#shout out to my father who started pacing and muttering “they’ll get back together it’s okay

[ria-air]

*emerges stumbling out of the wreckage* oh yea I watched good omens…oh yea I’m feeling totally normal about it *leans on the doorframe casually but misses and crumbles to the floor in tears*

[screamingatanemptyroom]

One Shot Werewolf Story

So... first of all, Next part of PFTS should be coming out soon. It's going to take some work to make sure that I pull all the threads that's I've placed in all the worlds together without plot holes, so apologize for how long it's taking. Will probably finish this last world in 2-3 parts, with possibly 1 or two extra parts from Liam and the Traveler's perspective.

Now, back to the story at hand. About a week ago, I wandered into the werewolf side of Wattpad. It was very... interesting. Never written about werewolves before. Thought it might be fun to try my own using my own style. (Women who constantly think they aren't pretty or good enough for the man, men who force physical intimacy and growl "mine" aren't really going to work for me.)

Anyways, It's about a 13k oneshot. It's a bit out of my norm, so I hope you guys enjoy! (Also I would love to hear ideas on what to title this.)

Here it is:

________________________

“I can’t believe you read this garbage!” Alyssa’s coworker held up the book in her hand, staring at it with disgust. “What do you see in books like this, anyways?”

Alyssa sighed, looking up at the book in question. The cover showed a shirtless muscular man holding a busty woman while scowling at the camera, with the title written across the top in bright orange words: “The Alpha’s Timid Mate.”

“I don’t read it for fun.” She muttered, reaching up and snatching the book back. Opening the large roller suitcase behind her, she found its place among the hundreds of other werewolf books and put it away carefully.

“Then what is it?” Her coworker asked with a tone of disbelief.

“Research.”

“Really? Research? For what? When your werewolf boyfriend shows up out of nowhere? “ She let out a derisive snort. “Sure.”

“…You don’t understand.”

She doesn’t understand us. The wolf in Alyssa’s head spoke up silently.

“That’s what I said.”

Can we eat her? Her wolf seemed excited by the idea.

“No. You know we can’t. You don’t even really want to. You’re just acting out because you’re upset I won’t let you watch horror movies any more.”

I am not acting out! But since you mentioned it… bring back the horror movies!

“No.”

“What are you talking about?” Her coworker frowned; confused by the conversation she could only hear half of.

Turning to her briefly, Alyssa shrugged. “Sorry, I’m just having a small discussion. I’ll be free to talk shortly.”

“Don’t bother.” The girl walked away, whispering under her breath. “Freak.”

Should have just eaten her.

“Wolves don’t even eat people. Stop pretending.”

How do you know? Maybe WEREwolves DO eat people! You have no clue! You haven’t found a pack yet. Even though you PROMISED!

“I know, I know.” Alyssa rubbed her forehead tiredly. “It’s harder than I thought it would be.”

I’m lonely and bored! I want to go run! I want a pack!

“Anything else, Your Highness? A bone on a silver platter?”

The wolf paused at that, pouting quietly … I’m hungry. Feed us something tasty.

“That I can do. We’ll eat on our lunch break.”

Steak?

“…We’ll see.”

As her wolf silently cheered, the door to the bookstore she was tending opened. A strange smell reached her nose. Mint and pine along with another scent she couldn’t quite place.

Alyssa looked up and was startled. The man who walked in looked like he had stepped off the cover of one of her werewolf books. Muscular, handsome… his brown hair just long enough to frame his green eyes. And tall… Alyssa had always known she was short, but never felt quite so at a disadvantage height wise as she did at the man’s approach.

He looks like the lead from book #298. Her wolf suggested in an interested tone.

“I was thinking book #645, but I see your point.”

Why do you think he’s here?

“I don’t know.”

As he moved closer, his gaze meeting her own, Alyssa stepped back, the sound of her wolf’s growl filling her mind.

HE’S A WEREWOLF! … even better, he smells strong… an ALPHA? QUICK, MATE HIM!

An alpha? Crap. Alyssa had done enough research to know that was bad news. “Look here, missy, I am not assaulting some stranger just because…”

Then let’s switch over to wolf so I can do it!

“No!”

“Excuse me…” The man spoke up, his voice hesitant and trailing off.

Alyssa turned and hurried out the back. Passing through the bookshelves, she heard someone following close behind, and picked up the pace. The door squeaked loudly as she forced it open, slamming against the wall as she broke out into a run towards the back alley.

“Wait!” The man’s voice called out.

Seeing that they were now alone, she stopped in her tracks, and turned, more irritated than nervous. “What?”

“…” He seemed thrown off by her sudden change, but shook his head, studying her closely. The man seemed to recognize something, and moved quickly to stand next to her. “You’re…” His eyes widened, and he reached out to grab her. “A werewolf? My mate?!”

YES! I knew it! Her wolf’s scream of excitement echoed in her mind.

Alyssa sighed tiredly, reaching into her bag. “Well, crap.”

________________________

It had been a terrible day.

Lewis listened to his family arguing, wishing for the thousandth time that he wasn’t in charge.

“Nightfang’s pack could wipe us out!” Gary, his Beta, slammed his fist on the table, the force of it scattering plates and cups.

Lewis’s mother stood up, and despite her height only coming only to the enormous man’s chin he shrunk down in fear. “…Did you just mess up my kitchen?”

“…”

“Then you’re gonna be a good boy and clean that up right now, yes?” She raised an eyebrow. “Or you won’t have to worry about that Nightfang pack. There won’t be enough of you left for them to fight over once I’m through.”

“…I’ll clean it up right away, Ma’am.”

“That’s what I thought.” She turned to Lewis, patting his shoulder comfortingly. “What’s you plan to deal with this, dear?”

“My plan?” His voice came out slightly more stressed than he meant it to.

“Well, you’re the alpha. Your father left it to you to protect us. “

“Yes. Of course… a plan… which I definitely have.”

Gary and his mate Berta glanced at each other from the other side of the table.

“He doesn’t have a plan.”

“Did you really expect him to?”

“Hey!” At Lewis’s hurt exclamation, Gary shrugged.

“No offense, Alpha, but since your broth… since Nightfang left and took half the pack with him, things have been a little disorganized. You have to admit that’s true.”

Lewis walked over to the window of the cabin, leaning on the sill and staring up at the cloudy sky. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. We were supposed to help each other. Help the pack. But now it’s all just one huge mess and I’m the only one left to take care of it.

Hey, you’re not alone! His wolf’s irritated voice burst out. I’m always here. We’re stuck together for life!

I’m aware. He chuckled quietly. Glad to have you, Buddy.

So… Can we go find our mate now?

You know we can’t. There could be an attack any day now. Besides, I’ve already visited all the packs within driving distance. She’s not there.

Maybe she’s human, like our mom. We should go to town and find her.

Yeah, just go to town and pick up a mate like going to the grocery store to pick up milk. No problem with that.

She’s probably waiting for us! She’s wondering what’s taking us so long to find her. What if she thinks we can’t provide for her? Hurry, you have to find her…. Bring steak… no… four steaks… fatty ones! It will show that we can feed her… make her fat! She’ll definitely want to mate with us then!

Nothing turns women on more than shoving red meat in their face and telling them that you’ll help them gain weight.

Like you would know? Who have you dated? Regale me with tales of your vast experience.

Hey! You haven’t dated either.

I have instincts, at least.

“Lewis?” Gary’s voice broke him from his silent talk with his wolf.

He turned back “We’ll tighten up the patrol schedule.” He rubbed his forehead.

“It will mean giving up territory.”

“I’m aware.” The words came out as a growl. Territory was everything. In the old days it was a pack’s survival. The instinct to protect it at all costs remained, but Lewis had no choice. “Their safety matters more.”

The pack has to be protected first.

Agree. His wolf sounded unhappy, but stood by him, as always.

“Alright then. Continue with training, and preparing for if Nightfang brings his pack for war.” Lewis sighed. “Hopefully they’ll wait until the colder weather passes.”

Although it might be just delaying the inevitable.

“You are all dismissed.” As he stood up, however, his mother stopped him with a smile.

“Can you pick up some milk, dear? I’m out.”

“… Sure, Mom.” He held back a laugh thinking about his conversation with his wolf, knowing that no one else would get the joke. Maybe I’ll pick up my mate while I’m there.

He headed into town.

As he parked his car and walked towards the supermarket, however, his wolf suddenly started shouting in his head.

She’s here!

Lewis frowned. Who? Nightfang or one of his followers?

No, you idiot! Our mate!

Where? He skidded to a halt, staring around frantically. His heart started to race, as he prepared to meet his soulmate… the one he had been waiting for his entire life.

In the bookstore! His wolf wasn’t much better, barely able to communicate in its excitement.

He opened the door, ignoring the soft chime that sounded out to alert a new customer’s arrival. His eyes scanned the room, trying to spot… something. A familiar face, a special feeling. How do you know if someone is your mate…?

His silent voice trailed off in shock as he stared at… her.

She was beautiful.

Dark curls, the tips just barely brushing her shoulders. She was short… very short. He felt awkwardly tall, wondering if she would dislike his height. She seemed to be packing a book into a suitcase, but then turned to face him.

Her grey eyes widened at the sight of him.

Does she feel it too?

QUICK, FEED HER!

With what?!!! I don’t have any food!

Why didn’t you bring the steaks?!!! Now she’s going to think we’re weak and she’ll starve as our mate! What if she leaves us?!!

Human women don’t need steaks for courtship… watch.

Lewis cleared his throat. “Excuse me…”

She turned and rushed out of the store.

…

…

…You were saying?

…Maybe you were right about the steaks.

He followed her out to the back of the shop, cringing at the suspicious looks that the customers in the shop gave him.

I’m chasing after a girl into a back alley. I’ll be lucky if no one calls the cops.

She’s our mate! We could never hurt her!

They don’t know that. She might not even know that!

To his shock she stopped and turned around once they were out of the store. Placing her hands on her hips, she glared at him. “What?”

“…” She was even more mesmerizing up close. Lewis nervously cleared his throat, stepping closer.

Her scent filled his senses. Lilac and spring and… wolf?

She’s a werewolf! That’s awesome! Let’s shift and show her how strong our wolf form is. It’s much better looking than the human look.

“You’re…” Feeling stunned, he reached out, wanting to touch her, to hold her hand. “A werewolf? My mate?”

This is amazing! His mate, his soulmate was standing right in front of him. Would she be happy too? Was she excited to meet us?

She didn’t seem shocked. Didn’t seem happy either… or angry, or afraid. Her face just showed mild… annoyance?

Does she not feel the bond?

“Well, crap.”

As she spoke out with a matter of fact tone, Lewis’s hand neared her shoulder, only to spasm and drop as he fell to the ground shaking. His mate stood over him, staring down at him blankly, the Taser in her hand still sparking.

Well, crap. He silently echoed his mate’s words as darkness overcame him.

________________________

Alyssa sat on her favorite chair, holding her favorite mug, drinking her favorite tea, wrapped in her favorite blanket, hoping it would improve her mood.

It wasn’t working.

Mostly due to the large man on her living room floor, just now waking up from the effects of her Taser… and the large animal sedative she stuck him with after he went down. He blinked his eyes, seeming confused and disoriented.

He’s adorable. I bet his wolf is good looking! Can you ask him to shift? Her wolf hadn’t shut up since they met the other werewolf.

“Shush. He’s waking up now. It would be rude to ask him before we’ve talked. “

Spoilsport. At least show him all the hamburger meat we have frozen.

“Why would he want to see our hamburger meat?”

THAT will show him how effective we are at gathering food! We can be an asset to his pack! If he doesn’t have a pack he should follow us around, and we can fatten him up! … he’s too skinny.

“He’s not skinny… he’s very muscular.”

What if there’s not enough prey in the winter? His muscles will go away. He should have a nice little layer of fat.

“Do not fatten him up! I like him like this.”

“Excuse me?” The man on her living room floor struggled to sit up. Leaning back against her TV stand, he blinked a few more times, obviously still fighting off the tranquilizer. Looking around, he just seemed more confused. “Where am I?”

“My home.” Alyssa told him, taking another sip of her tea.

“Ah.” He paused, awkwardly shifting his weight and raising his hands which were tied together with silver chains, like his ankles. “Why am I tied up?”

“…” She stared at him silently a few moments. “You’re a werewolf.”

“…Yes. So are you?”

“You said I was your mate.”

He blushed at that, avoiding eye contact. “Sorry. I know that was awkward. I was surprised. I’ve been looking for years since I reached adulthood.”

“You’re an alpha?”

“Yes.” Straightening his spine, he forced a cocky looking grin. “A strong alpha of a great pack.”

“So now you know why you’re tied up.”

“…pardon?”

Alyssa rolled her eyes. “I’ve done enough research to know when an alpha finds his mate, it tends to get physical… and non-consensual… real quick.”

He still seemed confused. “Research?”

She set down her tea and blanket and dragged over the enormous roller suitcase. Opening it, she displayed hundreds of paperback romance books. She pulled one out, showing off the cover, which showed a half-naked muscular man holding a woman tightly as she half-heartedly pushed him away.

The bound man looked at the picture. “The Reluctant Mate of an Alpha? What is this?”

“There are 983 books on werewolves in my possession.” She pulled out her notebook, quickly flipping to the “alpha” section. “88% of them feature an alpha werewolf as the male lead… and 92% of those characters force their mate to engage in physical intimacy… mostly hugging and kissing… within the first few minutes of meeting them.”

“You… you’re getting your information from romance books?” He looked horrified. “Where’s your pack?”

“No pack. Abandoned as a baby. I grew up in the foster system.”

A low angry growl sounded from his chest. “What pack abandons a child?!”

“The kind of pack that I’m probably better off being abandoned than raised by.” She tapped the book again. “Back to the fact that I’m apparently the mate to an alpha wolf.”

“Not apparently!” He looked distressed still. “You ARE! Can’t you sense it?”

She ignored him, putting the book back carefully. “You know that alpha wolves aren’t even a natural thing… only happens with wolves in captivity. Wolves in the wild tend to form family units. “

“…But we aren’t normal wolves? We wouldn’t have the exact same pack structure.”

“Exactly. Thus I can’t use my wolf encyclopedia to gain information.” She frowned. “That would have been preferable, honestly. I don’t really like the alphas in these stories.”

If you’re not going to mate with him… can we eat him?

“Stop asking to eat people. You know the answer.”

Lewis’s eyes grew wide. “Did you say ‘eat PEOPLE?”

“Don’t worry. There’s a strict ‘no eating people’ rule. It’s just a phase she’s gone through since I let her watch 80s horror werewolf flicks. She thinks its funny, but its not. “ She threw her hands up helplessly. “This is WHY we are on a horror movie ban!”

This is unfair!

“It’s perfectly fair! Even if you ignore the moral implications, you wouldn’t even like the taste of human flesh!”

What about hot sauce? Didn’t you say hot sauce makes every thing taste better?

“Yes… hot sauce does make everything taste better.”

“Wait… are you going to EAT me?” Lewis questioned with a panicked tone, scooting backwards closer to the door.

“No. I told you, there’s a firm ‘no eating people’ rule in place. We’re done discussing that.”

“But…”

“We’re discussing whether or not hot sauce would make your flesh taste better if we ate you… hypothetically.”

“Oh.” He thought it over. “I do like hot sauce. But I don’t think wolves do.”

“No. It would give them diarrhea, probably.” Alyssa nodded. “See. Even hot sauce wouldn’t help.”

Then if we aren’t going to eat him, can we please just MATE with him?

“No eating. No mating.”

“Wait, can we not put a strict no mating rule in place just yet? At least not a permanent one?” He paused. “Also, if I promise not to engage in any alpha behaviors like you see in your ‘research’, can I please be untied?”

“…” She studied him warily. “I suppose.”

“Great!” He held out his wrists, smiling with relief as she started to untie him.

“I have plenty of tranquilizer anyways.” She muttered.

“…pardon?”

The bonds slipped free. The man rubbed his wrists, careful to not make any sudden movements. Relieved by his apparent honesty in not trying anything, Alyssa headed back to her chair and wrapped herself back in her blanket.

Grabbing her tea, she took a sip of the lukewarm liquid and smiled. “So what brought the great alpha into my place of work today? Were you looking for me?”

________________________

Lewis was unsure how to answer his mate. Panicking, he said the first thing he thought of.

“Actually I was going to go buy milk.”

She raised an eyebrow. “In the bookstore?”

“Yes! I mean, no!” He covered in his face. “I was on my way to the supermarket, when my wolf… sensed you.”

She tilted her head, seeming more interested. “Your wolf? What’s he like?”

TELL HER I AM VERY STRONG!

“Umm… he’s strong…”

TELL HER I CAN MAKE HER FAT!!

No!

How else will she know I can provide food for her and our children?!

No. I’m not saying we’ll make her fat!

ITS IMPORTANT! TELL HER HOW FAT WE CAN MAKE HER!

“Are you okay?”

“WE’LL MAKE YOU REALLY FAT!” Lewis blurted out… and then stared at the ground in embarrassed horror.

“…” There was a long silence.

“My wolf says that’s very attractive.” She shook her head. “She wants you to know that we have several pounds of hamburger in our freezer and that we are happy to contribute food to you and your family.”

She’s smart and stores plenty of meat in her freezer! Please convince her to stay as our mate!

“So would you like to come visit our pack? He asked, wincing as she pulled what appeared to be a miniature Taser out of thin air. “Just visiting! No mating!” He relaxed as she hid the Taser away again “…Where were you even keeping that?”

“Secret pocket in the sleeve…. It’s not my only one, so don’t think I’ve given you any advantage.”

Lewis tried to think of something that would appeal to her. “I know you don’t have a pack… it would be a chance to get to know others like you… “

“… I would be able to refine my research…” She muttered, staring down at her notebook. “Plus my wolf really wants to…”

SHE’S GOING TO SAY YES!

Shush!

“Sure. Why not?” She shrugged, holding out her hand. “I guess we should officially meet if we’re going back to your pack together. I’m Alyssa.”

Alyssa! Her name is pretty!

“Nice to meet you Alyssa.” Lewis smiled brightly. “I’m Lewis.” He shook her hand, trying to stay calm at the shocking feeling of touching her. It was almost painful, as if every cell in his body were screaming at him that he’s met his soulmate. Overwhelmed, confused, he glanced over at his mate, only to see her calm expression.

Does she not feel this? Are we just delusional?

She’s our mate! Of course she feels it!

She’s not acting like it. Maybe we’re wrong? Lewis felt a stabbing pain in his chest at the thought. She was his mate. He had waited his whole life to meet her. He belonged to her.

What if she doesn’t want us?

… His wolf didn’t have an answer to that.

Maybe she can sense our weakness… our failure.

No… we’re not weak! We’re alpha of a strong pack!

That’s fallen apart because most of them felt I wasn’t the best one for the job.

We have to be strong. We can’t fail our pack or our mate. Don’t show weakness!

I’ll try.

Lewis forced a calm smile as he looked at Alyssa. “Should we head over and meet the pack?”

“Hmm… Aren’t you forgetting something?” She angled her head, studying him.

“What?”

“Didn’t you say you were on your way to pick up milk when you met me?”

“OH SHOOT!” He jumped to his feet. “I’m glad you said something! You saved my life!”

“By remembering milk?”

“You don’t realize how horrible my death would be at my mom’s hands if I had forgotten it.”

“…” She raised an eyebrow, a slight smile at the corner of her mouth. “You’re welcome, then.”

I like her smile! Let’s help make her smile more!

Agree.

Lewis ran to pick up some milk while she packed a bag for the trip. When he returned, he was shocked by the number of suitcases she had brought with her.

“Are all these clothes?”

“Don’t be silly.” She looked at him like he was an idiot. “It’s my research.”

He was almost afraid to ask, but felt he had to. “… They’re all filled with werewolf romance books… aren’t they?

“Not just books… “ Alyssa seemed a little defensive. “There’s some weapons. And a few changes of clothes.”

“If you’re staying a few days at least, do you need to take off work?”

She shook her head. “No need.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. “

“…Okay.” He didn’t want to pry. At least not yet. Maybe one day she’ll trust us enough to tell us more.

He packed her bags into the car, glad for his superhuman strength as he lifted the suitcases filled to the brim with books. Alyssa sat in the passenger seat, clutching a notebook and a small messenger bag, which also appeared to be filled with books. As they headed outside of town, an awkward silence fell between them.

Say something witty! His wolf finally lost patience with Something that will make her think we’re smart!

Open to any suggestions, Buddy. I’m having trouble thinking straight with our mate so close, much less think of something smart to say!

Aren’t you supposed to be the more intelligent half? I’m supposed to be the stronger one.

You’re the one always saying that wolves are super intelligent creatures and I should listen to you more!

Now we’re being silent for too long! What if she thinks we’re an idiot?!

You’re not helping…

“So how do werewolves mate?” Alyssa asked calmly, the question almost causing Lewis to swerve off the road in shock.

“…”

…

“Sorry, I don’t think I heard you. Could you repeat the question?”

“How do werewolves mate?”

… I think I preferred the awkward silence.

No! This is good! She’s showing an interest in mating!

“Umm… Not differently than humans… you learned about that in health class, right?” He desperately hoped he would not have to have a “birds and bees” talk with his mate right after meeting her.

“Oh.” She sounded slightly disappointed. “So we don’t mate in wolf form?”

I’m game.

SHUT UP.

“Typically no… I mean I guess it’s possible…” He felt himself turn bright red, feeling super uncomfortable. “But usually its in human form… at least from my understanding of what mated couples say.”

“Hmm..” She seemed to be listening to something. “No, I don’t think his wolf is impotent. I think it’s a cultural thing.”

HER WOLF THINKS I’M IMPOTENT, WE’RE SHIFTING NOW!

We are currently driving down a highway! We are not shifting any time soon! Besides, what on earth do you think you’re going to do in wolf form that’s going to convince her otherwise?

I’ll show her my genitals, to reassure her.

THAT DOES NOT REASSURE WOMEN! ARE YOU TRYING TO GET US TASED?!

“So I bet that means that werewolf pregnancy follows human rules then. “ She sighed, frowning while pulling out her notebook and writing a few things down. “There was only 3% of books that presented mating and pregnancy while in wolf form, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“… I see.”

“How long does pregnancy last? 19% of the books depict a shorter pregnancy cycle, but I wasn’t sure if it was just to get the plot to move faster.”

“Normal 9 months.”

“Number of children per pregnancy?”

“One… unless you have twins.”

She groaned, leaning back in her chair. “So no advantages at all? So disappointing.”

SHE’S DISAPOINTED! TELL HER TWINS RUN IN OUR FAMILY! WE’LL GIVE HER SO MANY CHILDREN!

“Twins run in our family!” Lewis nearly shouted.

“Really?” Alyssa studied him, looking slightly interested. “Do you have a twin?”

Great. I really had to bring HIM up.

“I do… but he left the pack.”

“Does that happen often?”

“No.”

“I see…” She made a few more notes. “Obviously the villain.”

“…” I mean, she’s not wrong. “Any other questions?” Please be something easy.

“Will mating with another werewolf change my menstrual cycle?”

“…”

…

Do you know?

Nope. Nothing in the instincts about this. Do you?

Nope.

He cleared his throat. “Sorry, I don’t know the answer to that question. One of the pack might be able to answer it. Maybe Bridget? She seems pretty knowledgeable.”

“Bridget? Your sister?”

“No… she’s just one of the warriors in the pack..”

“Hmm…” Alyssa thought that over. “Is she pretty?”

Lewis shrugged. “Seems pretty normal.”

“Do you two get along?”

“She follows orders, so I guess?”

“I see.” He could hear her pen scratching against paper again. “The female side character who will try to chase we away, maybe? How exciting.”

“…” Lewis decided he didn’t want to ask anything about it. For the sake of his sanity if nothing else.

They spent the rest of the car ride in silence.

________________________

Alyssa felt increasingly nervous the closer they got to pack territory.

I think we’re almost there. This area smells different.

“Different how?”

It smells like our mate! I like it!

“Hmm… Do you think he pees on trees to mark his territory?”

Isn’t that normal?

“It’s normal for wolves… do you think he does it in human form too?”

“I DON’T MARK TERRITORY AS A HUMAN!” Lewis spoke out frantically. “Can you stop talking about me like I’m not here?!”

She turned to him, curious by his reaction. “Don’t you talk to your wolf?”

“All the time, but I do it SILENTLY!” He paused. “Do you not know how to?”

“Oh I know how to, I just think it’s really rude to leave her out of the general conversation. She’s here too you know.”

“That makes sense… I guess…” He sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair. “Well, I assume you know since you were commenting on the scent markings, but yes, we’re in pack territory. “

Alyssa nodded, her heart rate increasing slightly. She didn’t like this. Going to unfamiliar places. Meeting new people. Especially people who may have a culture or rules that she didn’t understand. They might not like her.

How could they not love us? We’re a strong, beautiful female… at least when we’re in wolf form.

“Hey!”

We’ll be just fine.

“I hope so.” She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves.

A warm hand hesitantly grasped her own. She felt an electric shock traveling up her fingers from the touch, but kept her face expressionless. “Are you okay?” Lewis’s voice was quiet, a comforting sound.

I like his voice. His touch his very warm!

“If you’re worried… I know that you might not believe me, but the pack is very friendly. You’ll feel very welcome.”

“In 42% of the books the pack is welcoming to a stranger… usually because she’s the alpha’s mate. In the rest they are either wary of the unknown person, or distrustful or unfriendly. “ She thought it over. “I guess it’s not bad odds.”

The car came to a stop. Lewis squeezed her hand one last time, and then stepped out, getting her suitcases from the trunk and back seat. Alyssa stared down at her now empty hand, feeling frustrated.

I trust him.

“You trust everyone. It’s my job to keep us safe.” She got out of the car, staring around at the area. There were several nice houses, all scattered far from each other. The place was quiet, peaceful, surrounded by woods. She liked it.

He won’t hurt us. He can’t. It would be like hurting himself.

“You’d be surprised how low people can sink if they want.”

No I wouldn’t. I lived through all the same experiences with you. But wolves do better with a family. We’ll do better with a pack.

“I haven’t agreed to that yet.”

We’ll see.

Lewis carried her many bags without seeming stressed by the weight. “I’ll bring these into the main house. Do you want to come along? Or you can wait here, I can show you around.”

She glanced around at the forest around her. “I’ll wait here.”

“Ok. I’ll be right back.” He looked slightly worried about separating from her, but after a brief hesitation, he walked away.

Alyssa strolled around the clearing by the car, feeling calmer as she took in the fresh air.

I like it here. We should live here.

“We’ll see.”

Also mate Lewis before another female gets him.

“I don’t think that’s how it works. In 82% of the books, being mates meant soul mates. Only small exceptions made for if mates rejected each other and such… for the drama, I suppose. “

Don’t take chances. Even with an impotent wolf we should claim him sooner rather than later. He has fatty steaks in his house. I can smell them.

“That’s what’s important to you? And I told you, I don’t think his wolf is impotent…”

“WHO ARE YOU?” A strident voice called out.

Alyssa turned to see a beautiful young woman walking towards her with a suspicious expression. She had shorter, curly blond hair and bright green eyes, towering over her in height. Alyssa sighed slightly as she realized she would probably be the shortest werewolf here by a good amount.

We’re short but feisty! Don’t underestimate us!

“I’m Alyssa.” She waved cheerfully. “Who are you?”

“…” The young woman seemed confused. “Bridget.”

The bitch side character! Maybe she’ll shout at us to “stay away from her man!”

“You don’t know that. Maybe she’s nice. She’s pretty.”

She is pretty… but it would be more fun if she were hysterical and tried to scare us off.

“…Who are you talking to?”

“My wolf.” Alyssa grinned at her. “She’s wondering if you are going to scream at us and tell us to stay away from Lewis.”

The woman seemed stunned. “Why would I do that?”

“All the books have it.” She pulled out her notebook and spread out the books from her messenger bag. Holding up one where a woman in a ripped dress stood next to a large wolf titled “The Alpha’s Runaway Love”, she pointed to a smaller, angry looking woman in the background of the cover. “See… in 79% of these stories there’s a strong female side character who is desperately in love with the alpha despite him being mated to the main character and tries to drive her away.”

“… Are those… romance novels….?”

“But I really hope you aren’t that character type. I think you seem like an awesome older sister type.” She stepped closer, which highlighted the height difference between them. “We’ve always wanted a cool, pretty older sister like you. “

“…” Bridget seemed genuinely overwhelmed. “Umm… first of all… I don’t want to scare you away from Lewis… I grew up with the guy. He wet the bed once when I slept over when we were five… ruined my favorite princess sheets…”

Alyssa started taking notes.

“I was just curious about who you were…” She rested a hand on Alyssa’s head, almost seemingly despite herself. “Are you Lewis’ mate?”

“Yep! He found me in a bookstore.” She paused. “Do you know if mating with a werewolf changes your menstrual cycle? I asked Lewis, but he seemed like he was having a seizure and said he didn’t know.”

“…” Bridgett’s face spasmed at that, she seemed to be holding back a laugh.

“Also… I brought hamburger meat… do you want some? “

“So…” Bridget’s voice trailed off.

“So?” Alyssa tilted her head, confused.

“SO CUTE!!!” Alyssa was pulled into an enormous bear hug, squeezed almost uncomfortably tight as Bridget continued to yell. “YOU’RE ADOPTED!”

“What are you doing with my mate?” Lewis’s strained voice made Alyssa want to look over, but she was still trapped in the hug.

“She’s my little sister now, Alpha.” Bridget’s voice was calm, but stern. “If anything happens to her, I will destroy you.”

Alyssa smiled at her as the tall woman set her down. “Really?”

“Really.” Bridget grinned back. “I’ve always wanted a sister too.”

“Awesome!”

As the two girls began chatting excitedly, Lewis cleared his throat. “Guys? I hate to break up the love here, but the pack is gathering to meet Alyssa.”

He walked over towards Alyssa, stopping in his tracks as Bridget grabbed her first and tugged her in the correct direction. “Come on, let’s hurry up! I can’t wait to introduce you to them!”

“She’s MY mate! I want to introduce her!”

“Too bad, so sad, bedwetter! If you weren’t so slow maybe you could have grabbed her first.” She laughed.

“Hey, you promised never to mention that again! What if you scare my mate away?!”

“Even better, she’ll just live with me and my family.”

As they moved, Alyssa tapped her arm, leaning close. “Is this really okay?”

“Is what okay?”

“I mean… he’s your alpha… is it okay to be like this with him?”

Bridget smiled. “Don’t worry. He’s a good alpha… a strong fighter, a capable leader… but he’s very kind. He prefers his pack feel comfortable enough to joke around with him. Says if they can trust him enough to make fun of him that it means they’ll trust him enough to have the uncomfortable conversations as well.”

He’s a good leader.

“Maybe…”

Let’s mate him!

Alyssa groaned at the expected response from her wolf, shaking her head slowly.

They arrived in a clearing in the woods, where twenty or thirty people had gathered. Everyone looked very different, with skin tones, eye and hair color varying widely from person to person. People of all ages chatted excitedly, watching their approach. They did have one thing in common though:

They were all tall.

We’re… tall… too.

“We’re short.” Feeling uncomfortable, she hid behind Bridget, who growled at the crowd.

“Don’t you guys make my sister uncomfortable! Sit down, you’re scaring her.”

The crowd looked very confused at that, but sat down on the grass anyways. Besides the three of them, only one man remained standing. He was enormous, a head taller than even Lewis, who Alyssa already considered very tall. He was broad as well as tall, his muscles nearly bursting out of the flannel shirt he was wearing. His face was covered in a bushy beard, his dark hair cropped close.

Overall Alyssa thought he looked very intimidating. She watched as he approached, a hand grasping her hidden Taser in her sleeve.

“This is my Beta Gary.” Lewis’s calm voice was reassuring, but she refused to relax her vigilance as the large man bent down to look her in the eye. “Gary, this is my mate, Alyssa.”

“Hey there, Alyssa.” The hair-covered face broke into a friendly smile. “We’ve been hoping Lewis would find a nice mate for a while now. Glad you’re here. If anyone gives you trouble you let me know, I’ll knock a few heads in.”

Alyssa grinned back at him. “Nice to meet you, Gary. You’re really large.”

Ask him if we can sit on his shoulder! I want to be tall!

“It would be rude to ask to sit on his shoulder right after meeting him. We’ll ask him later.”

But…

Before her wolf could complain too much, Gary reached out and picked her up easily, placing her on one broad shoulder and steadying her with a single hand. “How’s this?”

Alyssa looked around. “This is GREAT!” She laughed.

Bow before us mortals! WE ARE TALL!

“My wolf is very happy right now. She was sad that we were so much shorter than everyone.”

HEY! You were sad too!

“Well you can ride on my shoulder anytime you want.” Gary laughed. “My mate Berta and I always wanted kids, but…” his voice trailed off slightly. “Well, anyways, feel free to come to us if you ever need help.”

“OR ME!” Bridget burst out. “I’ve already claimed her as my little sister!”

Lewis stared at the three of them, looking slightly tired. “Do I get any time with her as her mate?”

Gary and Bridget glanced at each other. “… We’ll see.”

Putting Alyssa down in front of the pack, Gary winked at her as if to reassure her before taking his place standing behind the Alpha. Lewis stepped forward, his manner becoming stronger, more confident as he addressed the crowd.

“Everyone, this is my mate Alyssa. She’s one of us, but she doesn’t have a pack. So I expect you all to make her feel safe and welcome.” He looked around, smiling as everyone nodded obediently.

“Welcome!”

“We’re glad you’re here!”

“Maybe Lewis will stop moping so much now!”

The cheerful voices of the pack made Alyssa feel calmer. She waved at them, speaking up. “Hey everyone! Like Lewis said, I’m Alyssa. I don’t know much about werewolves… I’ve only grown up around humans, but I’m excited to learn more.”

They seem nice.

Her wolf was happy about the packs’ reactions. No one seemed thrown off by her introduction. No one was glaring at her or even seeming suspicious of her.

It’s a good thing, right?

Before she could respond, Lewis spoke up, distracting her. “Let’s take you back to meet my mom.”

________________________

Lewis was relieved that the pack introduction went so well. Not that he was overly surprised; most of the more disagreeable pack members had left in the split with his brother. Who was left were either the ones too reasonable to be sucked into his rhetoric, or the very loyal ones to himself or his father.

Either way, I guess it’s a good thing.

He led his mate towards his house, breathing a small sigh of relief when Bridget and Gary didn’t insist on following. He liked them both a lot, but they could be a lot. Especially since they seemed to have instantly bonded with Alyssa.

Just admit it. We’re jealous. We want to bond with Alyssa too.

We don’t know what all she’s been through. She was abandoned by her pack as an infant. Her only knowledge of us doesn’t paint Alpha’s in a good light… or at least they don’t seem to. Lewis resolved to get his hands on some of those books and read through this. It might help us understand how she views us… and how to reassure her.

I like her. His wolf’s voice was filled with a patient care. Even if she doesn’t like us just yet, I hope she’s happy and feels safe here.

I do too. Lewis desperately wanted to reassure his mate. He could feel her anxiety through the bond. Even when she was smiling she didn’t feel safe. But he didn’t know how to help just yet.

They reached the house, and as they were about to enter, the door swung open and Lewis’s mother rushed out. Making a beeline for Alyssa, she hugged her tightly, grinning.

“I’M SO HAPPY YOU’RE HERE!”

Alyssa seemed shocked at the sudden appearance of his mother. Lewis tried to step in. “Mom, don’t scare her…”

“Finally someone normal sized!” Alyssa burst out, hugging his mother back.

“I know, right? They’re all way too tall!” Lewis’s mother stepped back, patting her head fondly. “I forgive them since they’re all such good people, but still, I’m happy to have someone I don’t have to strain my neck to look at.”

“Mom, this is Alyssa, my mate.”

“I figured as much dear. You’ve never paid so much attention and care to a single person before. “ She grabbed Alyssa’s hand. “Come in, I made food.”

Our mother understands! She’ll show our mate how much food we can provide!

Alyssa glanced at him. “My wolf wants to make sure that the hamburger meat we brought got put in the fridge.”

“I took care of it.” Lewis puffed out his chest, feeling accomplished.

His mother just shook her head. “Boys. Why don’t you take her bags up to the room next to mine while I get her something to pad her stomach?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He grabbed the suitcases full of books, weapons and clothes and rushed up the stairs. Her room was on the opposite end of the house from him, right next to his mother’s rooms.

Why is she staying so far away from us? His wolf whined in his head. What if something happens? How will we protect her?

She already doesn’t trust us. Hopefully the living arrangements will make her less nervous. If she doesn’t like it, she might go stay with Bridget instead. Do you want that?

No. Stupid Bridgett. She brought up the bedwetting incident. Our childhood shame bared in front of our mate! What if she doesn’t like us now?

We were young. I can’t imagine she would hold it against us… although yes, it is very embarrassing.

As he neared the kitchen once more, he overheard Alyssa and his mother talking. About to announce his arrival, his mouth slammed shut as he heard his mate’s question.

“So Lewis’ brother is a villain, right?”

“…” His mother sighed. “How much has he told you?”

“Just that he has a twin, and he’s not with the pack.”

“Well, I guess you haven’t known each other long… you’ll hear it anyways, might as well be from me, since he’s my son.” She sat down at the counter, rubbing her forehead tiredly.

“I had three children, actually. Twins boys and a younger girl. My husband was the Alpha of the Western pack, and although it’s not set in stone, usually one of the children of the Alpha will inherit the position.”

Lewis could hear Alyssa’s pen moving as she frantically took notes. He silently laughed, even as his chest hurt at the sound of his mother’s disappointed tone, leaning against the wall to hear how she would describe their situation.

“Now, I’m not a werewolf, you know. I’m a human who happened to be mates with a werewolf. So maybe I didn’t instill the idea of pack values as strongly as I could have.” She sighed. “Lewis seemed to get it naturally. He got hurt when he was ten… the first time he transformed, just to protect an elderly pack member who was being attacked. He’s got a large scar on his left elbow from a hunter’s arrow. Werewolves heal well… but the scars remain.”

My other son… Benjamin… he wasn’t nearly as concerned about the pack’s well being. Just obsessed with being strong. Being in charge. My daughter Emily seemed to feel very similar.”

“Seems pretty Alpha-like… at least how the books describe them.”

“But that’s the thing. Alphas SHOULD be strong. My mate was very strong, in fact. But their strength exists to protect and feed the pack. Strength and power for its own sake has no purpose… and often leads down a dangerous pack.”

“…”

“My mate died.” His mother whispered, the pain in her voice breaking Lewis’s heart. “Lung cancer. Even werewolves can die from disease. They heal… but not fast enough for more aggressive wounds or diseases. They’re not immortal.”

“I’m sorry.” Alyssa seemed genuinely concerned. “How did you survive losing your mate?”

“It helps that I’m human.” Her voice was still quiet. “The pain is still there…it’s like a piece of your soul missing. But I had family, pack … people who needed me to keep waking up each morning. And I’m glad I have.”

“So what happened next?”

“My mate’s will left the pack to Lewis.” His mother shrugged, turning back to stir the contents of a pot on the stove. “It was an obvious choice to us. He is strong, careful… puts the pack first.”

“But Benjamin didn’t agree?”

“He rebelled. Said Lewis was weak. Tried to fight him, but was pushed back by the loyal members of the pack. In the end he took almost half the pack with him to start a new one… including my daughter who also thought Lewis was too weak to lead.”

“…” Alyssa was silent. Lewis leaned against the wall, desperately trying to sense his mate’s emotions. Was she disappointed in him? Did she think he was a failure.

“He goes by Nightfang now… his group is our pack’s greatest threat.”

“…” Suddenly in the silent kitchen, Alyssa chuckled. “Seriously? Nightfang? Did he think that was a cool name?”

Lewis’s mother laughed too. “I know, right. I mean, it’s a serious situation and all, but seriously… he sounds like a villain in a Saturday morning cartoon.” She looked over, and chuckled again. “Alright, Lewis. Stop hiding around the corner and come join the conversation.”

Shamefully, Lewis ducked his head and entered the kitchen. He noticed Alyssa didn’t seem surprised by his presence.

She probably can sense when we’re nearby. It means our bond is slightly stronger!

It also means she knows we were eavesdropping like a creep!

Well we were… not like it’s much better if she doesn’t know.

“So…” He spoke up, trying to appear less awkward. “Can I help with dinner at all, Mom?”

She smiled, reaching up high to pat his head as well. “I’m pretty much done. How about after we eat you show her around the territory?”

Alyssa seemed a little more relaxed, to Lewis’s relief. “I’d like that.”

WE GET TO SPEND TIME WITH HER! THIS IS GREAT!

Play it cool! She already knows that half the pack left because we’re too weak to convince them we’re a good Alpha. If we look like an idiot too…

OH SHUT UP! His wolf snapped at it. Don’t pretend you’re not super excited. We’re the same person!

…Stupid wolf.

Silly human.

... Lewis was excited. So excited he could hardly breathe. His mate was right here, in front of him. She was smart, beautiful, friendly… at least to everyone else… more than he could have ever dared to dream of.

I just want her to like us… any ideas?

I still vote for bringing her food or showing her our genitals. .

… Never mind… I’ll think of something.

________________________

A few weeks passed.

Alyssa sat on the cool grass, watching Lewis in wolf form teaching some of the younger pack members how to fight.

“Watch out for each other.” His voice resounded her mind. “You can’t be so focused on the enemy that you lose track of what’s behind you.”

Having never spent any time prior to this visit around other werewolves, she was interested to find that although she did understand some of wolf language – a combination of scents, sounds and body language – the majority of the time werewolves simply spoke through mental communication.

Lewis batted one of the young wolves aside, snapping at another’s flank and using his weight to push a third to the ground, baring his teeth. The fallen wolf whimpered slightly, more with frustration than pain.

“Alpha, I thought we had to focus all of our attention on the attack, and not stop until the enemy was dead?” The youngest of the three, a male wolf named Teddy, finally spoke up, his tail between his legs. “How are we supposed to do that AND watch our backs?”

“Who told you that?” Lewis seemed shocked. “You are nothing without your pack! Only by working together and looking out for each other will you be at your strongest.”

“It was Uncle Ben…mmph” Teddy’s voice was muffled as the other two wolves tackled him.

“Sorry Alpha, he’s a little dumb.” Teddy’s sister Lara apologized, grinding her brother’s muzzle into the dirt with a paw. “Of course we aren’t going to follow what the traitor Nightfang taught us.”

“But LARA…”

“SHUT UP and let me get us out of this, idiot!”

Lewis stared at them for a few minutes, and then laughed silently in our heads. “It’s okay. I know he was in charge of teaching fighting for years. It’s a different strategy, but give my idea a shot before you dismiss it, okay?”

“YES ALPHA!” The three younger wolves shouted in unison.

“…” Alyssa studied Lewis with a thoughtful expression. He was kind enough to the pups, even when they challenged him and brought up his brother’s name. He didn’t lash out, just calmly guiding them forward. If she didn’t know better, she would think the mention of his brother didn’t bother him at all.

But she could feel it.

Behind his kind words, there was a deep agony. Fear, hurt, betrayal. He resented that his brother left the pack, that he split the pack with his leaving. He regretted that he had let his brother teach the pups… that he taught the pups to be killers rather than to defend and protect the pack. Feared being compared to his brother at every turn.

But mostly… he blamed himself. Hated that he wasn’t a strong enough Alpha to force the pack to stay together. He wished desperately that he could be a better leader… more like his father.

Alyssa rubbed her chest idly, feeling a pain in her heart that wasn’t physical but still wishing to ease it. She could sense his self-doubt, his feelings of helplessness, but was unsure what to do with the knowledge.

Over the last few weeks, they had spent a lot of time together. She had come to recognize that he was as kind as he first seemed, very different than what her book research had led her to expect. He was strong… she could see that in every move her made, especially in his wolf form… but he didn’t seem to place his importance on that strength.

His mother had described him well. He was strong, careful… and he put his pack first.

The closer they got, the more she learned about him, the more she could feel through their bond. His emotions, his mental state. She couldn’t hear his thoughts, not unless he was mentally communicating in wolf form. The information she was getting, however, was almost more than she could bear.

It made her terrified to guess what he could sense about her.

That’s how bonding goes. He is our soul mate. We can’t hide from him.

“…” Alyssa ignored her wolf, mad that she was telling the truth.

“Are you okay?” Alyssa looked up at Lewis’s mental question, startled to see his wolf’s face right in front of her own. “Did something upset you?”

“… What would you do if something did?”

“Help you. No matter what.” His mental voice was firm… reassuring.

“What if it was you that upset me?” Alyssa was curious how he would answer that.

“… If I did something, please let me know… I don’t want to hurt you, even by accident.” He paused. “If you don’t feel comfortable telling me… then my mom or Bridget would be happy to listen. And of course beat me up for whatever I did…”

SORRY WE UPSET YOU MATE! WOULD YOU LIKE MEAT?! Startled, Alyssa realized she could hear Lewis’s wolf directly. He sounded a lot like Lewis, but slightly more… straightforward.

TELL HIM WE LIKE MEAT! Alyssa’s wolf shouted with frustration. OR SHIFT SO I CAN TELL HIM MYSELF!

“How can I hear your wolf? I thought that could only happen after mating?”

Lewis shook his head, the motion strange appearing when performed by a wolf. “I’m not sure… I’ve never been mated before… but I think as our bond deepens we’ll hear more. I can’t hear your wolf now… if she’s speaking…”

I AM SPEAKING! TELL HIM I WANT THE STEAK HE HAS IN THE FREEZER!

“…But if you were in wolf form I might. Their control is a little stronger in that form. One day we might be able to hear each other’s wolves even when in human form.”

“…”

We like you, Mate! We think you are smart and pretty and smell nice! We spend a lot of time arguing over what would make you like us! Lewis’s wolf chimed in.

“Shush…” Lewis tried to interrupt, but the wolf kept talking.

I wanted to bring you meat and expose our genitals to reassure you of our virility, but he insisted that would make you mad.

His wolf is smart. Alyssa’s wolf approved. That would have made me happy.

“…Your wolf and my wolf are on the same page. I have no desire to see genitals, though.”

“No worries, there’s a firm ‘no flashing’ rule in place. “

Her stomach rumbled. “Wouldn’t say no to a steak though!”

Hooray! We’ll bring you the tastiest of the steaks!

See, he loves us enough to bring us the best steak! We should mate him now!

Lewis ran behind a tree and shifted, quickly changing into loose fitting shorts and t-shirt. Alyssa had learned the hard way that the pack had very little sense of modesty.

After numbing her brain to the sight of naked people who had transformed back from wolf form multiple times, she had come to somewhat accept it as normal.

She was still glad that Lewis tried to not be naked in front of her. Although she was now realizing that this might have more to do with avoiding his wolf’s desire to show off genitals then anything else.

“Let’s go.” He smiled, the expression causing her heart to skip a quick beat, and held out his hand. After a short hesitation, she took it, feeling as always the thrill that came from touching him.

They walked together in silence.

As they neared the house, Lewis spoke up. “You know everyone likes you here.”

Alyssa tensed up. “But…?”

“No buts. They just like you.” He let out a quiet sigh. “You don’t have to try this hard.”

“…”

“You look relaxed when you’re talking with the pack. You’re smiling and joking around… you’ve even got half of them addicted to those werewolf romance novels… I mean your research…” He chuckled, squeezing her hand with his own. “But I can feel it, Lyss. I can feel how stressed out you are… how hard you’re trying to make them like you.”

“I…” Alyssa started to talk but then fell silent.

I told you he knows us.

“I’m not judging.” He smiled bitterly. “I wish I had met you much earlier. I don’t know what your life has been like leading up to now. I just want you to know that people like you for the weird, lovely person you are. You can try to relax a little.”

Alyssa thought his words over. “Growing up… being liked… it was safer. Especially if you were the weird kid who had a wolf voice in her head. I learned early how to read people, and act the way they wanted. I’ve grown out of it some… it does get very tiring. But I don’t know if I could completely stop, even if I wanted to.”

“That’s okay.” He grinned. “Just know that I care about you... honestly maybe more than that, although it’s just been a few weeks. You never have to try to get on my good side.”

“I don’t think we ever tried to do that.”

We tried to scare him off. And instead he treated us better than anyone else.

He grinned. “Good. Then I guess I got to see a closer side to you than most… even if it was not meant as a compliment.”

Alyssa felt scared by this. His care. His acceptance of her. Even worse by the fact she could feel through the bond that it was completely genuine.

“Don’t let it worry you too much. Let’s just take it a day at a time for now.”

She sighed with relief at his words. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He thought it over for a moment. “Wait? What about your job at the bookstore? You’ve been here two weeks without notice? Do you still have a job?”

“You don’t need to worry about it.”

You’ll have to tell him eventually.

“If you say so.” His expression and mental state were a little sad, but she ignored it.

She would take it one step at a time, just like Lewis suggested.

________________________

Lewis was going a little crazy.

It had been a month. He spent every day at his mate’s side. Every day talking with Alyssa, laughing with her, getting to know her more and more. As they grew closer, he couldn’t help but wish for more.

They had just returned from a run through the forest in their wolf forms. He loved spending time with her wolf as well. She was much smaller than him, with silver fur and grey eyes that saw right through him. Her wolf self was much more open and playful, often pulling him to play or run through the forest. His wolf was enamored with her, yelling out offers to feed her or provide her with pups… or both. Her wolf was in hearty agreement, only to be silenced by Alyssa, who still seemed somewhat uncomfortable about the whole situation.

Lewis was happy. He hoped she would continue to stay with the pack… stay with him. He just wasn’t sure how long that would last. Fortunately she seemed completely unconcerned about how much time she took off the bookstore.

He shifted back behind a tree, changing into his clothes stuffed nearby and staring down at the ground until he heard she was done doing the same. Stepping out of his hiding spot he grinned and offered his hand.

“Should we get something to eat?”

Alyssa took his hand without hesitation. “Sure. What should we make?” Lewis felt his heartbeat speed up at her casual use of “we”.

STEAK!

STEAK PLEASE!

Their wolves chimed in, making them both shake their heads.

“How about pasta?” He asked. Feeling the wolves’ disappointment he added “We can have meat in the sauce.

YES!

Our mate is the best!

Lewis couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Her wolf likes me at least.

“ALPHA!” Gary’s panicked voice caused him to turn, seeing the large man running towards them fully naked.

Seeing Alyssa look towards the ground, Lewis couldn’t help but growl with annoyance. “Can’t you put pants on?”

“No time.” He skidded to a halt, trying to catch his breath. “It’s your brother…”

His heart stopped.

Benjamin. Nightfang. His brother. His enemy.

“What has he done?”

Gary’s face was grim. “He’s invaded. The South Segment.”

Lewis pulled off his clothes, shifting to his wolf form.

“Are there any of our pack patrolling in the area?”

“I let Teddy and Lara take that segment… it was supposed to be our safest area…” Gary rubbed his face looking horrified. “I thought it would be okay.”

“Stay here. Protect the pack. I’ll get the young wolves.”

His silent voice projected across the entire territory.

“Everyone. We are under attack. Go to your designated areas. The Nightfang pack has definitely invaded the South Segment, but it could be a distraction. DO NOT LET DOWN YOUR GUARD! Watch each others’ backs. I’m going after Teddy and Lara who were last seen in the attacked area. Listen to the Beta while I’m gone."

He hesitated mentally, continuing to run as fast as possible to the south segment, and then reached out privately to Alyssa.

“Please keep yourself safe. If you want to fight I won’t stop you, stay near Gary. If you want to stay out of the fight, go hide in the house with my mom. The pack is instructed to guard it. “

“I… “ He trailed off, unsure of how to finish the sentence.

TELL OUR MATE YOU LOVE HER!

He wanted to. He wanted to express the thoughts, the emotions that had slowly sprouted within him in the time they had spent together. To say everything he had wanted to say when he was by her side.

But he couldn’t.

We’re not strong. We can barely protect our pack. She won’t want us. She doesn’t trust us yet.

He reached out for what he hoped wouldn’t be the last time to his beloved mate.

“Stay safe.”

With that, he continued towards the south sector.

Calling out for Teddy and Lara as he neared the attacked area, Lewis wasn’t getting any answers. He tried not to think too hard about what that could mean.

They might just be unconscious… they might not be… His wolf trailed off, hesitating.

I don’t know what Ben… what Nightfang is capable of. He might kill them. But if there is a chance they are still alive… we have to try.

He slowed down, his paws silently stepping on the soft earth. He stayed on high alert, listening for any possible signs of the intruders.

Don’t let your guard down. Someone is close. His wolf could feel the intrusion on the Packs’ territory, it bothered him.

There, in the clearing! Lewis spotted two small wolf forms laying still on the ground. Praying they were just knocked out, he crouched down and inched closer.

They were breathing.

He let out a silent sigh of relief. Scouting around, there were at least two from the NightFang pack in the clearing with the pups.

Only two.

Where’s the rest of that bastard’s pack?! Where’s Ben? His wolf snarled within him.

It’s a distraction.He had known there was a possibility. But he couldn’t leave the two young wolves for dead. He couldn’t.

And Nightfang knew that.

Let’s save them quickly and head straight back. Hopefully Gary will keep things together until we return.

I miss our mate. I hope she’s okay.

… Me too.

Lewis attacked from the shadows. Normally he would owe them a noise, some sort of warning of his approach. He should give them the chance to surrender. To run away.

He didn’t warn them. They had invaded his pack’s territory. Kidnapped and attacked their young wolves. They knew the consequences.

One wolf screamed in pain and fear as his hamstring was shredded between Lewis’ teeth. He shifted in his confusion and shock, the bloody mess even worse in human form. Lewis had already turned to the next one.

He snapped at the enemy’s flank, and as the wolf dodged to avoid his teeth, used his much heavier muscle mass to push him to the ground. He grabbed his throat, resting his canines against the carotid pulse. The wolf grew still, not wanting to push him into ending his life.

“SPEAK! What is that traitor’s plan?”

The wolf whined at his mental command, but stayed silent. Lewis began closing his jaw. We don’t have time for this. The pack is in danger. Our mate is in danger.

“He’s attacking from the West!” Sensing death close by, the wolf began to mindspeak. “He wants to wipe out your pack while you’re distracted.”

Lewis opened his jaw slightly, considering his options. If I let him go he could warn the others.

Kill him.

He surrendered.

The pack must be protected.

Let me knock him out.

“Weakling.” A snarl came behind him, and he realized it was the man whose hamstring he had torn out. Swinging a metal bar at his head. At the same time, the wolf he had pinned bucked with teeth bared, trying to throw him off and attack.

Lewis dodged, clamping down his teeth as he moved, tearing the carotid and jugular with the sharp points of his teeth. He let go, tasting blood, knowing that the wolf beneath him was dead.

One left.

Before the attacker could say anything, Lewis jumped, fangs bared, and tore his throat out as well.

We did it.

He nudged Lara, the older of the two wolves, relieved when she woke up right away.

“Grab your brother and go to the main house.” His tone didn’t allow room for argument. She nodded silently, shaking awake her brother, and the two ran into the forest.

Lewis couldn’t help but chastise himself as he watched them move away. I hesitated.

You’re our kind half. I am the viciousness we hold, the killer instinct.

I’m weak.

We have to have both, or we’ll either be a tyrant killer or a ineffective Alpha. Now stop having a personal crisis and go SAVE OUR MATE.

Lewis nodded grimly, padding off into the forest towards where he could sense the pack.

It’s time to end this.

He ran into more enemy wolves as he neared the center of his territory. This time he sighed, giving up control to his wolf. His wolf seemed relieved at taking over, fighting both enemies to severe injury or death before moving forward.

Mate. He picked up the pace.

________________________

Alyssa had never been in a fight before. At least not with other wolves.

Don’t worry, I got this. Her wolf took over and leapt at the nearest attacker. Gary and Bridget were to either side of her, their much larger wolves defending her flank.

“There’s a lot of them, but I think we’ve got control.” Gary communicated calmly, his frantic attacks never slowing.

“They seem disorganized. “ Bridgett’s silent voice conveyed her disapproval. “Did they come here just to die?”

As her wolf continued to fight, leaping nimbly in between the snarling wolves, Alyssa studied her surroundings.

This is too easy. They’re injured… starving… what have they been doing in their territory?

Her wolf had no sympathy. Bad alphas make bad packs.

She looked around in the chaos. Everywhere she looked wolves were snapping at each other. Blood stained the cold ground, trampled into the dirt churning it into mud. Howls and whines of pain filled the air.

“I don’t see him.” She communicated to the other pack members.

“Who”? Gary trampled his enemy into the mud, his jaw locking on the throat of the other wolf. “Lewis?”

“No. Benjamin. I don’t sense an alpha in this group. Shouldn’t he be larger or stronger than the rest? Where is he?”

“Maybe the Southern Sector? An alpha fight?”

“No.” Alyssa’s mind was racing. “He doesn’t seem like the type to respect Lewis enough to fight him head on. 64% of the stories show the villain attempting some sort of sneak attack. The South Sector was a distraction… and so is this. They sent their weaker, injured members to fight us.”

That means….

She took off for the main house.

Alyssa! Bridgett called out. Where are you going?

To where the real fight is.

She crashed into the house, skidding to a halt at the sight of Lewis and his mother.

No… it’s not Lewis.Their faces were very similar, but everything else was wrong: his scent, his expression, his posture.

He smells dangerous… aggressive… Her wolf complained. He’s everything our mate isn’t.

I don’t like him.

Me either… he’s scary.

We should be careful.

She kept a defensive posture, her hackles raised, her teeth bared.

Benjamin looked down at her with a mocking smile. “Ah. The princess is here.”

His mother glared at him, holding a gun in her hand. To Alyssa’s shock there were already two large wolf bodies on the floor, cooling blood spilling from multiple bullet wounds. “Don’t you look at her, Ben! You came here for me.”

“It’s Nightfang now, Mother.” Ben laughed. “And you can’t tell me what to do. Not anymore. You lost that right when you betrayed me to side with my weak brother.”

Alyssa advanced closer.

“Oh don’t give her that crap, Benjamin. You might pretend to be mysterious and evil but you’re just pathetic. You aren’t Nightfang, or Eveningclaw or even Morning-freaking-wood. You are Ben. A bitter little boy who is mad at his mommy and daddy for giving the pack to your brother.” She kept her gaze on his, and his green eyes had trouble continuing to look into her own. “Never understanding why they made the choice, even though it’s obvious to anyone else.”

“Oh really?”

“I’ve only known you for a single minute and I wouldn’t trust you to be in charge of a self-cleaning litter box, much less actual people’s lives. “

“Well, well, Princess. That’s just needlessly cruel. Trying to rile me up? Distract me?” He shook his head sadly. “That only works in stories. It’s true that I’m very disappointed in my parents’ choice. They thought I was too violent to lead. That I didn’t care enough about the pack. But I did. I’m the only one who does.”

“Sure.” She circled around, spotting one of her bags close to the wall.

“Be careful, Alyssa.” Lewis’s Mom called out, still pointing her gun at her own son. “He’s dangerous.”

“You used up all your shots in the initial attack, Mom. Don’t embarrass yourself by pretending it’s still a threat.” Benjamin reached out and took the gun from her. “I forgive you for killing my men. But you should some respect when addressing her.”

“What are you…?” She looked over at Alyssa, who stayed silent.

“You didn’t tell them? ...Interesting.” He rubbed his face, a mocking grin starting to form. “Maybe you don’t even know?”

“Shut up. “ Alyssa leapt forward, reaching for his throat. Throwing himself backwards, Benjamin shifted as he moved. At the change she miscalculated, slamming into the much larger wolf, her teeth closing on only the fur around his neck.

“You want to fight? I’ll fight.” His wolf charged, snapping at her flank while she twisted desperately to avoid him. He was larger, stronger… but she was definitely more agile.

This isn’t a winning strategy. We can’t face him head on. Her wolf was directing the movements, keeping them alive from moment to moment as Benjamin pressed the attack.

I know that… Circle around towards the back of the room. I have an idea.

They growled, running in and taking a small chunk out of his foreleg before darting in the direction Alyssa had spotted earlier. Benjamin howled in pain, slamming her with his weight, throwing her smaller form enough to slam her against the wall. At the impact she shifted, turning into her more vulnerable form.

I don’t like this. We’re easier to kill this way.

“Not excited about being naked either, but it’s necessary.” She muttered, her hands working quickly.

“He should have protected you better than this.” Benjamin laughed silently in her head. “He didn’t even realize what a treasure he had.”

SLAM!

A grey form jumped through the air, landing on Benjamin and knocking him to the ground. As they straightened up Alyssa recognized her mate with a sense of terror and relief. Relief that he was here. Terror that he was now in danger.

The two alpha wolves circled each other.

“You should have just found your own territory.” Lewis silent voice was grim, full of his authority as Alpha. “Even with your treachery, I was willing to let you go.”

“That’s because you’re weak. This is MY territory. MY pack. You are the one who has to die. And as for your lovely mate who you know so little about… how about I take her too?”

He sighed at his brother’s words. “You’re forcing me to kill you.”

“Lewis, push him my way!” Alyssa called out silently through their connection.

“That’ll put you in danger!”

“Trust me!”

Lewis ducked his head, the almost submissive posture throwing his brother into confusion. As Benjamin hesitated, Lewis charged forward, aiming not for his throat or other vulnerable points, but at his feet. Throwing all his weight behind it, Lewis tripped him up, pushing him back- straight towards Alyssa.

“Here you go! Be careful!”

“Thanks!”

“You just put your mate in harm’s way! She’s defenseless!” He snarled, turning his attention to Alyssa’s vulnerable state. “Fool!”

BZZZT

His form seized for a brief moment and collapsed to the ground,

“Nope!” Alyssa grinned and held up her Taser. “He just trusts his mate!”

“…”

“…”

There was a brief stunned silence.

“I’m so glad you’re okay!” Lewis’ mother leaned against the counter, looking relieved.

“Just one more thing.” Alyssa held up a finger. Reaching down, she grabbed her overly loaded suitcase filled with her research books.

BAM! And raised it over her head, slamming it down on top of Benjamin.

“Oof.” Both Lewis and his mother winced, but made no move to stop her.

“That’s for attacking me. Not to mention what you’ve done to Lewis!” She then reached down and pulled an ampule out of one of the pockets, stabbing Benjamin in the arm with it.

“What is that?”

“Tranquilizer.” She answered, making sure the drug injected okay.

“It’s very effective.” Lewis laughed silently in their heads, and then slowly shifting back to his human form. His green eyes met her own, and neither looked away for a long a moment.

“Are you okay?”

“Are you alright?”

They asked at the same time. Alyssa smelled his blood and panicking, ran over to look at him closely. “Where are you hurt?”

She grabbed his arm, finding a small cut there, and continued to look at his limbs.

Lewis froze. “Umm… Could we do this with clothing on?”

“…” Alyssa stepped back, rubbing her forehead as she realized that they were both naked and she had been feeling him over. “…Sure.”

“…Well” Lewis’s mother broke the silence with an awkward cough. “I’m going to go see to the pack. You two… talk.” She gave them a thumbs up and slipped out.

THIS IS A PERFECT CHANCE TO DISPLAY YOUR GENITALS! WHY DID YOU RUIN IT!Lewis’ wolf spoke up, frustrated.

“That’s not even a wolf mating ritual.” Lewis hissed. “Will you leave it alone?!”

Don’t worry! Her wolf chimed in. We don’t think you’re impotent anymore!

“See…”

So we should just get straight to the mating!

AGREE!

Lewis and Alyssa sighed slightly at their wolves’ excitement, and looked down at Benjamin, still unconscious on the floor.

“What do we do to him?” She asked, feeling tired.

“Do you still have some of those chains?” Taking the object she handed to him, Lewis bound the now human form of his brother, sneaking in a single kick in the process. “We’ll send him to the Council. He’s broken every law that I know of.”

“… You know in all the stories where he’s not killed the villain escapes and causes trouble again.”

Lewis sighed at that. “I know it would be safer to kill him. But… I…” He trailed off, looking conflicted.

“It’s okay.” She patted his arm, avoiding the injury she found before. “If you were able to kill him so easily you wouldn’t be you.”

“I worry sometimes that I’m too weak to be an Alpha.”

“I know. And I’m sure there’s probably some perfect balance of strength and mercy… but you don’t have to have everything figured out right away.”

“…thanks.”

She shrugged. “Besides, isn’t your sister still out there? Maybe the council can use Benjamin to figure out where she is.”

After handing Benjamin off to Gary and Bridgett to guard (And having them both fuss over Alyssa to make sure she was okay) the two went back to their rooms to change. Alyssa stared at the wall of her temporary bedroom, feeling conflicted.

He’s our mate. He’ll understand.

“I know. And that’s what scares me.”

Finishing her brief hesitation, she walked over to Lewis’ room, knocking on the door.

“Come in.”

“We need to talk.”

________________________

Lewis was extremely nervous as he waved his mate to sit down on the bed. He took the chair on the other side of the room.

What if she doesn’t want to stay?

She’s our mate! His wolf answered his nervous thoughts. She won’t abandon us!

“I don’t know what you told him, but your wolf is right.” Alyssa spoke up. “We won’t abandon you. Not over something silly like your evil twin brother trying to invade and kill us all.”

Lewis let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “That’s a relief.” He leaned back in his chair. “So what do you want to talk to me about?”

She stared at the ground a few moments before painfully continuing. “So I told you I grew up in the foster system, right?”

“Right.”

“So the part I didn’t tell you… is that a few years back, around the time I turned 18… a weird guy came and found me.”

Lewis growled. “Did he try to hurt you?”

“No. Quite the opposite. He said he was a friend of my family. He wasn’t one of us… definitely human.” She ran her fingers through her hair, obviously unhappy. “He wouldn’t tell me who they were, or why they abandoned me. He just said they had no choice.”

“That’s crap. I don’t know their situation but their only option was to abandon a baby?” HE shook his head. “Something’s off.”

“I thought so too. I told him to get lost.” She hesitated. “And he gave me a million dollars.”

“What…?

“He said it was a small gift from my parents. I don’t know who my family is, or what they were involved in, but it’s probably big… and definitely not good.”

Lewis processed this for a few moments. “So your job at the bookstore?”

“I actually own it. But I have a manager run it. I stop by occasionally and shelve books while I look for new research.”

“So…” He grinned. “Does this mean you can stay longer and not worry about losing your job?”

“…”

“… Is that what you’re thinking about?” Alyssa demanded, her hands twisting in the fabric of her t-shirt. “You’re not worried about unknown schemes, powerful families… who knows what nonsense could happen! I swear, haven’t you ever read one of these novels?!”

Lewis picked up the book on the table nearby. “I started reading through a few at your suggestion.

“The Seductive Alpha’s bride?” She raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“It’s research! I’m trying to learn how to be a better mate!”

He’s hoping to learn how to make himself more attractive! His wolf added.

We already think you’re both attractive!

Great! Let’s mate then!

Agree!

“Not yet!” Alyssa stepped in as their wolves got carried away once more. “Although she’s right… we do think you’re attractive…”

“Really?”

“But how about we go slow… like a date, first?”

“A date!” Lewis jumped up, his mind racing. “Yes! Let me grab my car…”

“We were just attacked… remember?”

He stopped at her gentle reminder. “Oh. Right. How about after we get things sorted out?”

She smiled, the expression causing his heart to race.

“I’d like that.”

They fell into a comfortable silence.

“So how accurate has your research been so far?” He asked after a while, curious.

“The books?” She thought it over. “You know, considering the Alphas and the relationships I’ve read about?” She looked him over again. “I’d say I was a little surprised.”

“In a good way?” His tone was hopeful, he couldn’t help it.

“Yes. As for the future though?” She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “The majority of these stories have a happy ending. But we’ll just have to see.”

Lewis touched the spot that had been kissed, smiling. “A happy ending, huh? I’d like that.”

[kevindayisafrog]

Part 2 of the post that was supposed to be a one shot inspired by @knandersonart ‘s art on Instagram (I have too many ideas for it to be left as a one shot, babe, I’ve got a whole book planned)

TW - abuse, anxiety and mentions of Dr*ke

Kevin had been at Palmetto for over a year now; alone and in fear. He tried hard to fit in with the upperclassmen but his short temper and constant panic left a huge gap between them that no one had tried to fill. He tried to get close to his father too but he knew that he’d never be able to tell him who he really was to him; he knew that his dad would only turn him away like Riko said. Kevin tried to keep in contact with Neil but their texts and calls had gone from one a day to one every few months. Everything was falling apart and all Kevin could do was watch as he fought like hell to climb back to the top. And the top is where he is now, but this time the podium he’s standing on is for him only, Riko can’t pull him down. Until Kevin’s alone with his thoughts, then he remembers how small he is against Riko’s power and ruthless abuse. Kevin felt himself slip further into the darkness around him when the championships were announced, something to finally concentrate on and a place where he’ll finally be with his Neil again; even if they’ll be against each other.

Kevin stared blankly at the empty bus seat in front of him as he sat at the back of bus alone; distantly listening to the upperclassmen’s idle conversation as the foxes made their way to the banquet. He couldn’t sit still as fear warred with excitement in his tight chest. He placed his AirPods in and called Neil, knowing that he’d see him in less than an hour but couldn’t wait to hear his voice. He grumbled to himself when it went to the voicemail and hung up, choosing to listen to his music instead as he watched the scenery pass by in a colored blur through the window.

Kevin was last off the bus and he stood behind the other foxes as Wymack opened the storage compartment on the coach, passing their outfits to each player. Matt tossed Kevin his dark green suit before turning back and catching his own suit before it hit the ground. “Jesus, Coach, this cost me a lot of money”, Matt smiled despite his words and smoothed down his suit. Wymack retorted dryly but Kevin didn’t hear what was said as he already turned and made his way towards the stadium; his body buzzing with a distant memory of Neil’s body close to his. He pushed his way into the locker room with a sign reading: ‘Palmetto Foxes’ written in black sharpie. He quickly threw on his suit with his back to the others, ignoring Nicky’s wolf whistle as he moved to the mirror to smooth down his forest green blazer. “Where are you going, hot stuff?”, Nicky winked with a laugh as Aaron groaned and turned away from his cousin. “I’ll be on the court”, Kevin muttered as he left the locker room and walked as fast as he could to the court. It pained him to see a perfect court being used as a dance floor and dining area, but he wasn’t here to be disgusted. He opened the court door as he felt a stern hand on his shoulder causing him to flinch and duck down. “Don’t worry, it’s only me”, Wymack pulled Kevin back up and turned him so that they were facing each other, “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay before you walk into the lion’s mouth”. Kevin looked up into his father’s eyes and blushed in embarrassment at the raw worry that he saw. “I’ll be fine as long as we’re not near Riko or Tetsuji”, he wrung his hands together and tapped his foot impatiently. “I’ll keep an eye on you, kid and if you’re worried in any way come straight to me, okay?”, Wymack gave a fierce squeeze of Kevin’s shoulder before pushing him through the door. Kevin turned away and made his way over to where the seating charts were. He ran his finger down the sheet until he found the Foxes’ name and made his way to the back table, freezing as Riko stood from their shared table. “Kevin, welcome home”, Riko announced in Japanese, spreading his arms in a vicious gesture of a hug. Kevin gulped and clenched his hands before taking a deep breath and making his way over to the table. “Riko”, he muttered as he sat down opposite Neil, relaxing as Neil wrapped their ankles together, “the rest of my team are just coming”. Riko barked a shrill laugh as he sat down and leaned towards Kevin, “me and Jean were just talking about how we’re surprised you guys made it into the championships, what with your small number of players”. Jean looked up and sent Kevin a subtle shake of his head, mouthing a small ‘I’m sorry’. Kevin sent a small smile back before turning to Neil, ignoring Riko’s annoyed frown. “Hi”, he whispered, running his ankle up to Neil’s thigh. “I’ve missed you”, Neil replied in French, reaching down and squeezing Kevin’s ankle under the table. “Hmmm, so we’re doing this now? Speaking other languages so I won’t understand”, Riko nodded slowly before laughing and curling a large smile, “your mother would be so disappointed in your disobedience. If you’d shut up we’d all hear her turning in her grave. Even though we’re so far away from her”. Kevin tensed and clenched his jaw, trying not to give Riko the satisfaction by showing his anger.

“Riko, it’s so lovely to meet you, Dan Wilds”, Dan led her team to the table and scraped her chair back, sitting down with her hand extended to Riko. Riko looked at her hand in disgust before shaking it with a fake smile, “I hope you’re looking after my Kevin for me”. Matt sat beside Dan and laughed sarcastically, “he’s not yours anymore, he’s ours”. Riko dropped Dan’s hand onto the table with a thud and turned to Kevin, “weren’t you just telling me how much you hated this team and that they’ll never win the championships?”. Kevin sat up straighter and smiled, “no, I wouldn’t say that and do you know why, Riko? Because although these aren’t the best players, they’re the strongest I’ve ever met. They use their teamwork to push back and fight to win their deserved place at the top. You won’t be smiling so wide when we beat you and win the championships”. Riko’s smile fell and he grabbed Kevin’s left wrist in an iron grip, “don’t fucking push me tonight, remember that you’re my pet. I won’t hesitate to put you down, do you hear me? One wrong move and I’ll bring your whole team down with you, see if you’re so brave then”, he growled in rapid Japanese. Nicky looked between the two before placing his hand over Riko’s and digging his nails in deep, “I’d advise you to take your hands off of him or I’ll break it off”. Kevin turned to Nicky in surprise and was shocked enough to let his long lost genuine smile get plastered across his face. Riko pulled his hand away and glared at Kevin, “you’ve deluded these jokes into thinking that they’re better than they are. You’re getting cocky, Kevin, what will you do when they turn you away like they inevitably will?” Andrew elbowed Neil to get him out of the way and leant on Neil’s hunched back, “now, now, Riko, let’s not throw your toys out of the pram. I told you what I’d do if you messed with my family, do you really want to test my word?”. Riko tensed and slowly turned to face Andrew, “One more word, Andrew and I will get an old friend over to play with you. Drake must miss you”. Andrew flinched at the name and let out a long medicated laugh, “try me” he growled. Neil shouldered Andrew off and stood up, ignoring Riko’s glare, “I’m going to the bathroom, try and fucking stop me”. The foxes watched in silence as Neil left the room without a single glance back to the table. “Your pets aren’t as loyal as you thought, are they?”, Dan asked and she tapped her nails against her glass, “must suck when everyone turns their back on you”. Riko growled in annoyance, hating how he’d lost control of the situation and his words were thrown back at him. Kevin stood up quickly, knocking his chair onto the floor with a loud clatter as he left the table, half running to the bathroom and ignoring Wymack’s shouts of concern.

“Neil?”, Kevin called into the seemingly empty bathroom, pushing open the stool doors slowly. “I really did miss you”, Neil walked around from the corner of the room and stood on his tiptoes to wrap his arms around Kevin’s neck, “I actually missed your irritating shouting and obnoxious presence on the court”. Kevin let out a small huff as he brought their lips together, smiling into the kiss of ‘hello’. “I hate you”, he whispered into the kiss, knotting his fingers in Neil’s orange hair. “Sure you do”, Neil replied, purring as Kevin tugged lightly on his hair. Kevin pulled away first and stared down into the ocean blue eyes before him, the auburn eyelashes fluttering his eyes back open. “Neil”, Kevin started but Neil let go and walked away to the sinks, “please just hear me out”. Neil sighed and turned on the tap, “Kevin, not now, can we just have this moment? Stop trying to ruin everything”. Kevin frowned and followed Neil, leaning his hip beside him at the sink, “I don’t ruin everything”, he muttered. Neil placed his hands under the tap, refusing to look up at his pouting boyfriend, “you know that’s not what I meant”, he sighed and dropped his hands to the bottom of the sink, “I can’t come back with you”. Kevin groaned in annoyance and pushed off of the sink, pacing his way back to the stools, “why not? Why the fuck not, Neil? Nothing is stopping you and even if something was you wouldn’t care anyway”. Neil turned the tap off and slammed his hands against the ceramic, “for fuck’s sake, Kevin, are you being obtuse on purpose? If I could go, I would. Do you think that I enjoy the nest? Do you think I like you being so far away from me? Because I fucking don’t, it’s hell”. Kevin laughed flatly and crossed his arms, half turning away, “you can come with me, you just don’t want to”. Neil pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes and sighed heavily, “why do you always twist things? Listen to me”, he dropped his hands and marched over to Kevin, pulling his arms apart forcibly, causing him to flinch, “listen, I hate not being without you, okay? And I know it makes you cringe when people talk like this, but I can’t live without you and I hate to admit, I really do, but I need you. I’m trying so hard to get out of there so you’re not alone anymore and Andrew’s helping too. We’re so close to getting out, we just need to be patient and wait a little longer before we can be with each other again, okay?”. Kevin dropped his head and Neil stood on his tiptoes so their foreheads could touch. “I hate being alone”, Kevin whispered, “I’ve never been alone before. When my mom found out who Tetsuji really was, who his family were, she exiled us to Ireland and never let me leave her sight. She took me everywhere with her, not even trusting teachers to look after me at school. But she left to go to the shops in the next town whilst I was sleeping and Tetsuji paid people to stage a fatal car accident. After that day I was with Riko and he wouldn’t let me leave his sight either, so I don’t know what to fucking do. I’ve never been alone before”, he sniffed and let out a small whimper. Neil gently placed his hands either side of Kevin’s face and placed a small kiss on the tip of his nose, “you’re not alone, I’ll never let you go”. Kevin lifted his head and turned to look away, “but you are leaving me alone”. Neil shook Kevin’s head and pressed his own head against Kevin’s ribs, “I’m trying, I really am”.

They stood in silence as Kevin hesitantly wrapped his arms around Neil’s shoulders. “I know you are, I’m sorry, I’m just scared”, he placed a gentle kiss atop Neil’s head and rocked him side to side slowly. Neil hummed and looked up, taking in his boyfriend’s worry filled eyes, “that color looks good on you”. Kevin frowned and looked down at his suit, “I wanted to wear red but I don’t really suit it”. Neil snorted and pulled away, turning to walk to the bathroom door, “you suit red, Kevin, trust me”. Kevin watched as Neil left the bathroom with a wink and couldn’t help but feel alone once again, a heavy feeling weighing on his chest. “Thank you”, he whispered with a small smile to the space Neil left behind as Riko kicked open the door with two broad shouldered Raven players behind him.

[mikkomacko]

Sweet As Honey 17

Harry's anxious again. Not in the excited kind of way that pumps him up before a fight, and not in the sick, nauseous way that hits him after he has a nightmare. This is new. Instead of fearing the past like usual, he's fearing the future. Because the future he sees is one he never imagined before. He likes it a lot more than the one he used to picture. Instead of endless nights in the ring and girls whose faces he'll never remember, he sees a house. A cute little two story house with a fenced in yard for a dog to run around in. Hopefully being chased by a baby or two. And on the front steps stands one girl who's face he'll remember for the rest of his life. It's y/n he sees, with a wedding band on her finger that twinkles in the sunlight as she scolds Harry for letting their babies get dirty right before dinner.

It's a nice dream, but Harry hates to break routine. Breaking routine means something unplanned has happened, something spontaneous. Something out of the blue. Like getting thrown out of your home on the night you were just supposed to be studying. It scares him. Terrifies him so much he can't sit still. Which is how he ended up sending a text to y/n telling her she didn’t have to come to his fight tonight. Because if she does they’ll end up celebrating after, her on his arm and showing him off to everyone in the bar. And he’ll go home with her and probably have sex with her, and he’ll keep doing it over and over again until he's got this whole new, unfamiliar routine. Until he undoubtedly falls in love with her while she sees him as just a hot boxer who's good company.

"Fuck," Harry curses, tears burning his eyes and throat. Not even two months ago he was arguing with her about her attendance at his matches, and now he's changing his mind. No not changing his mind, because he still wants her there, he just doesn't want what comes after. It's too much, too fast. He's falling in love with her way sooner than he ever thought possible.

Y/n: What are you talking about Harry? I already cancelled plans with Kate to go with you

He winces as he types out his response, knowing it's going to make him an asshole, but he can't think of anything else to say. It's like those dreams in which he's running on buildings and he knows he's going to reach the end and fall but he can't stop.

I don't know. Maybe ask her if she's still free? I just don't want you there tonight

Growling in frustration he throws his phone onto his bed, digging his elbows in his thighs until it hurts. He's got a headache building in his skull, pushing his fingers into his hair and squeezing until the knots send tingles across his scalp. He can't believe he just said that. He can't believe he lied to his y/n and in the worst way possible. It wasn't even a lie to protect her or keep her happy. It's a lie to keep him safe. Even with the regret squeezing around his heart he can't bring himself to apologize or take it back. Not even when her reply hurts more than the panic.

Whatever Harry. Don't call or text me. I don't want to be around you either right now

~

"Guess who's on baby watch today!" Harry cheers, scooping a bite of mashed bananas into Arlo's waiting mouth. Smacking his lips and letting out a refreshed sigh, Arlo parts his mouth for another bite, tongue falling sloppily to his chin.

"Meeeeeeee!" Y/n sings, dipping a celery stick into her blueberry yogurt and crunching loudly. Harry tries not to scrunch his nose up at her breakfast but it's hard. She's getting a lot of different and odd cravings this pregnancy as opposed to the ones with Arlo. All she ate then were burgers and hot chips. Now she's on a celery and yogurt kick, last week being the end of the artichoke rein, and of course she's still enjoying hot Cheetos, but now she eats them with cheese.

"Mumma's so loud, huh?" Harry whispers, turning his nose up at her as another crunch rings out. She sticks her tongue out at him and Harry’s dramatic gasp at the action makes Arlo giggle. “We’ll be nice though because she’s feeding our mate,” he feeds another bite between Arlo’s lips. “even if she does mean things like stick her tongue out at daddy.”

Arlo hums around another bite, eyebrows pinching together as he looks between Harry and y/n. Head tilted to the side thoughtfully, he settles on Harry. "Daddy."

A smile stretches across his face. "Tha's right bug." Arlo smiles proudly, accepting another bite. Sock covered toes kick Harry's knee when he takes a bite of the baby food, and Arlo's nose scrunches dejectedly.

"Oi!" Harry pinches his little foot, "share with me! M'the one that bought this!"

Arlo turns his cheek to the next bite, stubbornly not wanting the food after Harry’s eaten it. Sighing, Harry twists the lid back on the jar of baby food before rising from the table to put it away. Walking back to the high chair, Harry peels off Arlo's dirty pajama shirt, wiping his face clean with the stained fabric. Arlo grumbles and glares at him, pushing Harry's hands away.

"No!" Arlo shouts at him, eyes welling up with angry tears. By the time Harry's got him clean and the shirt in the laundry room Arlo's crying and trying to wiggle out of his seat. Harry picks him up, patting his back to soothe him but Arlo continues to squirm until Harry puts him down.

Frowning, Harry watches the bub waddle to y/n, arms reaching for her. She grins proudly, setting down her breakfast and happily scooping him up. He curls into her chest, dramatically wailing until y/n pecks his wet cheeks. "I know baby, m'sorry daddy's mean." She coos, pouting but her eyes shine with amusement when they briefly meet Harry's. "S'why you're my favorite boy."

Arlo sniffles, a pleased grin curling his mouth up as he looks over at Harry. Harry scoffs, glaring at Arlo like a child. The baby returns the look, nuzzling into y/n's shoulder as if trying to rub it in Harry's face that he's the favorite boy.

"Tha's not fair," Harry grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. Y/n giggles, rising from her seat and adjusting Arlo to her hip. Harry continues to pout as she pads over to him, cupping his jaw with her free hand.

"You're my favorite man." She comforts, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth before heading towards the stairs. Harry's lips turn up, smiling proudly. That is until Arlo peers over y/n's shoulder at Harry and slurs just loud enough, "my mumma."

Today's going to be a long day for Harry.

~

Harry's fucked up. God he's so fucked up. And he feels bad, really he does, because he's ruined everything for y/n. He can tell by the forced smile on her face as she says goodbye to the last of the guests, a couple guys from the gym, before closing his apartment door behind them. She looks utterly heartbroken as she rips down the birthday banner from the ceiling and throws it to the ground, followed by the streamers. The front door of the complex opens, and Harry waits for his mates for disappear down the street before pushing up from the bench and dragging his feet into the building. The second floor is too short a ride, he thinks bitterly, stomach flipping with nerves. He feels shitty but he made this happen.

Y/n is stabbing at balloons with a knife from his kitchen when he opens the door, the loud pop making him jump. He hangs his hoodie and kicks off his shoes and avoids looking up at the party decorations that y/n is angrily destroying.

"Hi," he mutters quietly, standing in the entryway like a new visitor. A visitor in his own apartment because that's what y/n does. She comes in and she takes over everything he's ever known. She leaves her mark with every step. In every corner of the gym, on every bench by the ring, on every thread of his bed sheets, on every tissue of his muscles, on every fiber of his heart. Maybe that's what he loves most about her, her ability to take over. He's always had to be in control because when he's not he fucks up and does something stupid, but maybe it'd be a nice change in pace to just hand himself over to her. Not that he really gave himself the chance. As soon as he started to give into her, he took it all back and now he's hurt her.

'Better her than me,' he tries to remind himself when she comes to stand in front of him. She's wearing a pretty pink dress that she knows he loves, and she might even be wearing something prettier under it as well, but he's fucked up all chances at seeing it. His chest aches but he repeats his mantra. 'Better her than me.'

"You're late Harry," she says emotionless, arms crossing over her chest. "like three hours late"

He hums, scratching the top of his head as if he forgot. "S'really that late? Fuck me." The laugh that leaves her lips is cold and mocking.

"Yeah fuck you Harry," she steps close enough to shove something into his chest "you knew about tonight. I've been planning it since December and you just skipped it? Do you know how humiliating that was?"

She walks away from him, disappearing around the corner into his bedroom. Harry takes a minute to examine the "birthday boy" sash and party hat she threw at him. His knees tremble as does his resolve. He hasn't had a birthday party in years. Not since his father died and y/n knows that. That's why she went out of her way to throw one for him. "A good birthday memory for you baby," she had said back when he first told her about it, and he had blushed and accepted her tender kisses like a child in desperate need of attention. Or care. In desperate need of someone to care for him.

"I mean," he clears his throat when she comes back, her coat thrown over her shoulders. "s'just a birthday. My birthday. Not like I missed yours or anything."

She pauses, fingers freezing on the buttons of her jacket. "Are you serious Harry? Are you really fucking saying that to me?"

He shrugs, tossing the items in his hand onto the dining table. Trying not to look at the sash, he focuses on her.

“Is this some scheme for attention?” She sighs, and her shoe taps against his floor anxiously. She’s trying to hold herself back from yelling at him, and the thought makes him want to cry. Even when he’s hurting her, she won’t do the same to him. She really is too good for him.

"What are ya talking about?"

"You fight with me to go to your matches and then tell me you don't want me there. You complain about your birthday, and being the dumbass that I am, I care enough about you to try and actually give you a good day, and you don't even fucking care. After you practically sobbed at the sight of the invitation! What do you want from me Harry?" She's begun to lose her resolve, eyes watering and lip quivering. Her shouting actually gives away the hurt she was trying to hide from him, and he wishes he hadn't pushed her this far. He hates hearing her hurting especially when he's the cause.

Dropping his gaze to the floor, he gnaws at his bottom lip. He knows what he needs to say, what he needs to do. He's been thinking about it for a week and a half, but the words still get stuck in his throat. He should take it as a sign that it's because he doesn't actually want to say this. Instead he uses it as a reason to push himself. It hurts because she's come in a changed him. She's going to hurt him if he doesn't hurt her first. "I want to break up."

The silence that follows weighs heavy on his chest. Peering up through his eyelashes, fully prepared to see y/n crying or glaring at him, he bawks at the sight instead. She's not trembling with rage or melting with tears, no, she's smiling. A cruel, twisted smile but still beautiful. Harry looks up at her, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Isn't she going to yell at him? Scream? Hit him? Tell him to fuck off again?

"Is that really what you want Harry?" She asks softly, voice not matching the painful grin on her lips. He wishes he knew what she was thinking. He wants to know what part of breaking up has got her lips curved up because he feels like he just stabbed himself in the chest.

He opens his mouth to reaffirm his words but he's cut off by her. "Don't lie to me either Harry. I can handle you lying about not wanting me at your fight, but not this."

That lump is back in his throat, catching his lie and holding onto it for dear life. He doesn't want to break up. He wants to see her every day, kiss her before every fight, wake up next to her every morning. But he doesn't want to get hurt. He's so scared of being hurt, and now he's mad because of course she knows when he's lying. She already knows him better than anyone else does.

"Stop saying my name please." He requests quietly, because it hurts to hear it from her. It falls out of her lips comfortably, rings softly with a tenderness no one's ever spoken it with before, and he loves it. Love to hear her say it.

"Than stop running away from me."

He breaks a little at the truth, tears rimming his eyes and jaw clenching to keep from sniffling. She knows exactly what he's doing. She always knows, and he has no excuse so he stays silent. With a quiet sigh, she continues to button her coat and throw her purse over her shoulder. Her footsteps echo throughout the apartment as she walks over to him, stopping a few inches from being in his arms.

"I just want you to be happy Harry," there's his name again, sounding so loving in his ears "so you come find me when you're miserable, okay?" Harry's knows that's exactly what he'll do but he denies it, shaking his head softly. "You better have a really good apology too." Her lips press a soft kiss to his cheek, free hand cupping his jaw for a mere second. Then she's walking around him, slipping out of the door, and leaving him by himself.

With a cement-like weight on his ankles, Harry drags his feet to his bedroom, crumbling to his knees with sobs as he takes in the room. She's decorated it with dozens of candles and roses, petals sprinkled romantically on the bed. Sitting among the forgotten petals, Harry can't help but think about how much he loves her.

~

Gemma is really nice to be around. With Harry and Anne gone, and the tension of trying to keep everything civil forgotten, y/n realizes that she could be really good friends with her. Maybe even actual sisters. And she really loves Arlo.

“I can’t believe how much he looks like Harry.” She breathes out, shaking her head in disbelief. Arlo, who was walking circles around the coffee table, freezes, looking around expectantly after recognizing his father’s name. His disappointed frown falls on y/n when no sign of Harry comes up, and he's stumbling over to her with his arms outstretched.

"It's a bit freaky huh?" She laughs, lifting Arlo up onto her thighs. He squishes as close as he can to her, his tummy pressing into her swollen one and head dropping against her chest.

Gemma nods, smiling softly at the little boy. His frown deepens, dramatically whimpering and turning to hide his face. "Harry used to do that too," she comments "but with our dad. He was always really clingy and attached to our mum. He'd whine and be grumpy whenever we were left without her."

Y/n strokes her fingers over Arlo's little back, giggling when he shivers and gurgles into her tee-shirt. "This one's always a little grumpy," y/n says, "even when he's with Harry. If Harry does something he doesn't like he'll be so hurt with him."

"Really?" Gemma asks, eyebrows raising in surprise. "I didn't think Arlo could ever be mean to Harry."

"He likes to guilt trip him," she explains, goosebumps rising on her skin when Arlo's tiny fingers begin to rub over her belly, tickling her. "Like the day after fights if Harry's a little beat up Arlo gets mad and will fight with him when he tries to ice bruises and stuff. He's getting into a hitting phase now so he'll smack Harry too."

"And then give him those big green eyes huh?"

Giggling, y/n nods. She thinks Arlo's realized how affected Harry is by his baby having his eyes and he definitely uses it to his advantage. There's a reason Arlo's been eating nothing but bananas and peas this week and it's that puppy look he's perfected.

"Speaking of Harry's fight," Gemma clears her throat quietly, "do you think it'd be okay if I brought someone to the match tomorrow?"

Taken aback, it takes y/n a moment to respond. "Of course. I think Harry would love that actually." He'll feel like Gemma's showing him off, bragging about him and y/n knows that will really make him happy. "Who is it? If you don't mind me asking?"

Gemma's cheeks blossom pink, and her lips curve up shyly. "This boy that lives in the building with us. We've talked a few times and I really want to ask him out. Heard him mention how much he loves sports so I figured this would be cool."

Y/n can't help but beam, being a hopeless romantic. There's just something so sweet about seeing someone blush over their crush. She's about to grill her for more questions when the baby presses against her tummy, wiggling around and Arlo let's out a shocked grumble. His head flies up from where it was resting on her, eyes wide and curious as he glares at her belly.

"That's the baby Arlo," she tells him, peeling up her shirt so he can press his hands against her skin. Tentatively, he rubs his fingers into his brothers temporary home, tilting his head when he feels more movement. "he's just saying hi."

"Oh that's so darling." Gemma mumbles, giggling when Arlo presses his face into y/n's belly and grunts nonsense at the baby. This time he doesn't move away when the baby kicks at his palm, instead just mumbles again. Then he looks up at y/n, nose scrunched up in annoyance.

"Baby." He murmurs to her, struggling a bit on the a, but still pronouncing the word Harry's been working on with him for a few days. She's not sure if he's letting her know that there's a baby in there or if he's complaining about the baby, but either way she leans forward to kiss his nose. Just like Harry does when she kisses him on his nose, he shivers and then the pinch on his nose melts away and he smiles at her.

"You better not be complaining mister," she warns him, "because daddy will be so hurt if you get mad at him for this." Gemma laughs, and Arlo gurgles, and y/n hopes Harry's feeling as happy as she is.

~

It's weeks before Harry can drag himself to y/n's apartment. He told himself to stop counting the days since he last saw her, yet he knows it's been exactly 17. 17 days of him sitting like a corpse in his apartment, doing the bare minimum at the gym, and doing even worse at fights. He got used to seeing her at them and knowing she wouldn't ever be back unless he went to get her really threw him off. After losing three fights, the latest of which actually ended in him blacking out, he knows he was stupid to break up with her because it hurts a lot more to not have her with him than it would if she broke his heart.

Which is how he found himself on Saturday afternoon in front of her apartment door, sitting on the doorstep because she's not home and she hasn't answered his calls or texts. Fifteen minutes of knocking and pleading for her to open the door, followed by her neighbor popping out to tell him to shut up because she went out, and he's been huddled against the wooden door for about a half an hour, shivering in the cold.

It feels like a mirage when he finally spots her climbing the cement stairs, head shooting up to look at her and his sore neck prickles in pain. She's wrapped up in the same coat she was wearing the night of his birthday party, a maroon beanie he used to steal from her on her head, and a pair of knee-high boots that echo throughout the platform. Harry scrambles to his feet, stumbling when his eyes go temporarily black and his head pounds.

Her eyes meet his, and if she’s surprised to see him, it doesn’t show. "You look awful." Is her greeting, eyeing the split above his eyebrow and the dark bruises littering the expanse of his face. Harry takes the cardboard pizza box from her hands, the warmth of it's contents soothing his frozen fingers.

"Had my ass handed to me last night," he murmurs in explanation, grateful when she finally gets her door open and let's him follow her in. Even after how terribly he treated her, she's still willing to let him in. "deserve it though." He closes the door behind him, toeing off his Nike's in a hopeful move that she'll let him stay long enough to not need them.

Y/n makes a noise of agreement, removing her jacket and beanie and tossing them into a heap on the couch. She fits herself into a chair at the small dining table, unzipping her boots and Harry takes that as a chance for him to set the pizza on the wood top and sit next to her. Once her boots are off, she leans back and crosses her arms over her chest, waiting.

Harry can't bring himself to look at her as he speaks. "I got scared," he admits shyly, "and I know that's not excuse to hurt you but I didn't know what else to do."

"You could've just talked to me," she replies, her previously emotionless tone opening up to show hints of compassion. Harry frowns, upset at how easy it sounds. Speaking. Simple. Actually doing it? Not so much. Y/n must sense this, because she changes the subject. "What were you scared of Harry?"

He knows the answer to this. He's practiced it all day knowing he'd need it to win her back. "How I feel about you." Glancing up at her, he’s relieved to see a bit of warmth radiating off of her. Fueled by her understanding, he continues. “I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re on my mind every minute of everyday. And night.

“I can’t even fight anymore without you there. If I’m not fighting for you, what’s the purpose?” Y/n has uncrossed her arms, leaning forward on her knees to be closer to him.

“Because it’s something you love.”

Harry shakes his head. “Not like you. Got my ass kicked last night because I couldn’t stop looking for you. When I didn’t find you I just gave up.” In a bold move he tentatively reaches out for her hands, eyeing her for any signs of discomfort. Her gaze remains warm as he intertwines their fingers.

"Is that why you're here?" She asks incredulously, "To give you?"

Harry immediately shakes his head, scooting closer to the edge of his seat to be near her. "M'here to fight for you. I made a mistake, a big one, and I want to take it back. I want you back...if you'll have me." He doesn't shy away from her intense stare, ignoring the nerves fluttering around his stomach. He can trust her, he doesn't need to hide from her. "I won't ever hurt you again, I promise darling."

"Pain is a part of life Harry," y/n murmurs as her hands release his to cup his face. "it's going to happen whether we want it to or not. We're going to hurt each other but it doesn't have to be heartbreak and it doesn't have to mean the end of us.

"We'll fight, and we'll piss each other off, and we'll hurt each other, but you're the only person I want to fight with."

His heart leaps in his chest, and despite how hard he tries to stop it, his lips curl up. "You still want me?"

Y/n presses a sweet kiss to his lips, not protesting when he swiftly pulls her into his lap. "I'll always want you Harry Styles. Always."

~

One truth. One honest truth. Harry feels like he has a million but they all get caught in his throat when he tries to speak. He just needs one though, one that'll make him feel a little less heavy.

Dr. Wells waits patiently, a kind smile on his lips while Harry racks his brain for something meaningful. It's Anne's fidgeting next to him that finally spikes his thought process. Clearing his throat, he eyes her out of his peripheral vision.

"I feel like I can't trust you."

The words hang heavy in the air, but Harry doesn’t regret them. He already feels lighter, relieved to have finally admitted it to her face. Letting out a pleased sigh, he relaxes back into the couch, unable to stop the tiny smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

Anne nods, looking to Dr. Wells for help. “Very good Harry,” he compliments, “Anne, trust is very important to Harry. I believe the first step to him welcoming anyone into his life, is absolute trust. If you would even like to hope at healing the relationship with him, you need to show him that he can trust you.”

Anne murmurs something else and Dr. Wells expands on his statement about Harry as if he weren’t there. He doesn’t mind it though. It gives him time to detach, to just think. Trust. How did he learn to trust again? He thinks of Nick, who fed and housed him. Liam, who trained and supported him. And y/n, who’s always loved him, mended him after fights, held him when he cried, stood by him when he felt like he was falling. Reliable. He’s always been able to rely on them. Even when he did all he could to push them away, they stayed with him.

His heart sinks to his stomach at the revelation, dejectedly looking at Anne. He trusts those that stand by him, even in his lowest moments. And she didn’t do that. She left him when he needed her. No matter how much he wants to trust her, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to.

For some reason, that insight takes more off his chest than his truth did.

~

Y/n's fingers are familiar and soothing as they stick tape around his knuckles. Harry watches her fondly, elbows dug into his thighs that are parted around her own. Liam and Nick are chatting behind her, but Harry can't bring himself to listen. Placing a delicate kiss to his pinky, she moves to grab his other hand. Harry flexes his fist, testing out the tape and nodding in approval when he realizes it's been perfected. Not that he'd expect anything less from her.

"Feels like it's been awhile since we've been here." Y/n says softly, eyes meeting his for a brief second through her eyelashes. "Just you and me."

Harry smiles cheekily. "And our unborn child of course."

She chuckles. "Of course," tearing the tape around his middle finger, she smooths the edge down "but you know what I mean."

Harry does know what she means. Despite Gemma and Anne being gone for a few weeks, they've had few moments where it felt like Harry and y/n again. Nodding, he pulls his hand from her hold, cupping her jaw tenderly. Pads of his thumbs brushing over the soft skin of her cheeks, Harry whispers, "I love you so much, ya know that?"

Y/n wraps her fingers around his wrists, pressing her lips against his inner forearm. "I love you just as much, if not more Harry." He leans forward to slot his lips against hers, their kiss being brief but lingering, even after they've separated. "And m'so fucking proud of you."

His lips curl up cockily, eyes twinkling, and if it weren't for the weight of the wedding rings around her neck and his baby in her stomach, she'd be back in the day they first met. "Mm how proud of me?" Harry whispers teasingly, nosing along her jawline. "Gonna show me? Show me how good I am?"

"You know how good you are."

Her words pull a deep chuckle out of his chest, pulling back to grin boyishly at her. "Could use a reminder darling." Simpering she pecks his mouth and cheeks, working her way up his jaw until her lips brush his ear.

"You're gonna have to earn it."

Harry's eyes flutter shut, eyebrows knitting together almost painfully and his fingers dig into her waist. "Yeah?" He murmurs gruffly, "gonna make me show off for you darling?"

She hums, vibrations tickling his sensitive skin. "You used to love showing off for me baby-"

"Still do." He cuts in, chuckling.

"and there's a big crowd out there. Show them who's the best, Harry. And then I'll spend all night reminding you."

A shiver runs up his spine, Harry blinking heavily and a tremor in his breath when y/n pulls back, smiling sweetly at him. "I am the best, huh?"

"Always."

He gives her that shit eating grin, contrasting the wicked curl of his mouth with a tender kiss to her forehead. "Should get out there," he mumbles, "gotta make sure I'm good enough to take home the prettiest girl in this joint."

Y/n nods, and Harry rises from the couch, taking her hand as he pulls her up from the coffee table. He locks their fingers together, pulling her towards the door but she tugs him back. Looking over his shoulder at her, he quirks a confused eyebrow.

"You're more than good enough Harry."

~

Y/n loves Gemma's date, so much so that she's considering inviting him to every match rather than Gemma herself. From the moment y/n joined them in their seats as Harry took the ring he's had this explosive energy that typically isn't present at these matches. He shook her hand with a beaming smile and a quick rush of "Nice to meet ya love, I'm Niall! Heard a lot about that Harry of yours! Saw him on TV once..." and he's been chatting about Harry ever since. Not that she minds of course. She loves talking about Harry.

And she's not the only one enjoying Niall's hype. By the way Harry's fighting, bouncing on his toes, ducking and diving around his opponent with ease, throwing hits packed with more strength than she's seen from him in awhile, she knows that Harry's buzzing from the praise. Every move he makes earns some shout or cheer from Niall, who then either high fives or lightly chest bumps y/n. Of course their celebrating brought Nick to his feet as well, hollering at Harry as well. And the rest of the crowd followed, including Gemma and Anne.

She knows Harry's buzzing with it. She can feel it radiating off of him, pulsing through his veins as he moves around the ring with grace. Like usual, he lives for the praise, the smirk on his face growing with every holler of his name. Harry gets his opponent pinned in the corner, rapidly firing punches against the man's shielding arms. Over the man's shoulder she can see Harry's face, flush cheeks and creased forehead lined with sweat. The chant of his name grows louder, rattling the stands as Harry's hit grow even more ferocious. Hands clasped in front of her, gnawing on her lip in excitement, y/n is bouncing with nerves when Harry catches the man's jaw, sending him to the ground in a heap of bruised and sweaty limbs.

The crowd around her is deafening, and through the chaos of Niall and Nick wrapping her in a hug while they sob with pride, she meets Harry's pleased gaze and smug smirk. Even when the ref throws Harry's fist into the air, his eyes remain on her, always on her.

[fandomstuff67]

Words of the Heart

I was just thinking about this idea and I wanted to write it. This fic takes place in a canondivergent world where Cas was rescued from the empty and Dean never died. This is the first time I’ve written from Claire’s perspective so I hope it turns out okay.

Word Count: 1.8k

As usual, read on Ao3 or below

Claire didn’t know why she was so nervous. This wasn’t as big a deal as she was making it out to be; everyone knew already. Jody, Donna, Kaia (obviously Kaia), Hell the whole town probably knew. So why she was pacing her room, scuffing the floor, and worrying her hands into knots, was beyond her. 

“Babe, it’s gonna be fine,” Kaia said from where she was sitting on Claire’s bed, watching her girlfriend wear a hole in the floor. 

“I know, I know,” Claire replied. And she did know, but still her heart was playing a staccato in her chest and sweat still laced her brow. She started biting at her lip, digging her teeth into the skin there until she tasted blood. 

Kaia sighed and stood up, taking Claire’s hands in her own and forcing their eyes to meet. “Alright, that’s it. You need to do something to take your mind off this.” 

Claire shook her head. “They’ll be here any minute.”

“You don’t have to tell you them, you know,” Kaia reminded her gently, giving her hands a squeeze.

“I want to,” Claire replied sternly. 

Kaia nodded and her hand moved to cup Claire’s cheek, she leaned into the touch. Kaia kissed her softly and then smiled. “It’ll be okay.” 

Claire hoped so. 

At that moment, there was a knock on the door. The sound reverberated through Claire’s body, pounding into her bones, shaking her to her core; she felt her heartbeat increase and she grasped at Kaia’s hand for one last bit of comfort.

 She took a deep breath, steeled herself, and then headed out to greet Sam, Dean, Cas, and Jack. 

“Hey,” she said nonchalantly as she entered the room with Kaia trailing behind her. 

“Hey Claire,” Dean replied, a soft smile on his lips. 

“Hello,” Cas greeted her. 

“Hello,” Jack echoed Cas.

“Good to see you,” Sam said. “You too Kaia.” 

Kaia smiled tersely. Claire knew she still wasn’t entirely over what the Winchester’s had put her through. 

“Beers all around!” Jody’s voice came from the kitchen seconds before she entered the room, holding two beers in each hand. “Hey girls,” she said when she noticed Claire and Kaia. 

This was it; now or never. 

She let her eyes fall on Cas and he looked back at her with his sharp gaze, the gaze that was so unlike how her father’s used to be, yet somehow had become just as familiar, just as welcoming and loving and warm. 

“Uh, Cas,” Claire began, awkwardly. Cas blinked at her, telling her to continue. “Can I, uh, can I talk to you?” 

Cas smiled, it was a small thing, a light upturn of the corners of his mouth. “Of course.” 

“Cool, uh... cool,” she spun on her heel and headed back down the hall to her room. Kaia gave her a reassuring smile as she passed. 

Once Cas had entered her room, she shut the door and turned to face him, hardly even able to meet his eyes. 

“Is something wrong?” 

Of course that was Castiel’s first assumption and of course he couldn’t be more wrong. 

“No,” Claire replied, almost a little too quickly. “No,” she repeated, this time a little more controlled. “I just wanted to tell you something.” 

“Oh,” Cas said, his eyes lost some of their worry and Claire brushed past him to stand by her desk and fiddle with the edge of a notebook. 

“God this shouldn’t be as hard as it is,” she muttered in annoyance at the notebook.

She took in a sharp breath and then spun back to face Cas. He was staring at her in confusion and concern and Claire knew she had to just lay it out in the open. 

“Okay, so, uh. Well. I know you’re not my Dad,” she began. Cas shifted uncomfortably where he stood and Claire instantly regretted her word choice. “But, you... were a part of him, I guess, in a way, and since I can’t tell him, I thought... well, I just thought you were the next best option, and you did kind of become like a father to me, and I know you care so-” 

“Claire,” Cas interrupted, taking a step towards her. She looked up at him, swallowing nervously as his steady blue eyes met hers. “What’s this about?” 

Claire wanted to look away, but Castiel’s gaze had her glued to the spot. “Okay, well, there’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just gonna say it.” 

Cas nodded kindly. “Alright.” 

“I like girls.”

She’d said it. Just like that. It was out in the open. There was no taking it back. 

Cas’ eyes softened and a smile spread across his face. Without preamble, he pulled her into a hug and Claire stiffened before letting herself fall into his embrace. 

“I know,” Cas said into her hair. 

“What?” Claire asked in surprise. 

“I suspected, with Kaia and everything...” 

“She’s kind of my girlfriend,” Claire said proudly. 

Cas pulled away and the look he fixed her with so vividly reminded her of her father. “I’m proud of you.” 

Claire didn’t expect to cry. But those four words, coming out of Castiel’s mouth, the mouth her father had used to say grace and to kiss her goodnight and tell stories, they hit her too deeply that she couldn’t stop the tears. 

“Thank you,” she replied, voice wobbly. 

“Jimmy, your father,” Cas said, “he would be proud of you too.” 

“How do you know?” Claire asked. Her father had never really spoken about his thoughts on being queer, he’d taken his religion seriously, so seriously that he let an angel possess him. 

“When I...” Cas trailed off. 

“Possessed him,” Claire finished for him.

Cas nodded. “Yes. Like you said, I was a part of him. I could see his into his mind, see what he thought and what he believed, and he would have loved you, he did love you, just the way you are.” 

Claire sniffed, her eyes welling with so many tears she was forced to blink to clear them away. She found herself pushing her way back into Cas’ arms. 

“You know you can tell me anything,” Cas said. 

Claire nodded. She had known that. Cas had made it very clear when he’d found her again, tried to be a part of her life, and tried to earn her forgiveness for ruining her family. But she hadn’t truly believed it, until now. 

“I know.” 

“Can I tell you something?” Cas asked once they’d separated from their hug.

“Anything,” Claire replied. 

The most far away look came over Cas’ eyes, the faintest of smiles graced his lips, and when he looked at Claire there was something so earnest in the depths of his blue irises. 

“I’m in love with Dean.” 

Claire’s jaw dropped. She couldn’t say she was particularly surprised, every time she’d been around the two of them they seemed to never be able to take their eyes off each other. Really, she should have suspected. 

“That’s- wow.” 

“We’ve been together for a while now,” Cas said, and there was the flicker of a flame in his words, lit with love. 

“That’s awesome,” Claire replied, beaming at him. 

“It is,” Cas agreed. After a moment he looked at her and said, “you were really scared to tell me, why?” 

Claire looked at the ground, the laces of her shoes were suddenly very interesting. “You were an angel, I dunno, the Bible and stuff says what I’m feeling is wrong and I just thought - worried- that you’d... reject me.” 

Cas’ warm hands took ahold of Claire’s shoulders and she was forced to look up at him. “The Bible is wrong. People misinterpret many things, and a flaw in translation played a big part in the thought process that was invoked upon the world that being queer is wrong. Chuck -God- himself, was bisexual, did you know that?” 

Claire’s eyes widened in shock. “No.” 

Cas smiled. “Well, now you do. Nothing you’re feeling is wrong, Claire. It’s good, and being with Kaia clearly makes you happy, right?” 

“It does,” Claire agreed.

“Then it is anything but wrong.” Cas regarded her for a second before asking, “do you want me to tell Dean, or would you like to do that yourself?”

“You can tell him,” Claire replied. “You were the one that I really wanted to tell in person.”

“I’m happy that you told me.” Cas gave her shoulders a squeeze and then tilted his head towards the door. “Should we return to the others?” 

Claire nodded. “Yeah.” 

Cas led the way and Claire followed him back into the living room where Cas instantly sat down beside Dean and placed a kiss on his mouth. Dean grinned at him and slung his arm around Cas’ shoulders.  

Kaia stepped up beside her and let their hands meet. “It went well?” 

“Better than I could have imagined,” Claire replied. 

Later that night, after dinner, while Claire was helping Dean clean up, he leaned over to her as he handed her a dripping wet plate. 

“So, you and Kaia,” he said, eyebrows raised and a smirk on his lips. 

Claire blushed and shot back, “so, you and Cas.” 

Dean chuckled softly but nodded. “Yeah. I never thought we could- but yeah. Me and Cas.” 

“You look happy,” Claire commented. 

“We are,” Dean replied, a smile touching his eyes. 

“Me and Kaia are too.” 

“I’m proud of you for that, you know,” Dean said. 

Claire’s heart soared to hear those words coming from Dean. “Thanks.” 

“No, really. I know I haven’t always been the greatest towards you. A lot of that had to do with when I had the mark, but a lot of it was also just me. But I wanted you to know, that you’re killing it out there, kid. Doing better than I was at your age, anyway.” 

Claire glanced over at where Jack and Cas were talking on the couch in the next room and then back at Dean, who had followed her gaze. “I think you’re doing pretty well, now.” 

Dean grinned and Claire couldn’t help with smile with him. “Yeah, I am.” 

Claire paused in her drying to pull Dean into a hug. “Thanks, for everything.” 

“Yeah, you’re welcome,” Dean said as he hugged Claire back. 

Claire reached behind Dean to scoop a handful of soap suds from the sink which she promptly flicked in Dean’s face when they pulled apart. 

“Hey!” Dean shouted indignantly. 

“It was getting too mushy in here,” Claire replied with a smirk. 

Dean rolled his eyes and flicked his own handful of soap suds at Claire which she tried to dodge, unsuccessfully. “Yeah, well, love does that to you.” 

Claire nodded mindlessly as she spared a look over at Kaia, who was laughing at something Jack had said. Her heart fluttered in her chest and when she picked up a cup to dry it off, she found that she knew exactly what Dean meant. 

Tag list (ask to be added or removed)

@anotherdowneyfan1 @tearsofgrace @quxxnxfhxll @rebelangel67 @professorerudite @adsdragonlover @wantstoflyafraidtofall @goblinwritergay @cassgetoutofmyass0907​ @nguyenxtrang @destielskygalaxypalace @im-your-huckle-berry

[caitlesshea]

build your heart a home

For the Roswell, New Mexico Big Bang @rnmbb

Tripp gives Arturo more than money that fateful day in 1987 and it changes everything. It’s the start of a new life; with three pods, three aliens, and three children. 

Or

What would’ve happened if Arturo adopted Michael.

TW: Mentions of Jesse Manes & Caulfield. 

Thank you @manesguerin for the most amazing gifset, check it out here!

1987 

Arturo Ortecho pockets the cash that Tripp Manes hands to him and is about to bring some dirty dishes back into the kitchen when a hand falls on his arm.

“Sir?” Arturo asks Tripp as he waits for the older man to speak. 

“Is there somewhere we can talk Arturo?” Tripp glances back at the table he was sitting at with Jesse Manes and Arturo nods his head. 

Tripp follows him through the kitchen and outside to the back of the diner. Arturo paces on the pavement as he waits for Tripp to speak. 

After a moment Arturo gets impatient. “Here, sir.” Arturo tries to hand the money back to Tripp but he just shakes his head.

“No, son. That’s for you.”

“Then why?”

“I need to tell you something. Something you’re not going to understand but I need you to believe me.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Whatever it is sir, I’ll listen.”

~~~ 

“Woah.” Arturo looks at the three pods with small children floating in them and then back to Tripp. “You weren’t lying.”

“I wish I was,” Tripp says quietly as he goes up to the pod with a young curly haired boy in it. Tripp places his hand on the pod and then grabs the necklaces he’s wearing and takes them off.

“What?”

“The crash in 1947 was real.”

“So they’re?”

“Aliens. Yes.”

“I don’t understand.”

“A woman I was...she was his mother.” 

Arturo watches as he rubs the pod softly, almost like he’s petting it.

“This necklace was hers from before the crash. These are my dog tags.”

“Sir, I can’t take - ”

“You must. You’ll know who to give them to one day.”

“Why not tell Jesse, or someone else?”

“It has to be you. I can’t explain it, but Arturo, promise me. Promise me you won’t let anything happen to them?”

“Sir.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise.” 

1997 

“Why’s it have to be so cold at night?” Walt complains and Arturo shushes him. 

“Stop complaining.”

Arturo gets a gruff sigh in response and Arturo shakes his head. 

“He could’ve given you a time,” Walt mumbles and Arturo walks further into the cave. 

It’s been a while since he’s seen the trio, he and Walt take turns to visit them to avoid suspicion. It’s just after midnight on June 14th, the date seared into his memory from Tripp’s talk ten years ago. 

“Woah,” Walt says as they come up to the pods and Arturo has to agree. Normally the trio is floating peacefully in their suspension, unmoving on their own, but now they’re moving and stretching against the pods like they’re trying to escape. 

“No.” Arturo stops Walt as he tries to help them. “Tripp was adamant they’ll come out of them on their own.”

“Fine.” 

Arturo watches in fascination as the trio breaks free from their pods, all wobbly on their legs like a baby colt.

“It’s okay,” Arturo speaks softly and holds up the blankets. 

The three of them eye him wearily but the young girl walks forward and takes the blanket. The other two seem to sense it’s okay and allow him and Walt to wrap them up in blankets long enough for Arturo to get them into the car and into pajamas.

“Did he say they wouldn’t speak?” Walt asks Arturo as they drive back to the diner.

“All he said was that they might not, and that they wouldn’t have any memories without someone from their planet there to help them out of stasis.”

Arturo looks in the rear view mirror at the three of them huddled together. 

“Great.”

~~~

“Arturo, you can’t take in all three of them.” Arturo looks over at Mimi, who had agreed to watch Rosa and Liz tonight since Helena had taken off a week ago.

“I have to do something.” 

Arturo looks over at his daughters Liz and Rosa, Mimi’s daughter Maria, and their friend Alex, who joined the sleepover and how they’re making the three alien kids more comfortable. 

“At least the curly haired one,” Walt says gruffly around a bite of his hamburger.

“Well it certainly can’t be the other two.” Arturo turns toward Mimi and raises an eyebrow.

“Look.” Mimi points to the way the kids have each grabbed the hands of one alien. Rosa comforting the young girl, Liz comforting one of the boys, and Alex comforting the other boy, the one with the curly hair.

“You don’t think?”

“He said it was possible.” 

“I’m going to call Michelle.” 

~~~

“You can’t be serious?” 

Arturo looks sharply at Michelle and suppresses the urge to roll his eyes. 

“We can’t just put them in the Group Home.” 

“You can’t take all three. What about Helena?”

This time Arturo does scoff. “She won’t be an issue.” 

Michelle looks at him then and he swears she knows the truth about Helena and her husband Jim, but he doesn’t dwell on it now.

“I can take the boy.” 

“The one with the curly hair,” Walt pipes up from his seat and Arturo nods. 

“I can’t take the other two,” Mimi says even as she eyes the young girl, something familiar in her gaze. 

“We can’t split them up. Look at them.” Arturo gestures to where the other two are huddled together even as his girls sit next to them. 

“The Evans’ are looking to adopt…” Michelle trails off and Arturo looks at her sharply.

“You think they’d take them both?”

“It’s worth a shot.”

“We’d have to tell them.” Mimi says from her seat.

“We can’t just…”

“We’d have to tell them Michelle. It’s the only way to ensure the kids' safety.”

“Jim can’t know.” Mimi reminds everyone and they all nod solemnly. “If Jesse…”

“Jesse will never know.” Arturo says with a conviction he doesn’t feel about Alex’s father, Tripp’s nephew.

“But Alex…” Walt nods his head to wear Alex is curled up with the curly haired alien and Arturo shakes his head.

“We cross that bridge when we come to it.” 

“They need names.” 

“Michael.” Mimi points to the curly haired boy. “Isobel, Max.”

“That just came to you?” Michelle eyes Mimi skeptically. 

Mimi shrugs unapologetically.

~~~

“So, not only are you telling me aliens are real, and the crash in forty seven was real, but these three just hatched out of eggs tonight and you want us to adopt two of them?” Ann Evans asks as she stares at all of them incredulously.

“Well when you put it that way…” Walt mutters and Ann turns her gaze to him sharply. 

Arturo sighs, well aware of how Ann feels about Walt, and himself if he’s being honest, but right now his biggest concern is the trio.  

“Pods.” Arturo pinches the bridge of his nose. “They’re called pods.”

“Whatever.” Ann looks over at Max and Isobel and smiles slightly.

“They are cute.” Phil Evans, who has been quiet since they arrived, mutters as he stares at the kids.

“Okay.” 

Arturo looks up at Ann and Phil, not quite sure he understood her and she sighs. 

“We’ll take them.”

“You understand…” Michelle trails off.

“Yes. Don’t tell Jim, don’t tell Jesse. Call the second they start showing any powers. They’ll learn English if we keep communicating with them and they like music.” Ann lists all of the things they’ve mentioned since they’ve arrived.

“Look. We aren’t taking them away. They’ll always live here, near the boy. If you’re saying they’d be in danger if they went elsewhere then I believe you.” 

Arturo nods, not entirely satisfied but willing to accept the circumstances.

“It’s fine by me. I have a friend who can do the paperwork quietly.” Michelle reluctantly agrees and Arturo looks at Walt and Mimi.

“What? I just wanted the boy safe.”

“He will be,” Arturo says with a conviction he doesn’t necessarily agree with.

“Mimi?” 

“I see no other way.” 

“Then it’s settled.”

2004 

“Papi!” 

Arturo hears Michael shout from upstairs and he runs up, out of breath as he stares at Michael wide-eyed.

“Mijo? Are you okay?”

“They’re floating.” Michael exclaims excitedly and Arturo sees some of Michael’s figurines floating in the air. 

Arturo watches as Michael uses his hand to manipulate the toys until suddenly he falls down and grabs his stomach. 

“Mijo.” 

“I’m gonna be sick,” Michael says just as Arturo grabs his trash can, thankful it’s close by, as Michael empties his stomach. 

“Okay. I think we need to call Mimi.”

~~~

“The acetone will help,” Mimi says as Michael sips it slowly. 

“It’s poison.” Arturo tries to take it away but Mimi is quicker.

“Not for them.” Arturo watches as Michael drinks it straight from the bottle and smiles. 

“It’s a pain reliever.” 

“Okay. So I just keep it handy in case things start floating?!” 

“Papi,” Michael says quietly as he moves closer in his chair. “I can practice at home, when no one else is around, so I’m able to control it.”

“That’s probably for the best. I don’t have enough of the pollen, and if it’s controlled he should be okay.”

“Should be?”

“What pollen?”

Mimi turns sharply to look at him and Arturo shrinks under her gaze. 

“You never told him?”

“Don’t look at me like that! The Evans’ haven’t said anything either.”

“Well, we better call them.”

~~~

“We can’t just take away their powers.” Arturo looks over to where the kids are all watching tv and sighs. 

“Look, Isobel’s starting to get visions, things she can manipulate.” Ann looks pointedly at Mimi as Mimi smirks. 

“Well, she’s my Aunt, so…”

“I thought we said we weren’t going to tell them,” Ann hisses at Mimi and Mimi shrugs. 

“We aren’t. Not until they’re older.” Arturo tries to placate them while Mimi and Ann glare at each other. 

“Max is showing signs of electro manipulation.” 

“Tripp did say someone could shoot fire out of their hands.” Arturo reminds them all quietly. 

“Great.” Ann rubs her forehead. “Well, right now he’s just shorting out our light bulbs.” 

“If we give them a safe space to practice then maybe they won’t accidentally use them around others and at school?” Arturo suggests and both Mimi and Ann nod.

“As long as they never get caught it’s fine by me.”

“We’ll just need to explain some ground rules.” 

Arturo doesn’t want to set the ground rules. He doesn’t want to hinder what is a natural part of them, but he knows deep down that it’s for their safety. He could never live with himself if he allowed something to happen to the three of them for his own carelessness in keeping them safe. 

“They won’t like it.” Mimi warns.

“It’s for their safety. I’ll help them understand.”

~~~ 

“Papi?”

“Yes, Mijo?” Arturo finishes tucking Michael in and sits down on the edge of his bed. 

“Am I in trouble?”

“No. Of course not. You just need to be careful about when and how you use your powers, okay?”

“Okay.” 

Arturo sees Michael bite his lips and he soothes it with his hand. “Just practice here at home with your sisters and with Max and Isobel and you’ll be okay.”

“And Alex?”

Arturo smiles at the mention of Michael’s other half even if neither boy has realized it yet. They’re always together, Alex spending the night more often than not any chance Arturo can get to pry Alex out of his terrible home.

“Yes, Mijo. With Alex, too.” 

Michael smiles so bright, his love for Alex clearly shining through, even at fourteen. 

It makes Arturo’s heart swell when he thinks of all of his kids and how they have their own alien and how lucky they all are. 

2008 

“It’s not fair and you know it!” 

Arturo pauses making dinner for a moment as he hears Liz yelling at Michael, presumably. Rosa is downstairs in the diner and he knows Alex and Michael are in Michael’s room, with the door open now. 

That was a fun development. Arturo had known they had made changes to their relationship, but it’s one thing to know, and another to see. 

“It’s not my fault I’m smarter than you, Lizzie.”

Arturo groans. Whoever told him raising three teenagers at the same time would be a good idea is a fool.

“Mikey!”

At the sound of nicknames that neither of his kids like he walks calmly into Michael’s room and sees Michael laying back against his bed with a guitar in his hand and Alex next to him writing in a notebook while Liz stands at the foot of the bed not so silently fuming. 

“Mijos? What is the meaning of this?”

“He didn’t study at all for our chemistry test and he still did better than me!” Liz screeches at a volume that is honestly impressive and Arturo rolls his eyes discreetly but not before Alex notices and smiles. 

“Mija, did he cheat on the test?”

“What? No.”

“Then you can’t be upset with him.”

“But, no!” Liz sulks while Michael laughs and Arturo turns a sharp glare onto him and he rightly sits back quietly.

“Mija, why don’t you go down and get your sister and Michael and Alex can set the table for dinner and maybe you can study together for the next test?”

“Ugh, fine!”

Liz stomps out of the room and Michael and Alex follow him to the kitchen. He notices that Alex’s eye has some form of makeup on it, probably covering a bruise. 

Jesse Manes, that son of a bitch. 

More than once he’s wanted to beg Michelle and Jim to take Alex away, and let him come stay with him. He doesn’t know how he’d manage, but he would, if he never has to see this wonderful boy with bruises on his skin.

“Mijo. Take these.” Arturo hands Alex some frozen peas and for a moment he freezes but then looks grateful. Even though Arturo has been helping him for years and he knows Rosa and Liz have both helped with the makeup it breaks his heart that Alex still feels like he can’t accept the help. 

“Thank you.”

“Help Michael set the table.” Arturo goes back to finish dinner but not before he notices Michael gingerly placing the peas against Alex’s eye as he leans in to kiss him. 

Arturo turns away to give them some privacy and just as he finishes pulling dinner out of the oven he hears Liz’s shout.

“Are you kidding me?! Papi!” 

“What, Mija?”

Arturo turns around and he can’t help it, he laughs at Michael using his powers to set the table while he kisses Alex. 

Teenagers. 

~~~

“I’m not ready for this,” Arturo mumbles as he watches Liz and Michael pack up the rest of their rooms so that they can move off to college. Michael is going to the University of New Mexico and Liz to UCLA. Rosa got into an art program and is still living at home, so at least it’s not all of his kids, but it still hurts.

“I’m not going far, Papi.” Michael soothes as he comes to stand next to him. Michael’s been vibrating with excitement since he got a full ride to UNM and has been floating on cloud nine since Alex announced he was also going to UNM, to absolutely no one's surprise. 

“I know.” Arturo waits for Alex to finish packing up the last box and he gestures them both into the living room. “I have something to give you both.”

“What is it?”

“Just sit, I’ll be right back.” Arturo walks into his room and grabs the box that holds the journal Tripp wrote for whichever Manes man fell in love with an alien after he did.

“Papi?” Michael asks curiously as he eyes the box Arturo is holding. Arturo takes a deep breath and hands Michael the box as he watches them open it.

“A journal?” Alex asks as he opens it and turns it over in his hands. 

“It was given to me by your great uncle, Tripp.” Arturo points to the journal as Alex and Michael both gasp. 

They pull a photograph out of the journal of a young Tripp Manes with Nora Truman and Louise Truman.

“The man is Tripp Manes, the two women with him are Nora and Louise Truman.”

“Are they?” Michael’s voice breaks and Arturo nods.

“Nora is your mother. Louise is Isobel’s. I’m sure Mimi is telling Isobel everything that happened with their own family history, just as I’ve been charged with telling you yours.”

“Their own?”

“Mimi’s mother is Isobel’s half sister. Tripp was able to bring Louise to the reservation where your mom is from, Alex.” 

“My family?”

“It’s how Jesse met your mother. Tripp tried to save Nora.” Michael’s breath catches but Arturo continues. “He wasn’t able to, and I’m sorry to say that she ended up passing in ninety seven, just as Louise did when you all hatched from the pods.”

Arturo hates the broken look on his son's face. Like he betrayed him. He hates it. 

All of the conversations and arguments over the years with Mimi, Michelle, and Ann sit at the forefront of his mind and how he should’ve fought harder for Michael. 

That they should’ve told them the truth sooner, knowing his son would’ve wanted to know, even if it was hard. 

Arturo thinks back to seven year old Michael, who was scared and crying when Ann and Phil took Max and Isobel away. Who wouldn’t let Alex’s hand go and wouldn’t sleep unless Arturo stayed in the room with them. 

He thinks back to all the nightmares Michael has had, of a planet long forgotten but still coming back to him. He thinks of the language on the ship console piece Michael found when he was fourteen and how he’s been trying to decipher it ever since. 

He thinks about how Michael is looking at him like he doesn’t know him. Arturo knows he needs to give Michael space. Knows him well enough to know that Alex will be spending the night and the door will remain closed as Alex whispers sweet nothings into his hair. It’s the least Arturo can do. 

“You can’t...why didn’t...you didn’t tell me!” Michael stands and screams in frustration and Arturo’s heart breaks for him, for Isobel, for Max, for all of them.

“Mijo.” 

“No!” Michael falls into him and Arturo pulls him into a hug and let's Michael cry into his shoulder as Alex rubs his back.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t know how.”

“I want to see her, wherever they’re resting.”

Arturo doesn’t know where Nora’s final resting place is, somewhere in Caulfield, no doubt, which he’ll have to also explain to Michael someday. But he knows where Louise’s is, and he knows Nora has a place there as well. 

It was one thing Tripp had been sure to tell him, one thing he wanted to make sure Arturo had understood. Wherever Louise was, Nora wasn’t far, and wherever they both ended up they would want to be together. 

“Okay Mijo, we’ll go.” 

~~~

Arturo is glad they went out to the reservation. It gave Alex a chance to see his mom and it gave Michael, Isobel, and Max more insight to their families and histories. He knows it won’t settle Michael’s curiosity. He also knows that they all want to find out more about Max’s family, as well.

But for now, his son gets to be a college freshman sharing an off-campus apartment with his boyfriend. 

Arturo is not ready to say goodbye. 

“Papi, they’ll be fine,” Liz says as she settles into his side. They head to California next to drop her off and he’s barely holding it together. 

“I know, Mija.” 

“Papi!” Alex shouts from his and Michael’s bedroom and Liz laughs as he goes to investigate.

“What, Mijo?”

“Tell Michael that we do not need to keep the chemistry set in the bedroom!”

“Oh, nope, you’re on your own.” Arturo backs out as he hears Alex’s indignant squawk and Michael’s laughter.

Sometimes Arturo thinks he’s being a bad father by letting them live together, but then he thinks they’ll end up spending all of their time together anyways and he doesn’t want them to have to pay for two apartments for no reason.

And then Arturo thinks back to how Alex calms Michael, how his music soothes him and helps him concentrate. 

His entropy changes, as Michael likes to say. Arturo knows Alex is the budding songwriter but he thinks his son has a chance at being a pretty successful poet if he ever wanted to. 

Arturo smiles as he thinks back to finding them behind the Crashdown in the back of Michael’s truck one night after a particularly bad fight Alex had with Jesse and how Michael had his head in Alex’s lap with Alex carding his fingers through Michael’s curls, just singing softly to Michael so he was practically asleep. It was then that Arutro knew there was no going back for either of them. That what they had would withstand the test of time. After all, Michael woke up at the right time to meet Alex. Something like destiny Arturo likes to think. 

But, they are teenagers, and teenagers fight, so Arturo just smiles at them as he goes to help Liz unpack their kitchen. 

Living together should be interesting. 

2018 

“I’m so proud of you, Mjio.” 

Arturo looks around at the house Michael and Alex purchased after moving back home to Roswell after ten years away.

“Thanks, Papi.” Michael smiles as they sit down on the couch, which is next to all of Alex’s music equipment. 

Alex is a successful songwriter, his career taking them all over the world these last ten years and Michael’s an agricultural engineer, something he wanted to do to honor his mother after he found out she could grow crops. 

“I’m glad you’ve all decided to come home.” 

Michael laughs and Arturo pulls him into his side, just like he’s still a kid. He thinks about how lucky he is to have all three of his children home now, with Liz getting a position at the local hospital and Rosa owning the art gallery in town.

“I am, too.” Michael looks around their home and smiles. “I am, too.”  

“You did get quite a big house.” Arturo hears the teasing in his own voice and so does Michael because he laughs. It’s not that Michael and Alex haven’t talked about having kids. Michael’s been talking about starting a dad band with Alex since they were seventeen, so Arutro has no qualms bringing it up now.

“How about we start with a dog before we start deciding which room to use as a nursery.”

“You said it.” 

“I love you, Papi.”

“I love you, too, Mijo.”

~~~

Arturo comes out of the kitchen and sees Michael slurping on a milkshake in the middle of the day.

“Mijo. I didn’t know you were coming by!”

“Can’t a guy just drop by to see his dad?”

Arturo raises an eyebrow at Michael, well aware of his penchant for sarcasm and Michael laughs.

“Fine, you caught me. I came to talk to you about something.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just...” Michael gestures upstairs and Arturo nods his head.

Arturo sits on the couch, well aware that Michael will tell him when he’s ready and luckily he doesn’t have to wait long.

“I’m gonna ask Alex to marry me.” 

“Mijo.” Arturo blinks away tears as Michael sits down next to him and grabs his hands.

“Papi, please say it’s okay.”

“What? Of course it is.”

“Okay, it’s just. He doesn’t really have parents I can ask, and he calls you Papi, so…”

“Oh, Mijo, I love you both, you don’t need my permission, but you have it.”

“Thank you.” Michael breathes out and Arturo pats his hands before he gets up.

“Where are you going?”

“Just a second.”

Arturo comes back into the living room holding a ring, a necklace, and dog tags that he hands to Michael.

“The dog tags were Tripp Manes and the necklace was the one your mother was wearing when they crashed here.” Arturo watches as Michael runs his fingers over both items with tears in his eyes.

“Papi.” 

Arturo thinks back to the conversation he had with Tripp out by the pod cave and how he wanted to see Michael end up in a good home, with a good family. And how Tripp wanted Arturo to make sure that happened. Arturo likes to think he did a good job. 

“Tripp wanted you to have them. He said you would know who to give them to.” 

“Thank you.” Michael breathes out as he looks at Arturo. “And the ring?”

“It was the ring he was going to give your mother.”

Michael looks at him, fully crying now, well aware of the relationship that Tripp and Nora had. Arturo pulls him into a hug and runs his fingers through his curls.

“He’d want you to have it. He’d also want you to make it your own.”

Michael nods against his chest and Arturo knows with a little doctoring it will be the ring Michael uses to propose to Alex with.

Two sons and two daughters. Arturo is one lucky man.

2020 

“Nervous, Mijo?” Arturo jokes as he takes over tying Michael’s tie for him. Underneath Michael’s shirt is the necklace he gave him a couple of years ago. The one his mother Nora wore when they crash landed on Earth all those years ago. He knows Alex wears Tripp’s dog tags, as well.

“To marry Alex? No.” 

Arturo envies Michael sometimes. His quiet confidence and how loudly he loves Alex is something that most people can only dream of. They’ve been inseparable since they were seven and Arturo brought the trio to the Crashdown. 

Isobel and Rosa got married two years prior and Liz and Max got married four years ago. Arturo will be a grandfather before the year is over and his heart is overflowing with joy. 

“I’m so happy for you both.”

“Papi, don’t make me cry.”

“Sorry, sorry, not yet, you’re right.”

Michael laughs as he hugs Arturo tightly and Arturo has never been more glad that Tripp pulled him aside in the diner all those years ago.

“Come, Mijo, it’s time to get you hitched.”

“Ugh, Papi, you’ve been spending way too much time with Isobel lately.”

Arturo laughs and ushers Michael outside to where Alex will be waiting at the altar for him. 

Michael and Alex’s backyard has been transformed into something out of a magazine. Small lanterns line the aisle, white chairs with greenery, and cafe lights hang above. Isobel has truly outdone herself. 

And at the end of the aisle is Alex, with tears in his eyes staring at Michael, who Arturo can tell is barely holding back his own tears.

The music starts and Arturo hears Alex’s voice waft through the outdoor speakers and Arturo gasps. 

“Did you know?” Arturo whispers as they make their way down the aisle.

“I knew he was planning something, but I didn’t know he was signing his own song.” 

It's you I'm fighting for

If I call off the battalion

Break my walls down stone by stone

Tear down my defenses

I can build your heart a home

And if I did

Would you come home

I still find my fathers shrapnel

Buried beneath my skin

But I've begun to heal in all the places your hands have been

Would you meet me in the middle

Could we both stop keeping score

There's a battle I must fight alone

It's you I'm fighting for

If I call off the battalion

Break my walls down stone by stone

Tear down my defenses

I can build your heart a home

And if I did

Would you come home

The song is beautiful, just like their love, and Arturo, along with everyone else, is a mess of tears by the time he hugs both Alex and Michael and sits down next to Michelle. 

The ceremony is truly the most romantic thing Arturo has ever witnessed, Isobel leaving no stone unturned, and it’s not until Michael and Alex are ready to say their own vows that Arturo realizes just how lucky he is to be these boys’ father.

“Alex.” Michael begins as he grabs Alex’s hands. “I think I knew when we met at seven that we were meant to be. I know you think I’m always coming up with these cheesy and brilliant lines to express myself, but I think when we met it was as if we were built from the same star drawn together by something cosmic. I’m from another galaxy and yet somehow you are as familiar as my own reflection. I’ve loved you, for a long time, and I will continue loving you, far beyond this world.”

Arturo has tears running down his face, recognizing the lines from Tripp’s journal that he gave to Michael twelve years prior. Alex laughs at Michael’s joke and Arturo notices that he squeezes Michael’s hands a little bit tighter. 

“Michael.” Alex responds, throat thick with emotion. “Together we could quiet all the noises, drown out the voices, and play our own song. I think back to when we were boys becoming men under the desert sky, and how I wanted nothing more than to spend my life with you. I knew then that you loved me, just as I know you love me now. You were the best of me. You are the best of me.”

Arturo is really crying now, along with everyone else and he wipes his eyes just in time to see Michael and Alex kiss as they’re announced husbands to the world.

“I now pronounce you married.” Isobel shouts. “Everybody cheer for Mr. and Mr. Ortecho!”

Arturo pauses as the name they’ve chosen sinks in and both Michael and Alex turn to him and hug him before making their way back down the aisle. 

“We love you, Papi.” 

“I love you, too, Mijos.” 

[ti-bae-rius]

Thomastair prompt

(Requested by @christinaherondale)

From @666-megabytes‘s prompt list. Prompt = “Something happened and we have to hide together in a really small space!!!!! we make out for 10 minutes but don’t worry we said no homo at the end”

Set at the end of Cast Long Shadows during Matthew’s plan to explode the South Wing of the Academy. 

“Come on, Kit,” Thomas urged, tugging at his cousin’s sleeve, which was dotted with burns. Christopher’s clothes never lasted long amidst the boy’s scientific experimentations. Though Christopher’s parents – Thomas’s Aunt Cecily and Uncle Gabriel – were patient enough, his sister Anna had since refused to lend Christopher any of her waistcoats. Thomas’s fingers clung to the worn material now, pulling his absent-minded cousin down the corridors. “Hurry!”

“Where are we going again?” Christopher asked, wrinkling his nose to stop his spectacles from slipping down. Anyone else would have spun to look at him incredulously and asked what planet Christopher had been on for the last hour as they carried out Matthew’s plan. Thomas did neither of those things and instead ushered Christopher down the Academy’s labyrinthine hallways with haste.

“The Dean will be suspicious if you and I are together. You go down to our room and I’ll go to the library,” Thomas instructed as they reached the top of the main staircase. He kept casting nervous looks over his shoulder back towards the South wing.

“Oh bother, I need to borrow a book,” Christopher said, and turned to Thomas. “I’ll swap you. I’ll go to the library and you to the room.”

“Fine, Kit, just go!” Thomas pressed, and Christopher set off down the stairs, clearly pleased with his bargaining skills. Thomas was about to start after him when he froze with a sudden realisation how incriminating it would look to see the two of them fleeing what was soon to be the site of an explosion. Instead, he loitered on the landing, waiting for enough time to pass as to be inconspicuous.

From below, Thomas heard running footsteps and pressed back into the shadows cast by the large grandfather clock near a door. They’d locked the door to the South wing so, unless someone was hellbent on getting into the disused wing, they’d have no risk of harm on their consciences. However, he heard someone throwing themselves relentlessly at the door and the old wood was starting to creak ominously. The person swore and Thomas’s chest squeezed with recognition.

“Alastair?” he said shyly and the Carstairs boy spun, scowling.

“Your stupid libertine friend, Fairchild, has moved all of my things to the South wing. Annoying bastard.” He gave the door another shove and it gave a worrying creak.

“You can’t go in there, it’s locked,” Thomas protested anxiously. It was only a matter of time now before the inevitable. Damn Matthew; he could never leave well enough alone. Thomas knew Alastair was beastly at times, but he didn’t deserve to be blown to smithereens.

“Not for long. Besides, who put you in charge, Lightwood?” Alastair sneered.

He threw his shoulder against the wood one last time and Thomas winced. One more and it would give. Panicked, he grabbed Alastair by the wrist and pulled him away into a nearby cupboard. He slammed the door and leaned back against the door, blocking in Alastair, who was looking down at the place where Thomas had grabbed his wrist, shell-shocked. Eventually, he snapped out of it and glared at Thomas.

“Move, pipsqueak.”

“You can’t go into the South wing. It’s about to –”

An almighty crash interrupted his sentence, shaking the floor beneath them. Dust from the crevices of the walls rained down on them like snow. A second rumble shook the floor and Alastair clutched Thomas’s arm, fingers digging in, to stop himself falling. A loud bang right outside the door made them both cry out, followed by glass smashing. Thomas winced, knowing exactly what that was. Then, in one last cosmic act of hatred, the witchlight bulb hanging overhead shook and fell, shattering between them and plunging them into darkness.

“—explode,” Thomas finished weakly.

 Alastair was sat against the door, thumping his head back against it in boredom. Thomas himself was anxious and lamenting the fact the cupboard in which they were stuck was too small for adequate pacing.

“I’m really sorry about your stuff,” Thomas said, for the eighth time.

Alastair finally rested his head back against the door and sighed. “Matthew Fairchild’s pathetic frivolities are neither your business nor your fault.”

“I swear I’ll replace all of your things. I swear it.” Thomas sank down on the floor before Alastair. “I never meant for you to get caught up in this. Matthew can be a prat, but he isn’t malicious. He’s just a bit of a fool.”

“You can’t,” Alastair said quietly and Thomas felt his eyebrows knit in confusion. As if he could pre-empt the question on Thomas’s lips, Alastair continued. “You can’t replace it all. My father bought me a mundane newspaper in the train station every time we left another place. They’ll have gone up like tinder in your stupid explosion.”

“I’m sorry,” Thomas repeated. “How about a trade? I can give you something that means a lot to me as a guarantee I’ll find you the most interesting broadsheets London’s curios shops have to offer.”

“Why do you care so much?” Alastair replied. He didn’t sound angry, just genuinely curious. “All of your friends hate me. They clearly speak ill of me to you, yet you still trail me like a puppy. Fairchild must loathe it so why do you do it?”

Glad for the darkness, Thomas felt his face go spectacularly red.

“I don’t know,” he muttered, then flipped the question back on the other boy. “Why don’t you tell me to shove off if you annoy you so much?”

“You don’t annoy me,” Alastair said after a long beat of silence. “I just can’t help but feel like you want me to tell you things so you can report it back to your little gang for ammunition.”

“I make up songs in my head,” Thomas blurted. “It’s a secret. I’d never tell the boys. Usually I do it when I feel lonely or…or invisible.”

“How could you ever feel that way?” Alastair scoffed. “Your family is at the very forefront of the council in such an interconnected web it borders on the incestuous. Your friends are always there and like you just as you are—”

“All my friends have a distinct thing that made them…them. Christopher is the mad scientist, James is the bookish hero, Matthew is—”

“The bane of the Nephilim’s collective existence?” suggested Alastair.

“—charming and funny,” Thomas corrected. “I’m nothing. I’m nice, and that’s the most lukewarm thing you can be.”

“You’re honest,” Alastair pointed out and Thomas rolled his eyes.

“Not nearly as honest as everyone thinks. Besides, I think I carry so many of everybody else’s secrets that it’s easy to ignore mine. That isn’t honest.”

“Do you have room for just a couple more secrets?”

“Yes,” Thomas nodded tightly.

He heard Alastair swallow in the silence of their dark holding cell, then he let out a shaky breath.

“My father never comes to collect me at the end of term, nor drop me off at the start. You must have noticed – Fairchild certainly has. And why is that? Because my father is a drunk who can hardly get out of bed before supper. It would be worse if he did show up, I think.”

“You’re ashamed of him?”

“I just…I’ve had to sacrifice everything, so my little sister didn’t have to deal with him.” Alastair put his head back against the cupboard door. “You can’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t,” promised Thomas. “So…what’s the other secret?”

“Come closer,” Alastair said and Thomas shuffled closer, resting back against the door beside the other boy. Alastair cupped a hand around his mouth and turned to whisper in Thomas’s ear. “This.”

Instead of keeping his mouth to Thomas’s ear, he dipped his chin and pressed a kiss against the boy’s cheek. Thomas startled but, instead of pulling back, found himself turning towards Alastair, lips meeting lips like a flame touching a wick. The burst of heat that bloomed between them was almost imperceptible – almost. Thomas was almost sad that his first kiss was with Alastair Carstairs; it wasn’t that he didn’t like the boy – in fact, it was the opposite. No girl he ever kissed would make his heart race like this, make him want to melt into their touch. This was his Icarus moment, Thomas sensed. This was as close to the sun as he could get before he was burnt, but he’d never feel this warm glow again safe on the ground.

Footsteps outside the door made them break apart, shattering the moment like a dropped champagne flute. Suddenly they were once again stuck in a dingy cupboard, waiting for someone to let them out. At once they were on their feet, banging on the door, shouting for the person outside to help.

“Hold tight, boys. We’ll get you out in no time,” the voice came.

Quietly, Alastair turned to Thomas. “You won’t tell anyone, will you?” he whispered, biting his lip nervously.

“Of course not,” Thomas replied, tugging shyly at his shirt cuffs.

The door creaked open finally and Alastair didn’t wait, just pushed past their rescuer, vaulted over the fallen grandfather clock that had blocked the door, and hurried off downstairs. Breathless, Thomas thanked the professor who’d freed them and set off to find Christopher with one more secret to keep. He didn’t mind. At least this secret left him with the feeling of walking on a spring-loaded floor.

Alastair Carstairs, Thomas thought dreamily. He really was an enigma.

[welcometophu]

The Meaning of Home, Chapter 2

The Meaning of Home Chapter 2

Tags for all Welcome to PHU novels will be available at the PHU tag list on Pillowfort. This list is under construction as of Sept. 5, 2021.

[ Previous |  First | Next ]

Pawel spends much of Monday lounging around the house. He gets up to help get Conor and Emma on the bus, so his dad can leave on time for work. After meeting the bus in his pajamas, he walks back to Dad’s house and lies down on the couch. He doesn’t really need a blanket, but he pulls it up to his nose anyway for the comfort factor and spends the day dozing and streaming old movies on his dad’s TV.

He never makes it as far as thinking about cooking anything for dinner, so he treats Dad and Conor to a night out. It eats up more time than he’d like, and it means Conor needs to scramble to finish the last of his homework once they’re home, but it’s nice to spend an hour letting someone else do the cooking.

Later that evening, after Conor goes to bed, Pawel and Dad spend the next couple of hours finally talking through everything that’s happened. Pawel doesn’t want to leave things out, but there are a few things he avoids for Dad’s safety, like the government involvement, and one thing he just doesn’t know how to explain.

He hasn’t seen Chelsea in a while. She’s relearning how to work within the world without draining souls to stay alive. He highly doubts she’s planning on stopping by his father’s for a visit, and even if she did, Dad never got to meet her as anything other than one of Pawel’s friends a decade ago.

Yeah. That is a complicated mess that he has no desire to go into detail about.

They go to bed late, but Pawel still wakes early on Tuesday to get his own kid on the bus. He figures it’s the least he can do, letting Dad get to work on time on a regular basis again.

Alone in the house again, Pawel feels refreshed and awake.

And bored.

He puts the phone on speaker as he putters around the kitchen, pressing to dial the number for Pels. She picks up after two rings, her voice gravelly and low. “What? Did we burn your house down?”

“I’m assuming you would have called me, rather than the other way around, if you burned my house down. Since you’re the one staying there.” Pawel rifles through his father’s cabinets until he finds a slow cooker. It’s dusty, but he’s pretty sure it’ll be functional. There should be enough ingredients for chili around. 

He looks into a cabinet, and nearly bare shelves stare back at him.

Okay, maybe not.

“What?” Pels asks again. “You woke me up. Are you looking for my mom? I thought you had her number.”

Pawel finds tomatoes and beans, and starts emptying them into the slow cooker. “I do. I thought she’d be at work, so I called you instead.”

“It’s too early and—Dad, Dad, no, I’ll talk to him. Give me back my phone.”

“Hello, Ammon.” Pawel might not be able to hear Pels’s father, but he’s well aware by now that the ghost can hear him.

“He’s leaving, and I’m not putting this on speaker,” Pels mutters. “I thought he was going to start spending more time with Mom now, after the whole unbinding ceremony last weekend, but apparently she told him not to follow her to work.”

“Can she see him now?” That would be an interesting development. Pawel sets the empty can on the counter and reaches for a pad of sticky notes so he can scribble a reminder to himself to look into more detailed information about the ritual that the Burlington community performed for Pels and her mother in order to remove the bindings from their Talents.

“I think so. I mean, I’m pretty sure she can, but we’re not really talking about it. But seriously. Did you call for a reason? Cheyenne’s got these final projects to finish up since she left school a couple weeks early, so she’s not bothering me. Dad wasn’t bothering me. I was sleeping.” Pels grumbles under her breath.

“I just wanted to see how things were going.” Pawel peels off the sticky note and tapes it to the fridge, where he might see it later. Another search of the cabinets turns up chili powder and a few other seasonings. “Now that you’ve had a chance to settle into the house.”

“We’re fine. We’re figuring out how to be a family again without Peter.” Pels hesitates. “I’m learning how to see the world a whole different way now that I can see everything my Talent lets me see. Shane and Jess and I are talking a lot, and I’m going to figure this Mage thing out. So… thanks. For everything. Including letting us stay in your house while you’re gone.”

Pawel shakes some cocoa powder into the slow cooker, before adding a handful of dried onion. “Someone’s got to water the plants.”

“The plants were already dead when we got here.”

He laughs at Pels’s dry words. She’s not wrong. Pawel was gone for a month; everything went to hell, while his son went to stay with his dad.

Which, yeah. That brings him right back around to where he is now.

Pawel stares at the slow cooker. “If you need anything, you’ve got my number.”

“I’ll tell Mom to check in with you periodically. Oh and—” Pels hesitates before asking, “Cheyenne wants to know if it’s okay if she uses your backyard to practice flying?”

Pawel thinks of the time they used Alaric’s dragon to summon a Shadow in that same backyard. “That would not be the strangest thing the neighbors could have witnessed. But she should try not to break anything, including herself.”

“I think we can do that. Gotta go. Dad says there’s someone at the door.”

The line goes abruptly silent, and Pawel looks down at the screen of his phone as the connection is lost. “Okay, then.” He gives the vegetarian chili a quick stir, then puts the lid on, plugs it in, and switches the appliance on to cook on low. “That’s set, at least.”

He feels a little better, knowing that his home is in good hands, or at least, it’s not burning down. It sat empty for a month before; having someone live there for the summer should be better.

As long as none of the newly powered Mages set the place on fire.

Fire.

That reminds him.

Pawel checks one more time to ensure that the slow cooker is on and set to low, then heads back to the living room to dig out his laptop. He starts it up and finds the tab he’d left open for the outdoor music festivals, with a list of dates.

That’s what he thought: the festival that Rory and Thorne’s band, Phoenix Rising, is touring with will be in Buffalo this weekend.

Pawel buys four tickets. He figures Dad will come with them, and Conor will want to bring a friend. Probably Alan. And if Dad doesn’t want to go, Alan’s mom, Emily, might join them instead. He’s not worried if the tickets don’t all get used; he just wants options.

Conor will be pleased by the surprise, anyway.

He closes the laptop and looks back to the kitchen.

How the hell does his dad live like that, anyway? And what has Conor been eating?

No, he saw the answer to that this morning. Toaster pastries and cereal, and Pawel’s pretty sure that the last of the eggs were finished off as well.

Fine.

If Pawel’s going to be here all summer, squeezed into his dad’s small space, the least he can do is lay in supplies.

Pawel spends the day scouring the cabinets, making a long list of everything from prepared garlic and ginger for easy seasoning, to pantry staples like pasta, to critical items like various forms of protein for the freezer. His dad has a standing freezer in the garage, and even that seems woefully empty.

He loses time going through the sites online for each local grocery store, poring over the ads to determine which store will have the best value for this shopping trip. He types up the list to rearrange it by food type, so that as soon as Conor’s home they can head out and maybe they’ll be organized enough to get the trip done quickly.

“Dad!” The door bangs open. “What’s for dinner? I’m starving and something smells really good.”

“It’s not dinner time.” Pawel folds up the printout of the list and shoves it in his pocket. “We’re going shopping. Grab a snack.” His own stomach growls and he’s not sure how he made it from early morning to half past three without a meal. “I think I saw a box of granola bars.”

Conor lifts the lid to the slow cooker, inhaling deeply, while Pawel finds the last two granola bars. He tosses one to his son.

“Let’s get some food.”

“Can we get meat for the chili? That looked like it was all beans,” Conor grumbles. He buckles his belt, then directs Pawel to the grocery store. 

Pawel already knows how to get there, but he’s not going to tell Conor that. Not when Conor seems comfortable in this place and is enjoying showing off that comfort level. He stays silent while Conor points out the entrance to the parking lot, then finds them a space close to the door.

Conor grabs a cart from the corral and pushes it into the store. “Emma’s Papa picks her up after school, so she doesn’t have to take the bus. She said they’re doing stuff today, so she couldn’t come over. I thought we could work on our—Emma!!” 

Pawel catches the cart, stopping it from rolling when Conor takes off into the produce section. Emma’s answering shout is sharp and loud as Conor skids to a stop near a display laden with peaches. Pawel pushes the cart there, half an ear listening to the kids talking as if they weren’t together a half hour ago in school.

“Dad!” Conor waves at him, so Pawel picks up the pace.

He’s not sure who Emma is with. She stands next to an almost empty cart, except for a bag of peaches sitting in the seat. There doesn’t seem to be any sign of an adult.

“Emma’s shopping.”

Emma rolls her eyes, pushing braids back over her shoulder. “Obviously,” she says quietly. “Jennie had to pee. He’ll be back soon. She forgot to go before we left school.”

“Does your Papa have two carts? We can help you,” Conor offers. “You and me can do one cart, and Dad can do ours, and your Papa can do the other one.”

“You can call me Leo. I don’t think your dad would like it if you started calling me Papa like the rest of the kids.”

Pawel knows that voice.

He hasn’t heard the voice in a very long time, but there are certain phrases still etched in the deep recesses of his memory. 

He exhales, and very deliberately makes himself look at the man who has joined him.

He looks good. Older, yeah. It’s been more than ten years since Leo graduated and left town for college. Apparently he’s back now, and from the police uniform, this would be Emma’s foster father that works for Pawel’s dad.  He has the name ‘L. Papa’ embroidered on his uniform, just above the pocket, and his badge is still visible. Leo stands with one hand on the handle of the cart and reaches without looking to take a package of donuts out of the hands of the small girl sitting in the basket of the cart.

When he smiles, Pawel’s heart twists.

“I was glad to hear you reappeared,” Leo says quietly. His voice is a warm, low tenor, as careful and even as Pawel remembers.

“You’re fostering a Weather Witch.” It’s maybe not the best reply. Pawel refuses to wince when Conor snickers.

“I told you he’s single-minded sometimes,” Conor whispers loudly to Emma. “He’ll help find your parents. I know your Papa’s a police officer, but Dad’s a Mage.”

Emma’s brown eyes are furrowed and dark. Her lips purse, but she doesn’t say anything.

Leo takes two sheets of paper from his pocket, then hands one to Emma. “You know which cereals the boys like best. Pick one for yourself and Jennie that they won’t eat before you get a chance. Since you’re the one with me, you get to pick the pasta. I know it says twenty boxes of mac & cheese, but we only need ten. We’ll be shopping again next week.”

Emma takes the list and reads it over solemnly. “Nevaeh said we need more tuna, but it’s not on the list. I’ll get that, too. C’mon, Conor. There were some cookies on sale. Help me pick out ones that the boys won’t eat before we can.”

“Popcorn,” Conor replies. “Remember, we used the last of it last weekend? Did that get on your list?”

They roll away with the almost-empty cart before Pawel can protest.

The small girl in Leo’s cart has the box of donuts in her hands again. She opens the plastic carefully and takes one out.

“Jennie,” Leo says softly.

“I need sugar to sparkle,” she whispers around a mouthful of chocolate cream.

Speechless feels so strange. Pawel can’t remember the last time his tongue has been this tangled. “I—” He tries to break his own silence, and fails miserably.

“Things get chaotic with five kids in the house,” Leo says. When he smiles again, his pale green eyes crinkle around the corners with tiny lines that definitely weren’t there before. They match the faint hints of salt in his dark hair. “Conor’s got a lot of energy. He probably keeps you on your toes.”

“Dad says I’ve been cursed with a kid that’s just like I was,” Pawel says. He pushes his hand through his hair, trying to figure out how to recover his balance. “He didn’t tell me you were one of Emma’s foster fathers. Just that she had two of them. Foster fathers. And two missing parents.”

Meeting his ex-boyfriend shouldn’t be this unsettling.

Pawel blames it on the fact that he’s probably still in a sleep deficit—two weeks is not enough time to catch up on missing sleep for several months.

“There’s a local teacher who works with a group that finds placements for Talented kids who need Talented families to stay with.” Leo has the second page of his list in his hand, and he refers to it while picking out produce.

Right. Shopping.

Pawel looks at his own list and tries to focus on that to give himself a little distance and wrangle his brain back into working order. Salad. They definitely need things for salad. And fresh vegetables for roasting wouldn’t be bad.

“Alice asked Colt if he knew anyone who might be able to take on kids about four years ago, and when he said we would, she put us in touch with Lucy and Rowan, and that’s how we got Matt, our first foster kid.”

Leo’s voice rolls over Pawel, dropping tidbits of information that he struggles to grab onto.

“Matt’s not bad,” Jennie says around a mouthful of donut. “Sometimes.”

Pawel latches onto the names, his fingers closing around a broccoli crown and holding it a little too tightly. He fumbles with the plastic bag. “Lucy and Rowan? And… Colt?” He had to have heard those wrong.

He manages to get the bag open and shoves two broccoli crowns into it, dropping them in the basket of his cart.

Leo is silent.

When Pawel looks at him, Leo stands with his fingers wrapped around the handle of the cart, his grip tight. “Colt Harrison,” he says. “My husband. You—”

“Dated him in high school, yeah.” Pawel finishes Leo’s sentence for him.

That’s… too much information. Pawel is struggling to assimilate it.

“Dad did not mention that,” he mutters.

“This doesn’t have to be weird.” Leo grabs the container of donuts and moves it to another area of the cart. Jennie could still get to it, but she pouts instead, slouching down in one corner of the basket, her lower lip sticking out and flecked with chocolate. “Colt and I met when he was interning at the law office where he works now. We’ve been married about three years. We didn’t even know each other back in high school.”

“It doesn’t have to be weird,” Pawel echoes. He’s right, of course. It shouldn’t be weird. It’s not weird at all. People meet. They fall in love. They get married. They have kids. Sometimes there’s a small world effect and it turns out that they may have already been connected beforehand.

That’s all Pawel is in this; an ancient history connection.

“Your dad talks about you all the time,” Leo says. He pulls a napkin from his pocket and cleans Jennie’s fingers. “Try not to touch anything else,” he admonishes gently before tucking the dirty napkin back in his pocket. 

He’s so careful with her. Pawel remembers when Leo used to take care of his younger siblings. It only makes sense that he’d be good with kids now. As big and scruffy and rough looking as he is, he’s gentle, too.

“I need to—” Pawel holds up the list, showing just how long it is. “Dad’s cupboards are empty. I’m not sure what he and Conor have been eating, and I get the feeling that it’s takeout so I really don’t want to know. I need to stock up.”

“So do we. Matt’s eleven and Clan, and Duke’s fourteen. We go through a lot of food in our house.” Leo heads toward the back of the store. “Come on. We’ll catch up with the kids if we get moving.”

Pawel exhales and trails behind Leo. Jennie peeks around him, her thumb in her mouth as she looks at Pawel. Small brown brows furrow deeply before she turns away and curls up.

Her snores are adorable little rasps of sound. He can’t think how she’s sleeping through the rattle and squeak of the cart she rides in. Still, she’s silent as they work their way through the aisles, collecting items from their respective lists.

They turn down one aisle and spot Conor and Emma from a distance. Conor has sparks around his hand while Emma reaches for something falling from the shelves.

Pawel coughs, and Conor turns to give him an innocent look.

Wait. That reminds him.

“You’re taking in Talented kids,” Pawel says slowly. “So you or Colt must be—”

“We both are,” Leo says, glancing at him sideways. “I grew up Clan. Colt’s Emergent, but that’s his story to tell. I heard about you being a Mage from your dad. He’s proud of everything you’ve done at PHU.”

Pawel waves that away. “Youngest dean. Newest department. Only real expert on Talent as a whole because I’m the only person who’s bothered to go down the rabbit hole far enough to study it formally.”

“It’s still impressive.” Leo huffs.

“I just… I never knew.” Pawel thinks back and tries to catalog Leo’s family based on what he knows of Clan. He didn’t interview them for his thesis; they weren’t on his radar as a large Clan community. They grew up as a part of the town.

“You weren’t meant to.” Leo dips into his pocket and hands the napkin back to Jennie, who has somehow woken from her nap and polished off a second donut while they weren’t paying attention. “That was before the Emergence. We took a lot of care to be able to live here without anyone knowing.”

“But your community—”

“Widespread and buried within this town and the surrounding ones. We never really wanted to withdraw from the rest of the world. Which is what makes us good candidates for fostering. We don’t have those same prejudices that some might have.” Leo drops a hand to the top of Jennie’s head, and she looks up at him, smiling brightly.

There are, indeed, sparkles all around her, the air shimmering with her contentment and happiness.

“Conor wants me to help find Emma’s parents,” Pawel says quietly. “At the same time, I’m not sure if he really wants me to get involved, after everything that happened this last year. What do you—”

“I think they’re dead,” Leo says quietly. His hand still rests atop Jennie’s head, but his gaze is fixed on Emma. “I can tell you what little we know, but everything points to them being dead. The question is what happened to their bodies.”

Unfortunately, Pawel’s had experience with issues like that and can think of at least one scenario.

Which might mean they’re not dead.

They also might not be prepared to be parents anymore, either.

Leo pitches his voice louder. “You should come over for dinner some night.”

Both Conor and Emma turn to look at them. Emma grips the side of the cart, stepping up and holding on while Conor gives it a good push before jumping up himself. It sends them racing towards Leo and Pawel, until Pawel puts up a hand, throwing out a gentle cushion of magic to stop them before they crash.

“Yes!” Conor yells. “Dinner!”

“You could come over and meet everyone. If you want to.” Emma’s gaze drifts away, like she really doesn’t care about the answer.

“They’re like my second family. Third, maybe, because of Alan, but my second one here,” Conor insists. “And Emma’s dads are really nice.”

“They aren’t my dads.”

“I’m sure Colt would love to see you, too,” Leo adds.

Thanks for the gut punch.

“He says yes,” Conor says quickly. “Right dad? You say yes.”

What else is he supposed to do?

“Yes.” Pawel fishes out his phone, unlocking it and staring down. He doesn’t resist when Leo slips it from his fingers, opening up his text app and sending something.

Leo places the phone back in Pawel’s hands. “The first number is mine, the second is Colt’s. In case you don’t still have them.”

“I fried my phone and lost everything,” Pawel admits. “Back when I Emerged. So. Thank you.”

“It’s good to see you.” Leo’s touch is heavy and warm where he claps his hand against Pawel’s shoulder, then squeezes. 

Pawel could hug him, but he thinks that might be awkward. He’s never had this situation. He has three exes—two of them he hasn’t seen since they broke up, and the other one is Chelsea. Which is just complicated.

“Yeah, you too.” He watches as Leo walks away, Emma pushing the second cart beside him. Pawel wonders just how distracted Leo must feel since Jennie looks like she’s grabbing her third donut.

Or maybe that’s just how it is. Maybe he spoils his kids with plenty of sugar.

It’s not like Pawel knows anything about how Leo’s life is now.

Conor tugs sharply at Pawel’s shirt. “Dad. When are we going to dinner over at Emma’s house?”

Pawel looks down at his phone, at the new conversation sitting there. All it says is, this is Pawel.

He locks his phone and shoves it in his pocket. “I don’t know yet, but not tonight. Let’s go find that meat you wanted for the chili. Chicken might be good. We could sauté it up quickly and add it so it’ll get a couple hours in the slow cooker with the rest. Or we could cook it up with spices and add it afterwards.”

“You’re just saying that because chicken is healthy,” Conor grumbles. “I got more toaster pastries. Dziadziu lets me eat them.”

“I let you eat them, too, just possibly not in the same quantities,” Pawel protests. It’s not an argument he’s going to have right now, anyway.

He’s going to focus on finishing up the shopping, and finishing cooking dinner.

He’s going to focus on anything other than the fact that somehow both of the boys he dated in high school grew up to meet each other and end up married.

Yeah, he’s going to do his damnedest to focus on anything but that.

[ Previous |  First | Next ]

Want to support me? – Patreon | Ko-Fi | Reblog & Comment

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Blue Eyes Part 32

Summary: After the Garrison is shot up, the youngest Shelby daughter finds a new home in London. She strips herself of her last name and tries to live a peaceful life far away from her brothers’ chaos in Birmingham. But fate leads her right back into it after she runs into Alfie Solomons.

Part 32: Alfie and Ella get wrapped up in the bliss of parenthood. But things aren’t over yet

      Ella was in the bliss of motherhood. When she awoke, it was almost a miracle to her that the twins weren’t just a dream. They were there in the flesh, cooing softly from their cots.

           Alfie was fast asleep in the rocking chair, snoring lightly. His wife smiled and kissed his cheek. “Good morning, love.” She murmured.

           He stirred and lifted his head with a wince. “Fucking hell, my hip hurts.”

           “Well, you fell asleep in a wooden chair, I can imagine it does.” Ella laughed softly and went to scoop up Sofia. “Hello, chavi.” She whispered affectionately. “Was papa keeping you company last night?”

           The baby girl yawned and wrapped her fingers around one of Ella’s dark curls.

           “Oh, Alfie, aren’t they so perfect?” She sighed adoringly.

           Alfie smiled, watching mother and daughter bond. “They sure are. Our son’s got a set of lungs on ‘im but we finally got back to sleep, didn’t we?” He reached a hand between the bars of Ezra’s cot and rubbed the baby’s stomach.

           Ella beamed. “And you were doubting yourself as a father. I knew you’d be perfect.” She touted triumphantly.

           “Hang on, only been one day.” He reminded her.

           “Mhm, still.” She rocked Sofia softly.

           “I never told you the meaning of their names. Their middle names, at least, you know why we chose their first names. But not their middle names.” He remembered. “Did I?”

           “No, you didn’t.”

           Alfie beckoned her over, patting his thighs. “C’mere, I’ll tell ya.”

           “Your hip.”

           “S’fine.”

           Ella relented and made herself comfortable in his lap, resting Sofia against her chest.

           “Eliana is Hebrew, well they’re both Hebrew names. But Eliana means ‘God has answered’. And Shai means gift. They’re both quite beautiful written in Hebrew. I’ll hafta show you.” Alfie rubbed Ella’s shoulder and pressed a kiss to her temple.

           “Oh, Alfie, that’s beautiful, how perfect and-” Her eyes began to well up with tears. “Oh c’mon, I feel as if I’m crying about anything nowadays.” She laughed weakly and sniffled.

           Her husband gently dabbed her tears away. “They’re tears of happiness, though, ain’t they?” He double-checked.

           “Of course. I’ve never been so happy. Forget the world outside of here, I don’t care anymore. All I need is my family. This family.” She used her free hand to guide his lips to hers. Her hand rested on the left side of his face, her fingers gently resting on the scars and abrasions leftover from the wound.

           Alfie jerked a bit involuntarily.

           She withdrew from the kiss and pulled her hand away. “I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”

           He swallowed and looked into her blue eyes. “No, love. I just…fuck you’re the only person who could ever still love me like this.”

           “Will you still love me when I’m aged? Wrinkled and grayed?” She questioned, returning her hand to his injured cheek. The pads of her fingers just barely grazing over the marred skin. She wasn’t afraid to look into his eyes, not caring about the appearance of his clouded eye.

           “Of course.” He nodded. “You’d still be beautiful to me.”

           “Then why should it be any different for you? You’re still so beautiful to me, Alfie.” She whispered and lightly pressed a kiss to his cheek before kissing his lips again. “Nothing will ever change that.”

           He sat with her for a moment. “Can you grab me a pen and paper?”

           Ella looked confused but nodded. “Sure.” She stood up and handed Sofia to him.

           “Hello, love.” He murmured softly and cradled her close.

           She grabbed her diary and returned with it to the nursery. “What do you need this for?” She wondered.

           “Here,” Alfie exchanged their daughter for the journal. He found a fresh page and uncapped the pen.

           Ella looked over his shoulder with Sofia resting in her arms. She watched as Alfie began writing in a different script. It wasn’t unfamiliar to her, she’d seen him read it before, it was the Hebrew alphabet. And yet it was still very odd to see him writing it. Very patient and learned. It wasn’t like his normal handwriting, scrawled out without much care. His hand was steady, a practiced skill that must have been taught to him by someone he cared very much about.

           “That’s Ezra.” He pointed to the characters. “Then here’s his middle name, Shai. Sorta short, reminds me of part of a menorah.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Right, Sofia’s spelled a bit differently in Hebrew. They’d spell it T-Z-O-F-I-Y-A.” He wrote the coinciding letters in Hebrew on the page. “Then Eliana. Mum didn’t spell it with a Y but some people do.” He shrugged and handed her the diary.

           “You were right.” Ella murmured. “It’s beautiful.” There was something so special about celebrating Alfie’s culture. He’d been accustomed to some of the Shelby Traveler ways so Ella was glad to learn more from him. It was empowering knowing that Mosley wanted to kill Alfie simply because he was Jewish. But Alfie survived and responded by blessing his children with Hebrew names.

~~~~~~~~~~~

           Weeks passed by at an unbelievable pace. Alfie was worried that if he blinked, he’d miss a big moment. Luckily, Ella was carefully keeping track of every milestone their twins took. She purchased two brand new journals, one a deep teal and the other a light lilac. Inside, she penned the twins’ first moments.

           Ezra’s first smile when Anthea sniffed at his feet.

           Sofia rolled over much to the delight of her father.

           Ezra managed to sleep through the whole night despite his sister waking a few times.

           Sofia laughed when Alfie kissed her cheek.

           Ezra was the first to try sitting up on his own.

           But Sofia was the first to crawl.

           Once the pages started to fill up, Ella was taken aback by how much time had passed. She had become so conditioned to expect something awful to happen when things had been going so well. Times like that couldn’t last long. Inevitably they would end with something terrible blindsiding them.

           But things maintained. It had been the longest Ella was genuinely happy. She had two beautiful children, two playful dogs, and a husband who loved her. It made her a little paranoid, always worried that something would come crashing down on their perfect world. But it stayed quiet for a very long time.

~~~~~~~~

           “Okay, try and…yes, Alfie, stay there. Oh, Anthea.” Ella sighed as she tried to get her family in frame.

           Alfie had spoiled her with a brand-new camera. Naturally, the first thing she wanted was a picture of her family all together. So, they went down to the beach to take a family portrait. Ella was setting up the shot as Alfie tried to keep both dogs still while holding Ezra and Sofia. The six-month-olds were wide awake and giggling at the dogs.

           “Ah, you little fucker, get back here.” Alfie tried to get Anthea before she dashed off to swim.

           “Alfie!” Ella scolded and snatched the pit bull by the collar. “You cannot swear in front of them anymore. They’ll start talking any day now and I don’t want them fucking spouting off your vocabulary.”

           He grinned. “You’re just as bad as me, love.”

           Ella frowned. He was right. One of her first words had been ‘shit’, after all. “We both have to work on it.” She sat Anthea down and returned to the camera to start the timer. “Ready?” She dashed back over and stood beside Alfie, wrapping an arm around his waist.

           They waited for the shutter to go off before they could all take a breath.

           “Bet it looks great.” Alfie set Ezra and Sofia down on the sand so they could play. He grunted as he lowered himself down beside them. “Look at that, aye?” He picked up a scallop shell and showed it to the twins. “What’s that, then?”

           Ezra cooed and reached for the shell.

           Ella watched from behind the camera, waiting for the perfect moment to take a candid shot. It was amazing to see how the twins had grown from little bundles to happy babies. They were healthy with pink, round cheeks. They weren’t identical, Ezra’s hair was much darker than Sofia’s. His hair reminded her more of her hair color. A very dark brown with warm chocolate highlights. Sofia’s was a beautiful lighter color with hints of honey that shone in the sun. They both had blue eyes but Ella knew from experience that the color could change. Already Ezra’s eyes were slowly melding to green. They looked like the ocean. Sofia’s eyes were starting to appear a bit browner. It thrilled Ella to think about how they would look in another month’s time. There was so much to look forward to.

           After Ella took the picture, Alfie frowned and stood up. His eyes fixed above the bluff to their home.

           “Alfie?” She asked. “What is it?”

           “Someone’s pulled up in a car.” He answered.

           “Are you expecting anyone?”

           “No.” He whistled for Cyril and began walking toward the path back up to the house, his hand slipping inside his coat.

           Ella felt a hint of dread as she realized this was it. This was when everything fell to shambles. She felt foolish for believing things would be okay.

           Alfie muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like “Tommy Fucking Shelby.” Apparently, he saw the man get out of the car before Ella could.

           Tommy noticed the two figures on the beach from the drive near the bluff. He walked over and shouted over the ledge. “Alfie!”

           “The fuck does he want, aye?”

           Ella shrugged. “I don’t know. He didn’t mention he was coming.” It had been quite some time since she heard from her brother. She naturally assumed that he was caught up in the business of trying to plan Oswald Mosley’s assassination.

           “Tommy Shelby MP, OBE, thinks he can come calling whenever the fuck he wants.” Alfie scooped up Ezra and began walking back up the bluff to the house.

           Ella picked up Sofia and began to follow them, making sure the dogs were right behind her.

           By the time she reached the drive, Alfie and Tommy were already in a heated argument.

           “You ain’t bringing your mental state here to disrupt me fucking family. That ain’t happening, mate.”

           “What is going on?” Ella paused, taking in her brother’s appearance. He looked even more sleep-deprived than usual. He was twitching and couldn’t stand still. His eyes kept shifting, glancing over his shoulder, waiting for something or someone.

           “Bring the kids inside.” Alfie handed Ezra over instead of answering his wife.

           Ella hesitated but brought the twins and the dogs inside. She could hear the shouting match escalate through the house as she put the twins in their cots. Hoping to break them up, she hurried back outside and drew Alfie away from Tommy.

           “What is going on!?” She demanded again.

           “Your brother’s come here all doped up, that’s what’s going on.” Alfie jabbed a finger at the man.

           Tommy looked ready to either pounce or rip his own hair out. His whole body was tensed up and practically trembling. His hands balled into fists. “This is it, Alfie. All those times you pointed a gun to my head. You fucking do it, right now!”

           It was nonsensical, almost as if Ella’s hearing had gone out for a moment. His words disjointed and not making any logical sense. “Tommy, what are you talking about?” She struggled to get between the two who were in each other’s faces.

           “This is it? Aye? You’ve finally lost your fucking marbles, Tommy? ‘Bout time we locked you up, right, in a fucking asylum!” Alfie shouted, his face turning red.

           “Stop it!” Ella pushed her husband back knowing he wouldn’t fight her. “Stop it right now, the both of you!” She grabbed her brother by the overcoat and physically forced him back a few steps. He was so exhausted that he couldn’t resist her and stumbled backward. “What are you on about?”

           But Tommy’s eyes were fixed on Alfie, almost like a rabid dog that had locked onto a victim. “It’s your lucky day, you finally get to blow me brains out!”

           Ella had enough and slapped him across the face. “Take a fucking breath, for Christ's sake! You're going on like a fucking lunatic.” She snapped.

           The stinging pain managed to knock Tommy back into a bit of sanity. “It all fell apart.” He gasped out; his lungs raw from screaming.

           “What did?” Ella didn’t let go of his coat so he couldn’t go after Alfie again.

           “The rally. Mosley, it all went to shit. Someone knew.”

           “Who did?” Alfie asked.

           “I don’t fucking know!” Tommy shouted. “I don’t know who!”

           Ella’s stomach dropped. She had almost been certain that Mosley was dead. Maybe it was because things had been going so well for her. But that sick man was still out there. And now he knew that the Peaky Blinders were trying to kill him.

           “He knew nothing.” Tommy pulled away from his sister and began to pace in a frenzy. “Mosley knew nothing. Then Barney was shot. Aberama was killed.” His breathing picked up pace again as he began to hyperventilate, his hands grasping tightly at his hair. “Mosley knew nothing!” He screamed.

           Ella had seen her brother in very bad states before. But never to the extreme that he was now in.

           Tommy stopped pacing and looked back at Alfie. He paused and then pointed at the man. “That’s why I’m here.”

           “What are you talking about?” Ella made sure she was still in between them.

           “He’s going to shoot me.”

           “Oh for fuck’s sake, Thomas.” Alfie threw his hands up in disbelief. “Always with the fucking dramatics. You get a grip, right, and then we’ll talk about what we’ll do next.”

           “There is no next! There’s nothing left!” Tommy began approaching Alfie again. Ella pushed his chest to keep him back. “There’s nothing left. You go get your gun and you end it. I’m fucking done.”

           “I ain’t shooting you, mate.”

           “Tommy, please, just take a breath and-”

           “I’m done!” Tommy’s voice roared across the windy landscape.

           “I ain’t killing you.” Alfie crossed his arms over his chest.

           “Fine.” Tommy shoved Ella to the side and stormed toward Alfie.

           Ella only just gathered her bearings when she turned and saw Tommy had withdrawn a gun and was pointing it to her husband’s temple. Her blood ran cold. “Tommy…put the gun down.”

           “You go inside. Get your gun and you kill me.” He replied. “Or I’m fucking shooting him.”

           “Jesus Christ, you’ve gone fucking insane.” Alfie had been at the end of Tommy’s gun before but never had he been so convinced that the man would actually pull the trigger.

           “I’m not going to kill you, Tommy.”

           “Ella, do as I say!” He shouted, his finger fidgeting on the trigger. “This is how it’s meant to be. Shelbys don’t die of old age, you fucking know that. We get killed or we kill ourselves.”

           “It doesn’t have to be this way.” Ella’s voice quivered. “Alfie and I will help you. Mosley can be defeated. He can!”

           “No. No, he can’t.” Tears were forming in Tommy’s eyes. All the emotions colliding together and driving him to madness. He just wanted to sleep.

           “Yes, he can. With Alfie’s help, we can make alliances. We’re smarter than he is, Tom.” She held out a hand to him. “Please, just put the gun down and we’ll do this together.”

           “Listen to her.” Alfie agreed steadily. “Just listen to her. We can sort this out, mate. Don’t hafta be like this.”

           In a snap decision, Tommy lowered the gun and Ella swooped in to rip it out of his hands. Her heart racing, she emptied the pistol of its bullets and tossed it into the gravel. “For fuck’s sake, Tommy.” She gasped in disbelief. “Are you high?”

           The once invincible man looked as if he was crumbling right before her eyes. “I can’t do this, El. Not anymore.” He whimpered in Rokka to her.

           “Stop, just stop.” Ella pulled him into her arms and let him unload his weight onto her. Tommy Shelby carried the world on his shoulders. To hold him was to hold Atlas.

~~~~~~~~~~

           “He said he hasn’t slept in three days.” Ella came into the kitchen where Alfie was stewing a bit.

           “So, he made it our fucking problem?” He muttered in response, never particularly enjoying having a gun shoved in his face.

           She sighed and put on the kettle. “I’m sorry.”

           “Ain’t your fault. No one needs to apologize for him. That’s his job, not yours.”

           Ella hummed in agreement and walked up to him. “What are we going to do?”

           He dropped his hands to her waist, trying to let go of the tension in his shoulders. “No fucking clue.” He admitted. “I assumed-well I figured he had in under control.”

           “Yeah, I did too.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and let her fingers tease the hair grazing the nape of his neck.

           Alfie drew her in close, letting her rest her chin on his shoulder. She glanced out the kitchen window behind him. Gazing out across the small lawn that overlooked the bluff. Something stirring in the garden made her perk up a bit. She almost expected another stray dog to come wandering onto the property like Anthea had. Instead, a dark shadow of a cat slunk out of a bush. Its tail flicked in the air as it crossed the trimmed lawn. For a moment it paused and seemed to listen to something, its ears pointing back. Then as suddenly as it had appeared, it dashed off.

           “We need to find the black cat.” She whispered.

           “Huh?” Alfie tilted his face towards here. “Didya say something, love?”

           “No. No, I didn’t say anything.” She buried her face in his neck and began making a list of all the people who would betray her family.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla​ @giftofdreams​ @biba3434​ @kimmietea​ @karmezii​ @enrapturedbythemoon​ @vampgirl1997​ @tarafaithe​

Tag list: @deaflikehawkeye​ @octaviareina​ @mylovelykelsifer​ @doubletriplepowerbomb​ @ramblingbaby​ @fuseburner​ @kaetastic​

Masterpost

PB Masterlist

[heathsbitch]

Treat You Better ➳ PEAKY BLINDERS

xi. IMPURITY*

          Ivy's eyes opened to a burning light. Heat flickered over her body. The fire was lit. The room was silent apart from the occasional crackle of burning wood. She groaned, trying to sit up from her position on the sofa. "Don't. You need to rest." A soft voice told her. Turning her head, Ivy saw Polly sat next to the girl, her hand on her shoulder. She pushed Ivy back down onto the couch. Tear stains ran under her eyes. "What happened?" Ivy asked her. "They took him." Polly choked out, the tears threatening to come pouring out again. Then Ivy remembered, Michael got arrested. "Are you okay?" Ivy reached her hand up to caress Polly's cheek. She nodded silently and took her hand in her own. "It's getting late, you should head up to bed." With her other hand, she caressed the girl's hair. "Only if you're okay." Again, she silently nodded. Slowly, Ivy sat up from the couch and swung her legs to place her feet on the floor. She raised her arms and embraced Polly in a warm hug, "We'll get him back, Pol. I promise." She let out a sob but stopped herself almost immediately. "Go." She laughed lightly and she ushered the Solomons upstairs.

Ivy woke up to Polly gently shaking her, "We have to go and see Tommy. He's called us all in for a meeting." It only took the girl ten minutes to get dressed and ready to go to Tommo's house. In no time, they were in the car and on the way to Small Heath. They all waited in the gaming den. Esme, John, Polly, Finn and Ivy silently waited for Tommo to arrive. Apparently he was visiting Ivy's mother. He had probably slept with her, Tom had that type of reputation around him. As long as there was no serious relationship there, Ivy had nothing to worry about. As much as she liked Thomas, she didn't want him to be her step-father. Polly puffed on a cigarette, Esme stared out of the window, John sat quietly at a desk and Finn paced anxiously. Ivy had been told by John that Arthur had also been taken, along with Michael. "I-I shouldn't be here," The girl muttered. "This is a family meeting and I'm not family." Nobody objected to her ideas, so she began to leave. "Ivy, wait!" Finn chased after the girl but before she could leave, the door opened and in stepped Tommy. "Where do you think you're going?" He grabbed her arms and dragged her back inside. "I don't belong here Tommo. This is a family meeting and I'm not family."

"Stay," Was all he said. And so Ivy did. She took her place next to Finn and he grabbed the girl's hand. His lips turned up at the corners to show sympathy. "John?" Thomas asked for a report on what had happened last night. "The coppers have lifted ten of our men in Camden Town. The rest are on the run."

"They've taken Michael." Finn told his older brother. Ivy decided that it would be best if she stayed quiet, she still didn't feel comfortable there. "Business first." Thomas informed Finn. "They took Michael-" Polly stormed over to her nephew but he interrupted her. "Business first." He repeated. They started to talk over each other and Tommy eventually had to shout at her. "Polly, business first!" Polly stayed quiet, her hands tied in front of her. He turned back to his brother. "John?"

"They took all our whiskey, so they'll be sipping that for Christmas. They've impounded all our vans, put their own locks on the warehouse. The Eden club and all our pubs have been raided by the coppers and handed back to Sabini and Solomons." At the mention of her father's name, Ivy apologised. "Tommo, I'm sorry ab-"

"You don't need to apologise for what your father's done." Tommy turned back to John to urge him to continue again. "The Black Country boys think it was Arthur who killed Billy Kitchen 'cause that's what the coppers told them. So there'll be no more free passes for our whiskey boats." Polly walked forward and began to rant to her nephews. "I don't care about whiskey. I don't give a fuck about Billy Kitchen. I want my son out of prison! Now!" Esme stepped forward, wanting to continue with business. Tommo stayed quiet. "I spoke to Johnny Dogs."

"This meeting should be just family." Polly spat. Ivy began to feel even more out of place than she had before. "Then what's Ivy doing here? Besides, I can help." Esme defended. "I'll just go." The girl mumbled and started to leave while Polly and Esme had their argument. She pulled herself from Finn's grasp and went to walk out the door. "Let her speak," Thomas shouted so Esme could have her say. Polly shouted over her nephews orders, clearly annoyed at the fact that they weren't doing anything to save her son. Ivy could understand her pain. "Enough! Enough, Polly. Ivy, stay. Esme?" Finn tugged the Solomons back into his arms. He stood behind her, his body towering over the girl's small frame. His arms rested on her shoulders and connected around her front, her hands held his.

"I spoke to Johnny Dogs, the Lees are kin." Esme spoke in a calm voice. "The bloody Lees!" Polly yelled. "They can give us men!" Esme's voice raised, Polly was started to anger her. "We don't need more fucking men!" Polly spat. "It's men that have done the damage," She did have a good point, but they weren't all to blame. She quietened her voice to continue speaking, "It is men fighting like cockerels that have got us here in the first place." Thomas stared at Polly, then ignored Polly's long remark and spoke to Esme. "Esme, we'll take up their offer. We need men." He looked at Polly at the end of his sentence. The room was silent. Polly and Thomas very rarely argued so this was a shock to them all. Michael was changing her. She was becoming more cautious, more protective of her family. "If Michael ever gets out of prison, I am taking him away from this family. For good. You too Ivy, you're one of us now," Polly walked around to stand in front of Finn and Ivy, speaking about how 'this life is bad'. Polly grabbed their arms and led them out of the betting shop. "This life is all bad." Tommo didn't protest. But Finn did, slightly. "Aunt Pol, what are you doing?" He asked his aunt. "Shut up and walk." She instructed the pair.

Polly led them outside of the house and to where the cars were waiting. "Don't take any orders from Tommy while I'm gone." She began to put her coat and hat on. "Where are you going?" Ivy questioned her. "To save Michael." And with that, she left. Straight into her own car without another word. Ivy sighed and lent against the cold, brick wall of the house. "Are you alright?" She bobbed her head to Finn's question. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" The girl said with a small smile. The truth was, she wasn't alright. Ivy didn't know what it was, but ever since she had seen her mum, she hadn't felt like she'd fitted in. There was just something putting her off. Or maybe it was something pulling her back towards her mum and brother. Or maybe it was her father, the guilt finally starting to eat her up. She couldn't be sure, though. "I know when you're lying, Doll." Finn told the girl. Ivy sighed again but defended herself, "I'm not lying." She kept her eyes trained on the other side of the street. "Yes you are. You're not looking at me and whenever you lie, you can't keep eye contact."

"That's not true." Ivy turned to look at the boy but her gaze danced along the cars behind him. "Yes it is! You're doing it now!" He laughed when he spoke. "What's wrong?" Finn moved to grab her hand to try and console her. "I just don't belong here, with you, with the Shelbys." He got closer to Ivy. "What do you mean?" She took a deep breath and let out all of her thoughts and feelings to her best friend. "It's just ever since I saw my mother again, I've felt like I don't belong here. Things have changed for me. Maybe it's Michael, I don't know, but something feels different. I'm constantly on edge and all I want to do is cry but I don't know why. I just want to see my mum and brother again but if I left here, I'd feel bad for leaving you. But, you probably wouldn't care anyway."

Her heart rate increased ten-fold as she ranted to Finn and tears crawled out of her eyes and down her porcelain cheeks. "Ivy, of course I would care," He pulled her into a hug and she began to cry into his shoulder. "Of course I would care," Finn repeated in Ivy's ear. She had noticed that he could handle a girl having an emotional breakdown a lot better than he did the first time. Maybe he had been talking with Ada or even Polly. "You do belong here. You fit in better than I ever could and will. You're brave and so, so strong. You're fucking incredible, Ivy and everyone here cares for you, everyone. Please, don't leave." His voice cracked at his last words. "Thank you, Finn." They pulled out of the hug but he kept his hands on her shoulders. "I didn't even know that you had seen your mum." He informed the girl. "We haven't spoken properly in a while." Ivy told him. "I should take you back home. That's what Polly would've wanted. You can tell me everything in the car," He stood up and walked to the car. "If you're alright with telling me, that is."

"Yes, that's fine." She laughed and got into his car.

The journey back to the house in Sutton was filled with her telling Finn everything that had happened in the past few days, leaving out everything that had happened with Mickey. Ivy decided that Finn should not know about that, not now and, maybe, never. Pulling her keys out of her jacket pocket, she slid them into the door and walked inside, Finn close behind her. "Ivy, I have something to tell you." Worry filled the Solomons. She lightly touched his arm "What's wrong?" She asked.

"Nothing," Finn laughed at the girl's concern "I just wanted to tell you that I learnt the alph-the alphabet." They sat down on the sofa together. "That's amazing, Finn. Can you recite it to me?" He nodded but hesitated. "A. B. C. D. E. F. G. H. I . J .K . L, M, N, O? P?" Ivy beamed at him, urging him to continue. "Q. R. S. T. U. V. W. X. Y and Z." He took little pauses between each letter but got it perfect. "Perfect, well done Finn." He looked proud of himself and wore a smile across his plump lips. "Do you think you're ready for the poem now?" Finn agreed to her suggestion pulled it out of his own pocket. He carefully handed it to Ivy "I'll read it first and then I want you to copy and remember it, okay?" He nodded again, complying to her instructions. She began to read the story to him, memories of her as a child and her father came flooding into her mind but she tried to push them away.

"They went to sea in a sieve they did, in a sieve they went to sea. In spite of all their friends could say, on a winter's morn, on a stormy day, in a sieve they went to sea. Far and few, far and few are the lands where the jumblies live. Their heads are green and their hands are blue. And they went to sea in a sieve."

Ivy read it slowly and made sure to sound out all of the words and syllables properly. Finn stared at her as she read the poem. She finished and looked up at him. His gaze was intense yet warm. "N-now you try." Ivy stuttered, her voice barely a whisper. The Solomons girl stared back at the Shelby boy. The gap between them got smaller and smaller as their bodies got closer to one another. His eyes fluttered shut and hers followed suit. Their faces were millimeters apart, their breathing fanning each other's faces.

But the moment was ruined by the door creaking open signifying that Polly was home. They jumped away from each other, their breathing heavy. Polly came into the living room, her make-up was running down her face as were tears, Ada along with her. "Pol, shit. Are you okay?" Ivy immediately got up from her seat and engulfed Polly in a hug. Slowly, Ivy ran her hand through her hair to comfort her, similar to how she had comforted the girl last night after she'd passed out. Ada turned to Finn, "Finn, you should go home, we can take it from here."

"Alright." And with that he left. Ivy led Polly to the sofa and sat her down carefully. "Do you want to talk about it?" She asked cautiously. Pol shook her head slightly so Ivy decided not to ask anymore questions about that. "Do you want me to run a bath?" She looked incredibly stressed out and Ivy thought that baths were a good way to help you relax and calm down. Ivy led Polly up the stairs. Pol sat down on the sofa whilst Ivy filled the bath up with hot water. "It's ready. I can leave if you want."

"No, stay. But can you get me some whiskey, please?" Polly croaked out. Ivy smiled, it was good to hear her speak. "Of course." When she came back into the room, the Shelby woman was in the bath and running her hands up her arms. Ivy handed her the bottle of whiskey and a glass that she had grabbed from the kitchen. "Thank you." She took the bottle and glass off of the girl and poured some out. Ivy sat down on the chair that was in there and awkwardly stared at the woman. She tried to keep her eyes off of her, the girl wanted Polly to keep her dignity.

An unknown amount of time passed before Ivy heard the door open and close. She turned around to see who it was. "Where have you been?" Ada asked her aunt. She came and sat down next to the Solomons and gave her a small smile. Ivy thought Ada must've picked her up from wherever she was, rather than being with her the whole time. "I went to the Spotted Dog in Digbeth," She told the girls. "For a glass or two of rum." She was clearly feeling more relaxed than what she was earlier. "Was it one glass or two?" Ada asked Polly. "It was three. Where's the baby?" Ivy had had the privilege of meeting Karl a couple of weeks ago. She thought he was the cutest little thing ever and he reminded her of how much she wanted her brother back.

"Sleeping." Polly hummed as a response. "Are you sure it wasn't five?" Ivy lightly joked with Polly and Ada let out a small giggle. "It was more like six." She chuckled softly. Ada looked more concerned than anything at that point. Polly reached for the whiskey that the girl had given her. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to get her that. "Did you meet the maid?" Polly asked as she leaned back in the bath. "I talked politics with her and she got bored and went to bed." Ivy let out a faint laugh at Ada's words and she lightly tapped her arm to scold her in a joking manner. Polly laughed and lit a cigarette as Ada continued to talk. "I called James. He talked to the lawyer anyway. Said he'd take Arthur's case for free, so we don't need Tommy." Pol let out a heavy breath at the mention of Tommo. "Pol," Ivy started. "We'll get Michael out as well, I promise." She reassured her and looked towards Ada. "There's no need, they'll let him out in the morning." She told them. "What? Why? What did you do?" Ivy fired her questions at Polly but she didn't answer any of them. "If the baby wants anything at night, ring the bell by the bed. She gets paid to work 24 hours that girl, she's getting lazy,"

Polly continued to take drags from her cigarette "Well, take advantage of her." Ada stared at her aunt, a mix of emotions ran through her head as they did with Ivy's. Ada got up and left, the girl followed shortly behind. "I hope you're alright." She said to Polly as she left.Ivy found Ada in the living room, nursing a glass of wine. "So what are you doing here?" She asked her, nobody had told the girl anything about her coming to stay. "I'm staying for a while. To help with the whole Arthur situation since Tommy's not going to be much of a help."

"Fair enough." Ivy went into the kitchen to grab another glass then went back to where Ada was and poured herself a drink. "Are you old enough to drink?" She joked with the girl whilst she sat down. "Really?" Ivy let out a laugh. "So," She began and leaned back in her chair. "You and Finn, eh?" She immediately put her defenses up. Surely she didn't know about the alley or what happened barely ten minutes ago. "What do you mean me and Finn?" She shook her head and smiled. "You know what I mean."

"We're just friends." Ivy told her. "Mmm, 'friends'. You know, he talks about you all the time." The young girl sipped her wine slowly. "No he doesn't." Ada laughed again and sipped her own wine. "Yes he does. A couple of weeks ago, when Tommy was in the hospital and he held you back, he would not shut up about you and you had only just met." Ivy blushed at her words, she only ever thought of them as friends but things were beginning to rapidly change between them. "I think he really likes you. He's never, really, been close to any girls before. You're the first one."

"Oh, I feel so honoured." Ivy said sarcastically. "I know it's probably not my business but I think you like him back." She shook her head, denying Ada's accusations. "No, no, definitely not." She chuckled at the girl's reaction. "Yes, you do! You giggle at all his jokes, blush when somebody mentions his name and you get really defensive when somebody brings up the fact that you might like him!" Ivy downed the rest of her wine and stood up from the couch. "I am going to bed. Goodnight Ada." Ada laughed at her bluntness. "You never answered my question," Ivy stuck her middle finger up as she walked out. "You loooove him." Ada teased as Ivy walked up the stairs and to her room.

The truth was that Ivy didn't know how she felt about Finn. Like Ada said, Finn had never been close to any girls before. Well, Ivy had never been close to any guys before. She didn't know whether she 'liked' him or not. They were friends, that almost had sex in alley way. But, they were drunk and it didn't mean anything. They were friends, that always held hands. But, he was just being supportive, nothing more. They were friends, that had almost kissed. But, there was no excuse that time. Ivy cast the thoughts aside as she got dressed for bed. She slipped her mint, silk nightgown on and got into bed. Her mind was filled with anxious thoughts of Polly. She was curious as to what happened but Ivy had to respect her privacy as well. She just hoped she was okay.

Ivy slept in late the next day. She didn't have to work for Thomas so she was free for the day. Ada had gone out to work on her plan of rescuing Arthur and Polly had gone to pick Michael up so Ivy was all alone in the house. Worry filled the girl, she didn't know how Michael was going to act when he got home. Would he be soft and kind? Or rude and mean? She decided it would probably be the latter.

The Solomons decided to help out the maid with some basic house-work. Polly called her lazy but she was up all night helping with Karl so Ivy thought she would clean the house while the maid and the baby got some rest. She walked from room to room, tidying up and dusting the place. It was spotless by the time she had finished. Then the door opened. A dark figure stood at the doorway, he didn't move, he didn't speak. He just stood there, a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. He moved into the light, Michael. But he looked different. Cuts and scratches ran across his face and probably continued onto his chest as well. "You're going to need those cuts cleaning. You don't want them to get infected." Ivy knew he wouldn't care for sentiment so she got straight down to business. Her voice was quiet though, he still intimidated the girl, even in the vulnerable situation he was in. Ivy could see Polly standing behind him, her hand on her mouth. "You should let her help, Michael. Seriously you do-"

"Alright." He agreed bluntly. Ivy gave Polly a look but asked Michael to follow her upstairs and to her room. "Just sit on my bed; I'll be back in a minute." Ivy left him in her room as she went to get a bucket of water, a clean cloth and some alcohol. Walking back into the room, her eyes landed on her boss. He sat on the end of the girl's bed, hunched over and staring at his bloody knuckles whilst a cigarette rested in the other hand. The slightly rusty bucket sat on the floor next to her as Ivy started to clean up Michael's wounds. She was resting on her knees, in between his legs. Her hands dipped into the bucket of lukewarm water to soak the cloth. She cleaned his knuckles first. The blood resting there probably wasn't his which meant that he had been fighting in prison. Her heart sank as Ivy looked over him again.

Seeing him in pain scared her, she didn't know how he would react. Raising her hand up to his face, she carefully wiped away the dried blood. He winced, indicating his wounds were fresh so Ivy took more caution.

She cleaned more and more of the blood away, leaving his face free from the red stain, only the fresh cuts were left. The water in the bucket had turned into a strange shade of crimson from the blood. His shirt had become damp around his neck from the water droplets that ran off of him.

"I need you to take off your shirt." She whispered timidly "What? I didn't catch that, princess." Michael responded, his accent seemingly thicker than usual. He was teasing her because of how quiet she was. Michael knew he made the girl nervous, ever since that day in the office. And even when injured, he continued to flirt with the girl. Ivy's legs stiffened as she stood up. Before speaking, she wiped her hands on her long skirt, "I need you to remove your shirt." The girl repeated, louder this time. The expression on his face didn't change as his, now clean, hands lifted up to the buttons on his shirt. He gradually undid his shirt then threw it to the other side of the room.

His hands rested on his knees, a pose that granted him so much power and dominance. Ivy's eyes burned into his body. Muscles lined his light skin. For somebody who had come from a fairly tame life, he had a very toned body. The Solomons took a second to recompose herself, Michael stared at her. Ivy got back on her knees in front of him. He leaned back a little bit so she could have more access to his chest. Her hands entered the bucket once more. Timidly, Ivy reached up to his torso so she could clean him. He groaned under her touch. A wave of worry washed over the girl, she didn't want him to hurt her. "Sorry." She apologised and put a hand on his knee so she could balance herself. "It's alright, princess," He soothed Ivy with his words. "Don't worry about hurting me." After cleaning the wounds on his chest with water, Ivy reached for the bottle of alcohol. "This is gonna hurt like a bitch so brace yourself."

"Nothing's worse than mum on a bad day. Just go slowly, please." He joked to ease some tension and Ivy giggled in response. She knew all too well what Polly could be like on a bad day. A small smile rested upon his lips but quickly disappeared when he noticed the girl looking at him smiling. Ivy pulled the cork out of the bottle of alcohol and poured some onto a fresh cloth. "Here, you might want a swig of this before I start." Handing over the bottle, he took a couple of gulps and put it onto the bedside table. The girl placed the cloth onto the large gash that ran across his chest. A cry of pain erupted from his throat and he grabbed onto her wrist, he had a grip so tight that would definitely bruise later on. "Fuck!" He cried out. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Ivy apologised profusely and pulled away, "No," He shouted, "Keep going." He pushed her hand onto his chest and she put her other one on his knee. Her face was only millimeters from his.

She could feel his heavy breath fanning her face. "Done. I'm done." Ivy exclaimed as she finished cleaning his injuries. Michael's grasp on her wrist loosened a little bit but he still held it against his chest, Ivy had dropped the cloth so it no longer held a barrier between them. Their breathing mingled with each other, sweat covered his body.

Silence settled on the room. It wasn't awkward though, it was comfortable, soothing almost. "Are you okay?" Ivy broke the silence. Michael groaned, "Yeah," He pulled away from the girl and let go of her wrist. Both of her hands now rested on his knees, she was still squished in between his legs. His eyes met hers. They held warmth and comfort, yet anger at the same time. They flickered between her lips and her own eyes. Getting closer to Ivy's face, Michael cupped her cheek with his hand. A tingling sensation flew across her body. His lips met hers. He kissed her. She couldn't believe what had happened so her grip on his knees just tightened.

Their lips danced together, teeth clashing. Then he slipped his tongue into her mouth. Something that had started out as just an innocent kiss was escalating quickly. Ivy moaned into his mouth and he pulled her closer. Michael was sitting on the edge of the bed, her chest pressed into his crotch. That's when she felt it, a hard object pressing into her breasts. Ivy's heart furiously thumped against her chest, she was scared he could feel it. The girl thought nothing more of the item that was flush against her and focused on the kiss. He moaned and pulled away from her. One string of spit connected their mouths together. He laughed and swiped it from her lips.

Looking down at the hardness between his legs, "Look what you did to me. Look how crazy you drive me," Both of his hands cradled Ivy's face and he stared into her eyes yet again. "I have something to confess, Ivy. I quite like you," She knelt there in silence as he continued to confess to her.

"You're bad that's what I like. You've got a darkness inside of you, just like me. You're not afraid to speak up or argue your point. You're not scared of no one. I bet Tommy doesn't even scare ya'," Ivy was stunned, she didn't know what to say so she stayed quiet. "You're dangerous," He whispered, "And so am I," His eyes came back to meet hers and a smirk grew onto his face "Being in prison changed me. I learned that it's okay to let the darkness take over. I'm not as bad as Tommy, by no means, but I'm sure I could still show you a good time. Even better than he could." He whispered the last part of his speech in her ear. That's what sent Ivy over the edge. She could feel herself pooling in her knickers. He chuckled as he noticed the effect he had on the girl. He was starting to scare her though. Ivy had seen what Michael was capable of doing. "Come 'ere, doll." Then he kissed her again, with even more passion that time. His tongue trailed her lips, a moan falling out in the process. Michael pulled away, again. "Now let's do something about this shall we." He gestured to the hard-on he was nursing in his trousers. "Mickey," He groaned at his nickname. "I-I've never done this before."

"It's alright. I'll help you." He comforted Ivy. Her shaking hands undid the button on his trousers, pulling them down. He lifted up so she could fully remove them. The bulge was now in her face. A whimper tumbled from her lips as Ivy took his boxers off. Ivy thought Mickey noticed her staring, "I know, I know. Don't worry, princess." He reassured her. Hands slipping into her hair, he pushed her closer to his cock. Ivy lifted her own hands and grabbed onto it. She stroked it a couple of times before bringing it to her mouth. As they made contact, a loud, "Fuuck." came from Michael's mouth. Ivy bobbed her head up and down his shaft, trying to fit all of it in her mouth. Once Michael managed to focus again he told her what to do next. "Put this hand here." He took one of the girl's hands off of his large cock and guided it to his balls. She rolled them in her hand as she continued to work her mouth around his length.

Moans and groans fell from his lips like a prayer, her name coming off of them like a chant. "Shit, princess. Are you sure you've never done this before?" This comment encouraged her to go harder, and faster. Ivy's mouth furiously sucked his cock, her hand taking what her mouth couldn't.

A particularly loud groan elicited from his mouth and he pushed her head into his crotch. It was Ivy's turn to whimper. Michael's hands gripped and tugged at the Solomons' hair, turning her on even more. Her panties were definitely soaked. Ivy closed her eyes as Mickey began to thrust into her mouth. Gags came fast from her, his cock stretching her mouth and her throat, the sound echoing through the small room. "Fuck, I'm close, Ivy." He warned the girl as he continued to thrust mercilessly into her oesophagus. She was still deep-throating him when he came. Warm, white liquid dripped down her throat. He drew his member out of Ivy's mouth. Spit and cum was attached to it and it hung between his dick and her throat. "You look so pretty like that. Dirty little slut," He complimented then degraded the girl.

Hands gripping onto Ivy's waist, Michael pulled her up so she was now standing. "This isn't fair, is it?" He pointed out the fact that the girl was still fully clothed. Veiny hands gradually undid the buttons on her shirt. He then turned her around so he could unzip her skirt. Michael slapped Ivy's ass and spun her back around. "Fuck." He groaned again as he took in her half naked appearance. A black lace bra covered the girl's breasts, a matching set of panties with stockings and garters rested on her body. It was one of the sets that Ada and Ivy bought for her birthday. He moved his hands again, this time tracing her bra strap and pulling it from her shoulder. He was now standing up, towering over the girl. Mickey kissed Ivy's neck, sucking a purple mark onto it. He moved to the other side and did the same thing, traveling to her clavicle after he finished. Unclipping her bra, he ripped it from the girl. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, "I like these." He remarked and moved to her panties. They were stood there, completely naked, bodies burning for each other. They could easily be caught at any moment, but that fact only spurred Michael on more.

He sat down and pulled Ivy onto his lap. Their lips met again for a final kiss as he moved his fingers to cup her pussy. He ran a finger across her slit. "Dirty girl. So wet for your boss." He purred in the girl's ear. A high-pitched squeal came from her throat. He slid a finger inside. "Mickey." Ivy whined. He immediately pulled out. "No. You address me as Boss or Sir," She stayed silent so he wrapped his hand around her throat. "Am I understood?" Michael whispered in Ivy's ear. She nodded her head furiously. "Good girl." He lined himself up with her pussy and pulled the girl onto his length. A whine of euphoria lept from Ivy and she clenched onto Mickey's shoulders for support. He wrapped one arm around her waist and the other around her shoulders.

She bounced, slowly at first so she could get used to the sheer size of Michael. "Fuck, you're so tight," Michael groaned in Ivy's ear. Moans filled the room yet again, coming from the both of them. "Can I go harder?" Michael asked and Ivy giggled at the fact that he was asking permission after everything they'd already done that night. "Yeah." was her reply. He brought his hand back to her throat and squeezed once again. "What was that?" Ivy whined at the pressure on her neck. "Yes, Sir." He groaned at the name. "That's better." He released his hand and moved them to her hips. He moved the girl faster, his thrusts matching the speed of her bounces. Ivy's head was thrown back by the pleasure Michael was giving to her. With no warning, Michael threw Ivy onto the mattress underneath him so he could be in control. "Mic-Sir!" She cried out, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. His thrusts hit the girl's core, sparks flying between the two of them.

His head rested in the crook of her neck, the feeling getting to him as well. That position didn't last long though. He sat up and pulled one of her legs over his shoulder. Michael's hands kept him steady at either side of her head as he plunged into Ivy's pussy. "You feel so good, princess." He bellowed. The maid was definitely awake by now and could definitely hear the pair but that only fuelled him more. "Mickey. I think I-I'm close." Ivy stuttered "Just hold on a little longer for me, Ivy." Michael's pace doubled. He was now reaching parts of Ivy that she didn't even know she had. She screamed in ecstasy. Michael pushed his hand to her throat and squeezed. He didn't squeeze extremely hard, just the right amount of pressure. Her eyes fluttered shut. Michael leaned in to whisper in Ivy's ear, "Open your eyes, angel; I wanna see you fall apart." That sent the girl flying forward, clutching onto his body. A wave of euphoric pleasure crashed over Ivy. Her nails dragged over Mickey's back, leaving marks that would probably be there for the next few days. It was Michael's turn next. "Shit!" He shouted in her ear as he reached his own climax. He pulled out and furiously rubbed his cock. Ropes of hot cum shot out of it, his hand slowly bringing him down from his own high. He reached for one of the clean cloths and cleaned the two of them up, ridding Ivy of the evidence of that night's activities.

He collapsed on top of her. After a couple minutes of blissful silence, he rolled off of the girl and pulled her into his chest. Sweat glazed his body, his beautiful eyes were closed and small huffs were leaving his nose. He looked perfect. Michael pulled a blanket over them, just in case anyone did walk in. He pulled her into his body and cradled the girl in his arms. Everything hurt but Ivy didn't care. That sex was incredible and she had just lost her virginity, to her boss. Tommo would kill her if he found out, and so would Polly, but Ivy didn't care, she craved Michael.

"That was pretty good for your first time, princess."

xii. THE REUNION

MASTERLIST

[wkemeup]

The Witness (2)

series summary: After witnessing a Hydra hit and the handsome, flirtatious  cop who had become a regular at your bar takes it upon himself to ensure your safety off the books, you learn to rely on someone else for a change and find you don’t mind it at all. Not when it’s him.

pairing: detective!bucky x reader

word count: 5.8k

warnings: flirty bucky AF 

author’s note: idk about you guys but I’m ready to really get this series to get into the good stuff!  lots of sweet/flirty bucky in this chapter before some angst hits ya soon 😉

series masterlist // previous chapter 

You had only ridden in the back of a police car twice in your life. The first had been when you were seven years old. Legs too short to reach the floor, swinging nervously and tapping against the passenger seat, eliciting a sharp glare from the officer staring at you in the sideview mirror. You had your arms wrapped tightly around a small brown bear. It was old and tattered but it was one you’d had since you were a baby.

There were blood stains in its fur.  

Your father was sitting on your left, staring at the window as he pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes brimming with tears. He’d never been one to let his emotion hang on his sleeve and it was the last time he’d allowed you to witness it.

Sirens wailed as the car zipped through the busy streets of New York at an hour you’d never seen before. Not quite understanding what was happening, you were caught up in the lights of the city, mesmerized as they blurred into colorful streaks the faster the car sped through the traffic. It wasn’t until you arrived at the station and your father had been hulled off for questioning until you told the nice woman in blue about the man who had hurt your mommy.

Your second time was admittedly much worse. The sharp awareness of the events that had transpired rendering on an endless loop in the back of your mind. You couldn’t shake the image from your mind no matter how hard you tried. Charlie’s eyes boring into yours. The deafening sound of the gun shot. The way his body fell so limply to the ground. The blood – so much blood. Cold, distant brown eyes.

“You alright back there?”

You blinked a few times, trying to pull back your focus. You looked up at the review mirror to see Detective Barnes’ glance flickering back to you as he drove; a few seconds on the road, one back at you, repeat. You licked your lips and turned to look out the window – anything to avoid those blue eyes that seemed to see right through you.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, folding your arms protectively over your chest.

He had started to say something else when his partner, Wilson, hit him in the arm. The rest of the ride was silent save for the wailing of the siren.

By the time you reached the station, you were lost in your own thoughts. The door clicked open and you sat there, unmoving, for an additional minute before Detective Wilson carefully led you out of the car. It was quiet by the station, you noticed. Flashes of bright lights of photographers had lined your walkway to this very station when you were a child. Charlie’s murder wasn’t as newsworthy as your mother’s it seemed.

“I’ll get you some coffee,” Wilson said as he opened the door for you to step inside. A wave of cool air hit your skin and you shivered. “Barnes’ll take you to the interview room.”

Your eyes were squinting, attempting to shield yourself from the influx of florescent lighting. You flinched as the copier kicked into gear. It was too busy in this building for this hour of the night. A blinding headache pulsed at the nape of your neck. Twisting in your fingers, you realized you had been fidgeting with your necklace.

“How do you like it?”

You blinked. “W-what?”

Wilson smiled softly, nodding towards the coffee machine. “It ain’t good, but sometimes we can mask how shitty it is if you take something in it. I tend to go for the mocha creamer.”

“Which you steal from me, thief," a red-haired woman called from her desk without missing a beat as she typed away. She didn’t even lift her eyes to look as him.

He feigned offense and then leaned in closer before he spoke again, like he was telling a secret. “I can still get it for you, if you like.”

The red-head rolled her eyes, though she had started to laugh to herself. You found the very edge of your lip tugging, trying to pull a smile out of you, though it fell just as quick as it appeared. You were impressed he was able to get that much from you, anyway.

“Sure,” you said, your voice more broken than you realized. “One sugar, too?”

This got him smiling. He gave you a thumbs up before jogging over to the coffee table.

“Come on,” Detective Barnes gestured, “this way.”

You nodded, following him in a bit of a daze down the long corridor. He glanced back over his shoulder every few paces, almost as if he was checking to make sure you were still behind him. You were busy watching one of the officers dressed in official uniform lean against the wall, his forearm resting above the head of a young woman as she looked up at him over the top of her coffee. They were smiling at one another, laughing quietly as if sharing a secret. You didn’t know the last time you’d ever been on the end of a look like that unless it was surface level teasing. It reminded you a little bit of – oof.

You bumped right into Barnes’ back as he paused unexpectedly, face hitting square between his shoulder blades and he spun around to steady you. Snapped back into reality, your eyes fell down to his hands gripping your arms and he quickly pulled away as if he had burned you. He was being suspiciously quiet for the man who couldn’t stop running his mouth when he sat at your bar.  

“Hey, Barnes, you ready?” A man stepped out from behind the closed door to your left. With a black suit jacket, carefully groomed goatee, and thick rimmed glasses, he didn’t exactly fit the part of the other cops roaming around. He pressed out a smile when he looked in your direction before his eye caught the officer and woman huddled in the breakroom through the window and he shouted, “Flirt with the analysts on your own time, Ward!”

The two quickly ducked away from one another.

“Stark,” Barnes grumbled. He didn’t seem pleased to see him. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought you could use some backup,” he quipped, shoving a file of papers into Barnes’ chest as he gestured for you to follow him into the room. You didn’t know why you did, but you looked to Barnes first, sending him a cautious look and waited until he nodded slightly before you took another step.

Dark grey drywall lined the open space and a long, horizontal mirror was imbedded in the wall to your left. In the center of the room, a metal table. Two single chairs facing one another and a silver bar fastened to the top of the table where a pair of hand cuffs could be woven through to bind the suspect in place. You weren’t a fool. You knew what this was.

“An interrogation room?” You paused at the entry way, nails digging into your skin.

Barnes clenched his jaw and cursed under his breath, though it seemed more directed at himself than anything else. Slowly, he nodded. “It’s just to talk.”

“You think I’m a suspect,” you gawked, more of a statement than a question. There was a reason you weren’t quick to trust cops. First on scene was always the prime suspect; your father had taught you that as a kid. Don’t go to the cops, they won’t believe you. They’ll take one look at your last name and think the worst. You sent an accusatory glare at Barnes and he shook his head, holding his hands up defensively.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You’re not not saying that.”

Barnes sighed, now running his hands through his short, dark hair; couldn’t keep the damn things still. He was looking at you like you were a child, lost and scared, like you were something to be pitied. It was starting to make your skin boil.

“We can’t officially rule it out until we go through the evidence and you give a statement,” he started, “I’m sure you’re familiar with how this goes -”

“What makes you say that?” you snapped, unable to hold your tongue any longer. “You think because of the people I serve in my bar that I’m dirty? Is that it? You don’t know shit about me, Barnes. You come into my bar a few times a week for a month and you think you have some kind of profile on me but-”

“We know your mom was killed by a hitman when you were a kid,” Stark's voice cut you off, carrying the kind of austerity that set you off guard. He said it so simply, so matter of fact, that it made you freeze in your tracks. You swallowed, pressing your lips together tightly as your heart started to pick up in pace. He leaned against the table.

“Tony,” Barnes warned, his voice low. “Watch yourself.”

Stark didn’t pay him any mind as he turned and sat on the edge of the table, folding his arms over his chest. “We know that your father was involved with trafficking drugs for Hydra. The same organization who hired the hitman that killed your mom, by the way.”

Barnes shouted for Stark to ‘back the hell off’, but he didn’t listen.

“We know that you now run the bar he used a front to sell heroin to poor kids on the street,” Stark continued. “We also know you have a big mouth and put on a brave little face for those low-lifes who pay your bills, but underneath it all, you're scared as shit. Maybe you can handle a bar filled of misdemeanors and petty thieves, but you don’t stand a chance against the big guns and you know it.”

You were seething as Stark pushed himself off the table and walked around to kick out the chair closest to the wall.

“Now - Sit. Down.”

Despite the rage boiling in your veins, you crossed the room and sat down in the chair, keeping your eyes trained on his with a burning look of disdain upon your features.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Stark?” Barnes grimaced, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You know more than you’re letting on,” Stark sneered at you, slamming a fist against the table enough for it to make you jump. “You’ve had a hand in your father’s business this whole time, haven't you? Haven’t you!”

"Stark!” Barnes barked, enough for his fellow Detective to take a few steps back. You exhaled a heavy breath. “This isn’t how I want you treating my witness.”

“What so she’s your witness?” Stark snapped back, momentum already riling up again. “You think this case is yours because you spend a few nights in her bar and maybe a little something on the si-”

“Enough!”

You sunk further into the chair, heat flooding to your cheeks as you glanced towards the booming voice coming from the doorway. The shadow of a man stood in its frame. As he stepped into the room, you noticed the features of his face were much kinder than his expression suggested. Short blonde hair, toned arms, and dressed in a black tie and white button-up shirt rolled to his elbows, decorated with pins and badges along the left of his chest and a police shield emblem on the sleeves.

“Captain Rogers,” Stark mumbled, shooting Barnes a glare. “What can we do for you?”

“It was getting loud in here,” the captain replied sternly, eyes glancing over to you cautiously before they returned to Barnes. “Is everything alright?”

You clenched your jaw, keeping your arms folded tight over your chest and everted your gaze.

Stark rolled his eyes, tapping his rather expensive looking shoe on the tile. “Look, Cap. This is our first lead on Hydra in months. Permission to treat the witness as hostile?”

“What? Permission denied!” Captain Rogers shook his head, aghast. “You’re not a lawyer, Stark. You’re a detective. Act like it!”

“She’s the daughter of a known Hydra affiant!”

“She’s not a threat, Stark,” Barnes retorted. He stepped out from his position leaning against the wall and into Stark’s direct path to you. His shoulders were so tense you could see the muscle through the thin layer of his shirt. “She’s just here to talk.”

“So you say!”

“Back down, Stark,” the captain warned.

Tony threw his arms in the arm. “Oh, so Barnes can flirt a little with the witness after hours and practically gets the case handed to him but I take this damn thing seriously and you’re punishing me?”

“What Detective Barnes does on his free time does not concern this precinct, Stark, you know that.”

“You’re only defending him because you two used to be partners before Commander Fury promoted you -- which was a serious conflict of interest by the way,” Stark argued.

“I’m still your captain, Stark. Watch it.”

“Am I the only one trying to bring down Hydra here!?” Stark started to pace the length of the room. He took a step to his left and you caught sight of yourself in the reflection of the two-way mirror.

Muffled shouted suggested Stark was still arguing with the captain, but you couldn’t hear much of what they were saying. Drifting out of focus to much of anything besides your reflection, your eyes caught on the red flakes in your hair, sunken skin below your eyes, and a far-off look about you that nearly made you cringe.

You tilted your face to the side, examining the splatter of blood along your cheek and started to rug at it vigorously. Neither Stark or Rogers seemed to notice, but Barnes had narrowed his eyes on you, watching carefully from the other side of the room. He was about to take a step forward towards you when Stark’s voice snapped you out of your trance.

“Have either of you actually read her father’s rap sheet? It’s a mile long and there’s no goddamn way she wasn’t involved!”

Red stained hands slammed sharply against the table, enough to leave a sting in your palms and you were on your feet before you could stop yourself, drawing the immediate attention of the three men in the room.

“I am not my father!”

You were panting, heavy breaths in your lungs as you stared down Stark. Admittedly, he was eyeing you with intrigue, like he was more impressed than suspicious of your claim. Legs crossed as he leaned against the two-way mirror, he started to grin.

“Oh, is this a bad time?” Detective Wilson peaked his head out from behind the captain’s large frame, carrying a cup of steaming coffee in his right hand.

“No, it’s not,” you groaned, waving for him to come in. “Thank you, Detective Wilson.”

He looked towards the captain before he entered, and with a subtle nod from the boss, Wilson quickly skidded into the room, half jogging but careful to keep his hand steady. The sincerity of it got you smiling again.

“Please, it’s Sam,” he smiled, winking at you as he set the coffee down on the table.

“That’s two people flirting with the witness now, Cap,” Tony pointed out, physically snapping and pointing in Sam’s direction. Though, this time, his tone was rather coy.

“Buck, I trust you to take her statement and ensure she gets home safely,” Captain Rogers ordered, nodding for Stark and Sam to exit the room. Sam sent you that flashy smile of his as Tony pushed himself away from the wall dramatically before they both were gone.

A heavy exhale from behind you as Barnes slowly paced around to the other side of the table. He took a seat, clearing his throat before he opened the pad of paper sitting to his left. Just the two of you alone in the room, you could feel yourself start to relax. It felt familiar with the barrier of the table between you, like a rusted metal version of your bar top.

Barnes was clicked the end of the pen, scribbling haphazardly against the paper, growing more and more frustrated when the ink refused to capture on the paper, only the imprint of the ballpoint pen left behind. He grunted and you couldn’t help but giggle under your breath, surprised he was able to turn your mood around so easily without even trying. He tossed the useless pen across the room and pulled a new one from his pocket.

“So, ‘Buck’, huh? Where’s that even come from?”

A smile tugged at his lips, though he kept his attention at the paper as he started to write his credentials at the top. “Middle name’s Buchanan. Friends call me Bucky.”

“Well that’s silly,” you shrugged, trying to suppress the grin on your face as he started to chuckle; the kind of sound that made you forget about the red stains on your skin and the horrors locked inside your mind, horrors he would ask you to relive in just a few minutes. You tried to push the thought away.

“Yeah, well, there were too many kids named James in my kindergarten class.”

You nodded. “Did you go to kindergarten in the 1920’s? You might know my grandfather, goes by Albert.”

He shook his head, a laugh actually escaping him a moment before he bit on his lip to hold it back in. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you?”

A silence took over and you tried to capture the ease you felt in this moment, knowing that it would be difficult to find it again once he started asking questions. Barnes set the pen down on the table, pausing before he looked up at you.

“I’m sorry about Stark, by the way,” he said slowly. “He’s not usually that... abrasive. He’s got a, uh, personal stake in this. We’ve been trying to dismantle Hydra for years and he really thought you’d have answers for him.”

A careful nod as you considered his words. “You seem pretty sure I don’t.”

“I know we talk a lot about your bar being filled with criminals, but the truth is most of them haven’t been incarcerated in years,” Barnes said, a sincerity in his voice you didn’t expect. “They’ve got mostly petty crimes, drug possessions, or misdemeanor assault charges, nothing that would stop them from being a productive member of society since they served their time, but enough that it puts a bad label on ‘em. They’ve got the kinda look that screams ‘bad news’ and an attitude that goes with it, and yet, for some reason they flock to you.”

You blinked a few times, slightly taken back.

He continued. “They respect you. Not because of who your dad is, either. They stop dead in their tracks when you start reprimanding them because they know they disappointed you. You take care of them. You treat them like real people and hold them to a standard they don’t find out on the streets. You tried to save the life of that man in the alley tonight. I saw that. I saw how hard you tried to bring him back and how hard you took it when you couldn’t. Someone like that ain’t got a thing to do with Hydra. I’d bet my badge on it.”

You paused, letting his words sink in. “That’s a heavy wager, Detective Barnes.”

A beat. A soft smile lifting his callused lips. Then, “I thought I already told you my friends call me Bucky.”

***

You spent the next three hours going over those seven minutes of your life in excruciating detail. Everything from when Charlie had tried to escort Matty out of the bar to you hiding in the alley behind the dumpster to when Bucky and Sam had arrived on scene. You had tried to tell him every detail you could possibly remember on the man with the gun, but it was too dark. You’d only seen his face for a second, it wasn’t enough time to do a sketch rendering. All you could tell him about was the tattoo on the man’s neck, but that was something most of Hydra had anyway. Bucky had hoped you’d be able to identify the face in a picture of known Hydra affiants, but that had come up empty.

Nothing you told him seemed to bring him any closer to a lead. It was nearing six in the morning when the frustration that had been building for hours started to snap.

“We’ve been at this all night!” you huffed, pushing out your chair as you started pacing the room. Bucky sat back, folding his arms as he watched you. You pushed away the hairs fallen into your eyes. “What- What good am I to Charlie if I can’t even remember what the asshole who killed him even looked like!”

“Come on, Y/n, this ain’t your fault and you know that,” Bucky reminded you sincerely. He had said it a few times so far this morning, though he didn’t once sound tired of saying it.

“I can’t-” You groaned, leaning against the table for support. “I can’t remember. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s alright,” Bucky reassured as he set down the pen and flipped back the seventeen pages he had scribbled in the notebook. Seventeen pages of material and you still felt useless. “Why don’t I get you home, okay? It’s been a long day. You can give us a call if you think of anything else, alright?”

You nodded, a yawn taking over before you could suppress it. “Sorry I kept you all night. Bet your wife’s a tough woman for putting up with this life.”

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah… no wife. This job doesn’t allow for steady relationships.”

“But it does allow for flirting with witnesses,” you accused through a teasing smirk.  

“Didn’t know you’d be my witness yet, Y/n,” Bucky retorted through a smile, gesturing towards the door. He opened it for you and followed you out into the hallway.

Damn those florescent lights.

“Detective Barnes!” A kid dressed in the official blue uniform scurried across the bull pen, skidding around Sam who shot him an irritable glare and nearly crashed into Stark who shouted at him to ‘watch it, Pete!’ He was small, leaner than most of the cops in here and had a boyish smile in his face, eager, like he was constantly searching for ways to prove himself.

Bucky sighed. “What is it, Parker?”

“Heard you had a late night and I’d like to offer to take Miss -- uh, sorry, I didn’t get your name?” he grimaced towards you with a blush in his cheeks.

“Y/L/n,” you replied, too keen to enjoy the kid’s fluster.

He cleared his voice, straightening his back. “I’d like to offer to escort Miss Y/L/n home.”

“That won’t be necessary, Parker, I’ve got it covered,” Bucky replied quickly, a little too quickly, as he started to lead you towards the door.

Parker jumped around to stand in Bucky’s way. When Bucky didn’t stop walking, Parker started moving backwards, pulling off his cap and twisting it nervously in his hands. You glanced between the kid and Bucky, a gleam of welcomed amusement you so desperately needed.

“Well, actually, sir, the thing is, --”

Bucky pulled to a stop and you along with him. “Spit it out, kid.”

“Captain Rogers kinda said that your overtime is killing the budget and you need to go home.”

“Great,” Bucky grunted. “I’ll go home after Y/n does.”

“Actually--”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake!” Bucky threw his arms in the air, glaring over at the office across the bull pen. Behind the semi-open shades stood Captain Rogers, nursing a cup of coffee, as he eyed them from over the mug. Bucky let out an exasperated groan. “Fine! Okay, Rogers?” he shouted towards the office and the captain lifted his mug in acknowledgement. “Fine!”

Bucky sighed, turning to you. “You okay if this child takes you home? I can grab Wilson or maybe Nat if she’s around...”

You shook your head, smiling as you watched Parker celebrate as Bucky’s back was turned. He seemed like a sweet kid. You needed more of that in your life, especially after the night you had.

“I’m fine,” you reassured Bucky, noticing the frustration in his heavy breaths and tensed shoulders. “I bet he’s stronger than he looks. Could probably stop a train with his bare hands, huh?”

Parker nodded vigorously. Bucky rolled his eyes. He turned to the kid, grabbing a hold of his uniform collar.

“Take this seriously,” he warned, leaning in close enough the Parker stretched his neck away. “We’re keeping Y/n’s involvement between just a few of us here in the precinct. The media’s in the dark about this for now and we have to keep it that way. Hydra doesn't know there was a witness and I don’t want that changing, you hear me?”

“Yes, sir,” Parker replied firmly. The second Bucky pulled back, the kid’s smile widened enough to take up his whole face. “I’m Peter. You can come with me, Miss Y/L/n.”

“You can call me Y/n, you know?”

“Don’t bother,” Bucky rolled his eyes, though you could sense the amusement under it. “He’s got an authority complex. Can’t be informal if he tried.”

“Oh, I see,”

“You coming, Miss Y/l/n?” he called from the end of the precinct. How did he get that far so fast?

You nodded, turning quickly to Bucky. “Well, thanks. I guess I’ll see you around?”

“’Course, can’t forget about my key witness,” he grinned.

You smiled, quick to push aside the fluttering in your chest. You had started to walk away when you heard Bucky curse behind you, as if a realization clicked. He jogged back up to you, grabbing you gently by the elbow to pull you to a stop.

“You're not going back to the bar tonight, right?” he asked, concern in his eyes as he studied you.

You shrugged, pulling away from his grasp softly before you started walking again towards Peter. You hadn’t even considered not opening. “I gotta pay the bills, Bucky.”

“W-wait, hold on now--”

“I have to keep my electricity running and I’ll have customers wondering why I’m not opening,” you insisted. “You want to keep this quiet? I gotta show up. They’ll know something’s amiss if I don’t.”

“Let me assign protective detail at least,” Bucky countered, now walking backwards as you crossed half the length of the station to where Peter was waiting.

“Not necessary.”

“Y/n, you’re a witness to a hydra hit--”

“--which they know nothing about,” you finished, forcing out a tight smile. “You said that yourself. Can’t be in danger if they don’t know anyone even saw it happen.” You paused, only a few feet away from the young officer waiting eagerly by the door. “I’ll be fine. Plus, I have that business card of yours tucked away somewhere. I’ll call if I need to.”

Bucky released a heavy exhale, hands planted on his hips as he reluctantly watched you make your way out the door.

“You better.”

***

Officer Parker – or Peter as he insisted relentlessly you call him – had been the welcomed distraction you needed. He looked young for his age, like maybe he belonged in high school, but he swore he was fresh out the of academy and even showed you his badge to prove it. The kid didn’t stop talking for even a second as he drove you home, not even when he asked you questions. He’d paused, give you about two seconds to respond, before he was answering his own damn question and off on a new tangent. He was a sweet kid, one you didn’t mind having around one bit.

He had come up to your apartment, cautiously inspecting the locks and hinges, eyeing up and down the hallway for cameras that didn’t belong – said it was on Detective Barnes’ orders. You had smiled at that.

After Peter left, you had forced yourself to sleep, too exhausted to do much of anything else. When the sound of a car alarm woke you a few hours later, you tried to make busy around the apartment. You cleaned the kitchen, swept the floors, washed down the bathroom and did two loads of laundry and it was only two in the afternoon.  

Unable to sit still in your dingy apartment any longer, you made your way down the street to your bar. You hadn’t been able to finish cleaning up shop the previous night for obvious reasons and you wanted to make sure nothing looking amiss by the time opening came around.

Barnes held true to his word that the media was in the dark about it – the shooting, Charlie’s murder, you as a witness, all of it – which meant that you’d find your regulars waltzing in like they usually do. The newspapers hadn’t gotten word of it at least, and you were sure to check a few of them yourself as you walked by the corner store.

Had to keep up appearances, pay the bills. It was what you were telling yourself anyway. Routine was essential to your survival. Sitting alone in that apartment all day and let your mind wander felt like a worse sentence than Hydra discovering you.

Hands tucked tightly in the pockets of your jacket, you slowed your pace down as you passed the alley next to the bar. You came to a stop and a man behind you had to skid out of your way at the last second, cursing and grumbling under his breath as he continued walking.

There was no crime scene tape up, no evidence markers or silly white chalk drawn in the pavement. No proof at all that anything had happened in this alley – that a man had died in this alley. There wasn’t even blood stained into the gravel. The rain had taken care of that.

Carefully, you made your way down the dark alley, glancing up at the light above the backdoor to the bar to discover it was now fully operational. You sighed and bent down to pick up the broom you had dropped the previous night. Unlocking the door, you stepped inside.

It was just as you left it. Not that it should be a surprise, but it felt like something should be different. You were different, you supposed.

You spent the next few hours tediously cleaning the floors, the bathrooms, restocking the shelves, and washing through the glasses twice. Couldn’t stand still for even a moment, you had even starting wiping down the walls when the bell rang out and the first two patrons strolled in.

“Smells like Lysol in here, Y/n,” the bigger of the two men, a guy called Vinny, grumbled as he pinched his nose. His twin brother Leonard swatted his shoulder, urging him to be nice. Vinny made a look of disgust before he gestured for his usual. You swung yourself around the bar, thankful to have some company as you held a glass under the tap. “I liked it better when this place smelled like stale beer.”

“Thanks, Vinny,” you chuckled, rolling your eyes. Leonard apologized for his brother before leading him back to their usual spot. Odd pair, those two.

It didn’t take long for the rest of the crowd to gather. You didn’t have much of a free moment to think, and that was exactly what you were hoping for. Bustling around from one end of the bar to the other, grabbing empty glasses and refilling drinks. The clientele usually kept their orders simple – beer, hard liquor, occasionally thrown in with some coke. Every once in a while, you’d find a brave soul who’d ask for something frozen or colorful, topped with one of those little umbrellas you’d bought a pack of when you first reopened the bar years back and had used five since. They’d get shit for it, but the ones with the thickest skin would come back for more.

It was nearing nine when the bell rang. Most of your customers came in around six and didn’t leave until two in the morning at close. The stragglers in between were ones you didn’t usually recognize but not this one.

Bucky Barnes sauntered in, hands in his pockets and a shake of his head when he saw you standing behind the bar. “I thought I told you this was a bad idea.”

“And I thought I made it pretty clear I wasn’t gonna listen,” you said simply, handing Bernie his third glass of beer. You wiped your hands on your towel before reaching for Bucky’s usual choice. You set a short glass in front of him as he sat and began filling it. It was a heavy pour. He noticed.

“Which is why I assigned protective detail,” Bucky said he picked up the glass and took a sip. He was getting better about not wincing as it went down.

“I said no, Barnes! I can’t have cops running around this place, it’ll scare off my customers!”

“Relax, doll,” Bucky chuckled and you felt your heart skip at the nickname, “It’s just me. I’m the detail.”

You narrowed your eyes, swallowing back the butterflies in your stomach. “I thought Captain Rogers said you were working too much overtime.”

“What Steve doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Bucky shrugged. “Besides, the one-four ain’t got a say in what I do in my free time.”

You paused. “You’re off duty?”

“You think I’d be drinking if I wasn’t?”

“I’m just,” you ran your fingers through your hair in an attempt to hide the red forming in your cheeks, “surprised, I guess. Don’t know why you’d use your own time just to look out for me.”

“Who says that’s what I’m here for?” Bucky smirked. “Maybe I like my bourbon really shitty. Maybe I was getting used to being a bit of a regular in this joint and I’m stuck in my ways. It’s too late for me now.”

“Yeah maybe,” you laughed, folding your arms as you leaned against the bar.

Bucky took a sip from the glass, keeping your stare as he swirled the last remaining sip in the glass before he threw back that one, too. He paused. A shrug.

“Maybe I just like the bartender.”

“Don’t let Stark hear you say that,” you retorted quickly, pushing yourself off the bar and brushing away any sincerity you heard in his words as his typical banter. You reached for a clean glass as you saw Leonard coming up for the second round. “You’ll get in trouble for flirting with the witness again.”

Bucky nodded, smiling to himself as he watched you pull the handle for the tap. You were talking with Leonard, laughing softly as he pointed back to his brother across the room who was clearly whistling along to the Dolly Parton song that he had thrown on the jukebox.

You didn’t notice Bucky’s eyes on you. Under his breath, too quiet for you to hear, “I’ll take my chances.”

part 3

tags 🌻 @sweetheartbarnes / @musiclover1263 / @pies-wands-and-more / @buckygrantbarnes / @mywinterwolf / @lumar014 / @alohafromhell1 / @bucksandroses / @teardropcup / @beautiful-aravis / @me-chi / @somewereinthegalaxi / @marvelfansworld / @whyamidoingthistomyselfhelp / @deanwinchesterswitch / @yourwonderbelle / @fairislesheets / @brokeinflight

(strikethrough means tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you!)

[tyrannosaurusrexdale]

TIMUR AND HIS FRIENDS

Every time I walk past my old apartment on Wallace Avenue I think about my former neighbours, who lived above me on the upper floor of a split level home. When I moved in, the apartment upstairs was home to three Russian guys, living in what I assume to have been a two bedroom apartment. I rarely saw them or heard from them. They would usually wake up extremely early in the morning, before six, return in the evening, and quickly go to sleep. Occasionally I'd detect the odor of garlic emanating from the apartment, or they’d leave empty bottles of Slivovitz by the recycling bin. I rarely thought about them. After a few months, Timur moved in, and after that, life was very different.

Timur was from Kazakhstan, which he told me upon our first meeting, and later I confirmed by the enormous Kazakh flag that he hung in the front window. I came to understand it to be an act of provocation. It became apparent quickly that Timur and the his Russian roommates were not on good terms. He would play Kazakh folk music loudly throughout the day, and often into the night. Shouting matches would happen regularly, which was shocking, as previously the Russians seemed too exhausted to make a commotion. I began to intermittently hear glass breaking, the circumstances of which I didn’t want to think about. One night, at approximately one in the morning, one of the Russians moved out dramatically (the youngest one, who looked like Pavel Bure), packing all his belongings into two duffel bags and throwing them into the back of a cab while launching a burst of what I assume to be obscenities back at the house before the cab sped away. Around this time I felt compelled to purchase a pair of expensive noise cancelling headphones, though when the shouting upstairs started, I rarely put them on.

One night, in the dead of winter, I was finishing a gin & tonic while preparing for a date with a former coworker. Stephanie and I had previously worked together in the same store for roughly a year before she left for a job with the government, and after nearly four months of messaging back and forth, she’d agreed to meet me for drinks. As I tied the laces of my boots and prepared to leave for the short walk for the bus stop, I heard a loud crash outside of my window. I threw my coat on and went outside to find Timur, wearing a t-shirt and ancient Soviet-era athletic shorts, shivering on the concrete next to the overturned garbage cans. He had a large scratch on his arm and both his bare feet looked to be injured, swelling up quickly despite the cold. I asked him what had happened, and after nearly a full minute of groaning and cursing in his native Kazakh, he responded. “Sergei, that dog” he said between pants, “he locked me out of house and I try to climb back in.” The narrow ledge outside his window above him was at least twelve feet high, and it appeared he’d fallen from that height. I asked what he wanted me to do, if he needed me to call and ambulance, but deflected the question. His pace of breathing quickened and he seemed on the verge of hyperventilating.

I decided to run upstairs and see if anyone was home. I banged on the door, to no response, before running back down to check on Timur. I darted into my apartment and grabbed a blanket I could use to cover him. When I emerged outside, Timur had been joined by two passersby, a woman who was already speaking at an incredibly high volume, and an older man, who from what I could tell, seemed to be calling for the assistance of the Lord. "Have you called an ambulance?" the woman shrieked at me. "He needs to be in the emergency room, right now!" I had refrained from calling an ambulance, out of concenrs over the price, and potentially Timur's immigration status. I asked Timur if he wanted me to call an ambulance, and he said he did not. The woman did not seem satisfied by this. "His blood is on your hands!" she shouted into my ear. The gentleman had produced a small bible from his backpack and appeared to be scanning through it. The situation appeared to be deteriorating.

I climbed the stairs for a second time and attempted to find one of Timur's roommates, thinking that even if they loathed him, they could at least help translate. I banged on the door, and once again receiving no response, decided to open it. Broom, cleaning supplies, snow shovel, vacuum, I'd been banging on the door of a supply closet. I felt exceptionally foolish. I could have been vacuuming my apartment this whole time? Now that was upsetting. I realized that the door to Timur's apartment was further down the hall. I cursed myself for not venturing upstairs before. But why would I ever have the need to hang out up here? That didn't make a ton of sense either. I walked down the hall to see that the door was open. I went inside to see a large Russian gentleman, sitting at a desktop computer wearing headphones, playing a military video game I've never seen before. It was unclear who was more shocked to see the other. "Hey, do you live with Timur," I said. He grunted affirmatively. "I think he's hurt outside, can you come help?" We stared at each other blankly before I began to leave, hoping he would follow. As I descended the stairs I glanced at my phone to see a message from Stephanie that said simply "???". I'd never received one like that before but it seemed ominous.

The woman waited for me as I walked down the stairs, her glare increasing with every step. "Don't worry, an ambulance has been called," she spat at me, contemptuously. "Someone is taking charge of the situation." Timur groaned upon hearing this, though I suspect it was the right thing to do. His ankles had swollen even further, the right in in particular beginning to resemble a large kaiser roll coated in blueberry jam. I leaned in to Timur. "They'll take care of you buddy, you'll be okay." I saw the worry on his face as he continued to whimper. I could tell from his reaction that his health coverage in this country was minimal. His roommate emerged from the building and handed him a hooded sweatshirt and a pair of sneakers before asking, I assume, if he was okay. Timur responded coldly in the affirmative, and the roommate stood over him for a few seconds before heading back inside. The older gentleman with the bible had moved to the other side of the street and was observing the situation from a safe distance. I glanced at my phone again. No further messages.

The ambulance came not long after that, and the paramedics began to move Timur to a gurney. They addressed most of their questions to me, though I had few answers, to their disappointment. The woman continued to glare in my direction while muttering under her breath that I was "disgraceful", and that I'd failed Timur in his hour of need. "His blood is on *your* hands!" she bellowed from a distance. The older gentleman had returned to the scene, and was investigating the cab of the ambulance with great fascination. The roommate emerged one last time to drop Timur's wallet into his lap before returning upstairs and turning off every lamp in their apartment. The ambulance turned on its lights and drove away. The woman had left without me noticing, though the older gentleman continued to read his bible on the sidewalk with a look of deep concentration on his face. I glanced at my watch. Only 35 minutes late. I almost began to run to the bus stop before remembering to grab a coat and lock my door, which had remained wide open this whole time.

I boarded a bus after a short wait. I quickly sent a message to Stephanie. "You're not gonna believe what just happened to me" I sent, adding "I'm so sorry : (" a minute later. No response to either. I got off the bus and nearly sprinted to my destination. 9:06. No sign of Stephanie in the bar. I sat down at a stool and ordered a beer. "Hey man," I asked the bartender, "Did you see a brunette in here by herself a little while ago?" The bartender eyed me down. "She was sitting right where you are bro" he responded contemptuously, as he placed a pint down on the counter. "She's gone." I gave him a ten dollar bill as my shoulders sank and I checked my phone in vain. I ended up getting pretty drunk that night before grabbing a falafel and trudging home.

I saw Timur again a week later, sitting on the stoop in front of the building with his leg in a cast. I inquired how his leg was though it was unclear if he recognized me. I refrained from pressing the issue any further and I went inside my apartment. Two weeks later, on a Saturday night, Stephanie sent me a message asking what I was doing at the moment, and that she'd love to see me. I responded quickly but my phone died not long after that, and I was unable to find a charger. By the time I got home that night, the message was gone, and it appeared that Stephanie had erased any existence of our virtual friendship. I never saw Timur again, and one day a few months later, the blue and gold Kazakh flag was gone. A year later I moved out, and not long after that, the house was sold, and renovated extensively back into a single family home. I take a look for the Kazakh flag whenever I walk past and the only thing I see are children's toys and chalk drawings, and a miserable, mousy-looking father working fruitlessly on a tiny, barren planter. Although once, cycling past late at night, I did see a lone bottle of Slivovitz in the recycling bin, which made me smile.

[blueeyedheizer]

Bad Blood - Matt x reader

REQUEST: Hiya. For a Matt request I was thinking of a Romeo Juliet situation where you guys are in love but have to sneak around because there is bad blood between your families

WARNING: I chose dean's last name for matt. bad writing. this is just really bad.

A/N: This is pure trash and it's really short, I'm so sorry. :( Writers block is absolutely kicking my ass, I cant seem to write anything good. The last time this happened I stopped writing for a year and half....yikes. I could literally cry rn. Also this whole quarantine situation isn't helping. Anyway, your request deserved better i'm sorry

---

''What were you thinking, Y/N ?!'' your mother shouted at you, making you roll your eyes. She started pacing around and scoffed loudly before turning to face you. ''him, out of all people ?!''

''You don't even know him, mom.'' you answered calmly, closing your eyes to stop the tears from settling in your eyes.

Despite your families' hatred for each other, you and Matt had always been close. From lying to your parents about going to the cinema with a friend to sneaking out late at night, you always found a way to make your friendship work without your families knowing about it. But when things became more serious between the two of you, it all became a lot more complicated. You often felt the need to protest when your dad said harsh things about him or his family, but you always ended up deciding against it, until today. You wanted your parents to give him a chance, to see that he wasn't half as bad as they made it look like, but you quickly realized that was certainly not something they were ready to hear.

''I don't know him'' she mocked your words, scoffing again. ''I don't want you to get involved with anyone from his family. You're going to break up with him, and we're going to forget about this. Do you hear me, Y/N?'' she pointed a finger at you threateningly as she took a step forward, and you shook your head feeling the tears well in your eyes.

''No. I'm not going to let this dumb family feud, that shouldn't even involve me an Matt get in the way of our relationship.'' you defended yourself, voice shaking but still filled with anger. ''I love him, mom. He's caring, he treats me well, he doesn't cheat. This is all you've ever wanted for me, why can't you be happy?!''

''Because I wasn't expecting my daughter to date a fucking Chapman!'' she suddenly yelled, making you flinch. ''Out of all boys, out of all families, you really had to get involved with them, huh? And how are you going to explain this to your father?!''

''You know what? Just forget it. This is bullshit, I don't even know why I expected you to understand.'' you finally spat before running past her, ignoring her calls and making your way towards your room as tears started falling down your cheeks.

You locked your door shut before collapsing on your bed, letting yourself cry. A hiccup escaped your throat and you rolled onto your side, burying your face in your pillow. You weren't sobbing, but the tears were rolling down your cheeks freely. 'Everytime something good happens to me, this damn family has to ruin it', you thought, curling yourself up into a ball.

After you finally calmed down, you got up and grabbed the phone, dialing Matt's number. You bit your lips when the phone rang and inhaled a deep, shaky breath when he finally picked up.

''Y/N?''

''Hey, are you...um, can you come over ?'' you asked. ''I, uh- I told my mom about us.'' you blurted out quickly, wiping a tear off your cheek.

''What ?''

''I know, I- I thought she would understand and it would'nt be such a big deal since she-''

''Hey, hey, love, shh calm down. It's okay, don't cry. Leave your window open, I'll be right over.''

---

Matt's hands are playing with your hair and loosely running along your arm as his back rests against the headboard of your bed. Your eyes are closed as you lean onto his chest, trying to forget about everything that happened earlier, the warmth of his body and the gentle thump of his heart agaist your back being enough to calm you down.

''We’ll figure it out.'' Matt broke the silence and you nodded, finally opening your eyes as he pressed a kiss on the top of your head. ''Who knows, maybe they'll all come together once we get married.'' he smiled and you let out a half-hearted chuckle, leaning your head back to look up at him.

''This is all so unfair.'' you sighed as a tear slipped out of the corner of your eye. Matt wiped it away with his thumb and let his eyes roam over your face, taking in every detail in the dim light. ''I don't want them to force us apart.'' you continued as your tears started flooding down your cheeks again. Matt reached to hold your hand and intertwined your fingers together before leaning in, pulling you into a soft kiss while his thumb stroked your cheek soothingly.

''This is not going to happen, Y/N. I promise.'' he murmured against your ear and pat his lap, inviting you to straddle him. You climbed on top of him and he brushed a strand of hair out of your face before sliding his hand to the back of your head, pulling you in for a kiss. When you didn't kiss back, he pulled away and gently cupped your chin between his thumb and index finger, lifting your head up. ''Hey...look at me.'' his voice was gentle and caring as his eyes searched for yours. Your tears had stopped falling, but your eyes were still red and puffy. ''I love you, Y/N. No one's going to force us apart.'' he continued, and you nodded with a small smile. ''You're not getting rid of me so easily.'' he smirked as he kissed your jawline softly, his hands finding their way to your waist. You chuckled at his words and bit your bottom lip as he started kissing down your neck slowly. You tilted your head back, your eyes falling shut as a soft sigh of pleasure left your lips.

He detached his lips from your neck after a moment, only for you to capture them with your own again. You wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your hands in his hair as he pulled you closer, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Your lips moved slowly against his, and a soft giggle escaped from your lips as he pushed you back on the bed, climbing on top of you.

"Matt..." you muttered against his lips, pressing a hand on his chest to push him away slightly. Your lips curled up into a smile and you rolled your eyes playfully when his lips met your neck once again. "Matt, seriously... my mom's downstairs."

He muttered an incoherent complain and you sighed when his lips found your sensitive spot.

''Alright, I don't think I'll be able to be quiet if you keep going.'' you smirked as a small laugh escaped his lips, and he finally detached his lips from your neck to look at you.

''I love you so fucking much, do you know that?'' he exclaimed, cupping your face and pulling you in for another kiss, this one longer and more heated than the previous one, breaking the kiss only enough to take his shirt off.

[furtherintofairytales]

If Loving You Is Sinful - Chapter 1

Daniel X Grace | A Ready or Not Fanfic

A/N: This is my very first fan fiction ever, and I’m a little scared to share it. But, why not? I might consider making this into a multi-chapter story if people like it. **Update: I will also take requests!

Summary: Daniel has succeeded in helping Grace escape her tragic wedding night. But the threat of the Le Domas family isn’t over, as dawn came without any deaths. Now, the family business has taken a turn, with its objective being only one thing: hunt Grace and Daniel to the ends of the world, and when found, kill them.

Word Count: 1622

Warnings: Language and Violence

Disclaimer: I don’t own any rights over Ready or Not, or its characters. I just really love the concept, and its relationships. 

The air rushed out of Grace’s lungs as she was pulled off the sacrificial table, and thrown out the door of the Le Domas game room. Daniel staggered out behind her, ushering her into the hallway as fast as he could, while leaving the rest of his family to choke on their tainted ceremonial wine.  

“Did you poison them?” Grace called behind her, never slowing her pace.

“No, it was only a laxative,” Daniel breathed, trying to smirk. “They’ll just get the shits in the morning is all.”

Grace wanted to laugh, she wanted to feel light, like the weight of this terrible night wasn’t crashing down on her chest, making her breath more rigid as she ran. How many times had she been almost killed tonight? And yet, the Le Domas’ had come very close to succeeding only moments before, with a knife held over her chest, and chants for Satan clinging in the air. Maybe she could laugh after all.

But the only sounds that could be heard in the hallway were that of the Le Domas’ gaining back their control on the situation. Grace felt herself being pulled under the staircase in the foyer, her back flush against Daniel’s solid chest. Whether she liked being this close to Alex’s older brother or not, she couldn’t decide. She could feel Daniel’s breath on her neck. His eyes never left the space of light in front of them, where at any moment, a member of the hunting party could stumble upon them.

The thought had Daniel clenching his teeth in frustration. How was it fair that the only moment he had alone with the woman next to him, was when they were both so close to the threshold of death?

As the footsteps grew closer, Grace felt herself gripping Daniel’s arm in desperation. She wanted to look at him, to feel comfort in his eyes, but she was worried that her own fear would be mirrored in their depths.

Once the footsteps had receded throughout the house in search of the duo, Grace let out a sigh of relief. Short-lived, the relief was, as she was once again hauled to her feet by the man beside her. Together they ran towards the door, heads looking over their shoulders for any signs of renegade seekers.

Positioning Grace between himself and the door, he went to work on the handle, trying to jiggle it open. He thought for sure that when the security system had gone down at the hands of his brother, the lockdown would have ended. Beating the lock with his hands, he realized he was mistaken.

“Grace,” looking at the bloody and bruised woman before him, Daniel felt a pang of guilt rise in his chest for the part he had played in this game. “I promise I’ll get you out. Alex too.”

She didn’t react at the mention of her husband’s name, instead choosing to look the younger brother in his eyes. “I knew you’d help me.”

“I didn’t”

“Nor did I.” A voice hissed from behind them.

Whipping around to face his wife, Daniel drew back slightly so that Grace was drawn between himself and the door. He placed himself protectively in front of the girl, shielding her from the gun pointed directly at his face.

“Charity, you don’t want to do this.” Putting his hands up in defence, he stepped forward just an inch.

A humorless chuckle escaped his wife’s lips. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing? You’re going to kill us all!”

There was a chance, Daniel thought, that he was becoming the catalyst of his family’s death, and in turn, the catalyst of his own. But looking over his shoulder, at the woman who stood behind him, her teeth chattering in fear, hands clasped tightly on the back of his dress shirt, he knew she deserved to live. Everything about her was light. Even when diminished by his family’s violence, she shined brighter than anything he had ever touched, and he wanted his family to die for all they had done to her. Even if he had to die with them.

Charity watched her husband’s gesture. She saw the worry forming on his brow, directed towards a girl who was her opposite. In his eyes, both damataion and reassurance danced together among the darkening brown.

She didn’t know if it was anger or hurt that caused the bile to rise up in her throat, making her want to vomit. She didn’t care. Forcing it down, she held the gun level with her husband’s head, only shaking once.

“You really don’t care if I live or die.”

The bang of the gunshot caused both Grace and Charity to gasp. Flying towards Daniel, the bullet had just barely missed grazing his neck. Yet, the impact still sent him backwards into the already injured girl behind him.

There they laid for a second, shocked by the events that had just played out before them. But all too quickly, the shouts of the Le Domas’ could be heard, signalling that they had found their location.

It was Grace who took charge this time, pulling a panting Daniel up to his feet, past a disbelieving Charity, towards the hallway that they had emerged from to begin with.

The shouts got louder as they ran. Shots were fired into the empty hallways, as a means to scare the couple, but not once did they stop, plunging into the dark and maze-like hallways. Grace let Daniel take the lead, hoping that his knowledge of the estate would lead them to safety. Tripping once over her ripped wedding dress, she came face to face with a door she was very familiar with.

“The kitchen door,” she whispered.

Daniel had other plans, however, hoisting Grace up by her waist. He led them deeper into the dark hallways, stopping only when he came to a solid white door. He drew his shoulder back, charging into it. It took a moment to budge, opening only with brute force. Descending the stairs, the couple could now make out the voices of each individual family member, who began to descend into the darkness with them.

“What is this place,” Grace’s voice shook.

“The garage.” Daniel backed her up into the passenger side of his Mercedes, opening the door with a gesture for her to get inside.

“Are you kidding me? They’ll report this car stolen too. And they’ll shut off the engine again. And that fucking kid on the other end.”

“It’s my car, now shut up and get in.” Once Grace was situated, Daniel ran around the front of the car, locking himself into the driver’s seat.

“It’s not your car if your parents pay for it,” Grace muttered.

Looking at her in disbelief, Daniel countered. “I pay for it.”

“You don’t have a job!”

His family had already descended upon the car, choosing to stand around it with their guns drawn. His father stood in the middle, eyes focused solely on his cherished sacrifice. Yet, when he spoke, his words were directed at his son.

“Come on, Daniel,” he called. “Enough with this rebellious shit. Get out of the car and hand her over, or we’ll kill you too.”

But Daniel wasn’t listening to his father’s words, instead his eyes stayed focused on Grace. The engine revved to life as he pushed his foot down on the gas, drawing back his hand to put the car in drive. Having already tried the garage button on the roof of the car’s interior, Grace had no idea what Daniel was about to do.

“Do you trust me?”

Emilie and Fitch were trying and failing at getting the car doors open, resulting in both of them using their fists against the vehicle. Grace nodded, having to laugh at someone else having trouble unlocking a fucking door.

Daniel finally set the car in drive. Pushing forward, he rammed the car into the garage door, barely believing the way the door crumbled in on itself, and gave way for the car to crash through it and drive down the long driveway and onto the road.

---

The Le Domas watched in disbelief, as the sun reflected off of Daniel’s car as it sped away, signalling that dawn had finally come.

“What? It’s dawn and we’re not dead,” Emile sniffed.

“Oh, Fuck!” Tony Le Domas hissed, throwing his rifle on the paved garage floor.

“So… all of this was for nothing?” Fitch asked, cautiously. “We didn’t need to kill her! It’s a good thing we didn’t kill her, right?”

It seemed that looking around in the light, no one shared the same enthusiasm as Fitch. In fact, the whole of the Le Domas family still looked grave, and blood-thirsty. Like this hadn’t been a game at all. Deciding to shut his mouth, Fitch fell back into the background, stepping slightly behind his wife.

“There is no way,” Tony started. “No way, that we can let that girl live with knowledge of what has happened here tonight. She may not be a sacrifice, a means to protect this family against the ill will of those we have sold ourselves too. But she is a threat. An enemy to this house-hold. She will destroy this family in another way, with the death of its reputation.”

“As of this moment, our only business is clear,” a voice spoke softly, coming out of the shadows of the lightened garage. “We hunt my wife, and my brother to the ends of this world.” Alex Le Domas moved to stand next to his father, his head held high as he looked over the faces of his family. In the distance, the police were already on their way.

[unfortunate-stranger-losers]

All Those Things They Couldn’t Say - A Runaway Baudelaires AU

{ao3} {tumblr} {masterlist}

Chapter Thirty-Eight - Bertrand does his Best

As the Volunteers cheerfully sang, the children sat on the floor of the van, chatting amongst themselves. 

“What does it feel like?” Isadora asked, as she hugged Duncan close to her. 

Duncan bit his lip, feeling a bit smothered. “It started out really hot, and then it felt really cold. And like… I think the most pain was right after the knife came out. Now my shoulder just feels really sore.” 

“Hopefully we can help with that.” Klaus said. “Our plan is to sign you in under a pseudonym, to get you treatment from someone who’s not a thirteen-year-old boy.” 

“But you did a good job.” Duncan said. 

Violet blinked. “Klaus, you’re twelve.” 

“I’ve got, what, three days?” Klaus shrugged. “Then I’m an adult.” 

“No, then you’re a teenager.” Violet sighed. “We were planning such cool shit for your little- what did Father call it? ‘Private family bar mitzvah.’” 

Klaus smiled. “Well, don’t tell me, maybe we’ll have Olaf dead in time for you to pull that off.” 

“Not likely.” Violet said. “There were a lot of balloons.” 

“I don’t know if I like the idea of me getting signed in alone.” Duncan interrupted. “We said we weren’t gonna split up.” 

“We’ll follow you to your room,” Violet said, “When the doctors leave you alone, Isadora will stay with you to make sure nothing happens, and the rest of us will duck down the Library of Records. Just check it out real quick, find out where that Baudelaire File is.” 

“Again, splitting up.” 

“But with the knowledge of where the other’s supposed to be at all times.” Klaus said. “Besides, Olaf is far behind us.” 

The Volunteers got out of the van, cheering and singing, and the kids stayed to the back of the group, glancing at the hospital, only half of which was completed. 

“Well that makes me feel good.” Isadora muttered. 

“I’m sure they’ll finish it someday,” they heard the head of the volunteers say joyfully, “But in the meantime, we can picture the other half, and picturing something makes it so!” 

“Okay,” Klaus whispered, as they all edged toward the hospital doors, “So we’re in, what, a new age cult?” 

“I’m gonna guess antivaxxer.” Violet shrugged. 

The volunteers headed inside and started down a hall, while Violet simply directed them towards a receptionist desk. The woman there glanced up. “Hello?” 

“Hello. Our brother has been stabbed and we’d like to check him in for treatment.” Violet said, making her voice sound lower than usual. “We gave him a bit of medication ourselves but there’s only so much we children can do.” 

The receptionist sighed, and stood up. “We’ve got an open room in the Stab Ward, you’re lucky. Come along, and one of our doctors will be there shortly.” 

Violet nodded, and quickly grabbed Klaus’s hand, as Klaus picked up Sunny. “Alright.” 

Beatrice leaned against her husband and tried to adjust her eyes to the darkness. 

She’d woken up just as they were being chained to the wall, but didn’t dare try to fight, knowing they’d just hurt Bertrand, they’d hurt Quigley, they’d torture them anyway. She could hear Olaf’s bragging, but only processed enough to know they were doomed- blah blah soundproof basement, blah blah left the firetruck right where those fucking singers pick up gas blah blah don’t worry about leaving them together, they should know better than to try anything by now. 

They did. 

When Bertrand awoke, Beatrice didn’t say anything, she just leaned up against him, and he put an arm around her. They could actually reach each other here, and Beatrice wondered for a while if that was due to a lack of space, but once she managed to get used to the darkness, she realized that, no, they were in a huge room. There were a few scattered shelves, a few cardboard boxes, and then several poles supporting the ceiling, on two of which the Baudelaires were chained. 

Bertrand muttered some observations every now and again. They were probably in a cellar. He could see bottles in that box, they could be in a hospital. It didn’t matter to Beatrice at the moment. Nothing did, so she just let the numbness surround her, let herself lean on her husband for however little time they’d let her have him. He ran his hands through her hair a bit, detangling and brushing as best he could, and Beatrice played with the edge of his jacket, letting the thick fabric roll between her fingers. 

After what felt like forever, Bertrand squeezed her shoulder, and leaned his head against hers, and then said, “Beatrice, we have to keep going.” 

She shook her head. “There’s no point.” 

“Our kids are still out there, and they need us.” 

“He’ll just catch them and kill them like he caught us again, and he took Quigley away. I don’t even know where he is right now.” 

“Beatrice…” Bertrand shut his eyes. “I miss Lemony, too.” 

She fell silent. 

“But we have to go on.” 

She remained silent. 

“Do you remember, when we were sixteen-” 

“Please don’t.” 

“What?” 

“Please. Don’t.” Beatrice buried her head into her husband’s shoulder, muffling her voice slightly. “Don’t. Don’t make me remember.” 

“Bea.” 

“We don’t have a future, Bertrand, and we’ve lost our past. So now we just wait to die and see him again.” 

“Absolutely not. Bea, absolutely not.” Bertrand pulled away from her, and she flinched, feeling too cold and too lonely until he grabbed her shoulders, trying to get her to look him in the face. “We’re not dying here. We’re not letting him win.” 

“He already has.” 

“Bea, Lemony’s gone,” his voice broke, and he stared at the ground, trying not to cry. “He’s gone but we can keep going. We’ve known he was gone-” 

“It’s different now.” 

“I know it is, Bea. I know we- we know for a fact he’s never coming back to us. But you know what? If we had died, he would’ve pressed on for us. Especially if our kids needed him.” 

“We don’t know that.” 

“And we never will. But we know that we still have him.” Bertrand pressed a hand to her cheek. “We still have our kids.” 

Beatrice shut her eyes, and then whispered, “How are we supposed to face them? So much has happened-” 

“We just need to get them safe. That’s all we can do.” 

“Nowhere is safe.” Beatrice’s voice finally betrayed emotion, finally betrayed her distraught trembling, as her words shook and she blinked tears down her cheeks. “The world’s treachery washes up on every shore. We can’t keep them safe, and we can’t even get out of here, so we might as well just accept it.” 

“Bea, please, don’t lose hope.” 

“We don’t have the luxury of hope!” Beatrice shouted, and then she couldn’t stop the tears, and she kept shaking and almost falling over, only held upright by her husband. “We don’t have anything!” 

“Beatrice, hope’s not a luxury, it’s the only thing you can have when everything else is gone.” 

“Don’t!” Beatrice sobbed. “Don’t sound like him!” 

Bertrand hugged her, and she just trembled and felt her cheeks burn as her body wracked with sobs and all she could do was let her husband hold her. He stopped speaking, stopped telling her it would be okay, but he pressed his face against hers and stroked her arms and just let her feel him there. 

It felt like an hour before her tears ran out, and she just rocked back and forth, Bertrand still refusing to let her go. He was probably the only person in her life who hadn’t let her go. She eventually moved her arms up to hug him back, and he finally whispered, “You’ve never given up, Bea. Nothing can break you. Don’t let this.” 

She gripped his jacket, and then whispered, “Violet has his eyes.” 

“Yes.” 

“Klaus has his voice.” 

“Yes.” 

“Sunny has his laugh.” she allowed herself the smallest smile. “How did that even happen?” 

“The magic of bisexuality.” 

“Bertrand.” she stroked his arm, and then pulled away, pressing her forehead against his. “Violet walks like you. She paces and skips the same way. Did you ever notice that?” 

“No.” 

“Klaus squints like you,” Beatrice continued, grabbing his hand, “When he’s angry or focusing or tired. You and him flap your hands from up-and-down instead of side-to-side like Violet.” 

“Is that so?” 

“And Sunny looks just like you. She pretty much just stole your face.” Beatrice let herself laugh a second. 

Bertrand let her laugh, and then he said, “Violet has your determination. Your protectiveness, of everyone you love. And Klaus has your hair and your eyes and your… how do I put this?” 

“Impulsivity?” 

“Sure, yeah. And Sunny… she just has your fire, Bea.” 

Beatrice shut her eyes. “They’re all of us.” 

“All of us. They’re our babies. And we-” 

The door slammed open, and Bertrand shut up as fast as he could. He whipped his head towards the door, squinting in the sudden light, pressing his wife closer to him. But she looked up, looked to the doorway just in time to see Olaf drag the boy in behind them. 

“We’ve finished with the Quagmire boy for now,” he said simply, walking across the room as they saw Quigley stumble behind him, his feet barely keeping any form of balance, “So he’ll be here until it’s time for the big show we have planned.” 

“Quigley?” Beatrice’s eyes widened, and she tried to move forwards, but as Olaf shut a clamp around the boy’s leg, she found that she was, as was normal, just out of reach. “Quigley!” 

“What did you do?” Bertrand said, his voice only just above a gasp. “What did you do to him?” 

“Quigley!” 

“Leave him alone- Olaf-” 

“God, you two never shut up, do you?” Olaf sighed. He locked Quigley’s clamp, and then stood. “We’ll have some fun in a little while, but for now we have to go fetch a surprise for you. Play nice.” 

“What did you do to him?” Bertrand demanded, his eyes following Olaf as the man shrugged and walked out. “What did you- no!” 

“Quigley!” 

Quigley wasn’t responding. Their eyes had to re-adjust to the dark once the door slammed shut, but they could tell he was huddled against the pole he was chained to, and he appeared to be shaking. 

Beatrice, desperate, stretched as far as she could. She ended up practically laying on her stomach, reaching out her arm as far as it would go, desperately trying to grab his hand. 

Then, slowly, Quigley reached out an arm, and they barely managed to touch fingertips. Beatrice could feel him trembling now, and she just said, “Quigley, Quigley we’re so sorry… we’re so sorry, what happened? What did they do to you?” 

Quigley opened his mouth to respond, and all that came out was a cry. 

Beatrice and Bertrand both choked back their own sobs, and Beatrice tried desperately to reach farther, to grab his hand, to tell him everything was going to be okay. To lie to him no matter how recently she herself had fallen into nothingness. 

“Quigley, we’re right here. We won’t let him hurt you again.” Bertrand choked out, also reaching out though he knew he was even farther than Beatrice was. “Quigley?” 

Quigley started crying more loudly, trying and failing to stretch farther, unable to do more than reach and sob. For a while, the Baudelaires were silent, just letting him know they were there, just reaching out to show they were trying, that they would do their best to comfort him. 

“Quigley…” Beatrice finally whispered. “We’re here. We’re sorry.” 

Bertrand shut his eyes a moment, and when he opened them again, he reached again and said, “Is there anything we can do?” 

Quigley cried a little quieter, still stretching to touch Beatrice’s fingertips, and after what had to be minutes, in which he struggled to calm down enough to speak, he finally had one request. 

“C-can you… can you say the- the poem again?” 

His voice was scratchy, broken, and tired, he sounded so tired, but there was a desperation in there. Please, please just say the poem again. 

Beatrice started crying again, distraught at his pleading but trying to smile for his sake as she brushed against his hand. Bertrand also started to cry, but he managed to keep his tears silent, hoping that Quigley wouldn’t notice. 

Slowly, he nodded. 

“It was s-six men of Indoostan To learning much inclined Who… who went to see the elephant…”

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Fifty-Six: Can’t Be Sure ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Uchiha Itachi, Uchiha Shisui ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: A Light Amongst Shadows ] [ AO3 Link ]

He knew it would start happening eventually. It was inevitable. The way the fringes of the crowd had looked at Kakashi’s coronation - which doubled as the announcement of Itachi’s public pardon - gave Sasuke a knowing that they would have no peace. Between the two brothers, their list of crimes was more than long enough. Someone, somewhere, would retaliate.

He just never expected it to be quite this bad.

Back when he and Hinata first started talking about the possibility of being together, he’d warned her. At that point, at its worst, it was glares and mutters. Sometimes thrown mud, or shouted insults. None of which Sasuke minded, unless it was turned on someone other than himself...and already it had. Just being seen with him had subjected her to the occasional pitfall. But if they were to get serious - and even then Sasuke knew, if he was going to try a relationship, it would be all or nothing - she had to be ready for things to get worse.

A lot worse.

She told him she was already expecting it Already prepared for it. No longer was Hinata the shy little genin he barely remembered. The jōnin rank she bore then - even if she’d shifted departments to the police - had been earned the hard way. In most cases, she could handle herself, if it ever came to physical confrontations. And her kekkei genkai gave her an edge: it might not be the sensory ability Itachi’s wife could rely on, but at least it could let her see that which - to most - was unseen.

For a long while, it remained...somewhat unimportant. The insults kept up. As did the taunting, the object-throwing, the glowers at their backs.

...then there was the lone adversary that came after Itachi’s family. Right in the heart of the village. They’d been stopped, but also spouted off dangerous rhetoric that promised it would only be the beginning. That they weren’t acting alone, either.

They’d all reconvened in the manor, the trio still hidden away in the master bedroom as the matriarch tried to dry her children’s fearful tears.

Sasuke had never seen Itachi that angry before.

His temper was always cold, steely, sharp. Unconsciously he’d summoned his Sharingan as he stalked through the main room to pace off his agitation. Shisui looked tempted to do the same...but also held back to let Itachi have his moment.

“...they’re getting bolder.”

“But who are they?” Sasuke cut in, hands gesturing and displaying his being at a loss. “We have no idea where this is coming from - where the root of the problem lies.”

“This is new,” was Itachi’s curt retort. “Everything before this was child’s play. This...is another level. Something more serious, more...organized, and resolute. They meant to kill my family. I’m almost certain the enemy’s underestimation is all that saved them. They didn’t expect her to retaliate as...violently as she did.”

“Well she’s not known for it,” Shisui agreed dryly.

“So we don’t know who these people are?” Hinata asked, seated beside Sasuke and looking perturbed. “They haven’t made any loyalty claims?”

“Not yet...the culprit was taken to the station, but I’ve been informed T&I is taking a crack at them now. For the moment, we know nothing about their motives, their goals...we can’t be sure of anything.”

“All we do know is that anti-Uchiha efforts have official reached a new level of serious,” Shisui murmured, his usually-playful expression hardened. “...we have to be careful. Whoever these assholes are, they know our weak points.”

“Easy enough to guess,” Sasuke rebuked. “My skills are legendary...as are yours, and Itachi’s. Hinata is a seasoned shinobi.” He nodded toward the bedroom. “She’s a non-combat medic, and they’re five-year-olds. No shit they’d be hit first.”

Itachi’s pacing suddenly stilled, a hand over his eyes. “...I let this happen.”

“Like hell you did, they -!”

“I haven’t been putting enough measures in place. I left them open.”

“Who would expect an attack in broad daylight, in the middle of a crowded street?”

“That is the point: it was meant to be completely unexpected. Nowhere is safe. And no one.”

Having faded into quiet for a time, Hinata murmured, “...I don’t think this was meant to be a successful attack.”

“Why not?”

“Like you say...the circumstances were the least ideal. To me...this feels more like a test. Looking for weakness. You say she and the kids are the most vulnerable point. Then why do that? They wanted to be sure. Throw someone at us and see what would happen. And she proved she’s not as open a target as many would likely assume. I’m willing to bet there will be more like this. They’ll come at us from different angles. Randomly. Trying to find a gap in our defenses.”

“...the ones they’ll assume are most open are you two,” Sasuke replied. “My brother, cousin and I all have extreme reputations. They don’t need to test us: they know where we stand. But you two are wild cards. And also sentimental.”

“...for now, everyone must be on full alert,” Itachi commanded. “No one goes anywhere alone. I want a spare officer with my wife and children at all times when one of us is not available. Leave the houses - the district - as infrequently as possible. If they wish to put our defenses to the test...we will harden them.”

They all left the gathering with a clear feeling of edge. Shisui went to report to the Rokudaime, while Sasuke and Hinata lingered outside.

“I want to stay.”

“Out of the question.”

“But -?”

“The safest place for you is far away from me.”

Pale eyes went wide. “...are you telling me to leave?”

“I’m telling you it would be wise.”

“...I’m pretty sure that damage has already been done, Sasuke. Even if I leave now, if they’re extending their efforts to anyone involved with you, then...consider me marked.”

Sasuke’s scowl only darkened. “...I told you it would get bad.”

“And I agreed anyway! I’m not afraid -!”

“Have you considered that I am?”

...that brought her up short.

“...right now, there is an unknown threat, of unknown size, or strength, or origin, that is clearly trying to hunt us all down. Which likely includes you. While I doubt very much it would be easy for me, Itachi, or Shisui to be taken down, they -”

“Are you calling me weak?”

“I’m calling you vulnerable. Hinata, listen to me.” Sasuke put hands atop her shoulders, expression fervent. “...my brother was a nukenin for a decade. There’s little this world can throw at him that he can’t beat. Naruto and I are the strongest shinobi in the world. Shisui had a flee-on-sight order when he was fifteen, and survived a trial most wouldn’t have survived. He’s all the stronger now. I know you aren’t weak. But...you haven’t been through what we’ve been through. You aren’t used to being hunted. Hated. We are. We’ve lived it. For a long time. We have instincts against it. You, and Itachi’s wife, and the kids...you don’t. And I’m willing to bet the enemy has thought of that. I’m not saying you can’t take most people one-on-one. But you have to remember: whoever these people are? They’re not afraid to break laws to get to us. To play dirty. We don’t know how many there are - they might keep coming and coming until we’re all exhausted, and slip up. And if I -”

There was a break as his throat tightened. “...if I lost you...I’d probably do something very stupid. I’d rather let you go than know it was me who brought you to ruin.”

Staring silently, Hinata wilted. “...and I’d rather face this together than let you push me away.”

“Hinata -”

“You said it yourself: your family is powerful. So is mine! We made this alliance for a reason. To help keep the Uchiha safe. Even if you left me, we’d still be connected. I’d still be fighting for you, with you.” A gentle smile lifted her lips. “...so, why distress yourself by breaking us up...when it’s clear we’re strongest together?”

A single dark eye flickered between her pale pair. “...we’ll talk about it more later. But I do want you back in the Hyūga compound for tonight. Your father would kill me if you stayed here overnight, anyway.”

That earned a soft snort. “...all right. But I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Fine. I’ll walk you.”

They parted at the white-eyed clan’s gate, a pair of her kin taking her in. Sasuke just nodded as she left, not wanting to do much more in plain sight anyway. Head bowing, he mulled over the day, and his options. To his chagrin...she’s right. She’s always right.

So, with a sigh, he left her home behind...and headed back toward his own.

     Aaand late again - I'm still very sick, so I took most of the day off...but I'll be darned before I miss a day if I can really help it xD      Anywho, this is actually some meaty ALAS plot...stuff! The third arc of the story (aka everything post 699) is VERY canon divergent, and focuses on the Uchiha and their reintegration...and its difficulties. Not everyone is happy the Uchiha are back in Konoha, let alone alive. And that includes anyone tied to them, too.      Sasuke actually accidentally hinted at the problem, if one looks closely enough :3c      But yes, that's today's piece done! Now I'm going to go drown myself in a shower to try to wash this sickness away, then go crash ahaha - thank you so much for reading!