#shout out to paper bleed through i love you paper that wasn't meant for anything heavier than a 3H <3333333333

[lightbulb-warning]

♡ kaeeeeeYAYdeeeeeeeeee ♡

[beansmack2021]

Wesper w/ Prompt 11

A job goes wrong and one of the Crows is injured. Hurt/Comfort

"Oh God, you're bleeding"

"Should be an easy in and out, but be ready for anything." Typical Kaz, ever so peachy. Jesper sighed as he polished his pearl-handled revolvers. He knew that "an easy in and out" meant they'd probably be caught mid-escape and have to fight their way out. Wylan leaned over and hugged Jesper's neck, watching as he cleaned his revolvers for the fourth time today.

"You're worried. Why are you worried? This is supposed to be an easy job."

"Easy jobs always mean fighting. They're never actually easy. I just don't want anyone getting hurt."

Wylan nodded, he knew Jesper had been more anxious about one of the Crows getting hurt, especially now with the Black Heretic back. But he also knew it that Jesper loved this type of job more than any other, so it had to be something more.

"What's on your mind?" He was now at his side, crouched low and looking directly into his eyes. Jesper looked at him for a moment and opened his mouth to say something, but smiled instead and leaned in closer to whisper. "I'm thinking about how badly I want to kiss you right now." Wylan knew that wasn't the full truth, though he'd be lying if he said he hadn't also been thinking about kissing Jesper, too. He stood up, pecked his lover on the lips, and turned to go get ready for their job.

They left the Slat in pairs or individually, so as not to raise suspicion for anyone still out on the streets at night, but Kaz had said they'd all meet a few buildings down from the residence that they'd be breaking into. Of course, by meet, Kaz meant that Inej would be on the rooftops and Nina would be at least 30 seconds ahead of them, bringing the guards to unconsciousness.

Things were going according to plan so far, as they'd made their way up a grand staircase and down a long hallway to the office. Kaz would be rummaging through the drawers for papers and the key to a large safe in the corner of the room while Jesper stood watch and Wylan hid around a corner down the way, ready to distract if necessary.

But everything went sour when they'd heard yelling downstairs. Jesper knocked on the office door three times to tell Kaz he had about 5 minutes to get out, and then he heard one of Wylan's explosives going off.

"Guess it's play time." Jesper held up both of his revolvers, slinking around the corner and firing without even really looking. He doesn't have to look to know that he hit his target dead-on.

He glanced at Wylan, crouched low on the other side of the top of the stairwell. Jesper quickly crossed, firing a few rounds while he did. "How are you doing?" He yelled over the loud banging and shouting. When Wylan coughed and groaned in response, Jesper turned to face him. He paled immediately.

"Oh saints, you're bleeding."

"Astute observation, my love."

"Don't be sarcastic with me, mister."

Wylan opened his mouth, likely to make another remark, but he coughed again, clutching his side in pain. Jesper needed a plan. He needed to get Wylan out, and fast.

"What can I do? What can I do?" He looked around for anything he could use, or any exit they'd missed to escape through. When he saw nothing, he resorted to crouching and putting pressure on Wylan's wound. He'd been shot, and Jesper looked at Wylan's back. There wasn't an exit wound. Jesper wracked his brain for anything. He didn't trust himself not to freak Wylan out or hurt him with his power, but he had to do something.

As if reading his mind, Wylan dragged his eyes up to Jesper's and nodded. No words, but Jesper knew exactly what he was saying.

𝘐 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧. 𝘐 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘮𝘦, 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦.

Jesper took a deep, shuddering breath and wiped away a tear he didn't even know he'd cried. He held his hand over Wylan's wound, leaning him forward slightly. After almost too long, the bullet poured out of him and onto the ground in a silver puddle. Jesper sighed in relief and Wylan gave him a shaky, sleepy smile.

Jesper smiled as a sob escaped him, and he kissed Wylan before standing again to see what the fighting had turned into. Apparently, it'd turned into Nina taking down at least 15 burly men by herself. He called her up to the top of the staircase to heal Wylan, and sank against the wall, exhausted, relieved and a little proud of himself.

[spicycreativity]

Soft-Shoe Shuffle - Ch 7

Chapter: 7/12 Additional Notes: See Ch 1 for more information. Read on AO3 under "WizardGlick." Any formatting/italics errors are holdovers from AO3 that I was too lazy to fix. Chapter Content Warnings: derealization/delirium, fainting, general depictions of illness Excerpt: It was quiet in the hall, but that didn't mean much as of late. Still, it didn't matter. Janus' days of skulking around in the shadows were well and truly over. Now he would stand tall in the light so intense it didn't even let him cast a shadow.

Mhm, a monster's here Mhm, you plug your ears But hey, you might just listen to it sing Please let the Devil in

Janus awoke with a single-minded focus and a fire raging in his chest; it burnt away the distractions and fears he built for himself. He had to talk to Roman and it couldn't wait another second. He'd already put it off for far too long.

Getting out of bed was a struggle; Janus' blankets were all tangled up in his legs. He threw them on the floor and got up, bypassing the folded paper on his nightstand. He had neither the time nor the patience for another one of Remus' awful poems.

It was quiet in the hall, but that didn't mean much as of late. Still, it didn't matter. Janus' days of skulking around in the shadows were well and truly over. Now he would stand tall in the light so intense it didn't even let him cast a shadow.

He knocked on Roman's door with a bare fist and listened for the shuffling of feet on the floor. No sound came. He knocked again. "It's Janus," he said, lest Roman mistake him for Patton and bury his head deeper in the sand. "I've come to apologize."

The door flew open and would have bounced off the wall had Roman not caught it with his hand. It left his chest wide open, vulnerable, showed Janus all the bleeding wounds he hadn't seen before. "Great," he said, glowering at Janus. "So you can run back to the others and brag about how much better of a person you are than me?"

Janus blinked hard. The lights from Roman's room formed a halo behind his head and surely that wasn't symbolic at all.

"No," Janus said with difficulty. His mouth was dry and his tongue didn't seem to want to work.

It had been warm in the hall but as he stepped over the threshold into Roman's room, a creeping chill made his joints stick.

"Are you coming in or not?" Roman asked.

Janus shut the door behind him and fought to regain his wits. The simple act of standing left him breathless and sore, but it made the fog roll out a little. "Aren't you going to offer me a chair?"

Roman glared at him. With choppy, deliberate movements, he grabbed the back of his rolling desk chair and thrust it at Janus.

"Thank you." Janus sat and fixed his eyes on Roman's hazy, angry features. The ceiling light made his eyes ache, but he refused to flinch. He had to get this right.

"Well, Billy Flynn-truder." Roman held out his arms, again opening up his chest. Janus blinked. There had never been any blood on him at all, had there? "What do you really want?"

"What?" Janus asked through numb lips.

"Like you'd ever apologize to me. That was just another lie to get me to let you in, and guess what? It worked. You got me again, Deceit."

"Janus."

Roman scoffed. "Spit it out already, Horrorboros."

Janus squinted. Hadn't he already said? Maybe he hadn't. He pulled his elbows in tight to his sides and shivered. "I came to apologize."

"Fine, we're sticking with that." Roman towered over him, anger blazing in his eyes.

For a split second, Janus was worried Roman might hit him, never mind the fact that, for all his boisterousness, Roman had never been the overly violent sort. But now the possibility loomed in Janus' mind and made him shudder and pull his arms tighter around himself. "I'm sorry."

"There, it's over." Roman turned away from him. "Run and tell Patton and Tho-- and the others what a good boy you are. Everyone loves a reformed sinner."

"I'm sorry," Janus said again. "I--" Shame made his face hot even as icy shudders ran through his limbs. "Roman, I n-never meant to hurt you."

"Never?" Roman asked, low and deadly.

"Well, at the end--" What was wrong with him? It was a struggle to get words out, any words at all. Even the wrong words. The walls tilted sickeningly. "It was wrong of me to use you. The courtroom scenario-- I told you what you wanted to hear."

"I know."

"And I'm sorry. I shouldn't have played with your emotions. I didn't-- I didn't know better at the time; I was scared, and... I-- I would have done anything to get you to listen to me."

Roman whipped his head around so sharply it made Janus' own neck ache in sympathy. "You're lying."

Despair rose in Janus' chest, trying to escape in the form of one desperate, broken sob. He swallowed it down. "Not this time."

"Why should I believe you?" Roman demanded.

"Because I mean it!" Janus shot back at equal volume. It sent waves of agony pulsing through his head. "I'm sorry I lied to you. I'm sorry I used you. I'm sorry I hurt you. I just wanted you to listen to me. That's all I ever wanted."

"That's. Not. Good enough."

"It's all I have. I gave you my name, Roman. I don't have anything else to give." Janus' chest ached as he took in frantic, shallow gasps. Tears welled up his eyes, not of shame or penance, but fear. What if he wasn't good enough? What if he lost his place?

"Spare me," Roman said, voice sharp with disgust. Janus looked up at him, fighting exhaustion with every muscle in his body.

Roman frowned. "That's not going to work."

"What?" Janus sighed, feeling his posture worsen with the prolonged exhalation.

"Stand up," Roman demanded. "Stop looking at me like that."

It was the least he could do. Janus stood even though his legs shook underneath him.

"Where are your gloves?" Roman asked. He sounded very far away. "Where's your hat?"

"I don't know," Janus said numbly. He could feel himself shivering even though he could no longer feel the cold. He tried to stop and couldn't, and that fact bothered him less than he thought it should.

"Janus, seriously. I'm not buying it. Drop the act."

Janus just shook his head. Roman didn't have to keep rubbing it in, although he probably was revelling in Janus' failure.

He would crawl back to Remus, then, except… He couldn't seem to move.

"Fine!" Roman shouted. "You're scaring me. I'll-- I'll hear you out, just stop--"

His words faded under the sharp hiss and roar of static in Janus' ears. He fell to his knees, gasping for breath. White and red crowded his vision; his face connected hard with Roman's sash.

Then, just like the end of the movie, everything faded to black.

Aside

Roman's voice sounded in Logan's dreams and ripped him back to reality. His body moved before he registered what was happening, a fight-or-flight response he didn't usually exhibit.

He ripped the door open and came face to face with Roman, who…

Logan's stomach dropped.

In his arms, Roman cradled Janus' unconscious form. His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths and his face was frighteningly pale where it wasn't stained an angry, feverish red.

"I swear I didn't do anything to him!" Roman said frantically. "He was in my room and we-- He-- I don't know what happened!"

"Roman," Logan said. "I need you to breathe." He paused and made a split-second decision. "Follow me."

He stepped around Roman, careful not to bump into Janus, and strode down the hall toward Janus' door.

"When did that happen?" Roman asked, seeming to forget his panic in his surprise.

"After…" Logan said. "Well." He didn't usually shy away from difficult topics of conversation, but he thought it best not to upset or overwhelm Roman at the moment. He took the handle and opened the door for Roman. "Put him on the bed, please."

"Right." Roman entered and hesitated, letting out a shaky breath through his nose as he looked around.

"Roman," Logan prompted.

"Sorry." Roman swallowed hard and gently set Janus on the bed. "I just-- I don't know what happened."

"He's sick," Logan said, taking care to keep his voice even. It wouldn't do to further upset Roman.

"I can see that!" Roman snapped.

"Roman. Breathe. You didn't do anything wrong." Logan needed a scan thermometer, and one manifested in his hand. The readout forced him to swallow down a wave of concern. "I need ice," he said. Ice packs appeared under Janus' arms and legs where they connected with his torso.

Janus yelped and thrashed, tears forming in his eyes. Logan held him by the shoulders until his struggling died down into the occasional flinch and shudder.

"You're hurting him!" Roman shouted. He took a deep breath. "Sorry-- Sorry, I know--"

"It's okay," Logan said. "Sit down." He held eye contact while Roman sank down into one of Janus' leather armchairs. "He's going to be okay, Roman."

Roman braced his elbow on one armrest and cupped his forehead in his hand. "I keep messing up," he said in a strained, thin voice.

Calling Patton for backup would only add more emotions to the situation and make it harder to look after both Janus and Roman. Logan had to handle this himself. "Roman, Janus has been sick since last night. Whatever happened wasn't your fault."

"I can't believe his door moved!"

Logan sat down on the edge of the bed, apprehension increasing his heart rate. He had done all he could do for Janus. Now it was time to put his underdeveloped interpersonal skills to the test, as adding anyone else to the equation would only make things messier and less efficient.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?"

"He apologized to me!" Roman looked angry. Logan couldn't fathom why. He had felt a nearly overwhelming sense of relief when Janus had apologized to him. Relief and responsibility to correct his own mistakes. Why was Roman angry?

"You didn't want that?" Logan guessed.

"I don't know! I'm confused." Roman sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, Logan, I know emotions aren't your thing."

"I…" Logan adjusted his tie. "I'm working on it. Please be patient with me."

"Jeeze, what all did I miss?" Roman asked, touching his forehead.

"Quite a bit," Logan said, before realizing that the question was probably rhetorical. "Roman, to be completely honest, I don't know what you need right now."

"I know." Roman sighed and shifted positions so he could rest his elbows on his knees. "I'll-- I'll figure it out. I'll go back to my room and get out of your way…"

"I want to help you," Logan said. His own emotions were distant, abstract, confusing things, so he used broad terminology to better make his point. "I feel… worried." Roman took a breath to interrupt, but Logan held up a hand. "I'm not done."

"Sorry," Roman mumbled

"I'm worried about you," Logan said. "And it was Janus who helped me reach the point where I can tell you this now: I care about you, Roman. I don't want you to go back to your room."

"But I'm… I don't--" Roman swallowed hard and tears welled up in his eyes. "I don't deserve--"

"Roman," Logan interrupted. Guilt reared up at his having done so, but he couldn't allow Roman to further agitate himself. "It's not about what you think you deserve. It's about trying to be better than you were before. Hiding away in your room accomplishes nothing. I know that's not who you are. You're brave and headstrong and I've never known you to run away from a challenge."

Roman sniffled and wiped his eyes on the back of his hand. "Wow, Teacher Feature. That was really…" He sighed and seemed to lose interest in what he was about to say. "Thank you, Logan. I'm just… Embarrassed. I acted like…"

Logan physically bit down on his tongue to avoid suggesting a few vocabulary words.

"Like Captain Hammer," Roman said.

Logan frowned. "You beat up Janus in an attempt to win Patton's and/or Thomas' affections?"

" No, Specs," Roman chuckled mirthlessly. "Well. Not literally. But I did make fun of him in front of everyone. And not in the fun way, like when I tease you guys." He flashed Logan a smile. "And then he apologized to me! Or tried to." Roman ran his hands through his hair. "But that makes me the villain of the story!"

"Ah," said Logan, thrown for somewhat of a (metaphorical) loop. "Well. Are you planning on building a giant freeze ray?"

"No."

"Do you seek world domination?"

"No…?"

"Do you believe that you are entitled to hurt others or that their desires are somehow expendable in service of your own?"

"No?"

"Then you're not a villain, Roman, super or otherwise. You're just human. Well, as human as any of us can possibly be. You made mistakes. So did Patton. So did Janus. So did I. The best thing you can do, in my opinion, is to work to make things better. I believe that's what Janus was attempting to do when he visited you "

"Ugh!" Roman ran his hands down his face. "I can't believe he beat me to the punch!"

Logan squinted. "So you did hit him?"

"Just an expression, Spocktor Who."

"I see."

Well… If Janus did it first, I'm going to do it better ," Roman said.

[mama-ghostie-61542]

A Thousand Lifetimes

Rated M++ for language and themes

If you recognize it, IT AIN'T MINE.

Sorry for the OOC-ness

Chapter 4

Wolf--

"If I hear the word 'Mom' anytime in the next five minutes, you are, all three, gonna lose grandparent privilege's! Enough with the fighting. 'Kala, you need to get over there and do your homework."

"But, Mom," my younger son shouted. "I can't do it alone."

"Yes, you can, dear. All you have to do is write the words in the blanks."

Mornings here were always crazy. This year, they got worse, with all three kids home all day and me working three jobs from home, while taking a few classes to keep up my certification. But what would do my head in were the constant conflicts of scheduling the boys services around project deadlines. Especially when my childless brother was my boss...One of them.

A text came through ~'Hey, Bry, do you have those reports ready? I have to submit them to the bank this afternoon.'

Loveland Demolition was well known in the Midwest, and had been doing well before the pandemic, but now, we were expanding again. I dug around in my ever expanding pile of outgoing paperwork for the fax copy of the expense reports my brother wanted. Why everything with this end of the family business went through me, I would never know. Maybe it was because he had named me our VP of NE Operations. Like I didn't have a decent job already. I mean, I didn't get my Doctorate for it to look pretty on my wall.

Speaking of, I have a class in 15 minutes. Botany of Common Herbs.

I sent off a quick message, ~ I faxed them yesterday. Did you not get them before the boys did?~

My brothers pit bulls were notorious for grabbing the pages as they fell out of the fax machine and shredding them.

A few minutes later, he replied, ~Dammit, Pita! The Pain got 'em. Already in transit?~

~Yep. UPS grabbed it yesterday. Email?~

~Ok. No. Need hard copy. Will reschedule with the bank. Do good in class today!~

About that time I got a plastic cup thrown in my general direction with my oldest son yelling, "More water! Please, Mommy."

Thankfully, my Botany Professor understands me being a little late, as she has a Downie of her own.

I get his water, and as I am standing at the sink for a few seconds extra to breathe, I feel a cold spot on one hip and the pressure of a thumb on my cheek.

'You are amazing, my Queen. You've got this.'

I smile as the feeling, and the ghost of his smiling eyes fades. How does he always know when the stress is getting to me and just what to say; just what to do. It's like I don't have to say a word, he just knows.

Great....Now I am gonna be all giggly the rest of the day. Probably gonna get an email from my Professor, too; nosy old bat.

Kihyun PoV

It was almost 22:00 when I felt the wobble in thin silver thread that connected us. As I reached for it, I felt her stress and frustration start to bleed through and somehow, instinctively knew what to do. It bothers me when she gets this stressed, because she forgets to take care of herself. And then the tension lodges in her back, manifesting as a knot just to the left of her spine.

Settling myself into my meditation, I could almost see her standing at the sink, working on something. Always working, this girl; whether it's on her actual job, her side hustle, an Etsy store where she sells knit caps, or the boys' homework. She ALWAYS has something going on. Her brothers hare-brained decision to expand the family business does not help in the slightest.

As I settle in, I can hear the din of the kids yelling, a timer going off on something, and from some where, another louder ding. She is amazing, how she can just take it all in stride. Some how, I know, she just needs a second to breathe, so I imagine my hand on her hip; stopping her right where she stands.

I visualize my hand cupping her cheek, and whispering to her, 'You are amazing, my Queen. You've got this.' I can't help the smile that spreads across my face as I see her smile. That soft, sweet smile, that just borders on the verge of blushing. I send how I feel seeing her smile down that thread and, some how, just know that she will be smiling all day now.

Awakening from my meditation, I glance at the clock. Hmm. Time for bed. But first, I am curious about the next chapter. How in the hell, with everything else she has on her plate, did she find the time to write this.

I set back on my bed, my pillows piled up behind me, and start reading.

Still Joey

I couldn't sleep so I got up at sunrise and made coffee. Sis woke up a little while later. I heard her alarm go off and then, I heard her sniffle a little. As she stumbled to the kitchen for her morning coffee, her whole bearing was like all the wind had been sucked out of her.

My heart went out to her.

"Sis. What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Joey. Just my own brain. Think I am going crazy. That's all."

I'm right there with you.

"Explain," I said.

Rather than use actual words, she put on 'Comatose' by Too Close To Touch. "This says it better than I ever could."

I set aside the story and brought up the song. As I sat there listening, I could almost feel how hurt she was. How she thought she was going crazy. I wanted, so much, to fly to her, where ever she was.

"Sissie," I sighed, "What is the matter?"

"I think I am losing my mind, Joey. I just don't want to remember, if remembering is always going to hurt. I'm afraid that it will cost me the one of the two things I am most afraid to lose; my kids or my mind."

"You aren't going crazy, Sis. Who told you that you were crazy for feeling like that?"

"Mom. According to her, I am. Apparently, it is all just a construct of my own mind. Can't be real because it's all in my head, but it is all that I could ever dream of. It makes me want to sleep until it is real. I want to forget the way his voice sounds, cause it hurts too much to hear it when I am alone. I want to forget the color of his eyes, but I see it everyday in my coffee. I want to forget it all, so it doesn't hurt anymore. There is no way he can be real. No way his smell can be real. The more I remembered, I guess, the more I want to forget."

"Bryn, tell me about him?"

"What does it matter? He is no more than a fantasy my own mind created," she said as she dug in a cabinet and added a more than generous amount of Jack Daniels to her coffee.

"Bry! Really??"

"What," she groused as she sipped on her coffee flavored whiskey.

"It is barely sun rise and you are already drinking. What would he say if he caught you?"

"Doesn't matter," she grumbled as her bottom lip pulled in a little and blinked rapidly, a sure sign she was fighting back her own tears. I could see her start to fold in around herself.

'No, my dear, I am very real. And very disappointed.'

"Bullshit," I yelled. "It does matter! I will prove you wrong. I'll prove to you that he is very real," I growled in my own temper, as I leaned over the table at her, "and I know him. He would be so disappointed in you, right now. Instead of working with the connection, you were trying to drown the memories in whis-," I came to a dead stop as I realized what was actually happening. "How long have you been fighting them? The memories, I mean."

'Told ya. Wait. What!? She'd been wrestling with our memories? Oh, my stubborn Wolf, you were never meant to carry them all yourself.'

She deflated and slid the mug away from her. Resting her head on her arms, she whispered, "I was 14 the first time I remembered anything. At the time it was no more than a whisper, a cold spot when I was upset or hurting. Which, lets be honest, was a lot of the time back then. When I was 16, I finally worked up the courage to talk to someone about my dreams. My mistake was telling Ma."

I cringed. I had heard nasty stories about her mom, but sat still and let her continue.

Is her mother really that bad? How much of this had she been keeping from me.

"She went off and let loose a litany of my supposed short-comings. I still remember it, to this day. 'You are so stupid. Why would any man, especially one like THAT, want anyone like you. Anyone else would be better than YOU; you stupid, worthless, ignorant, ugly, child.' After that, I went back to keeping it all to myself. This one," she said as she brought up Forest Blakk's 'Find Me', "Says it all."

I put on the song and knew how it had hurt her for years. My anger burned when the artist spoke of being told you were crazy. 'I want her, you Crazy Bitch. Good Mother, Please,' I started, before thinking better of the prayer that had been on my tongue a moment ago. 'Please watch over her, Grandmother.'

Hearing her own mother call her those things, was tough to listen to. But I could tell she still wasn't finished yet. I let her go, she had years of this pain to offload.

"As I got older, it changed. I was almost 26 when the burn of a kiss landed on my cheek. My ex-husband, at the time, saw the blister it left and went ballistic. Woke me up by kicking the end of the bed. 'I want a divorce. I don't know who he is, but I plan on making you pay for it. Now, get your stuff and get out.' And I paid for it, alright. Didn't even bother to ask if I had it the night before, just assumed I was sneaking out. I never did. Looking back now, maybe I should have left the first time accused me. The ink wasn't dry on the divorce papers when he got remarried. Literally, got them both done in half an hour."

"Are you kidding me? He wanted to accuse you, but he...," I will admit that I was finally starting to see just how messed up her life had been. "Did you love him?"

'Messed up,' I thought, 'No, Sir. Her life has been a craptastic shitshow of epic fucking proportions. Honestly, I would like to know what fucking moronic bastard ordered this shitastical fuckfest for my Queen! I'd like to fucking throat punch him.'

She shook her head. "No. My mother sat it all up. Literally walked into the house Friday afternoon and said, 'You are getting married on Monday at 9.' He was getting deployed and she thought he would be a good fit for me, that she would get grands out of the deal. She didn't find out he was fixed until he was already gone. That is where I learned to keep my hair really short. He used to drag me around by it and scream about all of the things I did. The next day he would scream and drag me around by it to yell about all the stuff I didn't get done."

"So it was more or less arranged?"

"Yeah. After that, I met the asshole. The day he left, I had just buried a brother, and I had lost my job; all on my birthday. After all that, I fell into a deep depression. To the point where I would wonder sometimes why I was still breathing. It was in that place that I saw him. It was no more than his eyes, the exact shade of my coffee, and that voice, but still; if not for him..." she trailed off, a haunted look in her eyes.

After a few minutes of her staring off into space, I prodded, "If not for him?"

She turned and looked at me, "I wouldn't be here. I would have cut ties with this world and willingly walked right into that darkness. I can remember him telling me once, 'Don't you give up. Don't you dare give up. Get up, keep moving.' It was those eyes though, watching them seem to burn in the darkness. They stayed with me so much that I drew them at least a thousand times."

"Really?"

"Yep. Dark eyes that burn," she chuckled. "Got called crazy for that one, too. 'Why do you always draw the exact same thing, ya crazy bitch? How about a tree or a nice mountain. Why is it always those damned eyes, Not that a worthless bitch like you can draw anyway.' So yeah, there's that."

"Hold it. She actually called you worthless?"

Bryn just nodded. "Multiple times, and ugly quite a few times. At the end with the ex, she told me, 'I hate that when I, and she stressed the 'I', put a block in your path, you seem to dance around it and go off into the woods and still end up on the other side. That you whip off of the beaten path, going God knows where, on some barely visible game trail, and somehow still come out on the other side, just where you meant to be'. She said nothing pissed her off more than my ability to adapt."

'That's my Ghostie,' I thought as I smiled proudly. 'Her ability to see things others miss, explodes lower minds.'

Now, I have seen pictures of her mom and old photos of Bryn when she was younger. Let me tell you, when she was young, Bryn was coltishly pretty before becoming ethereal. Not that you could tell it now. Now, she jokes that she traded looks for brains about the time she got her doctorate.

"So, how did you end up with Clark?"

"He was there and I was getting tired of waiting, tired of my Auntie's trying to set me up with whatever boy they could find. One tried to set me up with her ex-nephew. That was nothing but awkward. We are still good friends, almost family. He has said before, 'I love you to bits, but that is icky, you are like a sister to me. Now, please, go throw on a skirt, you have amazing legs and should show them off.' That boy can turn up the girlfriend vibe in 3 seconds...flat.

I know someone who can do that. Weird.

"In the end, I got tired of the pitying looks I would get at the family things. Truth be told, when I told him to either commit or get out, I thoroughly expected him to take off at a run, like he couldn't get away fast enough. Before I knew what had happened, he told everyone I had proposed and picked a Saturday. After that, it was a whirlwind and I almost took off."

"Took off? Eloped?"

She snickered. "No. Ran away. Far away."

"Oh. So you almost pulled a runner?"

"Oh yeah. Had my bestie stand up with me because I knew that if Haka showed up and objected, he would have knocked Clark to the floor to give me time to run."

'I very nearly did show up.'

I thought back to what I said when he finally left.

"What did I say?" I stood there, leaning on the doorway, arms crossed over my chest, fingers tapping on my bicep. The look on my face was thoroughly parental.

"That it would never work."

"And....."

"You were right, I was wrong, I am sorry."

"You gonna listen to me from now on?" My face was passive, but there if she had looked she would have seen the anger in my eyes. I wasn't mad at her, I was more than a little upset with him, though.

"Yes, Dear."

"Good Girl. I'll be home as soon as I can." I cupped her face, kissed her forehead, and said, "Don't do it again. Next time you won't get away with it, my stubborn Wolf."

"Next time?"

I was turning to head back to my body, "First one doesn't count. It was arranged. This one, you got swept up in. Don't do it again. Now, go to sleep."

I had to breathe a minute against the anger building in my chest. Then, I went back to the story.

"You call him 'Haka'? That's cute."

"Yeah, he's Heyhaka, the Elk. Haka, for short. Then there is Sweet Pea, and the occasional Assbag."

"And is he often a jerk?"

"Nah. Only when he is making promises he has no intentions to keep."

'Listen here, Lady! I fully intend to keep them when they are made, Woman!'

"I really don't think he would make them if he didn't intend on keeping them, Sissie. Sometimes, circumstance gets in the way, and then they don't get the focus they deserve. How does he phrase it?"

"All he says is 'Soon'."

I laughed. "The word 'soon' is not a promise. It's an open guarantee."

"What?"

"It's a half promise. He can't put a time on it so he just says soon. You know, sometimes you can be kind of dense."

'Exactly. You are kind of thick sometimes, Darling.'

Bryn's cheeks pinked. "Aww, shut the fuck up," She laughed.

"You've got a potty mouth!"

My jaw dropped. 'Naughty.'

"Like you didn't know or don't have one of your own. Has he not told you the extent of my sailor's mouth?"

"He doesn't know that I know you. I get to hear about everything from both sides. Kinda makes me wanna poke my ear drums out sometimes."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it. You two are fuckin' perfect for each other."

'I guess we are, huh?'

About that time, the kids started waking up. Davidd was first, followed by Mattie, and then Darryn. I was sitting on the couch, getting the walkthrough of how to turn on the cartoon channels when Mattie climbed up next to me and curled up in my side.

"Morning, Munchkin," I said cheerfully.

She sagged against me and whispered, "Morning, Uncle Joey. Can I have some new milk?"

I was taken aback by the simplicity of the request. "Shouldn't you be asking your mom for that?"

"I would but Daddy called and him and mama got into another fight."

'And that just cashed out my good night.', I thought as I could have sworn I heard a knock at my door.

A-N:) Please don't shoot the messenger. Spirit put up some of the tags. Lol.