#so this is probably my body's last huzzah before it collapses

[cross-my-heartt]

sometimes I post like a normal person and sometimes I've had my decaf with a spoonful of sugar and I make it everyone's problem

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 328: Pandora’s Box of Discourse

Previously on BnHA: DEKU TOOK A BATH.

Today on BnHA: 

Also Naomasa grew a beard. Goddamn. 

please let this be a cool chapter that plays nice with my ADHD lol

(ETA: lol I feel guilty because a lot of people hated this chapter, but I’m just happy there was a lot of stuff to make fun of, and also that I have another week to work on my backlog of meta posts since the kids were MIA.)

around one month ago?? ah, okay, so we’re gonna find out what was in that Tartarus security file huh

I love that they just randomly set the place on fire

was it necessary to do this in order to escape? no. was it a good idea to set the island they were occupying on fire while they were in the midst of still occupying it? uh. was it cinematic as fuck? fuck yeah

wow it’s a pervert!!

that’s so great that the villains set loose this fine fellow who I’m sure is definitely not a serial rapist. truly the LoV is so noble and misunderstood. they’re just trying to free society from its chains people

oh my god??!

SHANKED!!! oh my god I cheered for Stain before I realized what I was doing. time to have an identity crisis I guess

so he’s all “hey what’s going on.” which, while a respectable question, is something I personally would have waited to ask until I had put a bit of distance between myself and the fiery murder island. but that’s just my personal preference

Stain you really are tenacious I’ll give you that

“what’s the point of escaping prison if you’re not gonna be smart about it” well shit. anyways yeah you’re dead right, society is in the process of collapsing and the outside world is in total chaos, good call there

oh shit

I mean it’s not like we really expecting anything otherwise, but still. fucking brutal. I feel like these guys’ fates were decided the minute that one guy called AFO “scum” back in chapter 94. AFO is unmatched at getting long-term revenge

??

ahh, was it the security footage??

fdsdfk he’s still alive??

and he’s immediately launching into an inappropriately theatrical monologue even as the darkness closes in on him fdlfksjdlk. you know, was it ever confirmed that the other guy back in chapter 297 was Seiji’s dad? I’m just saying

very impressed that he’s still coherent enough to weigh the pros and cons before making the decision to gamble on giving this info to Stain, who at the very least has his own moral code and isn’t allied with AFO. it was definitely still a risk, but as we now know it was also the right call

what a weird alliance. so Stain tells him that he’ll give it to a just person, and the guy is all,

okay for real though I’m gonna need someone to run a DNA test on this guy. maybe it was some kind of cuckold situation?? the other guy had the family resemblance, but this guy absolutely 100% raised Shishikura Seiji and you are not going to convince me otherwise

anyway, so Stain is all,

PRISON GUARD: “???? ??????? what the hell. what the fuck does that fucking mean. I’m dying here, jesus christ, whatever man fuck you”

(ETA: I kind of feel like this might have been Stain’s last appearance in the manga, given all the fanfare. there’s not really much else he can do for the story at this point, and he seems to have gotten all the character development Horikoshi was planning on giving him. so if this really is it, hasta la vista and good riddance I guess.)

DWLFDKSLDK MEANWHILE, OUTSIDE

(ETA: I feel like this is meant to be evocative of that Sermon on the Mount painting, but in a really fucked up way lol.)

if it were me stumbling upon this scene I would just shake my head and walk right back into the flaming building. not getting involved in that mess. sorry not sorry. I’ll take my chances with the fire, especially given that it’s half-assed neutered BnHA fire lol

blah blah blah and so he decided to pass the info on to All Might -- HOT DAMN, HOLY SHIT

NAOMASA HOLY SHIT. THE APOCALYPSE LOOKS GOOD ON YOU, BOY

“I really like that facial scruff thing Aizawa’s got going on, I think I’m gonna get in on that” yes sir. “also thinking of ditching the tie in favor of the bulletproof vest look. also thinking of getting totally fucking jacked.” good lord. except I’m pretty sure that’s just body armor, but also I don’t care. anyway I should probably stop staring and actually read the fucking speech bubbles here lol

“All Might first handed this information over to Nao, and then went to see Deku, and then came back to Nao” thanks for that tidy little summary Horikoshi. we are capable of piecing events together in sequential order, I just want you to know that. but thank you

“so has Deku finally gotten a bath? also, sucks that Stain saved the day, but what are you gonna do” Nao I missed you so fucking much and didn’t even realize. how am I just now realizing that you are the perfect man

for a second I was gonna ask why Tartarus’s security systems would be cut off from the outside world, and then I remembered that’s a basic security control, and then I actually got impressed by how sensible that is. like, it’s been a while since I could genuinely say that the good guys (excluding class 1-A) did something smart. not that it helped them much in the end, but still

anyway so they’re talking about how AFO was able to coordinate the attack by communicating between his horcrux self on the outside and his ugly peanut-faced self on the inside

huh

okay you have my attention. I am taking notes here lol please continue

ah okay so he says that prior to Jakku, the transfer of information between him and his Vestige self was only one-way. but post-Jakku when Deku was in the hospital, he was able to tell what was happening inside the OFA Radical Lisa Frank Dead People Book Club Realm when he touched him. I feel like we established that before, actually. but he didn’t talk about how it actually felt, though

boy we already know this lol. yes AFO can talk with his horcrux self. and he can also communicate with his little bro in OFA too, let’s talk about that sometime why don’t we. what exactly does that imply, based on the rules we’ve established here

my god I cannot get over Naomasa and his fucking facial hair

no wonder All Might was in such a hurry to leave Deku and get back here

like I have no idea what this radio waves nonsense is but my god, people

that jawline. also so it’s a quirk, I see. except last I checked Deku didn’t have a radio waves quirk, so that doesn’t really explain his connection to AFO. but whatever, hopefully we’re at least getting closer to some kind of reveal here

(ETA: since I sometimes forget that other people’s lives don’t revolve around my theory posts, here are the two relevant links if you by chance want to know my thoughts about this.

Hagakure is still The U.A. Traitor™ regardless of whether Deku is passing information on to AFO through his psychic link, which he almost certainly is.

speaking of said psychic link, Deku is a horcrux.

just posting these now, because whenever trippy OFA stuff happens I tend to get an influx of theory asks. so hopefully this will be a bit of a time saver lol.)

-- wait, what

THAT’S what the recording was??!? holy SHIT. I genuinely was not expecting that. y’all wiretapped his fucking telepathy. fucking quirks, man. wild

AND THEY USED THAT POWER TO DETERMINE WHAT WE ALREADY KNEW, HUZZAH. GOOD SHOW

-- oh shit wait lol, except I forgot we’re not talking about 38 days from the present, we’re talking about 38 days from the date the conversation was recorded. heh. um

yeah that’s the face I would make too if All Fucking Might just casually told me we had eight days left until the end times

oh, pardon me. three fucking days

r.i.p. anyone who thought we were going to have another band arc sob. I sure hope Deku is enjoying that nap

(ETA: I realize people were hoping for a longer rest period here, but given that the man warned us all the way back in chapter 306 that we were entering the final act, you can’t really blame him too much when that turns out to be true. anyway but I do recognize that we’ve reached the point in the story where this kind of discourse is going to become a weekly occurrence, simply because there’s no possible way for Horikoshi’s actual endgame to line up perfectly with the variable headcanons of millions of fans, all of whom have wildly differing and in many cases contradictory expectations which can’t possibly all be fulfilled. anyway, so I’m already bracing myself for that lol. this coming year is going to be a wild ride.)

damn, U.A. out here looking like the motherfucking United Nations

-- is this U.A.?? I actually just realized, U.A. is four interconnected buildings, not two. wait holy shit is this Shiketsu?

wait holy SHIT

based on the overwhelmingly powerful vibes of bureaucratic incompetence, I’m thinking this really is the (future) U.N., or whatever organization it is that deals with international hero stuff

“just let them handle it themselves I’m sure they’ll be fine” yeah okay, thanks guys. appreciate it

wait oh shit did he say that it’s not just Japan?

soooo, what you’re telling me is that AFO is this close to bringing about the end of not just Japan, but the entire world, and you guys don’t think it’s a good idea to help the Japanese heroes stop him? so, genuine follow-up question: are you guys already planning your rich people exodus into space a la Wall-E, and that’s why you don’t give a fuck?? like, what??

omg international heroes

these guys are from World Hoodie Mission, right? is this Horikoshi’s way of reminding me to buy tickets

(ETA: and it worked too lol.)

WHO??? WHAT???

don’t tell me you’re introducing yet another badass new female character for me to fall in love with only to watch as you dismember them and/or blow them up, Horikoshi. I’m getting tired of playing this game my dude. don’t lie and tell me this time will be different. we’re not doing this again goddammit

noooooooooooooooooooo

god fucking dammit lmao. [sighs and rips the previous paragraph into shreds]

on behalf of Americans I apologize for our superheroes always being Like This

I also apologize because I love her already and I’m gonna be shameless about it. so fucking shameless you guys

is her fucking hair red white and blue. it is, isn’t it

this is the volume cliffhanger, 100% lol. it will take every ounce of Horikoshi’s willpower not to put her on the volume cover. he’ll have to settle for the spine or the inner cover this time because Deku VS his class 1-a superpals takes precedence. but it will be a close thing let me tell you

tbh it’s that smile that does it for me. she’s definitely All Might’s protege. get out there and show them how it’s done girl. and maybe call Salaam and BRD and see if you can’t convince them to play hooky from their governments as well. why not. world’s ending in three days you guys. “sorry, I’m busy this weekend” ain’t gonna cut it lol

so while I am not fully caught up with Vigilantes, I have read far enough to know that there’s an American hero named Captain Celebrity whose superpower from what I recall is being a humongous douchebag. and while I haven’t read far enough to know what happens to this guy, I can’t say I’m very disappointed to learn that he’s no longer the number one hero in the U.S. (actually, didn’t they kick him out and that’s why he moved to Japan to begin with?). anyway, so my thanks to Horikoshi for having a marginally higher opinion of Americans than Furuhashi, even though we have definitely not done anything to warrant said opinion lately, and you may have inadvertently opened the door to a pandora’s box of discourse lmao

(ETA: lol I went into the tags and they don’t disappoint. “why is she dressed like a flag” because she’s an homage to Captain America and Major Victory and literally every other character on this list. again, I apologize for fictional American superheroes being Like This. “oh boy another thicc waifu to make the fanboys happy” look, tumblr fandom never seems to have a problem thirsting over Dabi or Tomura or Aizawa or Nao, lol, I’m just saying. “where is Captain Celebrity” idk, probably murdered by the exploding bee cartel, let’s just be grateful for our good fortune and try not to Beetlejuice the man.)

anyway, so let’s see if Horikoshi’s recent character development with regards to making Mineta not terrible anymore will apply to other aspects of his writing as well. I know I was making light of discourse just now, but I do think the complaints about him introducing yet another new character at the 11th hour to be cannon fodder in the final battle are absolutely valid. and again, it wouldn’t be a problem if he didn’t keep maiming/killing off his female characters one by one instead of developing them and letting them kick ass long-term. but that said, I will never complain about Horikoshi adding another female character to the series, regardless of how clumsy the attempt may be. go ahead and pander away, just give us more girl power lol

anyway so we’ll see how it goes, but I think I’m gonna be optimistic and let myself hope once again, even though I’m probably gonna regret it lol. it is what it is. she is standing on an airplane just chilling for fuck’s sake. I’m only human. anyway fingers crossed

[rendiggitydog]

The gang’s all here!

"Welcome every-hermit! To the annual Partner Problem event! This is our first year getting everyone to play, so welcome!" X smiled as the crowd of hermits below him cheered. "I'll explain the rules for the newbies."

"I will draw two names out of a helmet. Those two people will be fitted with curse of binding boots, which magically link the pair. These boots will force you to stay within 3 meters, or 10 feet, of each other. You will wear the boots for 24 hours, and then the spell will dissolve. Make sense?"

Heads bobbed in agreement.

"Then let's begin!" X picked up the helmet at his feet, shuffling the papers inside. "Zedaph..."

Zed jumped, excitedly looking around for who his partner might be.

"...and Welsknight!"

There were assorted congratulations as Wels and Zed found each other, grinning excitedly.

"Alright, quiet down! Next up: Tango and Iskall!"

Laugher and groans. The two pranksters high-fived, already whispering mischievously.

"Stress and Grian! False and Jevin! Scar and Python!" X rattled off the names, each greeted with excitement. "Me and Cub! Cleo and Mumbo! Impulse and Joe! Docm and biffa! Rendog and TFC! And that's everyone! Line up to get your boots, and thanks for coming out!" X glided down from his make-shift pedestal, throwing open a chest full of glowing leather boots.

The hermits filed through with their partners, pulling on their new boots and testing the limits. Slowly, the plateau emptied, everyone heading their ways for the day.

—

"Work with me here, love!" Stress laughed, trying to pull Grian away from the store window.

"Sorry! They made a new tnt, and this one is player-friendly!" Grian hopped up, beaming as he returned to Stress' side.

"We can check it out after I return Impulse's backup elytra he let me borrow. It's been a couple weeks and I need to return them!"

"What ho, and salutations!" Joe waved as he and Impulse appeared over the ridge.

"Hi Joe! Impulse! How are you doing?"

"Really well! We're taking turns picking the pass time, so it's been fine."

"We were just on our way to Impulse's home behind the sea foam." Joe gestured in the direction of Impulse's bay area.

"How delightful! Well, I just wanted to return your elytra I borrowed. Thanks again!" Stress handed over the wings, which Impulse accepted gratefully.

"I was wondering where I left those, thanks!"

"Okay, can we go look at the tnt now?" Grian shifted back and forth, glancing back at the tnt.

"Fine. As long as we can go ice mining later for my castle." Stress threw a humorous look at Joe and Impulse as Grian rushed back to the storefront. "Bye!"

"Those two must be having a ball." Joe remarked as he and Impulse calmly continued their stroll.

—

"So this is the vault, huh?" Ren gaped as TFC led him down.

"Sure is."

"Wow... It's so big..."

"Thanks, I've put a lot of time into it."

"Tin, how did you find the time to do all this?" Ren peeked through a door, taking everything in.

"I've just cracked down and worked hard, that's all." TFC pulled some stone out of a chest without slowing his walk, heading for the next room he needed to finish.

"Woah, that was slick! You didn't even stop walking, you just grabbed that stone, like Whoosh!" Ren exclaimed, swooping his hand through the air.

"Oh, you know it. This way."

The large vault narrowed to a corridor, which the two squeezed through, reaching a decent-sized room, half excavated. Tin set right to work, mining at the wall with one hand and picking up the stone with the other. The older man relaxed in his element, killing a zombie without hesitation when it crept up on him. Ren simply watched in awe at the grace. He was startled out of his trance, however, when TFC tugged on their binding boots.

"I gotta put some stuff away, come on."

Ren followed slowly. "That was crazy. Like, you were just mining, but it was like a dance! Does that make sense? We don't need to go to my base later, we can just stay here for all 24 hours! Can I help?"

Tin rubbed his temples as he tossed the last of the stone in a chest. "You can have the most important job of all."

Ren perked up. "The most important?!"

"Hold these." Tin shoved a bunch of shulker boxes into his arms.

TFC set back to work, tossing the stone into the boxes as he went. Ren didn't mind holding the stone- he was just glad to be part of the process.

"This is fantastic! Why don't we hang out more often? You're so cool Tin!" Ren babbled on in excitement over the menial labor.

"Hey Ren-" TFC quickly cut in. "If you don't talk, I'll do something cool."

Ren gasped loudly, and sealed his lips. Tin shook his head, silently laughing as he dual-wielded a second pickaxe, blowing Ren's mind.

—

Well hullo!" Cleo and Mumbo waved as they approached Scar and Python. The two were sitting in the grass outside Scar's terraforming shop, flower crowns and necklaces all around them.

"Heya! How are you two?" Scar greeted as Mumbo and Cleo sat next to them.

"Pretty good! Neither of us had a whole lot to do, so we're visiting everyone else. What are you doing?" Cleo picked at the grass.

"We've been making flower chains! Wanna learn how?" Python displayed the chain he was currently working on.

"Absolutely!"

The four hermits soaked up the sun as they weaved flower crowns, half-asleep from its warmth and sweet aroma. At some point, False and Jevin stumbled by, tears of laughter streaming down their faces.

"How's it going?" Scar giggled, already knowing the answer.

"Could be better-" False wheezed, wiping her tears. "May we-?"

Jevin and False tripped over each other and collapsed in a pile of giggles. The group talked and laughed for hours, while the sun slowly fell. The stars twinkled into sight, and they fell asleep stargazing.

—

"Alright," Tango breathed. Iskall nodded, and they slowly dipped their wings in sync. After practicing all day, they were finally coordinated enough to cause some mischief.

Two glowing dots walked the grounds outside the newest ConCorp studio- two hermits holding torches in the night.

"Cub and X?" Iskall whispered into the dark. Tango nodded, pulling out a stack of eggs.

"Ready... GO!"

Cackling loudly, Iskall and Tango pelted the ground with eggs, watching X and Cub dance away from them. One figure glanced up, spotting the pair in the air, and shook their fist dramatically.

"You're not even Poultry man!" X's voice called after them, but they were already flying away.

"Fan-frickin-tastic!" Iskall howled.

"They thought we were poultry man!" Tango slapped his leg. The wild excitement distracted him, and Tango wobbled before plummeting to the earth.

"Gah!!" Iskall spammed rockets, desperate to stay in the air. However, Tango's limp body dragged him down, and the two splashed into the water violently. The sounds of drowneds instantly lit a fire under them, and they paddled tiredly to the shore.

"Hehe, worth it." Iskall wiped his hair from his face, sand getting everywhere.

Tango panted as he collapsed on the sand. "Absolutely."

—

"Huzzah!" Zedaph triumphantly held up the blue parrot. He and Wels had been searching the jungle for hours, and this was the first bird they found. They were tired and bruised, but it was worth it.

"Did you hear that?" Wels whispered.

Zed rolled his eyes. "For the last time, Wels, it was probably an ocelot. We can sail home if you'd feel better about it?"

"Yes please!" Wels sighed in relief as they made their way to the shore. The rustle of leaves behind them made Wels jump again. "Let's go." He glanced over his shoulder as he pulled out a boat.

"SNEAK ATTACK!" Doc and Biffa lunged from the bushes, diamond swords drawn. Their armor and faces were coated with mud and leaves, their binding boots streaked with war paint. Somebody screeched (cough Zedaph) and everything happened all at once.

Suddenly, the attack was over as soon as it started. Biffa ran too far ahead of Doc, and the two tumbled into the sand at Zed's feet.

Doc looked up bashfully, his helmet falling from his head. "Fancy meeting you here.."

Zed blinked. "...Well now I don't think this is a coincidence, us meeting in the jungle like this, you crying Sneak Attack!! But okay!" Zed laughed, releasing his tension.

"I suppose our mission was a failure, then?" Biffa sighed with a grin.

"I suppose so- but you did scare Wels pretty well!" Zed patted Wels on the head, as he had fallen over in his freight.

"I told you so!!"

[katbird787]

At Last (part 7)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warning: Nightmares, Anxiety, Vague mentions of torture

Summary: Reader was captured by HYDRA until The Avengers come to her rescue

Word Count: ~1700

A/N: Sorry this took so long to get out, I have been sick as a dog for two weeks with zero motivation/inspiration to write, but I’m finally feeling better! Huzzah!

Part 6

Slamming the door behind me I collapse against it completely spent. Fatigue and exhaustion seeps into my mind and body.  Stumbling to my bed I crawl into it, tears pricking my eyes as the events of the past months finally catch up me.  How is it that I am finally out of that hellhole, but still seem to be trapped? What was it that actually happened to me?  How can I move past this? Why me?  

These thoughts consume me as sleep claims me.

No. No!  I don't know!

Please stop!  I beg.

Another blow.

More questions I can't answer.

Pain.

Tears.

I shoot up in bed, gasping. Wiping my face.  Feeling tears. Eyes darting around the room. Ok. I'm not there anymore.  But not safe. Right? I don't know anymore.  

Looking at the clock I see it's not even 4am.  Resigning myself to being awake, I swing my leg over the side of the bed and make my way to the bathroom.  Turning on the lights, I am taken aback by what I see in the mirror.  Dark circles under my eyes. Bruises turning nasty shades of purple, yellow, and black. A testament to my time spent with HYDRA. Closing my eyes against the sight, I splash some water on my face hoping to drive away the nightmare.

Walking back into the bedroom I take in the disheveled sheets and realize I won't be getting any more sleep tonight. I decide to head to common room to get a drink and maybe a snack. Grabbing one of the oversized sweaters the girls left for me and pulling it on, I head for the elevator. It arrives and I press the button for the correct floor, still trapped in thoughts of my nightmare. The arrival bell is still jarringly loud, but I don't startle as I did earlier this evening.  Distractedly I head for the kitchen area, grabbing a bottle of scotch on the way. After pouring myself a generous helping, I take a drink, hoping to calm my nerves. It's then that I hear a throat being cleared.

Buckys POV

The elevator dings, heralding an arrival.  I have been enjoying the peace and solitude of the early morning hours, as I usually do, so the addition of another person is somewhat irritating.  That is until I see who comes down through the door.  I feel like an idiot, she caught my eye at dinner and I was so lost in my thoughts that I am still not sure what my expression was.  Whatever it was caused her to retreat so fast, that I didn't have a chance to remedy the situation. But here I am tucked away in the corner, shadows cascading over me as she walks in.  Her hair is messy with sleep; she has a sweater wrapped around her as if it were armor; bruises on her face casting light on our harsh reality; her eyes, however, give me pause.  They have that haunted, empty look, that I notice in my own upon awakening from a nightmare. She nearly slinks into the kitchen and pours herself a drink; scotch, never would have pictured her as a scotch drinker.  I roll my eyes at myself; idiot, you have only known her for about 10 hours.

Clearing my mind and, unconsciously, my throat her head whips around searching for the source of the sound.

Y/n POV

My head whips around toward the sound, eyes wide, slowly backing myself against the counter, shrinking, bracing for an attack. And then James stands up, from his place in the shadows. A sharp exhale escapes me, relief harsh within my body.  Casting my eyes back to the drink in my hands, I miss the pain that flashes across his face.

"I'm sorry. About earlier," he offers.  "I was caught up in my own thoughts. It's not an excuse, but it's the truth."

Wrenching my eyes toward his, I see his brows pulled together in sincerity, yet still staying in the far corner he had be sitting in when I arrived. Pulling my lips between my teeth, I nod. Knowing how captivating the mind can be.

He slowly walks toward me, hands held out in a peaceful gesture. I park myself on one of the bar stools and James slides into the one next to mine.

"Nightmare?" He asks.

Bringing the glass to my lips I take a long pull before nodding. Glad that I didn't add ice as it would have given away the tremble of my hands.

Slowly shaking his head in acknowledgment "Yea, me too" he trails off.

His admission startles me and I turn to look at him.  His hair is loose and messy, the dim lights casting shadows along his sharp jaw. He turns toward me and I can feel the blush rising to my cheeks, as I'm caught starting.  But his lips quirk up in a small smile, one I try to return, successfully I believe. He stands and I think he's going to leave, a pang of disappointment shoots through me, instead he walks around to refill my drink and pour one of his own. Leaning against the bar he takes a sip, looking at me.

"Do you want to watch TV? It helps take your mind off it" he invites as he pushes off and goes to sit on one of the couches grabbing the remote before plopping down on the cushion.

Slowing standing from my stool, I make my way over to the living area. I fold myself into the far corner of the couch as James decides what to watch.

Two episodes later and a smile has etched itself on my face. He was right; it's a good distraction. Suddenly he stands up and makes to leave.  Catching his eyes I furrow my brows and tilt my head in confusion.

"Oh. Steve will be waking up about now, and he asks too many questions if he isn't the first one here in the morning" he grins conspiratorially as he heads for the elevator.

Figuring I'm probably safe from said inquisition I go to brew a pot of coffee. If I'm to appear at and hopefully not participate in a mission debriefing, I will need caffeine.

Sure enough, before the coffee had finished, Steve shuffles into the kitchen. All messy haired and bleary eyed. He does a double take when he sees someone else is awake.

"Oh hi" he mumbles, still not fully awake.  I pour two cups and offer him one as I go to sit at the table. He wanders to the table, sits down, and opens the newspaper, seemingly having come from nowhere. Separating his preferred section, he slides the rest to me.  

So as to have something to do with my hands I pull out a section and go to read it, when something catches my eye. April. I went running in December. Before Christmas.  Four months. Pushing the paper away in a huff, I stand. Abandoning my coffee, I run for the elevator and the sanctuary of my room, leaving Steve sitting at the table, staring after me, cup stalled half way to his mouth.

Bursting into my apartment, throwing the door closed behind me I immediately start pacing.  

4 months.

Four.

I missed Christmas.

I missed New Years.

Panic snakes its way into my throat, carding my fingers through my hair I practically stumble onto the balcony. The city is waking up. Car horns, sirens, the hushed conversation from the pedestrians below.  In a way, being up here above all of that chaos calms my mind and soothes my soul. A few more minutes of calming breaths, and I feel the panic slowly start to recede.  I take a seat on a chair and just let the cool morning breeze caress my frazzled nerves.

Buckys POV

Upon returning to my room, I do the dishes that are in the sink, straighten up the living room and then head into my bedroom.  This is my least favorite part of the morning.  As if I need another reminder of how my night went, I take in the disheveled bed.  Quilt and top sheet are on the floor at the foot of the bed. Only one pillow remains and the bottom sheet is pulled up at two of the corners.  Sighing the memories of the previous night away, I go to make the bed, opting to just change the sheets as they were mostly up anyways. On nights when I sleep through the night, the bed is mostly intact.  But nights like this past one?  The proof is always in the sheets.

Figuring enough time has passed, I make my way back to the common area for the morning.  Walking in I see Steve's eyes dart to the door from his place at the table, looking disappointed that it was me.  Pouring myself a cup of coffee, I go sit at the table to pick up the paper, her presence notably absent.

"Did you happen to pass Y/n on your way up?" He asks suddenly.

Nearly choking on my coffee from the question, as though he knew I was thinking about her. Spluttering I manage to gasp, "No, I didn't see anyone."

"Oh. Ok" he mumbled looking down to the paper.  

A few moments of silence pass, before I have to address it "Steve, what's wrong?  You aren't your usual annoyingly chipper self"

Steve sighs before taking a sip of his coffee. "She was here making coffee when I came in." He starts. "We sat here and she picked up the newspaper, looked at it for a few minutes, before running off" he finishes.

Bring my cup to my lips, I glance over the paper, trying to figure out what had startled her, and then it hit me. "The date" I breathe out.

"What..." Steve says, before recognition and pain flashes across his eyes.  He understands what it's like to lose large portions of time. "God damn it. I didn't even think…" he muttered more to himself.

Resting my hand on his shoulder I give him a tight-lipped smile. I know that won't help ease his conscience, but he needs to know it wasn't his fault.

We sit in silence as the rest of the team slowly filters in for breakfast.

Part 8   “At Last” Masterlist

Masterlist

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

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Justice and Injustice in The Big City -- Part One

 (NB: This article was based on interviews with attorneys, court employees, police officers, defendants, and personal observations by this reporter in actual courtrooms.)

You probably watch “Law & Order.” Most people do. There you get to see the justice system chugging along like a sausage factory. The police think someone has committed a crime. A detective digs through the facts, interviews witnesses, and examines all of the evidence before going to a prosecutor to seek an indictment. The accused is brought before a judge in person to be charged in a wood-paneled courtroom, a defense attorney protests their innocence, the prosecutor must show what they have to indict, and if the judge thinks it’s more likely than not that a crime has been committed the defendant is charged, and a reasonable bail is usually set. The bail is paid, and the defendant is able to return to their life and assist in their defense. Their attorney has the resources to investigate the alleged crime, find exculpatory evidence, and go to trial. A trial eventually happens, all of the facts are put before a judge and jury, and if they are innocent, they will walk away full of puppies and rainbows – because the system worked. You turn off the tv basking in the glow of the American Justice System. All is right – or white – with the world, and you’ll sleep soundly knowing that the rule of law works for everyone.

That is a terrible lie. You’ve been suckered. That’s not what happens. It’s a fantasy. Let’s use the example of my hometown – Philadelphia.

So, the police hear that you’ve committed a crime. Maybe someone called in a tip. Maybe your neighbor was mad at you and wanted to get even. Maybe your girlfriend is mad at you. Maybe the police were simply bored and needed to look good to their commanding officer. They don’t investigate it. Based solely on a statement against you they go to the Charging Unit of the District Attorney’s Office and ask for a arrest warrant. They usually always get one. It’s a rubber stamp.

Handcuffs and a car (houstondwiPhotos mp FLIKR CC)

You’re arrested. You get put into a van and taken to a police station. You are scared. Nobody tells you what’s happening. Your things are taken from you. You’re photographed and fingerprints are taken. You may get an invasive body search. You’re led to a cell. If you’re lucky you get a few cheese sandwiches (one slice of processed cheese and two slices of bread) and water. You’ll have to ask (beg) for toilet paper. The cell will be filthy, the sink and toilet a horror show, and you’ll sleep on a hard metal bench with no pillow or blanket. There are cockroaches. There are rats. If it’s night time, the lights will remain on and it will be impossible to sleep. One person told me of police who enjoyed keeping a radio blasting gospel music all night at the cells because “Y’all need Jesus in your life.” Jesus is nowhere to be found. If you called The Hague you’d have a good case for a crimes against humanity charge.

Exhausted, you will suddenly be taken to a room with a monitor. You’ll be arraigned via closed-circuit television. No wood-paneled courtroom. No attorney by your side. In fact, you haven’t spoken to an attorney yet. You can’t utter a word during this arraignment. You begin to pray. You might cry. If you’re lucky you’ll get bail.

I hope you thought to bring change. If you did, you get one phone call to get someone to pay your bail. Do you remember their phone number? It may be late, and no one will answer. Too bad. It sucks to be you. If you get someone who can pay your bail, they have to travel to the bail payment window in a far away building to do so. Then you wait for the system to grind along before you’re released. The police won’t call anyone for you. Your partner is probably freaking out and has no idea where you are.

Huzzah! You got someone to pay your bail and you’re released! You get your things back. Never mind the money that’s missing from your wallet and the fancy watch that’s not on your property sheet, you’re free to go.

How will you get home? You’re in a strange neighborhood late at night. How will you explain it to your boss if your missed work? How will you afford an attorney? You probably can’t, so you’re assigned a public defender.

You get home. You are shaking. “How did this happen to me? I didn’t do it!” you’re asking yourself. You look at the paperwork and see that you’re expected to go to the Public Defender’s Office to discuss your case. You and your wife argue. Your children cry. The whole neighborhood knows by now that you’ve been arrested. They stare.

You lose another day from work to go speak to the public defender (do you still have a job?). You wait for your name to be called. You have about ten minutes to tell the harried public defender your tale of woe. They ask questions as if they assume you’re guilty. You can’t believe this is happening to you.

They suggest a deal right off the bat. They don’t have the time or resources to investigate every crime, and just want to clear their desk for more serious cases. They’ll urge in very strong terms to take a deal. In fact, 63% of cases in one year in Philadelphia ended in defendants taking plea deals. If every case went to trial, the system would collapse, and the system knows it. Forget your right to a trial and to confront witnesses against you. Take the deal, they urge.

But you didn’t do it! The public defender will not-so-patiently explain that innocence is not a defense. The deck is stacked against you. Take the deal.

You refuse, because you don’t want to be a convicted criminal. You’ll never find a good job or place to live with a criminal record.

Exasperated, the public defender prepares for a trial. During your first hearing weeks later (more lost work), the District Attorney calls their witness against you. They aren’t there. The case is continued for another month or so.

During the second hearing, the witness still doesn’t appear. It’s continued again. If you some much as look at anyone in the courtroom you are yelled at. You’ve been arrested – you must have done something.

Finally, at the third hearing, the witness shows up. But the ADA needs to collect more evidence. Another date is set. More missed work. More stress. More relationships under enormous pressure. Have you been evicted yet? At this point they’ve offered a deal more than once – they may even have lowered the charges to sweeten the pot. Your public defender begins to pressure you to take it. You still refuse – but you’re tempted because you just want it to end. All you have to do is sign this paper and it will all be over. You’ll probably argue that you didn’t do it.

It. Doesn’t. Matter. Your public defender gets angry but tells the ADA and the court you want a trial.

Courtroom Karen Neoh – Flikr CC

Fast forward a few months. The date is finally here, you’re going to trial! For the sake of brevity, let’s assume that you’re going with a bench trial – where a judge and not a jury decides your fate – because your public defender knows that this particular judge is fair. Many aren’t. Many have no criminal trial experience before running for judge (yes, ours are elected). You’re in luck because this judge was a criminal defense attorney and actually knows the law. Fingers crossed!

But wait. Your subpoena said you had to be there at 9:00 am. Where is everyone? If you were late you’d be in contempt of court, your bail could be revoked, and you’d in a lot of trouble. So you, your lawyer, the ADA, the police witnesses, the state’s witnesses, and a gaggle of court employees sit and wait. And wait. And wait.

Finally at 11:00 am the judge finally wanders in. They chat up the clerks. Two hours you’ve waited. An no one dares say a word of complaint to the judge. I asked dozens of attorneys to talk about this on the record. They were all afraid to – for fear of never being able to try a case and win again. But I did find one criminal defense attorney, Zac Shaffer, to explain the dire impact on these delays on defendants and the police:

“Consistent start times help defendants, witnesses and police officers. Defendants and witnesses may have a job to run back to. Many of these people are living paycheck to paycheck. An entire day off of work might mean a missed rent check or a utility turned off. Shaffer continued, “I have personally seen alibi witnesses with a  9:00AM subpoena leave court before testifying because they cannot miss a whole day of work and their case wasn’t even statused, let alone     started, until 11:00AM when the judge takes the bench. Oftentimes last out officers are in court after finishing a shift that started at midnight just to find out they are not needed for court at 10:30AM or 11:00AM. An earlier start time lets them leave to rest up for the next shift. Their job requires split second decision making where being rested can mean the difference between life and death.”

After waiting for hours, you have your trial. If you’re lucky, your public defender has prepped for the case. They may have spent an entire hour on it. Did I mention that because of the rotation system that this is your third/fourth/fifth public defender, and that they probably forgot what you even look like? Before the trial they’ll pressure you again to take the damned deal. You argue. This is the person who’s supposed to zealously defend you and they’re mad at you for making their life harder.

The trial goes on. It’s obvious that the police have been coached. I’ve seen this with my own eyes, as ADA’s hand the case file to them before the trial to “refresh their recollection.” They even have a tiny special room for this purpose. Their testimony sounds like a script – because it is. Shocker: the police are trained to lie. They do it every day.

After everyone’s testified and been cross-examined, and evidence presented, the state rests. It’s in the hands of the judge. You start praying.

Court Gavel (wp paarz – FLIKR CC)

You’re stunned. You heard “Not Guilty on All Counts.” You’re free to go. You shake hands with your lawyer and wander out into the sunlight. You might cry in the hallway on the way there.

You’re free!

No apology. No help getting home. No one will even acknowledge you. Your reputation is destroyed and there’s no one you can sue. No place to get your good name back.

You go home. A month later your bail check finally arrives. For one last insult, the court keeps 1/3 of your bail monies for “processing.”

You file the papers to expunge your record. If you’re lucky, the DA’s Office won’t fight it. This process takes months. Meanwhile, your record is still there for every employer to see – and good luck getting a job.

Your life destroyed and you have nowhere to turn for help.

Ok. You’re probably white and wondering how this applies to you. You think anyone who’s been arrested probably did something, and deserves to go to jail. You’ve never committed a crime. Or so you say.

Have you ever added up your checking account wrong and bounced a check? Have you ever forgotten to pay a parking ticket? Have you ever argued with your wife? Have you left home without your wallet and don’t have identification when you blow through a red light? Has someone ever stolen your identity? Can you prove you were home at 9:24 pm three months ago when your neighbor claims you stole their snowblower after the argument you just had over their dog?

Then congratulations! You’re going to jail!

Start carrying quarters. You’re going to need them.

(Part Two of this series, publishes on Feb 27th at 4pm, will be about the office that’s trying to put you away: the prosecutor. You won’t believe it until you read it.)

          Justice and Injustice in The Big City — Part One was originally published on NH LABOR NEWS