best to explain everything to you once everyone is here.”

“In my apartment?” Tommy rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “We thought bringing you here would be the safest option for you. It’s a place you know and would feel comfortable in. I-In general but also to talk about everything that happened?”

Gordon nodded slowly.

“I… yeah, I guess that makes sense. And when you say “we”... are you sure everyone will make it out alive without our help?”

“Absolutely!”, Tommy's laugh lines deepened at the edge of his eyes- “I think they are just wrecking the place now for fun now! :)”

That left Gordon silent for a few seconds.

“Oh. W-Well… I…”, Gordon let out a short shaky laugh- “Sorry that I keep you from joining the fun... and that I can’t add support myself-”

Suddenly, Gordon found himself being held once more. Tommy hugged him gently, his chin resting on Gordon’s head.

“A-All of us want you to be safe first, Mr… … Gordon. Fun mayhem comes second! And… a-and I am rather here with you than g-getting overwhelmed with the noise… as fun as destroying a facility might be.”

Gordon chuckled, brushing away a tear he hadn’t noticed falling. “Oh… uhm, thanks. For being here and… the foresight and all that. I don’t think we’ll be safe here in the long run though…”

The taller scientist tilted his head at that. “Why would you leave your home behind? You don’t have to when anyone who could tell on us has other problems to deal with. Much... much bigger problems at that!”

“What… okay, you actually need to sit my ass down and explain what the fuck is happening. Because... this vague shit? Not helping with my still high-stress levels, my man.”

“Resonance cascade………....2”, was suddenly muttered too closely into Gordon’s left ear, almost making the man yeet himself off the bed-

“OH SHI-”

Gordon stared, almost frozen in place.

“B-BENREY?”

The guard (or former guard now? had he even ever been one, to begin with?) was propping himself up on the bed beside Gordon, his lower body no-clipping through it. Seeing this happen in real life turned out to be way trippier than Gordon could have ever imagined.

Yet aside from that… and the very much scary boss encounter they had had with him in the simulation, Benrey looked relaxed. Comfortable even.

“Yo, Feetm-”

Instantly, Benrey got tackled by Gordon. Aggressively, yes - but not with ill intent. Benrey let out a startled wheeze but soon stared in shock as he was tightly hugged against Gordon’s chest.

“I still have no idea how any of this is happening, but I am so fucking happy to see your annoying ass alive, holy SHIT!”, Gordon laughed, ignoring the pain in his stump as good as he could.

Tommy let out a snort as a few pink sweet voice orbs escaped Benrey.

“uhhhhhhhhhhhh… You too, man? Wasn’t sure if you’d make it on your own… decided that Tommy was the best. He always is, but… ya know. For getting you out. Smarter than all of us combined, ya know?”

Tommy waved Benrey off with a blush but smiled.

“Y-Yeah but all that matters is that everyone’s okay. Do you think the rest of the team will be here soon? I w-want us to tell Gordon what happened. He… he really needs to know. There were enough secrets in Black Mesa. :(”

Gordon slowly let go of Benrey and sat up, returning to cradling his arm. He let out a sigh.

“You can say that again. I… I don’t know how much you all know about my side of things, but the bastards never really told me the most important details on any of the projects they assigned me to. I always had to peace everything together myself… which was frustrating as all hell...”

Now it was Benrey’s turn to let out a huff as he pulled himself on top of the bed and got comfortable laying down with his hands behind his head. Gordon decided to look past the fact that the man was still in full guard get-up, including his helmet and boots. At least he looked surprisingly clean...

“Yeah, that was, uh… their whole schtick. Always has been.”, Benrey said, scratching his cheek with- … that was an entire third arm he just grew and Gordon decided to look past that even quicker than the full guard-getup.

Suddenly the door to Gordon’s bedroom opened, making Gordon jump and hold tighter onto his aching arm- until he recognized the friendly face of Darnold…and the very large golden retriever that pushed the door further open to let herself in.

Gordon’s tense shoulders relaxed a bit at the sight of both of them.

“H-Hey...”, stuttered Darnold, giving Gordon a nervous smile and wave- “I just wanted to let you guys know that Sunkist and I checked the area and the apartment. Everything’s clean.”

Sunkist let out a soft woof at the sound of her name and then opted to rest her head on the bed near Gordon. Man, she really was huge. And very much 3D now. Another thing to add to Gordon’s “oh damn I’m starting to feel real overwhelmed by this entire situation”-list.

Tommy pet Sunkist’s head gently and nodded. “Thanks, Darnold! And that’s good! We are several miles away from the facility... but it’s better to be extra safe and see if anything is weird here!”

Darnold sat down on the floor beside Tommy.

“I’ll go check again in a few minutes… I don’t trust this supposed freedom just yet.”

Gordon opted to just nod at that. Speech was slowly failing him as his senses dulled slightly from exhaustion. He leaned back against his bed frame.

He was about to close his eyes as the sound of space being wrapped and time getting bent to his left pulled him right back into high alert-

Dr Coomer and Bubby stepped out through the portal that had formed way too close to the boxes with Gordon’s vinyl record collection, followed by G-Man who closed the portal with a wave of his hand.

“Hello, Gordon!”, Dr Coomer exclaimed, eyes bright and happy as he spotted the man currently half bundled up in his blanket- “Looks like you made it here with good Tommy’s help without... ehm… further harm.”

Bubby scanned Gordon’s form with his eyes and frowned.

“They actually did it, the bastards. Shouldn’t surprise me, but...”, he motioned at the air without aim, seemingly not being able to put his frustration into words.

Gordon just smiled softly at them, exhausted to all hell and back but so relieved and happy that the entire Science Team had made it.

He also noted that Dr Coomer’s limb enhancements were far more visible in real life than in the low-poly form he had been used to. It was interesting to see and the tech guy in him really wanted to ask the man about the intricacies of how they worked. But… later. That could wait.

Bubby on the other hand… there was something off about how Bubby looked. Gordon couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but he supposed that Bubby’s lore of having been created artificially must have carried over into his real-life form as well.

But once again, this was something for Future Gordon to ponder about.

Present Gordon wanted to know about the general “ok, what the fuck just happened???”, before diving into information that he wasn’t even sure he had the right to know about.

He noticed G-Man giving his stump a glance as well before the suited man materialized a simple wooden chair for himself and sat down on it.

Bubby and Coomer opted to join Darnold and Tommy on the floor.

With everyone finally seated, G-Man opened his briefcase and pulled a very heavy-looking folder out of it. Its casing reminded Gordon of the pattern and colour of a missing texture error.

“I am… certain you have a lot of questions, Mr Freeman.”

Gordon closed his eyes, inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. He opened his eyes again, looking at everyone in the room over once more before nodding.

#hlvrai #metalhead gordon au #gordon freeman #hlvrai gordon #benrey #tommy coolatta #hlvrai darnold #hlvrai bubby #hlvrai coomer #hlvrai g-man #hlvrai sunkist #fanfic #fanfics #metalhead gordon #gordon is overwhelmed AS FUCK but he's trying his best

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overheardatthecontinental · 4 years ago

Text

The Claim, Chapter 10

Final chapter. Epilogue to come.

taglist: @greenmanalishi, @fluffyfirewhiskey, @cynic-spirit

Her heat lasted for a full week but she took off a few extra days to be sure.

The paranoia took a few days to fully settle and the dizziness lasted even longer. The Caloremite had done a number on her and the last thing she wanted was to risk a relapse at work. And John was more than happy to keep her at home, in bed or the nest, for as long as he could.

They’d used the extra time to finish moving Helen in. It hadn’t taken long, between John, Marcus, Hasani, and Nicky. They had managed to pack her things in a matter of hours and what she didn’t need, mostly the furniture and old things that had once belonged to her father, were donated.

He pouted when she went back to work but, by then, there were only a few weeks left of school.

Summer was fast approaching and John had excitedly started planning trips for them to take.

John had rented a house in Greece and it was to be their homebase for several weeks, while he took her around to Europe and North Africa.

Helen was convinced John was far more excited than she was, even though she’d never left the country before, but she didn’t mind. He was practically bouncing when he dropped her off for the last day of school.

“I’ll see you at three.” Helen told him, sleepily nuzzling her face against his shoulder.

She’d given up coffee after the incident. For more reasons than one. Doc’s words had shaken both of them to the core.

John barely let Helen walk until Helen insisted upon calling Doc back up to have a serious talk with John about what it would mean if she were actually pregnant. She still could walk. She could still carry things, although heavy lifting should be kept at a minimum.

Helen had no problem with that seeing as she already had John do most of the heavy lifting.

The first few weeks were hard. The first time Helen was sick after breakfast, it all went down hill.

John had rushed out to buy a test. Finding a variety, he purchased eleven different tests.

Helen called it excessive but humored him.

Eleven little plus signs over the course of a day.

Another blood test from Doc and it was confirmed.

Helen was pregnant.

“Are you sure you don’t need help cleaning out your classroom?”

“It’s mostly done, anyway.” She says with a shake of her head, “And between my students and Nicky, I imagine I’ll be okay.”

It still surprised John that he was actually good friends with a D’Antonio. There was no espionage involved or any sort of Underworld bullshit. They were actually friends and both Nicolo and John took a bit of pleasure in knowing that, when Santino found out, he would be pissed.

Small victories, as Nicky put it.

“You’re absolutely sur--”

“Stop worrying.” Helen lifts her head from his shoulder and gives him a look, even as she smiles.

John nods, although they both know he will never stop worrying.

Helen squeezes his thigh. “I’ll see you at three.”

How did seven hours away from her turn into a lifetime?

He leans over and kisses her, softly. Her hand comes up and she places a finger to his mark, gently rubbing it. Calming him.

“Miss you already.” She tells him, and slides out of the car. “Love you!”

“I love you too.” He says and the car door closes.

It crosses his mind, briefly, that their three weeks would have been up by now. That her heat would be coming at any time.

In so many ways, he wishes it had been different. He wishes he could have stopped Cavanaugh. That he had taken the threat from the Principal more seriously and had just killed him off in the beginning like he wanted to.

And while he wished he could have changed so many things about how things happened, he can’t deny the thrill that comes from seeing her mark or catching a glimpse of his own in the mirror.

He’d taken shit for it but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Winston had regarded it with a small hint of distaste but made no comment. Marcus had teased John that he always knew, deep down, that he was a bitch.

Even Hasani had seemed confused as to why John wore his mark so proudly.

“My father would literally have me killed if I ever let Nicky do that to me.” He had commented as they moved they carried Helen’s couch down the two flights of stairs. “I’m not saying I disapprove by any means, but, you have to know it won’t go over well in our world.”

John had merely inclined his head, “ Helen is my world.”

And that was what everyone else didn’t seem to get. The Underworld prided itself on certain rules and orders and a degree of civilization that never quite fit for a bunch of assassins and spies and mob bosses. In the years that John had been a part of that, he had never once truly understood the politics. The lies. The betrayal.

The constant watching of your back because your friend, who you just had lunch with, might have dropped arsenic in your drink when you weren’t looking.

He never liked that world. But he fit in there far better than he had anywhere else.

The Underground didn't pretend that good and evil were a thing. It didn’t fall victim to a rhetoric of black and white thinking and of absolutes. It was a world built upon shades of grey. But even in those shades of grey, there was a rigidity of we will allow this, but we will not allow that and we will never explain our reasons.

And the real world… well, it wasn’t perfect. That was the world that had forced his beautiful Omega to lock herself away. The same world that rejected basic human decency in favor of cycling economics.

They had a foot in each, but neither was meant for them.

The Underworld had raised him; had broken him and built him back up. It had made him strong and capable and allowed a Romani orphan to become one of the most successful and feared men ever to walk the Earth.

But it was time to leave.

It was time to get out.

He went to the Continental first, heading straight to Winston’s office. The older man was found at his desk, drinking brandy with his toast and reading through some sort of log when John came in.

“Jonathan.” The Manager says, closing the text, “To what do I owe the surprise?”

John wonders if he would ever be in the office again as he walks down the stairs and over to the desk. He sits in one of the chairs.

“I wanted to talk to you first. Before word inevitably breaks out.”

“Oh?” Winston sits back in his seat, raising a brow.

“I’m getting out.”

He blinks, “Getting out of what, Jonathan?”

“All this. I’m leaving the Underworld.”

Winston is visibly taken aback, again blinking and leaning forward, “You don’t leave the Underworld.”

“I’m going to. I’ve already fulfilled all the markers I’ve ever given. I’ve completed all the contracts assigned to me and I’m not taking any more.”

“And your independent contracts? With the Camorra? With Tarasov?”

“I met with the entire D’Antonio family last night. My contract is closed.”

“And Tarasov?”

John shrugs, “I’m meeting with him next.”

Winston continues to rapidly blink, trying to place it all together. “I don’t understand.”

For John, it’s so simple.

Because the life that always felt out of reach is suddenly close at hand. Because he had something to live for after years of having nothing . Because John didn’t want to be covered in blood when he picked up his crying child.

“Helen’s pregnant.”

“Congratulations.” Winston says, “But that doesn’t mean you have to leave the fold. Plenty of assassins become fathers--”

“I don’t want to be in this life anymore.” John says, cutting him off. “Even if she weren’t, I would have come to the same decision. It just expedited it. I want to have time with my Omega before our baby comes. And I want to know, without a doubt, that I will be there for my child. I’m grateful for what this world has provided me but I’m done.”

“You’re serious.” Winston breathes, “Jonathan, you can’t just leave the fold.”

“Why not? Because no one ever has?”

“Regardless of whether or not you’re actively killing, you will always be a target.”

John shrugs a shoulder, “Anyone stupid enough to come after me will get what’s coming to them. And regardless of whether or not I’m killing, my claim on Helen still stands. She’ll be protected, our children grandfathered in.”

“Until they turn eighteen and are unleashed onto the world with no training. The facilities that we have here--”

“Are wonderful.” John interrupts again, “But I would prefer to train my children on my own. I’ve thought this through, Winston. Helen and I have discussed it. I won’t be changing my mind.”

They sit in silence and Winston downs what is left in his glass of brandy. He shakes his head, incredulously, “Why?”

“I have never been a good man. But I would like to be a good father. A good husband. I think this is the first step.”

“What will you do?”

And John smiles, softly. It’s alarming for Winston to witness. “I’ll retire. Helen wants to keep teaching. She’s actually applied for the position of principal at her school.”

“There’s never been an Omega principal in New York.”

“She would be the first. If she gets it. Which she will.”

John wasn’t afraid to pull every string he had with the school board to vote her in. And Helen was more than willing to let John do his thing. When he had mentioned it, she had shrugged and said, “It’s rigged, anyway. May as well use what I have to my favor.”

“Helen will be the principal.” John says, “And I’ll be a stay-at-home dad.”

At which point, Winston stands up and walks over to the decanter. He doesn’t bother to pour himself another glass, lifting the lid and drinking it straight from the bottle.

When it is empty, Winston looks back. “You are the most efficient assassin I have ever met and you’re about to walk away to become a house husband ?”

John nods, “I am.”

“Changing diapers and cleaning the house?”

“And driving the kids to and from school.” John finishes.

“Am I dreaming?” Winston wonders aloud and John snorts.

“No. You’re not. I don’t expect you, or anyone, to understand. But I’ve spent enough time around death.”

“Jonathan, I adore your Omega but this…”

“This isn’t Helen’s idea.” John interrupts, “It’s mine. And Helen could care less if I leave the Underworld or if I stay.”

At the look of utter defeat on Winston’s face, John takes pity on him. “We’re still in the area. Maybe one day, I’ll come back. If there’s an impossible contract, maybe I’ll consider it.”

“You’re really leaving.” Winston says, shaking his head. “I’m truly not sure what to say.”

John stands and walks over to the Manager, offering a hand.

Winston takes it.

“I know you don’t understand my decision,” John says, “I know a lot of people are going to have a lot to say when they hear what I’m doing.”

Winston makes a face because that is true. By nightfall, the entire Continental will be abuzz about John Wick’s decision to leave the fold.

“But thank you, for everything. Your guidance has helped me through some difficult times.”

“Of course.” Winston says, and finds himself swallowing, “You are always welcome back at the Continental. And Helen, of course.”

“Thank you.” John repeats, “Give my best to Charon.”

And he leaves.

John Wick walks back down through the lobby, wondering if he’ll ever take Winston up on the offer. Or if this is the last time that he will pass through the halls of the Continental. Bittersweet.

This hotel has been a safe haven for him for decades.

But now, he has something so much better.

He ignores the stares, as he always does, and steps back onto the street. The valet excuses himself to get John’s car and John lets out a breath.

And he doesn’t look back.

…

John hasn’t been to Tarasov’s office since that fateful day, nearly a month ago, when a little Omega had forced her way into the compound to scream at Viggo Tarasov.

The memory brings a smile to his face as he knocks once on Tarasov’s office door and enters.

Tarasov looks up at him in surprise, a flash of fear in his eyes, making John nearly roll his own.

“Rasslab’tes.” Relax. John tells him, standing before the desk. There is a bottle of vodka and an assortment of glasses. John flips the glasses upright and pours two drinks.

He pushes one towards Tarasov and sits down with his own.

“To what do I owe this unexpected visit?” Tarasov asks.

“I want my contract dissolved. I’ll forfeit the remainder of my money and pay you back for this half of the year.”

If Winston was shocked, Tarasov is confused.

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m leaving.” John says, simply. “The fold, the Underworld. I’m leaving.”

“No, no, you’re on retainer.”

“I was . I’m forfeiting the rest of the money in exchange for the dissolution of my contract.”

“You signed that contract, in front of the High Table. In front of witnesses. Until that contract is complete, you are mine to use and--”

“I signed that contract with your Uncle. I am more than willing to go above your head for this, Viggo, but I’m offering you the chance, right now, to part with me on peaceful terms.”

“Where exactly are you going?” Viggo asks, leaning forward.

“I’m retiring.”

Viggo barks out a laugh. “Retiring? There is no retiring.”

John downs his shot before carefully slamming the crystal back to the desk, face down.

“I’m retiring, Viggo.” John repeats, “And that means, one way, or another, I’m leaving. Now,” John leans forward, “After that stunt you tried to pull with my Omega at the Continental, you’ve been very fortunate that I haven’t pursued any course of revenge. Of course, I suppose it was revenge enough, being threatened at knifepoint by the very Omega you were trying to intimidate. In front of half the Continental.

“Now your wealth and your status gives you a certain degree of anonymity when it comes to such things" John continues, "and the people in New York respect that. But it would be a shame if it reached your Uncle, the way you threatened a sweet, harmless Omega, only to flee from the scene when she pulled a knife.”

“Are you blackmailing me?”

“At the moment, I’m threatening you. With blackmail. I could kill you but, frankly, I don’t want to deal with the backlash.”

Viggo has turned red and has tensed up immensely. “This puts us in a difficult position, John.”

“Indeed, it does.” John agrees.

“You want out and you cannot break a contract witnessed by the High Table.”

“But I can be released from a contract at any time. And I assure you, Viggo, I am getting out.”

Viggo considers this. “I could not… simply let you out of a contract. It would appear too weak. Perhaps, you could perform a favor for me and we could simply call it… even. It may seem a little daunting, but if anyone could accomplish it, it would be you.”

John inclines his head. “What do you have in mind?”

Viggo drums his fingers on his desk, “It’s a bit of an impossible task…”

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