#sorry for my delay in responding to this I fell asleep while writing the answer and it got lost in the drafts… typical

[bleue-flora]

thinking about cdream and autism, do you think his habit of jumping and pacing around while talking are him stimming? I do that too so Im wondering if it could be something like that for cdream?

I also wonder how the rest of the server would react if they discovered cdream's autistic. I think some characthers like ctechno would be like "that was obvious" other would dont give a shit bc they hate him and other would like "this explains some stuff actually".

Im sorry but now i find the idea of cdream finally being put into a trial and ctechno and cpunz and maybe cranboo being his lawyers and defending him like "Your honor, my client it's literally neurodivergent and also a homeless lonely woof, and a 3yr baby" to the rest of the server. I find that idea funny idk why like cdream and his defense fighting bc like "omggg techno im not homeless and we have the same age!" "dude dont break characther, we're trying to save you!!" ranboo is just wondering what went wrong to get to this and punz is planing on stabbing the wilbur judge bc "who put that man in charge?!?"

-Cleo

Oh for sure, I’ve actually talked about it in my essays about c!dream being autistic [post] and later in a discussion on adhd [post]. I think since it’s not like we can see c!Dream fidget as a Minecraft character the best representation we can get is him bouncing around. :)

How would the rest of the server react?… hm I’m not sure… would they care? Would it matter to them? It’s hard to know, when you have a group of people who will throw someone in prison or watch him lose his last life, it’s hard for me to think they’d give a damn. I just don’t know, I’ve only ever told friends and family and some others who I figured would give a positive response, never to like an enemy. And usually I would do in advance so people have context before I do something they dislike, not during or after (something I think cc!dream might have screwed up on - though to be fair he did make a comment in a podcast so…) as it then doesn’t feel like I’m trying to use it to excuse my behavior. In other words, I think when, as in at what point in the story, people found out he is autistic, makes a difference. If for example they only found out later around the time of Doomsday I don’t think it would change many of their perceptions of him. If they had it before a lot of the conflict began then that might be different. Like for example, would people allow Wilbur to target him if they knew, hard to say but it would be interesting. It also matters how they find out and how much they know. For example, I tell people about what it’s like for me, so that I can then ask them to give me some grace when I need it and give me a chance to explain my side if need be. I tell them so I can then ask something of them, so the question is would Dream tell them in an effort to ask for their grace. Or would he just tell them and then just assume they would give him the benefit of the doubt. Because it’s also important for him to communicate what’s going on, if there is a disconnect happening because of autism like - me getting upset because I’ve gotten too overstimulated by the bright lights or clock ticking, then I need to tell people that’s why I’m losing it not because of anything they’ve done. Assumptions are communication’s biggest enemy or more commonly phrased, “Assumptions are the enemy of true understanding” or as George Bernard Shaw says, “The single biggest problem in communication is the illusion that it has taken place.”

Knowing of autistic diagnosis is step one, step two is communicating that and what it means. Now that you and the other are aware you’re speaking a different language you need to do the translation. To continue an analogy I did earlier, not that you realize you are talking about an American jumper and the other person is talking about a British jumper, it’s time to take the time to explain what an American jumper is and learn what a British jumper is so than you are on the same page.

This would be the same for c!Dream. The best way for his diagnosis to mean anything but people treating him demeaningly (which doe happen) is for him to communicate. But both parties have to be willing to listen and understand where eachother are coming from. The autistic person has to put aside their logic to realize that that isn’t always how other people think, and the non-autistic person has to put aside their emotions and feelings of the situation to here the other person out. (This btw is the problem with the conversation with Tubbo and Dream, Tubbo was not willing to hear Dream out or change his mind. And if that’s the case discussion is unproductive because the person isn’t willing to hear you out and possible change their mind or perspective).

In other words, there are basically four outcomes from c!Dream telling people depending on when he does 1) the disregard it as an excuse that he’s using to justify his actions 2) they take the opposite approach and baby him (I think this happens I wouldn’t know it’s not been my experience) 3) it makes no difference in their opinion one way or another or 4) it provides the scaffolding for a bridge of understanding that for the members willing to form that bridge are able to better community and understand c!Dream. But again this only happens if it’s caught, highlighted and both sides are willing to talk it out. Though diagnosis is also useful in the real world, because now that you know you speak a different language, you can start to learn the other one to understand them better. Because then you can be aware of what’s happening and better adapt. And these skills can come from experience, books, therapy, videos and stuff that can help you become aware of how non-autistic brains work to better communicate with them… anyways I’ve strayed from the point haven’t I, oops…

[purecantarella]

Kiss Me

request : I don’t know if your still taking requests , could you write , Jennie who has always been scared to be in a relationship but then meets female reader and tries to tell her how she feels 💋 i definitely am taking requests and this came around a year ago as well but i've had in in my drafts for so long that it's time to start it!! i hope you all enjoy!! kim jennie x reader disclaimer/s : some angsty fluff for your reading pleasure, of course some cursing, i'm sorry. also slight nsfw ?

It was no secret that as an idol, she had eyes hot on her all the time. Jennie's public image needed to be spotless. She needed to be the sweetheart in the media's eyes. She had to fit into the standard even if she loathed it.

She had no room for error or to indulge anything that didn't fit her idol image...then you happened.

It was all a happy coincidence when you met. Jennie had been traveling often, and it was emotionally and mentally draining to her. It had been one flight after another and by the time she was on her returning trip to Seoul, she was always falling asleep.

Coffee, candy, and blasting loud music were doing nothing for her so her only hope was to get to her gate early and take a short nap there. That was until her flight got delayed another four hours. Jennie knew it was far too risky to haul out at a hotel, so she was shackled to the airport seats.

She kept herself awake as best she could but couldn't stop her eyes from drooping, the nearly empty coffee cup tipping dangerously in her hand. "Might be good to spill the coffee in your mouth rather than the carpet of an airport waiting area, ma'am."

The intruding voice made Jennie squeak and jump awake. You smile at her amused with yourself. She grit her teeth but still smiled at you, holding back the snarl that threatened to break the surface. She couldn't risk you being a gossip reporter and talk about her in the tabloids or on your site.

"I'm sorry, didn't mean to anger you." She is initially shocked that you see past her usual idol persona, again you see the quick shift of her emotions. "I'm a photographer, not that you were asking, but that's how I could tell your emotions. It's part of my job to read into the subject's emotions and adjust them accordingly."

You point to the empty seat beside her, and in spite of her better judgement, Jennie nodded. You place your bag down beside hers and stretch your neck out. Noticing how the woman beside you was still drifting off into sleep, you offer, "I can watch your bags and you can get some rest if you'd like."

She turns to you, looking rather offended and you couldn't help the chuckle that fell past your lips. You raise your hands in defeat. "I get it, some stranger approaching you asking you to sleep." You pause and fully turn to look at her. "Then I'll keep you company."

The rapper quirks a brow at your bold behavior, she couldn't tell if she found it appealing how confident you were or if she was disdained that you just sat beside her and planned to probe into her life. Then again, it was better than falling asleep and getting taken advantage of.

"Alright." She responded curtly.

Your smile brightens, "So what brought you here? To the country I mean?" Jennie laughs to herself, you tilt your head to the side as you patiently waited for her answer. "What haven't I done while I was here. Photoshoots, public appearances, filming at one point." She is shocked with herself but quickly regains her composure. "It's nothing though. It was for my fans anyway."

You chuckle softly, "I didn't ask what your work was here. I know who you are, superstar." Jennie opened her mouth to protest the newly given nickname but you cut her off. "I asked what brought you here. There must've been a dozen people asking you to come to events or shoots...why here?"

Jennie is speechless for a moment but can't help the laugh that erupts from her chest. "I guess I never thought about it. My management, I guess?"

"Not much freedom then I take it?" You ask quietly. Jennie takes off her shades and exposes her eyes to you. She notices how your shoulders raise a little and your breath hitches a little. She thought it was rather cute. "Not as much as I'd like, no."

"That's a real shame, wasting all that potential and talent being placed in a box." You lean in close and whisper, "You all deserve better if you ask me."

Again, Jennie laughs, "You're a fan then?"

"It's hard not to be." You say seriously, making Jennie's smile grow wider, her cheeks becoming sore from the sheer act of smiling as wide as she was. "Good to know..."

The two of you talked through the four hours, time flying by and before Jennie knew it, she wasn't even sleepy anymore. All she wanted to do was listen to your terrible jokes and your work. It was weird, she could have run into you at any point during her trip, but it had almost been serendipitous that you both met then and there.

As you told her a story of one of your problem clients on your trip, the PA System blared to life and announced your flight was boarding in five minutes. You looked down at your watch, picking up your bag and shuffle around for your passport and boarding pass.

"Thank you." Jennie said hastily, trying to get your attention again. "I...I enjoyed talking to you."

You look down at her lifting your hand up to offer her a thumbs up. "It was a pleasure to speak to you. I'm glad I got you to stay awake while waiting." Jennie smiles at you and looked down to grab her phone to ask for your number but when she looks up, you were gone.

As she sat comfortably in her compartment, Jennie couldn't shake the thought of you. Tentatively looking around to see if you were anywhere and to her disappointment, you were no where to be found. The rapper was about to pluck her airpods out of her bag when a flight attendant approached her.

"From a passenger up front, Miss Kim..." The flight attendant whispered quietly, slipping Jennie a pack of gum and a handwritten note. She bowed to the stewardess with a smile before she skimmed over the note.

Jennie stifles a giggle as she reads the messily written note on a tissue from the coffee you were holding earlier. 'Didn't get my name or number? Here ya go! Chew the gum so your ears don't pop. G'night superstar. - Y/F/N'

She looks around again and spots you staring at her from one of the seats further in the front. You offer her a salute before settling into your seat. Jennie rubs your name in the ink, thinking of you fondly and brainstorming ways to see you again when you both land in Seoul.

Soon after you two landed, she contacted you, practically bouncing off the car walls as you teased her about her eagerness to call you. Jennie verbally complained but she didn't exactly deny it either.

It didn't take long for you two to get close either.

You two had become practically inseparable in that time, being seen together and posting about one another on your social media pages. But of course, you two were just friends. At least thats what you both always said but it never felt that way.

In spite of that conclusion you both had, the people around you often disagreed. Whenever Jennie would stop by to drop off food at one of your shoots or if you came by the dorm to hang out, at least one person would point out that you two seemed like a couple, and a rather cute one at that.

Though nothing became of that suspicion, until one night.

It was one of those nights when you lay on Jennie's couch while watching one of those movies that Jisoo recommended when she scooted from her corner of the couch to cuddle up to your chest. You smiled and wrapped your arm around her waist, your cheek pressed against the top of her head.

You'd been feeling it for a while now. The butterflies when you were around her, the happiness that was unparalleled when she smiled at you and only you, the instantaneous calm when you held her in your arms. But concealing it as to not ruin the friendship.

Instead of thinking of such feelings, you focus on the warmth she offers you, the flowery scent of her shampoo wafting in the air, so much so you almost miss the faint giggle that fell from her lips. As you pull away to better look at her, she props her chin on your chest, the gummy smile on display making you grin in return.

"Your heart is beating so loud, I can hear it so well." Jennie points out teasingly, making you toss your head back in a nervous yet full laugh. When you moved your head to look back at the screen, thinking that she would just brush it off like you always did, you find her staring straight at you. Her lower lip trapped between her front teeth while her hands moved up to hold your cheeks in her hands.

You freeze up, shock and awe taking over your body. You blink rapidly, assuming you were imagining it but she only drew closer with each time you opened your eyes. Finally, she is a breath away from you, you muster out, "Am I dreaming...?"

Jennie smiles down at you, her nose slotting beside yours, eyes never breaking from your gaze. You two sit there, allowing the moment to ruminate for a second, turning to a minute, turning into far too long for you to restrain yourself. Leaning forward you capture her lips between yours. Her arms snake down to wrap around your neck as your hands weave their way through her dark hair.

She opens her mouth and probes your lower lip tentatively. As you lower your jaw, her tongue meets yours shyly, wrapping the muscles around one another. As your lips found their own rhythm, your hands lock around her tresses making her groan against into your mouth.

Jennie pulls away, tugging your lower lip back. Her cat-like eyes opening slowly, as a small smile tugs at the corner of her lips. You are too stunned to speak, merely staring at her with your mouth ajar. She giggles again as she leans down to peck your lips again quickly.

You offer her a dazed and dopey smile saying, "You are amazing, superstar..."

The rapper blushes before jokingly slapping your shoulder. She gently nuzzles against your neck before returning to her spot on your chest. Only now she peppered light kisses over your neck and collarbone.

"So...what are we now, Jen...?" You ask while you play with the ends of her hair and smoothing it out right after. She doesn't speak for a moment, and you prepared yourself to press for an answer, when she replies, "I would say we're two people who are happy in each other's presence."

You nod slowly, putting the subject to rest, but the question and her rather vague answer plaguing your mind.

It'd been a couple weeks and a dozen hidden kisses after the first when disaster had struck. You and Jennie had been strolling by the Han River, the shorter woman tucked under your arm in spite of the heat. You listened as she ranted about the things her management were forcing her to do, patiently waiting for your opportunity to bring up meeting your friends.

"...and they practically tore the dress apart so that I wouldn't wear it. And it was designer too." She pouted cutely, you smile and before you can control yourself you lean down to kiss her before she blocks your mouth with her hand. "Wha-What're you doing, N/n? We're in public!"

You blink confused and chuckle nervously. "I...I just thought—"

Jennie pulls away from your embrace before taking a far step away from you. "Well you thought wrong, alright?"

You look at her, her arms crossed and her brows knit together as she glared at you, before you laugh dryly and rub your eyebrows as the frustration boiled in your chest. But you merely took a deep breath and offered her a small, but incredibly, forced smile. "Alright. I'm sorry, let me take you home, Jen."

She simply rolled her eyes and shook her head, "It's fine. I can walk myself."

You deadpan and scoff. "Sure."

As you turn a heel to walk away, you realize that this would keep drawing on without talking about it. Without figuring out what you both were definitively. "No, let's talk about this. Here and now."

You turn to face her but Jennie looks around cautiously. In a hushed voice, she argued, "Can you just stop pushing the issue, Y/n. We can talk about it another time."

You sigh in a feeble attempt to calm yourself down before raising your hand to rub the frustrated tears out of your eyes. "I'll stop pressing the issue if you answer me this." Your voice now trembled as you struggle to get out what you need to say. "What are we, Jennie? Wh-Where exactly do I fit into your life?"

The singer begins softly, "N/n, you know what we—" You laugh dryly before staring down at her, ice in your eyes.

"No, I have no idea what we are!"

"Y/n wait please! Don't make a scene." Jennie called out as she chased you down the length of the underpass. You scoff loudly and turn to look at her . "This." You motion between you and Jennie "...is exactly your problem, Jennie!" You argued loudly, but that isn't what chipped at her heart.

Jennie.

You didn't call her that. You rarely ever did.

You take another shaky breath, closing your eyes to compose your thoughts. "You can't just decide that I can fit into your narrative, Jennie." You pause to open your eyes, blinking away the water in your eyes. "And quite frankly, I'm tired of waiting for the right moment for the company."

Her eyes gloss, tears ready to pour but she merely stares blankly at you. "What're you saying, Y/n?"

"I'm saying until you can give me what I need...an answer to what this..." You motion between the two of you, "I'm done."

"Y/n wait, I can't—"

"Kiss me." You say suddenly, cutting her off and catching her off guard. Her gaze bolts around, looking for anyone who happened past and even more so those possibly hiding, waiting for her to slip up. She takes a step forward and whisper-yells at you, "I can't do that, Y/n. I need to uphold my image."

You bite back any of the hurtful things you want to say, and just nod. Your lips trembling as you walk away, offering a half-hearted wave, "Bye, superstar."

With that you stride down the path and Jennie doesn't have the strength to follow you or argue anymore. She didn't want a relationship and she didn't want to compromise her work.

It was the right thing to do. But the next week was hell.

Jennie was far more cranky, snapping at the girls and talking back more to management when she was asked to do something or appear somewhere. It was impossible for her to attend any of her schedules without at least one private meltdown.

A couple weeks after you both split ways, the girls had to appear for a photoshoot for their latest album promotional material. If it were up to Jennie she would remain hauled up in her room but she noticed how excited the other members were, so she tried to liven up.

While the girl's energies bounced off the walls of the van they were all in, Jennie's eyes were glued to her screen. Unanswered texts and radio silence from you appeared in front of her as she typed out another apology...one she'd never send.

Much like the ones she'd drafted up before.

She knew you wouldn't respond, but she held out hope that you would eventually want to talk to her again. Maybe she could set things right and you two could be friends at the very least.

Even if the sheer idea of you two remaining that way left a bitter taste in her mouth.

As the girls entered the brightly lit studio, Jennie immediately recognized the form standing in front of the white backdrop with your brows furrowed together, your camera firmly in your hand. You were too deep in thought to really notice that they'd entered.

"...Y/n..." Jennie mumbles only to be teased by the other members. Their familiar voices made you look up and of course you couldn't keep your eyes off Jennie, she looked amazing. "We'll let you two catch up!" Lisa chirped happily before skipping away with Jisoo and Chae following close behind her.

Jennie never broke eye contact with you. Your breath hitched as she slowly walked towards you. "Y/n..." Her eyes softened, she had hoped that you were there to talk to her or tell her that you missed her...something. But you offered her a respectful but tightlipped smile, bowing slightly before turning to tinkle with your equipment. Swallowing her pride, Jennie cleared her throat and asked softy, "Can...Can we talk...?"

Your back straightens, you battle internally for a moment. You missed her, so, so deeply, but she knew what you needed from her. Without that firm boundary, you would both get hurt. You sigh deeply, not daring to look her in the eye. You knew you'd cave in the moment you did.

"Unless you're ready to talk about what we are, we have nothing more to talk about, Jennie." You mutter coldly, knees trembling as you spoke.

Before Jennie could beg you any further, the production manager approached you. "Y/F/N! We've heard nothing but great things, I hope that your name lives up to the expectations we have."

You nod solemnly before excusing yourself for a moment to take a "work call" when the girls walk out ecstatic. While the other girls teased the rapper though, the eldest noticed the sinking expression on Jennie's face.

Soon, the shoot began but anyone in the room could tell that the energy was completely off. You were hardly able to give direction, only muttering quiet curses every now and again, while Jennie was unable to show off her fierce edge. Glancing over at the shots on the monitor beside you, you groan softly. You call out, "Sorry, can I get just Lisa and Chae for their unit shots. Jisoo and Jennie, take ten. Thank you."

You're looking down at your camera, doing your bet to avoid Jennie's gaze and her heart ached for you. Jisoo nudged her out of the way gently, a concerned expression falling over the older member's face.

"What is going on between the two of you?" Jisoo asks softly once they are clear from the view of the camera. The rapper's shoulders fall as she runs through what had happened that night by her fellow member. By the end of her story, Jisoo's fist gently collides with Jennie's shoulder. "Ow! What the hell, unnie?"

"Are you serious? You threw that connection away because you were what? Scared?" Jennie shakes her head, almost offended, before she pulls Jisoo close. "We have an image to uphold! Plus I don't want to be in a relation—"

"Bullshit." The rapper is taken aback by the crass language used by the older member. But the stern look on her face made her shrivel under her eyes. "If you didn't want a relationship, you would have made it clear. I know you Jen. You're ready to reject everyone who comes your way. But the way you looked at Y/n, the way you talked about her, and how you kept her around, that's telling about how you really felt."

Jisoo looks up and bares her signature smirk, "And by the looks of it, you're still the star of Y/n's eye."

Jennie follows Jisoo's eyes confused, only to see you staring at her despite your focus supposedly being on Chaeyoung and Lisa who posed in front of you. Realizing you got caught, you pretend to adjust with the settings on your camera. The rapper is unable to bite back the smile as she watched you fidget and flush under her gaze.

You always did when you two spent time together. Become a flustered mess as she stared intently at you and what you were doing.

"Whatever is going on between the two of you, it's strong. And worth fighting for..." Not waiting for Jisoo to finish her though, Jennie took a seemingly confident stride towards you, but her mind ran laps on what the possible backlash could be.

You mindlessly click away at your camera but are confused when Chae and Lisa stop posing but mostly only look at you with giddy expressions on their faces. You hear someone clearing their throat from behind you. You pull the camera away from your eye to see Jennie staring at you, fluffy cheeks growing pink.

"Jennie what—" She lifts a hand up, only lifting her gaze up to look into your eyes now. You can see the restlessness in her eyes but she presses on in spite of the fear that bubbles in her chest. "You've said more than enough, Y/n. It's my turn."

Jennie could hear the whispers and rumors fly in her head. She closed her eyes as she tried to figure out what she needed to say and began to play with the tips of her fingers when her hand was intwined with yours, your thumb brushing the back of her hand soothingly.

The rapper opened her eyes to see you staring down at her with a warm smile and the softest eyes she'd ever seen, "It's alright, I'm listening."

The look in your eyes, the genuine care and affection that overflowed, gave her the burst of confidence she needed to put her thoughts together.

"I..." She pauses again, briefly looking over at the girls who give her supportive thumbs ups. "I've never been the type to open up about my feelings or ask for help from anyone...but in the span of ten minutes of us meeting, you were able to get me to do both of those things." She chuckles at the memory, "And you had the absolute worst opening line at that, Y/n."

You smile fondly before laughing softly, nodding for her to continue. "Letting my guard down...being anything less than perfect...terrified me and I was willing to do anything to protect that reputation. But when I was with you..." She paused to lean up and nudge her nose against yours tenderly, "I didn't want to anymore."

"What're you trying to say then, superstar?" You ask, shit-eating grin etched onto your lips, the very same one you wore the first time you met. Jennie rolled her eyes but her lips tugged into the first genuine smile since you two parted ways that night. "What I'm saying is, I hope you'll take me even if I acted stupid."

You look down at her with a warm smile, "You weren't stupid Jen, you were valid. I'm sorry that I made you feel that way too..." Rather nervously, you raise your hand to brush a stray out of her face. As your hand made gentle contact with hers, Jennie immediately leaned into your touch.

"Hey N/n," She mutters making you raise a curious brow. She smiles smugly at you, twirling in place cutely. "Kiss me?"

You grin before leaning down, her lips immediately slotting together with yours. Falling into the familiar pattern that you'd long missed. You smile against her lips and hoist her closer towards your body. An array of scattered and mixed gasps falls in the studio but Jennie could no longer be bothered to care.

She pulls away, "I can't give you an answer on what we are..." You frown and begin to pull away until she pulls you by the collar of your shirt,"...but I think I'm ready to talk about it."

You bite back your smile but nod, placing another kiss on the corner of her lips. "Think I'm going to need a bit more convincing though."

Jennie rolls her eyes and wraps her arm around your neck, locking your lips together again in a heated dance until you both hear her fellow members call out a series of curses and reminders that you were in public.

She laughs against your lips before waving off her members. "They're right though, get your pretty butt back on set, superstar." You say pulling away, slapping her bottom quickly. She squeaked and skipped back to set with the brightest smile she ever sported during one of these tedious photoshoots.

"Think you made the right decision?" Jisoo teased quietly in between shots. Jennie looked up at you behind the camera, pausing to flash her a bright smile. Her heart melted at the sight before she nodded confidently.

"Y/n's exactly what I've wanted."

did this sort of come from a relatively real place? maybe. did i cry a little more than i'm willing to admit because it hit too close to home? sadly, yes thats why this took so damn long to come out HAHAHA in any case though, i hope you all enjoyed this and it made sense?? honestly, i there was a different version of the ending but while i was saving it last night, our wifi decided it hated me and deleted the last saved version, so i rewrote it today. hope yall still enjoyed though 🥹 i will see you all tomorrow for lia day but until then, keep safe my lovelies and i love you all so, so much!! see you all soon❣️ - r

[winter-soldier-vibes]

You’re not going to work (Bucky x Reader)

Bucky x reader

Word count: 1612

Summary: Bucky comes back from a long mission so excited to see you. Little does he know, you have a full schedule that day. At least, you planned to. No way is he going to wait any longer. 

Warnings: no explicit anything this is mainly just fluff. The ending hints at a few things but really, Bucky just wants cuddles. 

A/N: This is just a fun one I had an idea for. One night right before I fell asleep I was like ‘Bucky would be cute begging for cuddles’ and voila. It’s a bit of a change of pace for me but I hope you enjoy it!

A/N 2 : This is my first time writing something like this so I apologize if it’s not fantastic. 

Tags: @abitgryffindorky @buckys2thicc @buckfics @thatfangirl42 @freigeistundanderes

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Bucky nearly collapsed back into his seat on the quinjet after boarding. He might have had the serum, but that didn’t mean he was immune from exhaustion and soreness. He’d be fine by tomorrow but for right now, all he can do is lean back and close his eyes.

He was fine with going on missions. It was a part of the job, and he enjoyed helping people. Beating HYDRA’s ass was also a nice plus. He was also able to plan for it: he knew when a mission would be and approximately how long it would be. He knew what to expect. 

For the most part, mission briefings were pretty accurate. Some are overestimated.

Some are gravely underestimated. 

They expected to be home later the night they left. Bucky scoffed now at the idea of that. They had been fighting for a few days, with roughly a few hours scattered throughout to regroup. He had prepared himself to not see you for 12 hours at most. 

It had been 4 days. He was exhausted, he was sore, but more painful than that, he missed you. 

He wanted nothing more than to come back to the compound, ignore all traffic laws on the way to your shared apartment, and spend the entire day with you in his arms.

He sighed contently. He couldn’t wait. So when he arrived back and saw that you were dressed for work, his heart stuttered. 

He was meant to get back Friday night. It was now Tuesday morning, and you had a day full of meetings. 

You still had your back to him as he entered. When you heard the door close, you turned around, a smile spreading wide on your face.

“You’re back!” you said excitedly, staying in your place. You were so happy to see him, but your smile faltered slightly when you saw how worn out he looked. He smiled back at you, but you could tell the mission had been brutal on him.

Still he walked toward you and moved to hug you and you stepped back. Bucky looked like you had kicked him. 

“Sorry, I just… I have work.” you said, looking down at your white blouse. 

“Too bad,” he said, pulling you in for a hug. 

“Bucky!” you exclaimed, trying to pull back. Bucky wouldn’t budge though, and you were no match for the grip of his bear hug. He held you tightly and closed his eyes, despite your squirming.

“Bucky, please, I have to go. I’m gonna be late.”

“I don’t care. I was 4 days late coming home, you can be a day late to work,” he said.

You laughed a little, trapped in his embrace. It was a nice place to be, but not when you had a meeting starting in 30 minutes. “Bucky, I want nothing more than to stay with you, but it doesn’t work that way.”

“Doesn’t it?” he asked, pulling back to look at you while still holding you tightly. “Call in, tell them you have a personal emergency.”

“And what would that emergency be?”

“You have to take care of your sick boyfriend,” he said innocently.

You bit back a smile and a laugh. “And what’s the diagnosis?”

His eyes darted away for a second before he shook his head slightly. “Irrelevant. All I know is that you’re the cure. There’s no way to tell how sick I’ll get if you leave.”

“Ah, I see,” you said, playing along with it. He was giving you his puppy eyes. The ones you never used to be able to say no to. Damn those eyes - they could kill or get you to fold to anything. You had gotten better at standing your ground though, saying “Well, I am all yours tonight, but right now, I need to go to work,” as you finally wrestled out of his embrace.

You were used to puppy eyes, but that didn’t mean you were used to his kicked-puppy eyes. 

You sighed. 106 year old ex-assassin in full tactical gear, covered in mud and a few scrapes looked like he was about to cry because you wouldn’t call in sick to give him cuddles. It was cute, and you felt bad. But at some point you had to stand your ground.

“Please?” he asked, borderline whining but he didn’t care. All he cared about was keeping you from walking out of the door.

“Bucky I -”

“Fine,” he said, dropping the puppy eyes and walking towards you. You looked at him confused. “Bucky what are you -” you yelped in surprise as he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder. “You’ve been kidnapped. Your boss can’t blame you for missing work due to being kidnapped.” 

He brought you into your shared bedroom and sat down, positioning you so you were on his lap, his arms not allowing you to move. You down at him, sighing. “You’re not going to let me go are you?”

He shook his head giving you a slight smirk. “Not a chance doll.”

You looked at him for a few seconds and shook your head smiling a little, biting your lip slightly. He leaned forward and captured your lips in a kiss, you wrapping your arms around your neck.

“I missed you,” you breathed out.

“You have no idea,” he responded before kissing you again.

You pulled back much too soon for Bucky’s liking, and stood, saying “Let me call my boss really quick, okay?”

“Nope,” he responded, pulling you back on his lap. “You’ll call her later and apologize for the delay, and that your boyfriend was violently ill and you called at the first moment you could. But right now, we are going to go shower.”

“You can shower alone, and I’ll go call her”

“No,” he pouted.

“You are an adult Bucky,” you said, laughing slightly at his ridiculousness.

“Exactly, I’m too old to be showering alone.”

“Oh my god,” you said, breaking out in giggles. “Bucky, it’s going to take me 10 seconds. I’ll be in by the time the water’s warmed up and then we can shower together, okay?”

He studied you for a moment. Then he stood up, carrying you bridal style with him back out to the main room where you had left your phone. “Call her,” he said, still holding you.

You bit back a smile at how clingy he was being. You grabbed your phone and dialed your boss’ number holding your breath as it rang. 

“Hello?”

“Hi Valerie. I’m sorry for the late notice but my boyfriend is really sick and I don’t think I’m going to be able to make it into work today.”

There was a moment of silence before your boss responded with “He got back this morning didn’t he?”

You closed your eyes for a moment, looking down. You had been worried at work yesterday because he hadn’t gotten back yet. She must have overheard “Yes.”

She sighed but on the other end she was also smiling a little. “Alright. Just be here tomorrow.”

You let out a small breath of relief. “Thank you.”

“Yep. Tell him I hope his separation anxiety improves,” she said, hanging up the phone. You tried your best not to burst out laughing. When Bucky looked at you questioningly, you shook your head. “Work joke,” you said, still trying to hide your smile. 

Bucky nodded, walking back towards the bedroom and into the attached bathroom. He set you down on the counter before turning on the water. He walked back over to you and stood between your legs, wrapping his arms behind your back. You wrapped your arms around his neck in return, and the two of you rested your foreheads against each other. 

It was a nice quiet moment of peace, before you felt the warmth of Bucky’s hands leave their spot on your back, and travel lower to your -

“Bucky,” you laughed a little, “Did you miss me, or my ass?”

“Yes,” he answered quickly. 

You laughed some more and Bucky loved it. God he missed that sound. He laughed a little with you.

“Really, I missed everything about you,” he said, pulling back to look at you. “I love your voice, your laugh, your ass,” he kissed you before adding “the amazing neck massage you’re about to give me.”

You looked up at him. “Oh really, yeah? That’s how this is gonna be?”

Bucky looked down at you innocently. “Mhm”

“I hate giving you massages”

“You love it”

“It hurts my thumbs”

“It helps my neck”

“Your muscles are too hard”

“Your hands are too soft.”

You looked up at him and smiled, laughing a little as you asked “You really want a massage?”

“Yes I very much would like one.” He said nodding enthusiastically and smiling. 

“Ok, fine.” you said, still laughing. “The hot water will help. But we should probably take our clothes off first.”

He stepped back and gave you a smirk. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

[nelson-et-murdock]

Home - Luke Alvez

*not my gif*

One-shot detailing the reader’s time with Luke and the BAU as they return from a 6-month sabbatical

Warnings: angst mixed with fluff, BAU! Reader, fem reader.

Didn’t proofread so possible occasional errors

Other Details: Reader has PhDs in Psychology and Anthropology with masters in Sociology and Criminal Justice

Pairing: Luke Alvez x fem BAU! Reader. Platonic team x reader. Maybe some mistakes here and there

Flashbacks/memories are in italics and bolded

Word Count: 4.6K

As you drove to Quantico, a familiar feeling started to consume you. It had been over 6 months since you last saw the inside of the BAU. As much as you missed the people you had grown to know, you were unsure of how smoothly your return would go. It wasn’t long before you pulled into the parking lot and made your way into the building and to the elevator. You weren’t officially reinstated to the unit yet due to delays in paperwork and had therefore only been in contact with Emily about your return. The feeling in your stomach as you approached the 6th floor was very reminiscent of your first day with the unit.

Despite having been part of the FBI for years, you still got first-day jitters when you approached the building. You had met with Emily Prentiss a few times prior when your name had been put in for the open position, but you had no idea who anyone else was or how they’d react to a new agent joining the team. You knew full well that the BAU was the crown jewel of the FBI and that there was going to be a lot of pressure to live up to any expectations.

As you made your way to the BAU, you fidgeted with the messenger bag you kept your things in, being in the FBI you found it much more useful than carrying around a purse. After calming your nerves you slowly made your way to Emily’s office, with the help of who would later learn was Spencer.

As you walked towards Emily’s office, Luke spotted you far before you spotted him. Quiet murmurs around the bullpen speculating who you were and what you needed to see Prentiss about were just out of earshot. The conversation with Prentiss was short before the two of you walked out of her office and into the conference room for Prentiss to introduce you to the team.

“As I’m sure you’re all aware we have a new agent joining us. This is Dr. y/n y/ln and I believe she’ll be an excellent addition to the team,” she stated. Quick individual introductions were done and the entire atmosphere was generally accepting yet professional. That was until you got to Luke and had to act like it was the first time you had met, well aware that no one on the team knew about your time spent with him.

“Luke Alvez, I look forward to working with you,” he said coldly, in a way that the team would chalk up to him having a bad day but that you knew was residual anger he had for you.

“Likewise,” you responded with a small smile despite the slight pang in your chest at the sight of the man you once knew.

Not long after you joined the BAU, Penelope had become suspicious of the way you acted around Luke. You had warmed up to everyone in the unit, except for him. One day she had wanted answers and the most she would get from either of you was “We just don’t get along Garcia it’s nothing important.” Even without being a profiler, Garcia could tell there was more to the story than that.

When she got a few spare minutes during a case she did a deep dive into your personal history, looking for anything in your past connecting to Luke.

Garcia didn’t know what to expect when she went digging into you, but it definitely wasn’t that you previously had an over 2-year long relationship with Luke. Garcia had gotten so caught up in finding out what went down between you and Luke that she didn’t hear footsteps approaching in time to close her search.

“Hey Garcia..” you started but tapered off as you saw the screens before you. “I - Prentiss needed - shit sorry I uh,” you tried to get Garcia back on topic for the case but fumbled on the words.

“No no don’t be sorry. I’m so sorry I did this. I know I shouldn’t have looked into your past with Newbie but I couldn’t understand why you guys don’t get along. I mean I get not liking him because he’s Newbie but you. You’re this little ray of sunshine girl wonder. I can’t believe he broke your heart like that-” she started to ramble on but you cut her off before she could continue.

“I left him,” you said hoping it would satiate her curiosity.

“Details? You can’t just drop that on me and not give me details. Did he do something? Was he a bad boyfriend? Should I hate him for it?”

“No, he did nothing wrong, it was all on me. I was scared he started talking about marriage and kids and he had the right to we had been together for nearly 3 years and I wasn’t sure if I was ready so I requested a transfer to a California field office and when it was approved I told him I got a job offer I couldn’t pass up and I left him.”

“Do you still love him?”

“I think part of me always will but Garcia this stays between us. I mean it, don’t tell anyone.”

“My lips are sealed. If you need anything the batcave is always open to have you,” she said as she stood up to embrace you in a hug.

Little did you know, Luke was having a very similar conversation with Matt down the hall.

The ding of the elevator signaling your arrival on the 6th floor shook you out of your thoughts. The closer you got to where you needed to be, the more anxious your return was making you. While you had come across a few bad cases, a few stuck out to you in particular, including the first one you had with the unit, which ultimately allowed you to reconnect with Luke.

The first difficult case for the team since you joined took more of a toll on you than you would like to admit. Once everyone was on the jet you took a seat and hoped to avoid any conversation about how you were feeling that day. You flashed a few small smiles at your colleagues in an attempt to let them know you were okay without actually saying anything. For the most part, your plan had been successful. That was until Luke had noticed the way you had been acting.

“Is it okay if I join you?” he asked motioning to the empty seat beside you. You silently nodded and avoided looking at him as he took a seat beside you. “I know we aren’t exactly close anymore but you can still come to me if you need anything,” he told you as you silently nodded.

“I know - I just. Can we talk about it later? I’d rather not talk about it right now,” you responded, finally looking his way.

“Of course. If you feel comfortable coming over tonight we can talk at my place. I know Roxy misses you,” he said with a smile.

“I’d like that. Thank you.” The rest of the time on the jet was spent in comfortable silence.

Upon getting back to the bullpen, you and Luke decided it would be best for him to drive you to his place after the two of you were done with the reports you had to write. As you sat at your desk and took out the files of papers you needed to complete, you couldn’t bring yourself to concentrate. As your mind kept replaying the events of the previous week, it was apparent you were becoming frustrated. It didn’t take Luke long to see that you were struggling and to tell Prentiss he was going to take you home for the night to make sure you were doing okay before heading over to your desk.

“You’ve done enough work today, let’s get out of here,” Luke whispered to you as you nodded. “I’ll meet you at the elevator in 5 minutes so no one thinks anything about us leaving at the same time,” he told you, knowing you wouldn’t like the idea of any possible attention on you that could come with the two of you leaving together.

The ride to Luke’s was much quicker than you had remembered it to be. Neither one of you two said very much and just let the radio play at a low volume. For most of the ride, you watched out the window while Luke focused on driving, occasionally looking your way to check that you were okay. As he pulled into his driveway, you realized how much you missed Luke and the sense of safety and comfort he provided for you.

The two of you talked about why the case had bothered you so much more than you had expected, and it soon turned to talking about whatever came to your mind. “I miss you. I know we work together now and that I’m the one who left but I really miss you, Luke. I miss spending time with you and the random updates we gave each other when you were gone and overall I just miss you. I think that’s why I struggled so much with this case when I didn’t hear back from you when you were in the field because I couldn’t live with myself if something happened and you didn’t know how I felt,” you started to ramble on.

“I’ve missed you too y/n,” Luke responded as he draped his arm around your shoulders pulling you closer to him, “I miss waking up and knowing you were either right next to me or that you were a phone call away.” Checking the time, Luke placed a kiss on your temple before whispering “Let’s get some sleep it’s getting late”

You nodded in response before the two of you got ready for bed. After changing into a pair of Luke’s sweatpants and an old shirt, you crawled into the bed the two of you had shared so many times before and eventually fell asleep in the arms you had previously grown to associate with comfort and safety.

As you walked down the hall, you passed the spot you were standing when you got an offer to lead a study and return to anthropology. It was a temporary out from profiling but it was something that you had missed doing. Upon getting the offer, a range of emotions flowed through you, yet it took nearly 2 weeks to tell Luke and another 2 weeks to tell anyone else.

The day started like any other day-off with Luke. The two of you slept until around noon and laid around just enjoying each other’s company. Working together didn’t allow for much personal time together as you had to remain professional when on cases. Prentiss didn’t mind when it was a paperwork day that you guys spent time at each other’s desks, so long as PDA was kept to a minimum, which it always was. However, it wasn’t the same as getting to just spend time together without having to worry about catching an unsub or fill out a report in time with no errors.

While laying in bed, the offer to lead an anthropological study at the University of Michigan kept eating at you. You had limited time to make a decision and respond to the offer. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to bring the topic up with Luke and you couldn’t make a decision without informing him of the offer first.

“Is everything okay princesa?” Luke asked, noticing the sudden change in your emotions.

“Yeah, there’s just something I need to talk to you about,” you responded looking up at him. “But I need you to hear me out and keep in mind that I haven’t made a decision yet and that nothing is final.”

“You’re beginning to worry me,” he started, “Are you sure nothing is wrong?”

“I was offered the chance to lead an anthropological study,” you stated, leaving him speechless. Memories of when you left him flooding back. You could tell by the look on his face that he was worried this was the beginning of the end for the two of you once again. “I know what you’re thinking and it isn’t like that this time. I know I did something similar when I left but I promise I’m different now. The study is through the University of Michigan and it’s only slated to take 6-months if not less. It’s primarily overseeing graduate students as they conduct a study. I’d be able to set my own office hours so that we can talk as often as possible. I just don’t know if I want to take the offer.”

“You sound invested in the study already. What would be keeping you from taking it?” he asked, his voice full of support for you. All he ever wanted was for you to achieve your dreams. When you didn’t immediately answer he spoke again, “Is it me? Is that why you might not take it?”

You slowly nodded in response, “I feel like I just got you back and now I might be leaving, and what if things don’t work out with us not in the same state?”

“Princesa, listen to me. If you promise that this is nothing like last time and that you aren’t doing this in an attempt to leave then I trust you. We can figure out us as the situation comes up and I’m confident we can work out this time around. Whatever you decide I am forever proud of you and in awe of all that you’ve accomplished.”

“I love you,” was all you could think to respond with.

“I love you too princesa,” Luke said, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

Two weeks had passed since you told Luke of the news when a really difficult case had seemed to take a toll on pretty much everyone. After the case, it was decided that those who were able to would come over to the house you shared with Luke to decompress. Spencer and Garcia came and spent the entire day, and much of the night, with the two of you. Having extended the invite to significant others, Matt brought Kristy by to visit with everyone after they found a sitter around 7:30.

Once everyone who planned on coming was there, it didn’t take long for everyone to get caught up in conversations about personal lives. The conversation started with asking Matt and Kristy about their kids and eventually, everyone started talking about overall changes in their lives. “So girl wonder,” Matt started, referring to you by a name originally bestowed on you by Garcia before it caught on to the rest of the team, “Luke said you got an offer to lead a pretty interesting study is that right?”

“Yeah. He wasn’t supposed to tell anyone I haven’t made a decision yet. The department I’d be overseeing for it ran into some problems and the start date has been pushed back. It would be nice to get away from the dark and scary parts of this job and back to what I started with but I’d miss you guys too much.”

“Would it be permanent?” Spencer asked. The two of you had grown close since you joined the unit and while he wanted to be excited for you, he would be lying if he said the idea of you leaving didn’t upset him at all.

“No,” you started to say, “It’s slated to last 6-months but there’s no guarantee the study will be finished in time.”

“Are you still going to work at the BAU when you come back?” Garcia questioned.

“I’m not sure. If I’m being completely honest, I’ve been struggling with deciding lately if I’m a good fit for the unit, but I plan to stay with the bureau somehow,” you answered hesitantly.

The rest of the night was spent answering questions about the study and getting support from those around you. By the time everyone was ready to leave, you felt completely comfortable knowing that whatever decision you came to, you would have a support system of amazing friends.

Looking back, you should have noticed that the number of times you were having trouble with cases was more of a problem than you should have was a sign you needed to step away from the job. The cases themselves weren’t getting harder, but you personally were having a harder time with them. The longer you were with the unit, the more issues you had been having an increasingly difficult time coping after them. You would have thought they would have gotten easier to manage, but you found yourself struggling every time you felt a decision you made could have changed the outcome of a case. In your previous position before the BAU, you felt powerless as the victims were long gone and often one-off crimes and you felt switching to the BAU and being able to get killers off the street would make you feel better as you’d be helping get active killers off the street. However, you were extremely wrong, and the feeling that you could, no that you should, have stopped their killers before it was too late became too much for you and you decided to take a step back from the unit.

“Y/ln, we need to talk in my office,” Prentiss said as you entered the bullpen.

“Yes ma’am,” you responded, setting your go-bag down on your desk before you made your way to where she was standing. The entire team knew exactly what Prentiss needed to talk to you about and a few members even gave you sympathetic looks as you crossed the bullpen.

“Before we start I just want to say I’m sorry. I know what I did was against protocol,” you started.

“That’s not why you’re in here,” Emily cut you off. “While what you did was unacceptable, you’re here because I’m worried about you. In these past 2 cases, you’ve shown reckless behavior, as if you’re trying to get yourself hurt. I’m not mad at you, but I do need you to let me know if anything is going on that is affecting your ability to do this job.”

You silently nodded as she spoke. The more she said, the more you began to question your place in the unit. “Thank you. I’ve just had some personal problems the past week but I should be good to go now,” you said lying through your teeth.

“Just let me know if anything changes. Your health and personal well-being are more important than this job.”

The next week the BAU was called in to help with another tough case. While it wasn’t the first tough case you encountered in the time you had been with the BAU, this one was worse than others.

The victims are similar in both age and appearance to a close family member of yours and it had made it difficult for you to concentrate in the field the way you needed to. At one point you had even froze and almost didn’t get to a victim in time. For the entirety of the case, you were closed off from everyone when it didn’t involve work.

Upon returning to the BAU, everyone slowly dispersed their desks and you made your way to Prentiss’s office. Her door was open but you still knocked quietly before entering. “Can we talk?”

“Of course, come in.”

You could tell from the sympathetic look on her face that she knew what you needed to say. As you sat across from her she waited for you to speak. After letting out a small sigh you found the confidence to admit what was happening, “I think I need to step away from this job.”

With a silent nod, she grabbed the appropriate paperwork from her file cabinet, “I knew this day was coming. Luke told me you had been having nightmares lately. Fill out these papers and return them to me as soon as possible. If you opt for a sabbatical instead of completely leaving it should take roughly 2 weeks for it to be approved. In the meantime, you would still be a member of the team but be able to use the vacation days you have or you can be solely a desk agent and assist Garcia. Whichever one you choose I, as well as the rest of the team, will be here for you and have enjoyed working with you.”

Fighting tears that had started to form as she spoke, you nodded and said a quiet thank you before leaving her office. Setting the papers down on your desk on the way, you headed towards Garcia’s office to let her know you planned on leaving.

Once you were out of earshot, JJ had peeked at the papers you had set down. “What is it?” Spencer asked, almost not wanting to know the answer.

“Y/ln is leaving the unit,” she responded, voice full of confusion. As she spoke everyone turned to Luke and he nodded slightly in response, confirming you were leaving the family you had grown to love.

After your sabbatical was approved, you accepted the offer to lead the study. Much to your dismay, the team was insistent on throwing you a going-away party, despite knowing you were going to come back in 6 months. You told the team that if they insisted on having a gathering at Rossi’s place that it needed to be something that the members of the unit with kids could bring them with, feeling there was no point in, “saying goodbye to a family member” as Rossi had put it, without all of the family members being there.

“Remind me again why we have to make a big deal of me leaving? I already said goodbye to the team and I’ll be back and with the unit again in less than a year,” you wondered aloud to Luke as you pulled into Rossi’s driveway.

“Because princesa, it’ll make Rossi happy to get to throw you a party and its tradition, regardless of how long the leave will be. And besides, the kids want to see you before you leave for 6 months,” he reminded you.

“You got me there,” you said with a smile before kissing his cheek. “Let’s head in before we’re late.”

Shortly after you guys made your way inside and to the backyard, Matt and Kristy had arrived with their kids. The kids knew why you were having a going away party and instantly ran to you when they saw you. When you noticed the kids running up to you, both you and Luke knelt to prepare for the number of hugs you were about to get. Due to offering to babysit when Matt and Kristy needed time to themselves, the kids had grown to see you as an aunt and Luke as an uncle. The same could be said for Henry and Michael, who showed up with JJ and Will shortly after the Simmons had arrived. The next couple of minutes were spent answering any questions the kids could think to ask you, in the most kid-friendly way you could.

“You’ll be back by my birthday right?” David asked looking up at you. In the time you had known the kids, you hadn’t missed a birthday for any of them.

“Of course I will buddy,” you responded. 

“What about our stories?” Chloe asked.

“Yeah who is gonna tell us our stories while you’re gone?” While they had the Simmons Stories, the ones you told were different. You told them stories of the different cultures you studied and the different ways parts of the universe were believed to have come into existence.

“I have them all written down. I can leave them with Luke and he can read them to you,” you reassured all of them. 

As the night went on, many memories from your time with the unit were shared with the group. Even though you planned to come back as soon as the study was over, knowing they would spend the next 6 months without you seemed to make everyone nostalgic.

Near the end of the night, everyone started saying their goodbyes. It was particularly hard to say goodbye to Spencer, knowing nearly everyone else he had gotten close to had left him as well. “I’m sorry,” was the first thing you managed to say to him. “I know you hate goodbyes and struggle with change but I promise I will come back and if not to work with the unit at least for our weekly coffee shop visits.”

“You don’t have to apologize. You’re doing what you have to do,” he responded as you opened your arms to offer him a hug. You were always the first to initiate hugs and he usually accepted them.

“I’ll miss you, Spence. You already have my cell phone number and the phone number for my office for the next 6 months. Call me anytime you need me,” you told him while hugging him.

“I’m proud of you. I’ll miss you too y/nn,” he said as you pulled apart.

“See you in 6 months.”

As you made your way into the bullpen you took note of the date. It was 6 months and 4 days since you had seen any of the team face-to-face. While you kept personal contact with the entire team while you were away, you hadn’t told anyone except for Emily that you were planning on coming back to the team. Luke knew when the study would end and was expecting to see you at home later that night, assuming that the team didn’t get a case that pulled him away.

When you entered the bullpen, Matt was the first to notice your arrival. He was already standing at Luke’s desk to ask him a question related to a report he was writing and flashed a small smile in your direction before nudging Luke on the arm, “Why didn’t you tell anyone y/n was returning today?”

Not thinking you were actually there, Luke brushed off Matt. “She isn’t coming home until later tonight and told me even if she does return to the unit it would take some time for her to be reinstated,” he responded, not even looking up from his file.

Knowing he wouldn’t look up from his file right away, you talked quietly with everyone else before approaching his desk. You brought back small trinkets for everyone and placed a small handmade miniature Roxy in front of him. “One of the students I was overseeing made it when she saw a picture of you and Roxy as my phone background to help me cope with being away from you. I figured since I’m home now you could use it more,” you explained as if it wasn’t the first time you were seeing your boyfriend in over 6 months.

Luke watched silently as you spoke, a smile creeping onto his face when he processed you were actually there in front of him. As he stood up from his chair, he quickly wrapped his arms around you before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’re home?” he asked, trying to comprehend your arrival. 

“I’m home,” you responded with a smile as you looked up at him. 

“I’ve missed you so much, you can’t leave me for that long again,” he said with a smile.

Before you could respond, Garcia came speeding out of her office due to having heard of your return from JJ. “Girl wonder! You’re back! Are you staying with us? You can’t leave me with Newbie for that long ever again,” she exclaimed as she approached you.

“Yes, I’m back. Weaning back into the job and will be on desk duty here and helping you for the first 2 weeks but I’m back,” you told her.

[tomthesoftie]

Oh ok yeah thanks #57

taken for granted

a/n: this came out longer than expected, it’s almost 3000 words... this is probably super angsty, maybe... also, i’m going to work on ‘nothing can go wrong’ soon but i have to write two essays for school so i’m sorry if there is a delay... enjoy xx

pairing: mob!tom x reader

warnings: swearing, angsty shit, fluff at the end, mob!tom is a dick

masterlist                     prompt list

57. “Stop pretending you’re okay ‘cause I know you’re not.”

Tom rarely spent any of his time with you now. He was always too preoccupied with his mobster duties. On rare occasions, he would join you in your shared bed, but by the time he arrived, you were already fast asleep. You always tried to fit with his schedule to at least say goodnight to him or wake up to see him by your side, but all your attempts failed. So when Tom said he had a free day, which he could have whenever he wanted seeing he was his own boss, you jumped at the opportunity.

You woke, bundled in the white sheets, yawning and stretching before looking to the usually empty space beside you. Tom laid there, curls tousled and chest heaving peacefully. You felt a warmth in your core, and you smiled. 

You decided to get ready for your day with your boyfriend, preparing brunch and a list of things you could do together in your single day together.

things to do:

1. eat brunch together

2. go out on a romantic walk

3. have afternoon tea

4. come back home and make cookies together

5. watch a movie

6. make a surprise dinner for tom

7. snuggle and let the rest of the night flow as it goes

Tom sat up on the bed, stretching his arms while letting out a loud yawn. He hadn’t slept this well in a while. 

A delectable aroma blew into the room, tickling his nose. He breathed in the scent, following it to its source. He stared at the table of his favorite foods displayed in front of him. 

You entered the dining room holding another plate of food. You placed the platter neatly between two other plates, finishing off your first surprise for Tom.

“Christ, darling, what’s all this for?” Tom spoke.

You jumped, not realizing he had been standing there,��“Oh my goodness, Thomas, you scared me,” you looked at the food, “It’s all for you. I wanted to make your day off enjoyable. Besides, we haven’t spent much time together in a while.”

He smiled, “I love you so much.”

Blushing, you replied, “I love you, too. Now let’s eat.”

Brunch was pleasant but awkward. You didn’t know what to talk about with him, so you resorted to staring at him while he ranted about problems. It wasn’t that you didn’t care for his problems, but you wanted this day to be about the both of you. You plastered a genuine smile on your face, though it began to falter.

“I was thinking that we could go out to town and just walk around, that is if you want,” you suggested when the two of you finished your meal.

“O-Oh, um, sure. Let me go get ready, love,” he walked over to you, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead before quietly thanking you.

His small signs of affection were enough to erase your worries. You told yourself you overreacted about him talking about himself at breakfast. He did care.

-

Hand in hand, you and Tom strolled through the crowded streets of Kingston upon Thames. You admired the beautiful city, feeling lucky to be able to live there. 

More than you wanted, Tom’s attention went to his phone. He laughed and smiled at whatever was on his phone. He typed away, glowing with happiness.

You felt a pang of jealousy.

Who could be making Tom feel like this? He seems to be enjoying his day more with the person throw his screen than the one right beside him. You thought to yourself, grip loosening on his hand.

He didn’t notice the change, and you frowned. Your boyfriend was glowing with happiness, and you would be a bad girlfriend if you ruined it. You put on a fake smile, hoping it would convince him even though he hadn’t looked at you at all since brunch.

He cares, you convinced yourself.

“Um, Tom?” You asked, seeing the tea house you were planning to get afternoon tea at.

“Mhm?” His eyes were locked on his phone.

“I was thinking that we could get some afternoon tea. We don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” you tried to look him in the eyes, only to fail miserably.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever you want,” he mumbled.

Still holding his hand, you pulled him to the building. The receptionist looked at Tom then to you, noticing the lack of attention he was giving you. You tried to smile it off, but she gave you a look of sympathy before bringing you to your table.

It was a shame Tom’s eyes were glued to the screen of his phone. The table you’d gotten had a perfect view of River Thames. 

“Tom,” you squeaked.

He didn’t respond.

“Tom,” you said louder.

Still no answer.

“Tom,” you said in a demanding voice.

His head snapped up, “What?”

You sighed. This day was definitely going unexpectedly. The worse part about it all was that you wanted the day to be over. You were mad at yourself for that. He cares about you, so why couldn’t you care about him?

“D’you like how the day’s going?” You asked in a softer tone.

“Mhm, great,” he said flatly.

You didn’t know what else to say, so you let him go back to ogling his phone. You wanted to cry. The only day you had with him, wasted.

Tears filled your eyes, feeling ignored by Tom. To avoid tears from rolling down your cheeks and exposing your true feelings about how the day was going, you dismissed yourself to the ladies room. 

Tom heard the rawness in your voice and looked up. Your head was down as you excused yourself. He carefully watched you as you quickly scattered away. He heard a sniffle but doubted that it came from you. You were the one who dragged him along, anyways.

-

You were thankful to be back home. You didn’t feel like preparing a grand dinner anymore. You felt like going to sleep and end the day. 

Goddamnit, Y/N! Pull yourself together. He’s always putting you on top. You need to put him on top now, you scolded yourself.

Trying to muster up all the remaining sanity in you, you headed to the kitchen and worked away. 

Hours passed as you prepared the meal. You made sure nothing went wrong, working slowly. With precision, you plated each meal. Your hands shook, and you droplets of sweat rolled down your forehead. 

“Done,” you murmured to yourself, smiling.

Everything looked beautifully put together, as you were an amateur. You gave yourself a small pat on the back. Then it struck you. You missed some things on your list.

4. come back home and make cookies together

5. watch a movie

You slapped your forehead. Where had the time gone? You felt terrible. You missed a couple hours of spending time with your boyfriend. Hopefully the dinner would make up for it.

-

Unsurprisingly, dinner wasn’t much different from the rest of the day. You were thrown to the side while he enjoyed himself.

No, he hasn’t had the time to relax and enjoy himself in a while. I can’t blame him for that, you sighed, I just wish he would enjoy and relax with me.

“Thanks for the dinner, darling. It was... delicious,” he hesitated.

Your attention moved to him. You gave him a small smile, feeling slightly offended by his hesitation.

He left the room, moving to the living room. You were left to do all the dishes and work by yourself. 

Great.

-

You stepped out of the shower, drying yourself off. You slipped on Tom’s oversized shirt, wearing a matching set of lingerie underneath. You hoped it was enough to grab his attention.

You heard murmuring downstairs. You walked down the stairs, seeing Tom on the couch with Tuwaine, Harrison, and Harry.

“H-Hello, boys,” you said, catching their attention. “Sorry about my - um - improper outfit. I didn’t know you’d be coming over.”

“S’alright, love. Mind getting us some wine, though?” Harrison asked, smirking.

“But-- I-- Sure,” you said pathetically.

You brought them four glasses and an expensive bottle of wine, opened of course. 

You settled beside Tom, who inched away from you. It struck your heart.

“Don’t you think you should at least go get properly dressed before joining us?” He glared at you.

“O-Oh, sorry,” you whispered, feeling a tug at your heart. “I think I’ll be heading to bed now. Goodnight,” you announced, walking away in a rush.

You rushed up the stairs only to hear Tom complain, “She gets so clingy and annoying.”

Tears poured down your cheeks. A silent sob ripped from your lips. You ran to the room, tripping over yourself several times.

He didn’t care at all. He cares about himself. Only him, you realized.

-

“Mate, she’s your girlfriend. She cares about you. You shouldn’t say that shit about her,” Tuwaine said, feeling sympathy for the girl.

“It’s true, she’s been clinging to my ass all day,” Tom groaned.

“Have you gone out with her recently? Talked to her, at least?” Harrison asked.

Tom didn’t respond, keeping his eyes trained on the bottles of wine ahead of him. That answered enough.

“Tom, did you think that she just missed you?” Harry interrupted the silence.

“Just drop it, guys,” Tom snapped, starting to feel slightly guilty. 

-

You laid in your shared bed, holding yourself in your arms. The blanket wrapped around your body as a shield. 

Quiet sobs escaped your mouth, tears rolling onto your pillow. You were offended Tom would call you ‘clingy’ and ‘annoying.’ You tried so hard to make this day good for him, and he thinks you’re clingy.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, happy that Tom didn’t come to bed before you fell asleep for once. 

-

Tuwaine, Harry, and Haz left after a couple wines. They tried to convince him to treat you better but only received the response, “Let’s talk about something else.”

Tom had seen his own faults after a long, irritating talk with the boys. He was being an ass to you for no reason.

He hurried up the stairs after putting all the dishes into the sink, hoping to catch you awake. To his dismay, you were already out. Tear streaks decorated your puffy face while some new tears slowly moved down your face.

He placed a pained kiss to your forehead. You stirred, moving into his familiar touch. A small smile danced on your lips. His hand moved to caress your cheek, admiring your beauty even when you were in pain.

Without waking you, he slid into the space beside you in bed. He held your waist, nuzzling his face in your neck. You pressed against him, attracted to the heat. He smiled and leaned to kiss your head again.

“Goodnight, darling,” he whispered before drifting to sleep.

-

You woke up with a pounding headache. You tried to sit up but something, or someone, held you down. You looked at the warm figure holding you and saw Tom with his arms wrapped around you. You felt a sting in your chest and tried to pull away. 

You were able to maneuver out of his arms without waking him.

Dizzily, you made your way to the kitchen. You got yourself a cup of water and took some pain relievers. You plopped onto the couch lying on your side. Your legs tucked, and you curled your body into a ball. Without knowing, you fell asleep not too long after.

-

Tom noticed you were out of bed when he woke.

“Darling?” He mumbled, looking around.

With no response, he assumed you had gone to the kitchen for breakfast.

He dragged himself out of bed and headed to the kitchen. Surprisingly, you weren’t there. He saw a cup and pain relievers lying on the counter.

“Princess?” He looked around, still no sight of you.

He walked over to the dining room then to the living room. He saw your limp body on the couch, letting out soft sighs. You were cuddled into a tight ball, shivering from the cold. Picking up a blanket from the room, he draped it over your shaking body. He sat on the couch with you, rubbing your body warm over the blankets. 

-

You felt a weighted cloth enrapture you, giving you warmth. Instinctively, you snuggled into it. A pressure rubbed up and down your arm, further warming you.

You opened your eyes to see Tom hovering over you. You looked closely at him, believing this to be your imagination. Under the sheets, you pinched yourself and felt sharp pains on your arms.

“Ow,” you mumbled.

“Are you alright, love?” Tom asked, worry flooding his features.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you sat up and began to put some distance between the two of you.

“Where are you going?” He scooted closer to you until you had no where else to go.

“I gotta get ready. You should, too, ‘cause, y’know, work,” you fidgeted uncomfortably.

“Wait,” he grabbed your wrist as you began to walk away, “I don’t have to do anything today. I can stay with you.”

“No, it’s alright. Besides, there must be someone to interrogate today,” you snapped, pulling your wrist from his grip.

He didn’t know why your mood had changed. Just yesterday, you were so loving and warm to him. 

Did you overhear him last night? He worried.

“Love,” he knocked on the door, “can I come in?”

He heard a couple of sniffles behind the closed door and frowned to himself.

“Just a sec,” you called out with a pained voice.

Tom could hear your tears in you voice and concerningly asked, “Are you okay in there?”

“Yeah, just fine,” you squeaked, slowly feeling your composure falter.

“Darling, open the door,” he demanded.

“Wait a moment, please,” you said too weakly.

“Open the do-”

“I will,” you snapped, “I’m trying to get ready, s’all,” you replied with a calmer tone.

You heard no response from him and expected that he left, so you jumped when the door was thrown open. The brunette stood in the doorway, staring at your red rimmed eyes.

“Tom, I’m fine,” you wiped away a stray tear, smiling, “See? Perfectly fine.”

“No, you’re not! Stop pretending you’re okay ‘cause I know you’re not,” he growled.

“It’s not much of your problem, is it?” You glared at him, beginning to lose your patience.

“Not much of my problem? How is my girlfriend not my problem? It’s my duty to protect and care for you. Why are you-” He was infuriated.

“Well I wouldn’t want to come off as too clingy! Maybe I don’t want to annoy you!” You shouted.

So you did hear him, Tom sighed.

Seeing the evident guilt and shock in his face, you continued, “That’s right, I heard it. You couldn’t’ve even waited for me to get back to the room! Some boyfriend you are,” you mumbled the end, pushing past him.

“Wait,” he called after you, “I didn’t mean what I said. It was just in the heat of the moment. I was just stressed with everything going with the mob.”

“Right,” you nodded unbelievably.

“Haz and them helped me see that I was the one in the wrong. I shouldn’t have called you that. I’m sorry, love, truly, very sorry,” he pouted at you.

“You really hurt me, Tom. I planned a whole day out for us yesterday. You ignored me for practically the entire day,” you hiccuped, a rush of disappointment filled you.

“I know. I’m so sorry, love. I was such an asshole. You deserve to be treated better. I’ll fix that, I swear. I’ll spend more time with you. We could go on dates again. I’ll even make sure that I’ll go to bed with you,” he carefully walked over to you as if you would run if he got too close.

“But how would I know if you were talking shit about me to your mob cronies?” You asked, doubtful to trust him.

“I’ll personally have Haz, Tuwaine, or Harry slap me if I do, but no need to worry, love, I won’t take you for granted anymore,” he placed a gentle kiss to your head, “Now, would you like to join me for a day of just us?”

You giggled, “No, I wouldn’t,” hurt filled Tom’s features, “I would love to.”

“You’re such a tease,” he chuckled, “but I love you for it.”

You smiled up at him, “I missed having you around, Tommy. I spent so many nights yearning for you.”

“No more nights like that, alright? I’m here til the end of the line,” he answered softly.

-

And so, Tom kept his word. Everything has changed. He became the same Tom that you had met at the coffee shop. You obviously still disagreed with him running the mob, but he would always reassure you, telling you that he wouldn’t leave you.

He didn’t did care after all. He cares about himself the both of us. Only him us, you realized.

[thewayshedreamed]

This Time— Part 6

A Nessian Fan Fic

Fic Masterlist

This chapter offers some additional insight into Nesta’s thought process and sheds a little light on the ongoing process her emotional development has become. I hope it comes through!

This is somewhat of a “building” chapter so that we can get Nessian to the crest, so to speak. Part 7 is already written and only needs some editing, so it’s possible that I’ll be doing a double update today ☺️ They certainly have a lot to discuss, and once I started writing, I couldn’t stop. 😂 Anyway, enough of me. Enjoy!

Links to the previous parts:

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 ||

Warnings for grief related to the loss of a parent and some strong language.

——————————————————————————

Around 11:00 PM, Nesta decided she couldn’t be alone with her thoughts anymore. She was ruminating on similar memories and effectively raking herself over the coals. Although she knew any one of her friends would be there for her no matter the time of day, she picked up her phone to call the one she knew would most likely be awake at this hour.

“Hello?” Azriel’s raspy voice came through the phone.

“Were you asleep?! Since when do you go to bed early?” Her surprise was obvious by her tone. What the hell? He’s never in bed before midnight.

“Nes. Always a pleasure.” Azriel breathed a chuckle into the phone. “I usually wouldn’t be. I’m.. umm.. at a friend’s house tonight.”

Nesta gasped and dropped her voice. “Oh my gods. Az, were you on a date?! Am I interrupting?” She clapped her free hand over her forehead. “I’m the worst. I’m sorry.”

Another chuckle from Azriel. “You don’t have to whisper, you know. She can’t hear you. You’re not interrupting anything. I was asleep when you called, but I’m out on the couch now. What’s up?”

”If you were asleep, then that counts as interrupting! Are you sure?”

”Yes. Just, maybe the short version?” His tone was tentative, almost as if he felt guilty asking her to keep it concise at 11 PM. No one truly deserved Azriel as their friend.

“I can do that. So, here it is. I’ll save you the long, tedious trip through my brain.” She paused for half a second to take a breath. “I’m in love with Cassian.” She let out a quiet groan for effect.

”Mhmm...” The lilting of his voice implied that he was waiting for something like the punchline of a joke; the unknown part of her statement.

Her breath caught. “I kind of expected more of a reaction.”

”Did you? I thought there was more to it.” He seemed entirely neutral in that grating way of his.

”How did you know?!” She asked, incredulously.

”You told me.”

“Mm.. I don’t think so. When?” Now she was actually confused. Did she make some kind of drunken confession at Rita’s? She would remember having this revelation before now.

“At brunch. When we were driving home.”

”What are you talking about?!” Her voice was definitely higher pitched than it had been previously. She was anxious to hear his response, thinking he had surely dreamed this.

”Nesta. We were in my car, backing out of the parking lot. You asked me, ‘Why couldn’t we be the ones to fall in love?’ Or something along those lines. I thought that you were using some cryptic way of telling me because it implied two parties. Why do you think I hit the brakes so hard?” He seemed impatient, as if he was telling her the most obvious thing in the world.

“I thought maybe the question weirded you out! I didn’t even realize what I said, to be honest. How the actual fuck do you notice tiny things like that?” She didn’t wait on his response. He would know it was rhetorical. “Now my problem is this: I think he’s dating someone, so I’ve lost my chance.” She briefly told him what she had overheard the night of Elain’s birthday, her voice starting to crack toward the end.

”Hm. He hasn’t said anything to me about that, but I could see why he would wait being that you and I are close. But honestly, I don’t know that you could ever lose your chance with Cassian, Nes.”

She didn’t have anything to say to that. She simply sat there, playing with the corner of her throw blanket and hoping he would continue. He seemed to sense her discomfort and started talking again.

“I think you’ll regret it if you don’t talk to him. But, if I can offer my opinion, maybe wait a little while so that you know you’re absolutely sure this is what you want. I don’t know how he would handle it if you decided it’s not what you want.”

She felt herself prickle with defensiveness. “I wouldn’t do that to him, Az. Of course I’m sure. It only took me an eternity to figure this shit out.”

Azriel responded in a soothing tone he so often used with her. “I know. But remember, you’re not the one he talks to about you. I’m just looking out for my brother. Maybe let it marinate, yeah?”

She knew his intentions were pure, and she couldn’t really blame him for being protective. Before she could respond, she heard a feminine voice in the background ask: “Az, everything okay?”

She heard him pull the phone away from his face to answer. “Oh, yeah. All good. It’s Nesta.”

Delayed by her scattered brain and the copious amount of wine, the identity of the voice finally hit her full force.

”IS THAT ELAIN?!” She sat up straighter as if it would allow her to hear them more readily.

She heard Azriel laugh, followed by a shuffling on the other end.

“Hello? Nesta? Everything okay?” Nesta could hear the genuine concern in her voice.

“Hey, El. Everything’s fine! Sorry to crash your date. It seems we have quite a bit to talk about. Very soon.”

It took Elain a couple of seconds to respond, and Nesta could hear the smile in her voice. “Yeah. I think we do. Someone told me I should just talk to him. Turns out that they were right.” She paused, waiting for an “I told you so” from Nesta. She didn’t have the energy. “You know you can talk to me about Cassian, too, right?”

Nesta shut her eyes tightly and shook her head. “Of course. I’m sorry. I’ve been leaning on Az since our fight, and I honestly haven’t had the energy to bring it up beyond that. But I do want to talk to you. And Feyre. It’s just been...hard.”

“I can imagine. It’s hard to remember a time before you and Cass. It’s like the end of an era or something. Just know that we’re here.” Her voice was soft, laced with worry and a desire to help her older sister.

”Maybe for now,” Nesta teased, “but you may not have much time to chat these days.”

She knew she was blatantly deflecting, but El’s words had caused tears to prick her eyes yet again. It’s hard to remember a time before you and Cass. She realized how true it was, and what upset her the most was that she knew she didn’t want to know a time without Cassian.

The call wrapped up with more gentle teasing between the sisters, and eventually, embarrassing Azriel a bit over speakerphone. She told them she loved them and promised to keep them updated on how she was feeling. Her heart felt lighter once she finally ended the call, thanks to the laughter they managed to pull from her.

——————————————————————————

Christine Archeron’s death anniversary fell on a Tuesday that year, and Nesta awoke with a similar irritation as last year— death anniversaries should never fall on weekdays. She went through the familiar motions as any other morning, headed to work, and concentrated on her various tasks she was expected to juggle at any given time. As appearances went, it looked like any other ordinary day to those around her, so the extra heaviness remained hers alone to carry.

On her lunch break, she got a chance to pull her phone to check her messages and mindlessly scroll through social media. She had been focused on scrolling for so long that her phone took her by surprise when it vibrated in her hand. She tapped the notification by reflex and found herself studying the sender’s name as if it was some sort of mistake.

Cassian: Thinking about you today. I know it’s a rough one. Keep your head up. Christine would have it no other way ❤️

Nesta read the text several times in a row; just to make sure it was real. It had been so long since he’d contacted her intentionally, and it made her happy that he still thought to reach out today. It simultaneously made her a little sad; however, because it was yet another reminder of what she’d lost in him. That was an issue to deal with later.

Nesta: Of course you are, because you’re the perfect human, and I don’t deserve you. Thanks, Cass 💕 Means the world to me to hear from you. Mom really loved you, and I know she would appreciate you looking out for us.

She hesitated over the send button for several seconds before deciding to go through with it. It felt so weird to intentionally script any type of message to him being that they had spent most of their relationship entirely uncensored. Everything about it felt wrong— she couldn’t act natural with him because it wasn’t appropriate anymore, yet she didn’t feel right having to draft and redraft their communication. It was all so fucked, and she was tired of this odd limbo they stayed in.

She reflected on her conversation with Azriel and Elain on the night she had unintentionally crashed their date. She knew that they both held strong points about her situation and wouldn’t advise her to try to repair things if they knew it was a lost cause. She acknowledged that Azriel, specifically, knew more than he was at liberty to tell her. That being the case, she decided that was evidence in favor of hashing things out with Cassian. It wasn’t long before she was lost in her own thoughts, her food entirely forgotten.

I’ve spent my entire life trying to ensure I didn’t need anyone. I never wanted to depend heavily on another person in a way that I couldn’t manage on my own. But that’s not really the case anyway, right? I’ve managed fine these few weeks, but that’s the thing. I’ve managed. Why do I try to insist that’s enough for me?

But what if the door is closed? What if this was Cassian’s final push, and he’s gone? I don’t know Alis, and she could be wonderful. She probably appreciates the shit out of him and saw immediately that he’s not the average person. She probably knows how special he is. She probably beams anytime he enters a room and tries to take care of his heart in any way she can. She’s probably fucking delightful.

But does that really compete with history? I guess if that history is filled with turmoil, it could. She’ll never know the Cassian that was a freshman in high school— braces and curly hair, still a head taller than most of the other boys in class. She won’t remember how he hit his second growth spurt the summer after sophomore year, where he started to fill out and caught the attention of any girl with a pulse. She doesn’t know what it’s like when he’s truly angry with his dad and the world. She doesn’t know the full range of his eclectic music tastes or the guilty pleasures he sings depending on his mood. She didn’t do the leg work to reconcile the tough, intimidating exterior when he gets upset with the gentle soul beneath. There’s no way she knows when his humor and his laughter are distractions from his pain rather than when they’re genuine. She can’t love him like I do. Im-fucking-possible.

She was pulled abruptly out of her head, and incredible jealousy, by her alarm. It was time to go back to work and finish out the day, and she hoped it passed as quickly as possible. She silently chastised herself for piling this emotional time bomb on today of all days as she threw away her lunch and walked out of the break room.

So much for leaving this issue for later.

She resolved to put all of these thoughts back into their little box until she had the emotional energy to open the lid once again. Whenever the hell that would be.

——————————————————————————

The rest of the day zoomed by at a blissful pace, thank the gods. In fact, when Nesta glanced at the clock, she realized it was several minutes after 5:00 PM. She clocked out, grabbed her things, and climbed into her car. She took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself to make the drive out to the cemetery. She wasn’t sure what time Elain had been able to go by, but Nesta had agreed to meet Feyre at 5:30 to pay their respects. It was becoming a standing tradition, where they would make their short visit whenever they could during the day and follow with dinner together as a family.

She made it with a few minutes to spare, so she took that time to sit with her mom one-on-one. She gave her a brief update on her life, told her how much she loved and missed her, and gently brushed any leaves or grass clippings off of her headstone. There were fresh flowers in her vase, something she noted each year on her death anniversary. Any other time of year, they kept seasonally appropriate faux flowers to make sure her site was properly decorated. She made a mental note to offer to contribute to the fresh arrangement in the years following when she saw her family at dinner. They were always taken care of before she made it out to the cemetery, and she didn’t want to risk forgetting for the next year. She leaned into the arrangement, taking in the various floral scents emanating from the blooms in the bouquet. There was a myriad of vivid colors, wildflowers throughout, and Nesta loved how true to her mother’s spirit they were.

She turned when she heard car doors and saw Feyre approaching with Rhysand. She stood, extending an arm out to her baby sister, who accepted it readily and rested her head on her shoulder. They wrapped their arms around each other, and Rhysand stood nearby, resting his hand on Feyre’s opposite shoulder. They stood together for several minutes until Nesta excused herself to allow Feyre some time alone with their mom as well.

She drove to her father’s house where she found Elain already setting the table for dinner. They worked together quietly, making sure they had plenty of place settings for everyone. Azriel offered his help to carry various dishes of food to the dining table and took his seat next to Elain once it was all settled. Almost as if on cue, Feyre and Rhysand walked into the house and took their seats as well. The dinner started off quiet considering the somber mood, but Feyre was the first to break the tension when she started to tell stories from their childhood. In a matter of moments, their home was filled with animated story telling and loud bouts of laughter, and Nesta couldn’t think of a better way to honor her mom’s love of life.

As everyone finished up, she suddenly remembered her mental note from earlier. She waited for a natural lull in conversation, then commented softly, “Mom’s flowers were beautiful, you guys. You did an amazing job.”

”They were really perfect. They couldn’t have been more ‘Christine’ if you tried,” Feyre remarked.

“Elain, Dad. I’m not sure which of you took care of them this year, but would you let me take care of next time? I haven’t contributed since she passed, and I’d really like to.”

Mr. Archeron softly shook his head back and forth, communicating to Nesta that it hadn’t been him. Nesta adjusted her gaze to Elain who looked just as confused.

“Oh. Nes, I assumed it was one of you. I didn’t... I didn’t order them. I wished I had.” She looked down at her hands, and Azriel placed a supportive arm across the back of her chair.

“Okay... so who did?” She glanced around the table from person to person, but no one took any credit. It was Rhys who spoke up first, clearing his throat to master his voice.

“You don’t know?”

”Obviously.” She looked to Feyre for support. What the hell is that supposed to mean? Feyre said nothing, watching Rhysand talk with rapt attention.

When he spoke again, it was cautious, as if his words may startle her. “Nesta. The flowers are from Cassian. He’s done them every year since Mrs. Christine died.”

She was suddenly short of breath. Everyone’s attention snapped to Rhys, including her father’s. Her sisters and Azriel were looking at Rhysand with stunned expressions, their eyes flicking to her face occasionally.

“What? How could you know— why would you know, when we don’t? What the fuck is going on?” She was falling over her own words, struggling to form any cohesive thought.

”I’m so sorry,” Rhysand glanced around the room for the first time, realizing he had everyone’s attention. “The only reason I knew was because he asked me to make sure they made it from the flower shop to her gravesite the year he had knee surgery. He asked me to keep it to myself then, but I figured by now he would have said something to at least one other person.” He looked down into his plate, various emotions playing over his handsome face. Feyre leaned over to comfort him, knowing he was likely embarrassed to be the reason the air had changed so dramatically.

Nesta’s head was swimming, emotions roiling from a million different directions. She knew anger was cheap and unfair, but she pulled on that tether as hard as she could to make sure she could navigate everything she was processing. She was on her feet suddenly, pushing her chair away from the table and walking toward her keys.

“I have to go.” She couldn’t be in here anymore. The room was too small, the walls were too close. Too many people. She picked up the pace, flinging the door open and shutting it hard behind her. She was down the porch steps when she heard the door open again. Azriel’s voice followed her.

”Nesta. Where are you going? Nesta, stop!” He had jogged lightly to catch up with her, and he tugged her gently by the wrist to stop her. She spun on him quickly, eyes flaring and brimming with tears.

“Anywhere but here! What the fuck was that, Az?”

He said nothing; looked down at his own feet as he shook his head.

“Cassian has some fucking nerve, you know that? Why is he insisting upon himself?” Her voice was lowered and had taken on an almost eerie quality; the calm before the proverbial storm.

“Nes, I don’t think he meant to upset you. It sounds like it’s something he’s made somewhat of a tradition. Maybe he just wanted to be sure and see it through.”

”He doesn’t get to do that anymore, Azriel. He doesn’t get to butt-dial me while he makes date plans with some girl, then turn around and send flowers to my dead mother. What am I supposed to think about that? And how would that make his girlfriend feel?” Azriel pulled her into a hug at that, resting his chin on top of her head. He didn’t answer her. There was nothing to say.

She pulled away from him, gripping her keys, and walked toward her car. “I’m out. Tell them I love them, and I’ll call tomorrow.” She nodded her chin toward the house, climbed into her car, and backed out of the driveway.

——————————————————————————

She wasn’t sure how long she’d driven before she found herself in his driveway. She knew it hadn’t been very long considering the sun was still clinging to the end of the day. She honestly didn’t remember making the conscious decision to come here, likely fueled by anger and muscle memory more than anything else. She was still so frustrated at her situation, her emotions spilling over and refusing to be put into that stupid fucking box anymore. The worst part was that, as mad as she was with him, she so badly wanted to see him. She wished the circumstances were less complicated so that she could knock, ask for a hug and some tea, and lay on his couch. They were a hell of a long way from those people now.

She loosed a breath, puffing her cheeks with air and exhaling slowly. Just before she peeled her head from the headrest to get out, his front door opened. He opened it most of the way, then leaned against the door jamb on his shoulder. He had his hands in the pockets of his sweats and one of his ankles crossed casually over the other. For a moment, she only looked at him, unable to move or offer any type of acknowledgement. She took in the charcoal henley he was wearing, unbuttoned save for the very last one. The small flap of the opening leaned to the side, revealing the base of his neck and the beginning of his tattoos. He looked so very Cassian, casual and laid-back, that she struggled to keep her emotions level at the mere sight of him. His hair was down, looking like he had just run his fingers through it with its deep part and how it fell haphazardly around his face. He was wearing his reading glasses, she noticed, the thick frames highlighting the sharp angle of his cheekbones and the wide set of his jaw. He gave her a soft smile, and cocked his head to the side and back in invitation. She could almost hear him gently telling her to “get in here”.

Too late to turn back now.

——————————————————————————

A/N: Alrighty, hope y’all enjoyed this chapter, even with minimal Nessian. The next chapter(s) will more than make up for it, though! I’m hoping to have max Nessian to y’all ASAP. A million thanks to all of you who continue to follow this au. Your comments/ feedback have meant the world to me!

If you’d like to be tagged, feel free to comment, reblog, or send a message! I’d be happy to add you to the list. If I’ve accidentally left you off or there are issues with your tag, let me know, and I’ll look into it! Comments and constructive criticism are welcome (even encouraged)!

Tags:

@polireader // @lord-douglas-the-third // @justgiu12 // @notyournymphetish // @sjm-things // @strangeenemy // @iammissstark // @keshavomit // @sjmships // @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks // @dusty-lightbulb // @texas-shaped-waffle-maker // @julemmaes // @charincharge // @superspiritfestival // @awesomelena555 // @sleeping-and-books // @hizqueen4life // @maastrash // @bookstantrash // @rhyswhitethorn // @grace-k-sterling // @sayosdreams // @sis-it-dont-add-up // @ladywitchling // @b00kworm // @courtofjurdan

[suitofvibraniumarmor]

If You Just Realize

Part Six: Projecting

Summary: After being called to pick up Milena in the middle of the night, the weight of things causes friction between Sebastian and Y/N.  Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader Word Count: 2075 Series Warnings: Death, angst, sadness. Lots of creative licensing, I’m sure. Chapter Warnings: Couple curse words, hospital setting, stroke, light angst/confusion. Square Filled: This entire series will fill my realized feelings square for @marvelfluffbingo​​​. A/N: I’ve much enjoyed writing this series, and I hope all of you enjoy reading it! The tag list is open; requests to be added can be done so here. There are bits and pieces of Romanian throughout the series, mostly from Google Translate and the few things I’ve picked up as I learn the language.

Series Masterlist

GIF Credit

The wedding plans came together quickly. Without anything elaborate in mind, there weren’t a lot of details to work out. The dress had been purchased that afternoon, with Georgeta and Milena’s help before Milena went back to Alice and Tim’s house until the day of the wedding. Y/N’s immediate family and her grandmother would be in New York the day after tomorrow, the wedding would take place at City Hall the day after that, and then they would be married. 

Married. I’m marrying him. Seb’s going to be my husband, Y/N thought to herself as she stared up at the ceiling in the guest bedroom at Sebastian’s apartment. She had explained that she was getting overwhelmed and needed a little space. Sebastian was honest: he was feeling overwhelmed, too, and some space might be a good thing for both of them. 

“Not a bad start to a marriage, as far as honest communication,” Y/N mumbled to herself, trying to get comfortable. Her efforts were in vain, however, and when Sebastian knocked on the guest room door a few minutes before midnight, he only had to do so once before Y/N was sitting up and telling him to come in. He was still in the same t-shirt and sweats he had gone to bed in, but now he had donned sneakers and was stuffing the essentials — phone, keys, wallet — into his pockets. 

He leaned in the doorway then. “Sorry to wake you. Tim Hill is in the hospital; they think he had a stroke. Alice just called me, I’ve got to go get Milena. I didn’t want you to worry if you woke up and I was gone. I guess I could have texted you …”

“No, no,” Y/N assured, throwing back the covers and sliding out of bed. “I was awake. I’ll go with you — if you want.”

Sebastian’s tired half-smile conveyed his relief. Y/N hurried to put on some leggings with the t-shirt she had gone to bed in and push her feet in a pair of sneakers, then followed Sebastian out to his car. The drive to the hospital was silent, and when they arrived, they met in front of the parked car and joined hands without either of them thinking twice. 

“Thank you so much for coming,” Alice greeted quietly. She turned and motioned to Milena, who was asleep on a cushioned bench in a private waiting room. “I hated to wake her and bring her here but hated even more to not come with Tim. I suppose that’s selfish of me.”

Y/N shook her head while Sebastian scooped Milena up from the bench. “Not at all — you should be here. If there’s anything we can do …”

“Coming to get her is a huge help,” Alice sighed. Her eyes were puffy from a lack of sleep and from crying. “I thought I was going to lose him, you know. I’ve never been so scared in my life.”

Milena whimpered, holding tighter to Sebastian. All three of them focused on her for the moment, waiting to see if the whimpers would become full-on cries, but only a few seconds later, the little girl was asleep again. 

Alice brushed some hair away from Milena’s face. “Get her home and get her to sleep. I know you two have big plans coming up, and I’ll help where I can, but —”

“Don’t even think about it,” Y/N responded kindly, hugging Alice. “You take care of Tim. We’re all in this together, yeah?”

The older woman nodded and shed a few tears returning Y/N’s embrace. With one more reminder to call if they needed anything, Y/N followed Sebastian and Milena back out to the car. 

“Thank goodness you convinced me to keep a carseat in here,” Sebastian sighed. “I can’t imagine trying to figure that out at this hour and under the circumstances.”

Y/N gave him a tired smile. “Just being proactive is all — I’m here to help, remember? I’m doing what I’m here to do.”

Sebastian finished buckling Milena in, then turned to see Y/N still standing behind him. “I’ve buckled her in before, you know.”

“I know,” Y/N smirked, “but you’re also tired and a little worked up. Like I said, I’m here to help. I’m your backup, your support. If that has to be for something as little as getting her buckled into her seat, then so be it. Eventually you’ll learn the ropes and you won’t need me anymore, but for now …”

She trailed off with a shrug. Sebastian gave her half of a smile, gently squeezing her arm and kissing her forehead. 

The call from Philip came mid-morning, before any of them were awake. Sebastian scrambled to answer the phone before it woke Milena. 

When they had returned to his apartment, Milena was asleep in Sebastian’s bed for all of ten minutes before she woke up screaming. Nothing they could think of could console her; her eyes were open but it was almost as though she didn’t see them. It had taken over two hours to get her to calm down, when she finally fell asleep in Sebastian’s bed again, Y/N on one side of her and Sebastian on the other. The two adults had a hard time falling back asleep, waiting to see if the girl would have another episode. 

“Phil, hey, good morning,” Sebastian greeted, checking that both girls were still sleeping before he closed the bedroom door behind him. 

“I’ve got news,” the lawyer returned. “Apparently you’re already aware of Tim Hill’s medical emergency last night. Alice Hill’s lawyer contacted me this morning to tell me they’re filing a motion to delay the case. You’ll be granted temporary custody of Milena. They’re asking for visitation during this time, of course, but it doesn’t look like Tim’s going to be able to take care of himself, let alone help take care of a little girl, any time soon.”

Sebastian drew in a deep breath. “All right so … what happens next?”

“You have Milena now?”

“Yeah. We picked her up from the hospital last night.”

Philip paused. “As long as you allow them to see Milena within reason, we can move forward with legal guardianship, adoption — whatever you and Y/N would prefer. As a professional courtesy, we should keep their lawyer and the Hills informed, but the decision is up to you. There’s no reason why we can’t use this time to build your case.”

He yawned and rubbed a hand over his face, forcing himself to move toward the kitchen and start the coffee pot. “I should probably talk to Y/N/N about that, I suppose, since we’re getting married.”

“So that’s still a thing, huh?” Philip asked on a sigh. 

“Yes,” Sebastian chuckled, “it’s still a thing. I want to marry her, I’m going to marry her. I’ll talk to her when the girls are up and shoot you an email. Thanks for the update.”

“You’ll get my bill,” Philip teased. 

With a quiet chuckle, Sebastian disconnected the call and tossed his phone on the counter. The coffee started to brew, the smell drawing Y/N from bed and into the kitchen. 

“Morning,” she yawned. “You making coffee for one or two?”

“Two,” Sebastian smirked. “Milena still sleeping?”

Y/N nodded, covering another yawn with her hand. “Yeah, she’s out like a light. Lucky girl. We have to keep an eye on those terrors — maybe ask Alice if it’s happened before. Neither of us are working right now but eventually we will be. Not only do we need to sleep, but she’s going to have to stay behind and if we don’t get these issues under control now —”

“Philip called,” Sebastian interrupted, unable to listen to anything more about Milena’s potential issues, “because the Hills are putting off the custody battle. Tim’s going to be okay but he needs recovery time. As long as I — we — let them see her a reasonable amount, she’s mine. Ours. For the time being — uh, temporary custody, Phil said. I don’t — uh, we have a choice. We can do legal guardianship, we can adopt her. But since we’re getting married, we have to decide together what kind of a case we want to build.”

Y/N licked her lips and crossed her arms. “One tough subject to the next, huh?”

Sebastian rolled his eyes and turned to the cupboard to pull down two mismatched mugs. He filled both of them with coffee and handed one to Y/N. Neither of them said anything for several minutes. Finally, Y/N set the half-full cup of coffee on the counter and made for the doorway. 

“I’m gonna change and go for a run,” she said quietly. 

Sebastian set his own coffee down and caught up to her in the front room; he gripped her arm, turning her to face him. 

“We have to decide this!”

She wrenched her arm from his hold and pointed a stern finger at him. “No, Sebastian, you have to decide. I am going for a run.”

The door to the second bedroom slammed behind her. A few seconds later, Milena cried from Sebastian’s bed. With a sigh and a hand through his hair, Sebastian put on the happiest face he could muster and went to tend to his niece. 

Y/N ran until her legs would no longer push her to run. What she was running from, she had no idea but she suddenly felt as though the weight of the world was on her shoulders. Maybe because she and Sebastian had never had any sort of tension between them, let alone an actual argument. 

Not to mention, the strength with which she was feeling as if his life was her life was downright frightening. Sebastian was her friend, one of her best friends, but the impending wedding and ready-made family … 

“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, Kennedy,” Y/N confessed to her closest friend back in Los Angeles. She had stepped into a smoothie cafe to recharge before starting the run back to the apartment and, feeling panic set in, called her friend. 

Kennedy yawned. “Slow down, Y/N/N. I get that you’re up and going already, but we’re three hours behind you back here, remember?”

“Oh shit,” Y/N groaned. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking, just — just freaking out.”

“Okay, okay — like I said, slow down. First of all, I didn’t even expect for you to be gone for so long, and then you call me freaking out and I don’t even know — what’s going on out there?”

Y/N drew in a deep breath before she spilled out every detail over the next several minutes — about Sebastian, about Milena, about the wedding. About how scared she was to want what she was getting but wouldn’t be allowed to keep. 

“First of all, you need to take some deep breaths. Then, you’ve got to decide what you really want here. Sebastian is someone who I know means a lot to you, and I think you’re more concerned what all of this will do to your friendship as opposed to if you can take all of this on or how you’re gonna feel when it’s over.”

“You’re probably right,” Y/N sighed, leaning back in the booth. She took a long sip from her smoothie and swallowed it down. “Either way, I don’t want to lose him.”

Kennedy cleared her throat and yawned again. “I’m happy to support you through all of this, you know — in fact, I’m going to find the soonest flight out and try to make it for the wedding — but I really think you should talk to Sebastian about all of this. He’s probably just as overwhelmed as you are.”

“Yeah, I’ll talk to him. And Ken, you don’t have to come out for the wedding — it’s so last minute!”

“I’m gonna be there, so shut your mouth,” Kennedy chuckled. “Go talk to Sebastian, Y/N/N. Tell him what you’re feeling. You’ve been there for him through all of this and that’s great, but you still have to let him be a friend to you, too.”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks. Let me know when you’re coming in, I’ll get you from the airport.”

Kennedy promised she would keep Y/N informed about her flight, and they ended the call. Y/N finished off her smoothie and stretched a little, tucking her phone into her hoodie pocket and leaving an extra tip for the staff before taking off down the sidewalk again.

AllOfTheThings: @captain-s-rogers​ @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​ @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​ @hurricanerin​ @horsesandbandsforlife​ @im-not-an-armrest-im-short​ @captain-rogers-beard​ @shynara51​ @sea040561​ @pinknerdpanda​ @xtina2191​ @jackryanplz​ @beakami​ @heartsaved​ @fullprunerebelstatesman​ @blackwidowismyhomegirl​ @averyrogers83​ @jennmurawski13​ @connie326​

IYJR: @elsatxx​ @tanelle83​ @amanda-teaches​ @etherealwaifgoddess​ @kmuir1​ @ntlmundy​ @jayankles​ @rebekahdawkins​ @denise1605​ @rhadigen​ @peace-love-hobbitness​ @itsallyscorner​ @mizzzpink​ @auspiciousharriet​ @the-murder-strut-murdered-me​ @learisa​ @tellmewhatyouwill​

[fangirlauthor]

Hi, would you be willing to write something for Mako/Iroh II? If so, can I request the tag along to work prompt with Iroh needing to work with the RC police on something and Mako's co-workers figuring out they are dating? If not, sorry to bother you.

Absolutely anon! Thanks for sending a request :))) I’ll admit I don’t have much experience with the ship, so hopefully it’s good! (I got this right before bed, so it will have taken me a while to respond, sorry about the delay)

Minor warning for some minor death mentions (had to find something they needed to work together on, after all)

“Copy that.” the man turned, saluted, and stood waiting.

“Go ahead, soldier.”

“Sir, General Iroh the second, sir! The Republic City Police Department has requested your help with the recent series of murders.”

Iroh II sighed, and wished actively for both a name that did not require the clarification of “the second” (no matter how grateful he was for the honor it brought, it was still a pain) and soldiers that were just slightly calmer. Just slightly.

“I’ll head over immediately. And there’s no need to use my full name. Or two “sir”s for that matter. Thank you.”

“Yes, sir.” He turned and left, leaving Iroh II to his thoughts.

“Head for Republic City, captain. Once you drop me off, proceed as scheduled.”

“Yes, sir. Setting course now.”

----

Iroh II was wearing his nice uniform. Not that it mattered, of course. Well, more like it wasn’t for any out-of-the-ordinary, not-your-typical-reason reason. It was an important visit. Important clothes for an important visit. That was all.

Still, Mako couldn’t stop grinning.

He knew Iroh II had worn it for him.

----

“Looks like Cause of Death was asphyxiation, possibly some sort of necklace or tie was used to strangle the person from behind.”

“Has anything come back from forensics yet?” The sound of gloves snapping as they were pulled onto hands, and Mako felt, instead of saw, the presence of Iroh II next to him.

“Nothing from the bigger tests. Preliminary results, and details found at the crime scene,” Mako gestured at the area around them. “Indicate a similar perpetrator, but fingerprint dusting and others haven’t come back yet.”

“So nothing substantial.”

Mako shook his head, still determined not to look at Iroh II. “Nope. Nothing substantial.”

“Sir!” Mako and Iroh II turned together, rising from their crouched positions to look at the young officer. “Er, sirs. Someone’s just called in another death - sounds like the same person.”

“Is it far?” Iroh II asked, and this time Mako did look. This time he couldn’t look away.

“Is that alright with you?” Iroh II was asking.

“Yes, of course.” Mako hadn’t quite caught what was said, but he had a general idea of what was going on. He knew he and Iroh II were heading to the next scene while forensics finished up here; he could ask Iroh II to fill him in on the way.

They still hadn’t told many people they were dating. The Fire Family knew, and the Krew knew, but they still weren’t a public couple. Both were fine with being one, when it came down to it- they just didn’t feel like actively announcing it (“Hello, we’re dating.”) was the best use of their time.

But that didn’t matter right now. What mattered was the ever-increasing number of murder cases popping up in Republic City - all with increasingly obvious clues linking them together. The way the victims were killed, for one - but also little things, like which district. They hadn’t found anything that hinted at the identity of the killer; that’s why Iroh II was here. He was military, yes, but a brilliant detective as well; they were lucky to have him here.

They got in the police satomobile, the doors clicking as they shut. A metal partition was between them and the driver, weight somewhere between thick and thin.

“What is it we are heading to do?” Mako his head over, nearer Iroh II, and couldn’t stop himself from grinning when their eyes met.

“I knew it. I knew you weren’t paying attention.” Iroh II grinned, eyes full to the brim with quiet laughter.

“Yeah, I know. Not the best move.” A pause. “Are you going to answer?”

Iroh II laughed. “Nope. You’ll have to figure it out once we get where we’re going.”

Mako glared, and Iroh II glared back. Light, playful glares that had no real weight behind them.

“I know you’re kidding. Stop pulling my leg.”

“I’m not kidding. You’re really going to have to figure it out.”

Another pause, then another grin split Mako’s face. “You weren’t listening either.”

It wasn’t a question, but Iroh II still opened his mouth in defense, his fish-out-of-water expression eliciting another hearty laugh from Mako, and a sigh from Iroh II.

“We are incredible detectives.”

“The best,” Iroh II agreed.

----

“Sirs. The scene is this way. Spare gloves and shoe covers are there, in case you don’t have any on you.”

The easy mirth from earlier dampened by work, Iroh and Mako dutifully headed over to grab shoe covers - both of them had brought gloves of their own.

“Anything different about this one, officer?”

The young officer leading them up the stairs shook her head. “No, General. Cause of death appears to be asphyxiation, but beyond that it’s hard to say. Forensics is still finishing up at the last scene.”

Mako saw Iroh II nod, and felt himself nodding as well. Neither of them had suspected it would be different from the other deaths, but it was still unfortunate that it was confirmed.

Sighing, Mako climbed the stairs, the presence of Iroh II behind him comforting. This case wasn’t going to go away quickly, no matter how much he wished - or didn’t - that it would.

----

“We’ll notify you both immediately when - if - something comes up. Have a good evening, General. Detective.”

Mako and Iroh II nodded at the officer before heading out. Despite the recent murders and the weight death carried, they’d arranged to eat at a pasta place nearby, one Mako loved spending time at. Bustling and homely, the warm light that seeped through the front windows always drew people to it like moths. Had drawn him, when he was younger. Still did.

“So,” Iroh II smiled. “This is one of your favorite restaurants, correct?”

Mako shook his head in disbelief. He had mentioned that months ago, back when they’d first started dating, as part of the get-to-know-you process. He couldn’t believe Iroh II had remembered it. “Yes. Lots of people’s favorites, actually.”

“Well. It’s special to you, so I’m sure I’ll love it.”

Mako rolled his eyes and grinned, linking his hand in Iroh II’s. “I’m sure you will.”

----

Two hours, several platefuls of food, and a baguette later, Mako and Iroh II headed home for the night. They walked hand in hand, letting their joyful laughs echo, grins lingering on their faces long after they fell asleep.

----

Walking into the police department next morning was like jumping into frigid water.

“Hey, Mako. Happy for you,” said an officer.

“I think it’s great, man,” said another. Everyone else he passed uttered some variation of the phrase, leaving him with a bewildered expression etched onto his face.

The minute he got near Lin - Iroh II was with her - he said, “What-”

“When were you going to tell us you two were dating?” demanded Lin, hands on her hips in what he hoped was designed as an ironic gesture.

Mako glanced at Iroh II, finding him looking nervous but steady. “Uh, soon?”

“Well,” she stared. “I’m happy for you two, but if it starts to interfere with your work here, we’ll have a problem.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said both Mako and Iroh II at the same time.

They turned to each other, grinning fiendishly. They hadn’t been expecting everyone to find out this way, but each could tell the other was happy everything was out in the open.

“You know,” said Iroh II, grinning. “We really shouldn’t let it interfere with work.”

Mako grinned back, but he knew his boyfriend too well to not see that behind the grin, he was dead serious. “I know, and don’t worry. We won’t let it.”

A different grin appeared on Iroh II’s face, and this one, Mako knew, was hiding nothing. He grinned back. And got to work.

[pengy-pop]

Unfinished Writing #1: Bederia

Context for this piece was to be mostly a headcanon romp and to show of what the dynamic of my own interpretation of adult years Bederia would be like. It got to be too long and had not much happening in it, and When I realised I didn’t know exactly where I wanted to go with it; I got unfortunately bored of it rather quickly.

But, I hope you’re maybe able to find something interesting in here, anyway!

enjoy!

Gloria was having a bad day.

It started the moment she woke up that morning to find that her boltund had gotten into her pokefood supplies at some point during the night and, after gorging themselves on around a quarter of the giant bag of food meant to feed six pokemon for 5 weeks; had then proceeded to regurgitate it all up in her bathroom and was forced to clean it up and make sure the criminal boltund was alright at around six o’clock in the morning. She dropped her shower head on her foot while taking her morning shower and slipped and fell on the tiles while picking it up, and she knew she was going to be seeing a nasty bruise somewhere on her body later because of it.

Then, as she was preparing her breakfast; she found out the weather forcasted for rain and thunderstorms; on the day she was supposed to be meeting up with her friends for a long-awaited lunch they’d been planning at one of their regular spots. She accidentally burnt her toast while thinking about it, and dropped an egg on the floor while she was trying to cook two.

Then, she had gotten the call from Hop.

“Uh, so, me and Marnie won’t be able to make it to lunch today.” Hop’s voice was hesitant, fast, and apologetic; and Gloria swallowed thickly as she heard loud noises in the background of the call.

“How come? Did something happen?” There was a stern female voice in the background, followed by a loud crash, and Gloria winced.

Morpeko must be having another outburst.

“Yeahhh, you could say that, mate. Just-uh-I’m really sorry, Gloria, If we can get this solved quickly I can-”

“No, no, it’s okay! It sounds like theres a lot happening there. Did you two…Need any extra help?” She chewed her bottom lip, anxiously. Hop’s answer was immediate.

“No! No, it’s alright! You just go on ahead without us! Tell, uh—Tell Bede we said hey; and—oh, right—ask him if he’s planning on RSVP’ing anytime soon, we need to finalise our numbers.” Gloria nodded, before realising Hop wouldn’t be able to see her answer.

“Sure; and you’re absolutely sure you guys don’t need any help?” A hiss was heard.

“Positive, Gloria. Besides, you know how annoying Bede gets when plans change suddenly. I gotta go, but i’ll call you later, okay?”

“Alright, good luck calming Morpeko.” Hop snorted on the other line, and she could practically hear the grin in his voice.

“Thanks, mate! Catch you later! Sorry again!” As soon as he hung up; Gloria felt her stomach twist with a sick emotion she’d found herself becoming all-too-familiar with lately, and, with a defeated sigh, she collapsed back onto her couch, mindlessely flicking on the tv for white noise.

Gloria prayed that the rest of her day wasn’t as awful as her morning was.

                                                           —————————

The rest of the day wasn’t much better.

After later sending Bede a message of the change of plans; she stepped in a large puddle almost as soon as she exited her apartment complex, splashing water over herself, leaving her legs cold and wet as she made her way to the cafe. She shook off her umbrella, stepping inside, and was greeted by a waiter and an indeedee; who escorted her to a booth seat after she gave them her reservation name.

A booth meant to fit four people.

With a heavy sigh, Gloria all but collapsed down onto the seat, letting her head fall back against the cushioned seat. As she turned her head to look out to the rainy street, unsurprisingly bustling despite the rain. While normally Gloria would be eager to see her friends, she was, instead, thankful that Bede wasn’t there yet.  

It wasn’t because she hated Bede though, or anything of the sort, really. In fact; her problem wasn’t that she wanted to be away from him; it was that whenever she was around him, she wanted him alarmingly close. It was something she could handle if they were surrounded by others, usually; since there were others to distract her; but when it was just the two of them, alone, it became much more troublesome. She’d become hyper-aware of his presence at all times, any time he’d look her in the eyes or say her name she would find herself heating up, stomach would fill with butterflies, her fingers would twitch and frequently find she wanted to shove herself into his personal space. Wanted to grab his face in her hands and Do something.

She wasn’t sure what, exactly, she would even do, though. Pinch his cheeks, maybe? contort his mouth into an awkward smile like she used to do when they were kids?

….Kiss him?

Gloria exhaled, closing her eyes. There had come a certain point in Gloria’s life where she had to admit to herself that, yes, she did have a crush on Bede. It had just hit her one day, when they were talking together during a camping trip with Hop and Marnie. the latter were off cooking while her and Bede had sat together, playing with their pokemon and idly debating over something. It was a little heated, sure, but most of their conversations were; and they were having fun, nonetheless. Mid-debate; Gloria’s boltund had bounded up to Bede with a happy huff and plopped themselves down right on his lap, bringing a pause to their conversation as Bede looked down at the dog, then Gloria, with an expression halfway between bewildermant and offense. She had laughed, and he had let out an indignant huff; before he relaxed and, surprising her, he reached down to scratch behind the dog’s ears. And she wasn’t sure what exactly it was; but all to quickly, her world had come crashing down on top of her and all that was left in her brain as she watched her boltund melt into Bede’s touch and he, in turn, let out a sound; a gentle, amused sigh; his face soft in a way she’d only ever seen a few rare times; was four words.

“Oh. I like him.”

And; well, really, it had all just been downhill from there for Gloria. Her fondness for him only grew; and Slowly, over the years, he’d been letting her in more and more, letting her see far beyond what was on the surface.

She found him endearing; despite everything. Deeply flawed, but endearing nonetheless. However, she wasn’t sure where to even begin when it came to approaching Bede about the subject. He had never expressed much desire or interest in pursuing any sort of romantic relationship. At least, none that she herself had ever seen. And Bede was, to put it simply, a very private and closed-off person, and much like a stray cat; one wrong move and he’d be spooked off; potentially forever; and that was the last thing she wanted to happen.

But, oh did she want to love him so badly. There was so much she wanted. She wanted to talk and laugh with Bede, hold his hand in hers; hug him and not be shoved unceremoniously off him, she wanted to kiss him all over his face and instead of him grimacing, she wanted him to smile and kiss her back. She’d like to spend the night with him, eating dinner with him, having those conversations with him that always somehow seemed to devolve into semi-heated debates because their differing ideas until they both inevitably passed out together.

Gloria was so deep in her pining for Bede that it was frustrating her now; because as much as she just wanted to blurt out how she felt, she knew that it would lead to nothing good. She’d always made the mistake of running her mouth; hell, she STILL frequently made that mistake, but this was the one thing she wasn’t completely willing to let fall apart in front of her. No, she’d come too far with Bede at this point and she outright refused to lose his friendship. So for once in her life; she would bite down on her tongue.

Because she’s not quite sure she could handle losing Bede from her life; no matter how frustrating it was for her to swallow how much she felt for him.

There was a noise, and she felt something on her shoulder, shaking her. Gloria eyes snapped open, her vision blurry for a few moments as they readjusted to the light flooding in again as she looked around, confused.

How long had she been zoning out? Had she fallen asleep?

“Ah, there you are. Rather unwise of you to fall asleep in a public place like this, Gloria.” Gloria’s eyes fell on Bede, standing beside her booth, shiny spritzee hovering around him out of the corner of her eye as she caught the last moments of him removing his hand from her shoulder, and she stared dumbly up at him for a few seconds.

Oh. Bede was here now.

“You’re here.” Bede scoffed, shaking his head as he took his seat across from her in the booth.

“Astute observation.” His eyes fell on her for a brief moment as he reached for the menu that sat in front of him. “I apologise for my being tardy. the weather caused some delays.”

“You were late?” She scrambled for her rotom phone; and, sure enough, he was about fifteen minutes late. “Oh. It’s okay. I didn’t even notice.”

“Of course you didn’t; you were passed out. I doubt you even received my message.” Gloria switched to her messaging app. Oh. He had left her a message earlier, stating that he may be arriving late.

“Ah. Oops.” Bede hummed non-committedly in return, looking over the menu; his left hand over his mouth in that stupidly endearing thoughtful pose of his.

“I take you haven’t even ordered yet?” Gloria realised she hadn’t even picked up the menu herself yet, and she fumbled to do so, her face feeling familarly warm and her palms beginning to sweat.

“Nope. Was waiting for you.” It didn’t take her long to decide on what she wanted; and Bede didn’t respond; so she instead took that time to look at Bede across from her as his focus lay on his own menu.

There was something different…

She squinted, leaning forward a bit. There was definitely something different about him. Bede took notice of her expression, lilac eyes flicking up to her, confusion knitted his features.

“What on earth are you staring at—”

“—Did you get a haircut?” Bede’s eyes widened a little, and Gloria knew she’d hit the nail on the head. She leaned back again into her chair, smiling. Truthfully, it wasn’t a big change. She had just noticed that he had gotten his curls trimmed a little on the nape of his neck. But it looked nice on him, regardless.

“I…yes, I did, actually.” His eyes flicked away from her, and Gloria’s smile grew wider. “I’m rather surprised you noticed, actually. You’re the first one to do so today.”

“‘Course I noticed! Looks good; looks handsome!” Bede’s face snapped immediately snapped back to look at hers, his eyes wide and shocked; and Gloria would have slapped herself right then if she could have.

“—For, uh, you know! It’s—uh, appropriate! Like—like Ballonlea’s gym leader ‘ought look good, right? Opal always used to say presentation was important, yeah?” She fumbled through her words, and she could feel the eyes of both Bede and his spritzee on her. His Spritzee, in particular, hovered over her, her bright yellow eyes staring straight through her. “I…I just think you look…nice…” Her words peetered out pathetically as she sunk a little into her seat. Bede’s gaze upon her was incredulous; and she would have normally delighted in the way his pale cheeks were flushed red if she wasn’t so embarrassed herself. After what felt like a century; Bede finally looked away from her, clearing his throat awkawrdly.

“…Right. Well; shall we order?” Gloria nodded fervently as she lifted her hand to hail down a waiter. As the two ordered their food and drinks, Bede went off on a tangent about his most recent auditions at Ballonlea, and Gloria sat and listened to his every haughty, smug word, thankful that he hadn’t chosen to comment further on her earlier stumble.

                                                         ———————

It was halfway through her meal, and after she’d taken a much-too-large bite of her sandwich, that Gloria remembered what Hop had asked of her that morning. Her cheeks too stuffed to say anything, Gloria instead waved her hand in front of Bede’s face to get his attention.

“Mmf—Hey, Bede—”

“Chew and swallow before speaking, Gloria; you’re not a toddler.” He scrunched up his nose in that cute way he always did as he looked at her with mild disgust. Gloria rolled her eyes; but did take a moment longer to actually chew and swallow her mouthful. With and exhale, she quickly took a gulp of her drink, ignoring the sigh of disappointment that Bede, and finally turned back up to look at him again.

“Hop wanted to know if you were gonna RSVP for the wedding or not.” The mention of the wedding caused Bede to tense, and he carefully put down his utensils.

“I…Haven’t yet made a decision.”

“Why not? S’not like you’re the one getting married.”

“Yes, but Gloria what you don’t understand is that I do not particularly want to attend their wedding.”

“Why? They’re our friends; we should be there on their big day.” Bede opened his mouth to say something, but Gloria continued. “—And they ARE both of our friends, we are PAST trying to deny this.” Bede closed his mouth again with a sigh. “—So theres really no reason for you to have put it off for so long.”

[itsafanficthing]

My Sassenach - Choices

It's been a second, hasn't it?! Sorry for the delay. It was a mixture of things. 1. I didn't write anything. 2. I wrote something, hated it and deleted it. 3. I wrote something and sat on it for a while, unsure if I was happy with it. 4. I went on vacation. 5. I got sick and cracked a rib. 6. I'm back and ready to post.

I hope you enjoy :)

Link for A03 is here

Try as she might, Claire could not stop thinking about her first date with Jamie. Specifically how the date had ended. In bed. Naked. Which was an issue because she was meant to be doing her rounds on the ward and her mind continued to wander. Thinking about Jamie. His hands. His mouth. His unbridled enthusiasm. The memory was good, certainly, but Claire couldn’t wait to see him again and do it all over again. Refresh her memory as it were.

The old woman cleared her throat bringing Claire’s mind back to what she was doing. She had the chart in her hands, her pen hovering over the spot she was supposed to write the blood pressure. Except that the screen was now blank and Claire, for the life of her, couldn’t remember the numbers.

“That doesn’t seem right,” she mumbled, hoping to sound like she had been thinking deeply over the numbers, rather than lost in her own imagination (the way Jamie’s fingers danced across her skin, the way the sweat gathered at his hairline, the joy on his face as he collapsed beside her).

“I might just try it again,” she said a little louder to her patient. Claire flicked the machine back to life and watched as the cuff swelled on the patient's arm. Her eyes flicked up to the screen and she told herself that she would focus and memorise the numbers. She wouldn’t think about the way that the muscles in Jamie’s stomach contracted when she ran her hands down his body feeling the coarse, springy hair on his chest. Or the way that he had fallen asleep next to her, a quirk of his mouth that told her that he was happy, or at the very least- satisfied.

129/80. Claire blinked clearing her head and she quickly wrote down the numbers from the screen.

“That’s what it was a’fore, when ye first took it,” the old woman said as Claire removed the cuff from her arm.

“It’s a bit high, I wanted to make sure,” Claire explained, glad that she had double checked. 129/80 was quite high and she might need to talk to one of the doctors about giving the old woman something.

“Can I get you anything? A cup of tea? Another blanket?” Claire asked as she hung up the board and packed away the machine ready to wheel it back out of the room.

“Aye, a cuppa would be grand,” the old woman grumbled. Claire couldn’t remember her patients the name, despite the fact that she had just been looking at her chart.

“Of course. I’ll be back in a moment.” Claire wheeled the cart out of the room, parking it out of the way before taking a deep breath and shaking her head. ‘Get a grip, Beauchamp.’

Her date with Frank had gone exactly how Jamie had said and now Claire was anxious to see Jamie again. Unfortunately her working schedule seemed to have other ideas and she was posted on evening shifts for the remainder of the week.

Jamie had replied to her message after her date with Frank with a not so subtle “told you so” and Claire wasn’t particularly looking forward to having him rub it in her face. Though she was looking forward to seeing him again and hopefully making whatever they were, a thing. An official thing.

Claire returned to the patient's room (Mrs Harland) with a cup of tea before plopping herself back down at the nurses station and rubbing her eyes.

“Ye alright pet?” The voice of Claire’s best friend said from above her.

“I’m fine. Just tired,” Claire answered, keeping her head in her hands.

“Weel, by my watch ye’ve still got another two hours left in yer shift and ye have’na yet told me about yer date.”

“Oh, that,” Claire grunted as she looked up her friend who was watching her carefully.

“Aye, that. What happened?”

“Well,” Claire drew out the word as she sighed. “His name was Frank,” Claire said as Geillis nodded eagerly. “And it went about as well as it would go with someone named Frank,” Claire finished while Geillis cackled with laughter. “Not that there’s anything wrong with the name Frank,” Claire continued as her put her head in her hands. “I don’t know… He just… he called me “Darling”. We’d only just met for goodness sake, and he called me “Darling”.”

Geillis (uncharacteristically) wasn’t saying anything, but her grin spread from ear to ear.

“I suppose you want all the gory details then?” Claire asked as she raised her head to look at her friend.

“Aye, o’ course I do. This is what happens when I’m in a relationship and ye’re single. I can live vicariously through ye, and cringe at all yer atrocious date stories.” Gellis drew out the chair next to Claire with a flourish and plopped herself down as the springs in the ancient chair squeaked. “Go-on then, I’m ready.”

Claire rubbed a hand over her face as she groaned. “Well, I was late” she began before Geillis immediately cut her off.

“Yer never late!” She exclaimed in surprise. “Ye’ll turn up early to yer own funeral.”

“I know, not exactly the best start to a date,” Claire shook her head before she continued. “We saw a movie, he’s a teacher… no, a historian and it just… there wasn’t really a spark. I made a joke, and you know, it wasn’t overly hilarious, but then I had to explain it to him, and it just… there was no flow. Anyway, we saw a movie, which was fine and then we went and had a coffee afterward and…” Claire paused as she tried to pinpoint exactly what was wrong with the date with Frank.

“What happened when ye went for coffee? Why did ye even go for coffee if ye kent the date was’na goin’ that weel?” Geillis interrupted Claire’s thoughts.

“I went because… well, we hadn’t really talked very much and I wanted to make sure that I wasn’t missing something.”

“Ye said that there was no spark, did ye ken that before or after the coffee?”

“After for sure, but… I suppose I knew it at the start. I just didn’t want to be to hasty in making a judgement before I had actually spoken with him,” Claire explained.

“But ye’ve got yer other lad. Why go on a date in the first place? There’s already a spark there isn’t there? Or is that no more?” Geillis pressed, and Claire looked up at her friend in surprise.

Claire hadn’t told Geillis about the date with Frank until she needed to, and clearly Geillis had many more thoughts on the matter than Claire had expected.

“I told you, I don’t like cancelling plans,” Claire answered hesitantly.

“I dinna believe that for a momen’. Ye dinna like cancelling plans,” Geillis scoffed sarcastically. “That’s not a good enough excuse, Claire, and ye ken it.”

Claire opened her mouth to respond before closing it again. No, it wasn’t the only reason she had agreed to go on the date. Yes, she had been the one to respond to Frank and set up the date and it would have looked bad for her to pull out the day before, but it wouldn’t have been the worst thing in the world. Maybe if they had gone on several dates before that one and she had found someone else, then yes, she would owe him the courtesy of a date or a meeting to at least explain that it would be the last time they saw each other. But this was a first date. People cancelled first dates all the time, Claire had been the recipient of a few late cancellations but for some reason she had followed through with this one. Despite Jamie’s obvious discomfort with it. Despite Geillis’ surprise when Claire told her about it. Despite Claire’s own misgivings about meeting someone new when she knew that she would only be thinking about Jamie. Why was it so important for her to go on a date with Frank Randall?

Geillis suddenly let out a noise of understanding and Claire looked back her friend who was in turn studying Claire quite intently.

“What?”

“Yer scared,” Geillis answered confidently, leaning forward on her chair as if to emphasize her point. “Yer scared that yer putting all yer eggs into one basket wi’ this other lad, who has actually seen you for you.”

“Geillis, that’s not-” Claire began before Geillis waved her off.

“Yer scared that ye might feel something for this other lad, what’s his name?”

“Jamie,” Claire supplied quietly.

“Jamie, aye, ye might feel something for Jamie, and so ye immediately went lookin’ for a way to sabotage whatever ye have with him.” Gellis sat back proudly and waited for Claire to respond to her diagnosis. When Claire didn’t say anything, Geillis said “thought so” quietly, causing Claire to frown at her.

“Yes alright. Christ. It is scary. This thing with Jamie is much, much more than I ever thought it would be and when I saw him with another woman, I panicked.”

“Ye saw him with another woman?” Geillis sat up quickly and nearly fell off her chair.

“It was his sister,” Claire waved off the question and was about to continue when Geillis interrupted her again.

“His sister? He told ye that?”

“We had dinner, and it came up and … and...” Claire stuttered before she was interrupted by Geillis again.

“Let me get this right. Ye saw Jamie with another lass, so ye organised a date with another lad. Then it turned out to be his sister, and ye followed through on this other date because yer scared about what ye feel for Jamie, and so ye thought that going on a date with someone else would what, change how ye felt?” Geillis summarised the past few days of Claire’s life with frightening accuracy.

“Well it sounds bad when you say it like that,” Claire groaned as she covered her face in her hands.

“It does’na matter how I say it pet, it is bad. Yer a right daft numpty, aren’t ye?”

“Yes, I know, it was a mistake.” Claire’s voice was muffled from behind her hands but she didn’t dare show Geillis how red her face was as it burned with shame.

“It’s more than a mistake Claire. Christ. Yer supposed to be a functioning adult, and this is the stuff of… of girls… of people that dinna ken how their actions affect other people. I’ve seen toddlers with better cognitive reasoning than ye right now.”

“I know.”

“Do ye? Jamie kent about this other date?”

“Yes, we spoke about it. It’s how I found out that he was with his sister and not some other woman.”

“And he was alright with ye seein’ another man?”

“Well, no, not exactly,” Claire answered hesitantly.

“And that wasn’t enough to cancel yer date with this other lad?” Geillis practically screeched at Claire. “Christ! If he still wants to see ye now he’s either a complete eejit or totally taken wi’ ye to the point that he��ll act like an eejit.”

Claire didn’t know how to respond and rather than incriminate herself further, chose to remain silent.

“Yer scared about what ye feel for Jamie,” Geillis clarified as Claire nodded stiffly in response. “So ye led this other lad on, in the hope of distractin’ yerself from what you feel. Jesus, Claire. What if it had gone well? Then where would ye be?”

“Well, it didn’t. So that’s not so much of a worry anymore.”

“It certainly is still a worry. Now ye’ve got to explain to this other lad that ye dinna want to see him any more, and puir Jamie is probably goin’ out of his mind wonderin’ if something minor ever happens between the two of ye, that ye’ll go straight out lookin’ for another lad. Did ye not think of any of this?” Geillis rubbed her forehead as if she was trying to banish a persistent headache while Claire chewed her thumbnail nervously.

“I’ve spoken to Jamie,” She said quietly as Geillis looked at her skeptically. “We’ll work it out. If… if what we have is on the same page as each other, then I’ll delete the app.”

“Ye think that will be enough?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Christ Claire!” Geillis exclaimed almost jumping out of her chair and making Claire flinch. “Yer one of the smartest people I ken, but yer verra stupid sometimes.” Without waiting for a response, Geillis continued, “Ye went straight to another man when ye got spooked. Datin’ Apps are’na the only way of meeting people.”

“But I’m not like that, I don’t go hooking up with random men on the street,” Claire defended.

“Aye, I ken that, but I’ve also known ye for nigh on 14 years. Ye’ve known Jamie for all of three weeks, ye think he kens that about ye?”

Claire once again opened her mouth to respond, but realising that she didn’t really know what to say, she shut it again.

“Yer an absolute numpty, ye ken that, don’t ye?” Geillis said with a sigh as Claire nodded in agreement. “When are ye seein’ Jamie again?”

“I'm working evening’s all week. Not till Saturday.”

“Thank god ye’ve got time then. I hope ye’ve got a hell of an apology speech prepared for him, not to mention the one ye’ll need to give to this Frank lad for leading him on.”

“I didn’t lead him on,” Claire quickly defended as Geillis rolled her eyes.

“Ye organised and went on a date with him, and went to get coffee with the lad. Ye led him on.”

“But I haven’t contacted him since the date,” Claire tried to reason.

“From yesterday? Ye have’na contacted him since yesterday? Weel, yer a bloody saint then aren’t ye?” Geillis said sarcastically.

“I’m not saying that!”

“Aye, but ye are’na takin’ responsibility for goin’ on this other date when ye kent it was the wrong decision.”

“I didn’t realise that you had such strong feelings about me dating Jamie,” Claire grumbled, crossing her arms across her chest.

“I saw ye after yer date with the lad. Ye were different, and I’m seeing ye now after yer other date. There’s a difference and ye’ve royally fucked up between the two of them.”

“I thought that the whole point of dating was to see what was out there.”

“Aye, but when ye find what is out there, ye dinna go and make plans with somethin’ else. Ye get together wi’ what ye found.” Geillis sounded exasperated with Claire, and Claire’ couldn’t really blame her.

It had been her fear that had made her reach out to Frank. Her fear that she was too invested in Jamie. Her fear that he was seeing another woman. Her fear that this new relationship, or whatever it was with Jamie was a match, not a bonfire. Something that would strike and burn brightly, but disappear soon after. She wanted a slow burn, the burn that would keep her warm for years to come and it was the fear of losing it, and if she was really honest with herself, of actually having that kind of relationship that made her make stupid, impulsive decisions. She was stupid for going on the date with Frank, rather than just cancelling it, she was stupid for stringing Jamie along and she was stupid for thinking that she was meant to keep looking, even after she was sure she had found what she wanted with Jamie.

“It’s not just you, Claire. Ye brought other people into yer life, ye invited them in and they are affected by yer decisions,” Geillis said softly.

“I know,” Claire sighed. “I didn’t realise that you were so invested in all of this, invested in me.”

“Yer my best friend, I care about ye and who yer seeing. But I’m also the kind of person that’s going to call ye out on yer bullshit when yer sabotaging yer own happiness. And that’s exactly what yer doing.”

“So I should be thankful for this verbal smackdown then?”

“Aye, ye should always be thankful for a conversation wi’ me.”

The two women sat in silence for a moment, both lost in their own thoughts before Geillis spoke again.

“What do ye think Jamie is goin’ to say?”

Claire shrugged. “I don’t know. We made plans to see each other, but… who knows if he’ll want anything to do with me, knowing that I am a complete ass.”

“Weel, havin’ seen yer arse, pet, I’m sure he’ll want a little more of ye,” Geillins grinned cheekily.

“Charming,” Claire snorted as she rolled her eyes.

“Just… dinna be making any more rash decisions, talk to Jamie, like an adult and make a decision from there. Ye also need to contact this other lad, Frank, terrible name, and let him down easy. He might have had a good time wi’ ye and it’s better to be honest wi’ him now, rather than leave it and leave him wonderin’ what happened. Edinburgh is remarkably small sometimes and ye dinna want to be runnin’ into him on the street, caught unawares.”

“A wealth of knowledge as always Geillis,” Claire said with a sigh as she stood up and stretched her legs, ready to complete the next rounds of her patients.

“Aye, older, wiser, better lookin’,” Gellis listed dramatically before also standing and looking over her charts.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Claire laughed before she headed down the hall, grinning, but also with a thousand thoughts running through her mind. Geillis had brought up some things that Claire had tried very hard to ignore. What to do about Frank and how the hell was she supposed to apologise to Jamie?

--

The week simultaneously dragged and moved faster than Claire anticipated. She was eager to see Jamie and in those moments the days dragged by as Claire checked her watch, waiting for the day to end to be one day closer to him.

Other times she was petrified of seeing him, not knowing what she was supposed to say to him and at those times the clock took on a life of its own and the day was done before she’d really had a chance to process it.

She and Jamie had been texting back and forth- It wasn’t complete radio silence. Jamie (thankfully) hadn’t brought up the other date and Claire had been steering clear of any conversation that would discuss what exactly they were.

Frank had sent her a message on the dating app two days after their date. Claire hadn’t replied. She didn’t know what she was supposed to say. She also hadn’t deleted the application. She wanted to do that in front of Jamie. A symbolic gesture to show that she was committed to whatever they were.

She knew that she would have to bite the bullet and message Frank back, but what the fuck was she meant to say to him?

-I had a really nice time with you, I can’t wait to see you again.-

The message from Frank felt like it was burning a hole in every pair of pants she owned when she put her phone in her pocket. She knew that it would be a simple message and she knew that she was definitely making a bigger deal out of her reply than she needed too but none of that helped her actually compose a message.

Friday night, the end of her work week, her last evening shift, saw her sitting on her couch in her light blue scrubs, thumbs hovering over the screen on an empty message to Frank. Throughout the week she had decided that she needed to reply to him before her date with Jamie. Jamie needed to see that there wasn’t going to be anyone else on her standby list while they discovered… whatever it was that they were.

-Hi Frank.-

The blinking cursor taunted her as she tried to figure out what to say next.

-I had a nice time on Monday-

Claire paused. She’d already led the man on once, did that sentence open him up to more hope. Claire deleted the sentence.

-Thank you for the movie on Monday.-

Good lord. She sounded so formal. Was she breaking up with a business acquaintance?

-Despite the good time we had on Monday I think it would be best if we didn’t see each other again-

Fucking hell. It sounded like she was being held for ransom by someone.

Claire closed the app and googled “how to break up with someone on an app”. Fuck it. If google couldn’t help her she was screwed.

After reading several articles and pulling a few ideas together she crafted her text.

-Hi Frank, thanks for the movie and coffee the other night. I’ve given it some thought and while I enjoyed talking with you, I don’t think that we should see each other again. I hope your deep dive into Scottish history is as rewarding as you made it sound. Wish you all the best. Claire.-

Claire tweaked, poked and prodded the message until she was finally happy with it. Taking a deep breath (and a few shots of her very expensive, supposedly delicious whisky that made her gag) she pressed send.

There. It was done. She was as polite as she could be and she’d done it. She didn’t know why she was so scared about sending that one message. She’d sent messages to men that she didn’t want to see before. Although most other dates she had been on had either been so terrible she didn’t mind shutting them down, or they both hadn’t felt a spark or anything close to a spark and had never contacted each other again.

There was nothing completely wrong with her date with Frank Randall, it was just that there wasn’t anything that was totally right with it either.

Claire almost leapt off her couch as her phone vibrated next to her.

A message from Jamie. Goodness why was she so jumpy?

-What’s the plan for tomorrow?-

Claire had put a lot of thought into her date with Jamie on Saturday. Or rather, she had put a lot of thought into the end of the date, she just hadn’t planned the before part… the actual date.

-Dinner at mine?- Claire suggested. She could make dinner. It was only fair. He had made dinner for her last week, besides she needed to impress him someway- try and butter him up before she apologised and they had “the” talk.

Claire waiting impatiently for Jamie to reply, flicking aimlessly between apps (Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, Instagram, back to Facebook, Tumblr, Facebook and so on).

Finally Jamie responded, she gave him her address and then that was that.

Claire sat on her couch, restless. She was tired after her week of evening shifts and her talk with Geillis had left her somewhat rattled. It called up a lot of the thoughts that Claire had been forcibly trying to ignore about herself. That at the core of herself, as much as she wanted to be confident, she was not. When all those layers were stripped away though, she was scared- she was terrified of being alone. Thank you unresolved grief from childhood. The death of her parents had really done a number on her.

The thing that terrified her the most about Jamie is that she felt more like herself then she had in a long time when she was with him and she didn’t really know him that well. There was just something about him that made her want to show him who she was- And that was fucking terrifying.

Geillis had said that she’d known Claire for 14 years, and that was right, but it was only in the last three years that Claire had really opened herself up to her friend.

Claire had known Jamie for three weeks and she wanted to tell him about her whole life, things that had taken Geillis years and years and years to get out of her.

Claire wanted to impress Jamie. There was something about him that made her want to do better- to be better- and still she went on a date with someone else.

Trust. Claire struggled with the concept of trusting people. The people that she trusted, left, and quite quickly at that. First her parents in the accident, then her fourth grade best friend that suddenly decided she didn’t want to be Claire’s friend anymore. Her first boyfriend, Aaron, who Claire thought would be her husband (the naivety of a 16 year old) who decided that Claire’s friend Katherine was a much better fit for him. They’d been married for almost four years, so he was probably correct in thinking that, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt. Then her Uncle Lamb. Cancer was meant to be a slow death, Claire was supposed to have time to say goodbye, but he was gone far too quickly for her to even process that he had gone when she was putting him in the ground.

So what was it about Jamie that made her want to impress him and tell him every gory aspect of her fucked up life? Why did she want him to see everything that she was and (dare she think it) love her anyway?

Every other date that she’d had with that stupid app, she had dressed up, straightened her hair, worn clothing she could hardly breathe in, let alone eat in and tried to impress them, and nothing worked. Nothing made her want to, for the want of a better word, expose herself and show who she truly was.

Maybe it was just the fact that she went on the first date with Jamie as herself, no fancy frills, no suit of armour and he decided that it was enough (more than enough) for him.

Although, by that logic- she had also gone on the date with Frank as “herself” and that didn’t turn out so well. She even told him about her memories of her parents, something she hardly ever spoke about (despite the fact that it was rarely far from her mind).

Claire rubbed her eyes tiredly and felt her phone vibrate on the couch next to her. Thinking that it was a message from Jamie she swiped it open without opening her eyes.

Her brow furrowed as she read the same text she had seen before. Not a message from Jamie then. Swiping down on the notifications she saw something from Frank in the dating app.

Crap.

Of course he was bound to reply to her. She could just ignore it. But then she wanted to show Jamie that she was deleting the app and she didn’t want to show an unread message. Truth be told, she was planning on showing him the conversation between her and Frank to show that she was well and truly broken it off. Claire scoffed at herself. “Broken it off” like she had been seeing the man regularly. It was one date.

-So no second date then? I was thinking we could go on a walking tour of the castle and I could show you a bit more about my line of work. You seemed so interested. I’m free tomorrow?-

Claire’s eyes widened at the message and she read her own again, just to confirm that she had definitely not left the window open for another date.

“I don’t think we should see each other again.”

No, it was definitely there. Claire’s fingers hovered over her keyboard as she tried to figure out how to reply.

-The fuck? No!-

Claire snorted at the message and deleted the words.

-I don’t think so. Have a good night.-

There that was polite and nice and simple and it didn’t lead to any further conversation… or further suggestions of a date.

-Sunday then?- Frank replied and Claire laughed out loud. He was persistent, should could give him that… though not necessarily a good thing, especially when a woman says no. Claire couldn’t think of a time when she had ever say “no” to a man, only to be thinking “dear god yes”. Otherwise she would have just said “oh dear god yes”.

-No. I think it best if we left things here.-

Claire hoped that a more straightforward approach would put an end to the conversation.

It didn’t.

-I thought you had a good time?-

Claire didn’t reply. It didn’t seem worth it.

-Could you at least tell me why?-

The message started to come in quickly then.

-Claire?-

-You’re not even going to reply?-

-Just going to pretend like we didn’t have a nice time together?-

-Claire?-

-I think it’s a pretty reasonable request.-

-This is incredibly rude. Just ignoring these messages.-

-It’s not like I’m asking for something difficult. I think I deserve to know why, especially when you said yourself that you had a nice time.-

-So you didn’t have a good time then? That was just a line? I don’t need your pity.-

Good lord. She’d picked a real winner here. This was more than a close call with a relationship with someone. Claire had well and truly dodged a bullet.

-I go on a lot of these dates. I thought we had something and you’re just going to blow your chance without even talking to me about it.-

-Really mature Claire.-

Claire laughed at the messages. She couldn’t help herself. Yes, in this scenario she was the immature one. 12 messages in a row and she was the one that wasn’t handling things like an adult. Thank goodness she had Jamie to look forward to tomorrow. She clicked off her phone, silencing it from the onslaught of pings that continued to come from the dating app and went to bed.

—

Saturday. Jamie’s day- as Claire had been referring to it in her head. He wasn’t coming over until dinner time and Claire was going to use the time in between productively. She was going to clean her house. She was going to wash her hair and shave, wax and pluck every unsightly hair on her body. She was going to exfoliate, she was going to moisturise, she would do a sheet mask, drink a glass of wine and make the best dinner Jamie had ever had in his life and then if things went according to plan- she would completely and thoroughly fuck his brains out.

—

Claire’s house had never been so clean, since the day she moved in several years ago, her skin had never been so smooth since (she was sure) she was born and the dinner she had made was the best tasting thing she’d ever made on the planet. Well, to be fair- The second dinner that she made. The first dinner didn’t make it out of the oven so well after she’d fallen asleep on the couch with her face mask on and woken up to the smell of smoking vegetables and a pile of ash where a piece of lamb used to be.

Claire fixed her hair, was bravely wearing minimal makeup and had changed into three (eight- she didn’t count just switching out a shirt to be a completely new outfit) different outfits. Now all she had to do was wait. She sat on her couch staring down a glass of wine. Jamie said that he would be there at 7pm. It was 6:32. She could have just one glass while she waited. Though truthfully, it would be her third.

The first was when she was removing every unwanted follicle of hair from her body- liquid courage.

The second was when she was making her second round of dinner.

The third was sitting on the coffee table in front of her. Waiting to be drunk.

As she made up her mind and took a sip there was a polite knock on her door.

6:45 (had she really been staring at a glass of wine for fifteen minutes?). The sudden onslaught of butterflies in her stomach made it difficult to swallow the mouthful of wine. Looking around her living room she confirmed that everything was in place before she opened her front door.

—

Damn it- he was attractive. Damn it- he was mouth watering. Damn it- she needed to stop objectifying him. Damn it- she needed to stop becoming so speechless whenever she saw him. Damn it- she needed to pay attention to what he was saying. Damn it- she needed to move out of the doorway.

“What?” She asked stupidly. She hadn’t even greeted him. Why was he so damn attractive? There was just something about him that just did things to her. He wasn’t even that dressed up. Casual jeans and a dark blue button down shirt. What would he look like in a suit? Or a kilt? Claire’s mouth ran dry at the thought.

“I said ye look bonnie, Sassenach.”

Goodness. Had it really only been a week since she’d heard his smooth Scottish burr? Only he could call her Sassenach and send her weak at the knees.

“Please come in, make yourself at home.” Claire stood to the side and he ducked his head at her as he passed. Damn it- he even smelt amazing. People like Jamie Fraser were simply not allowed to exist.

—

Claire closed the door slowly behind Jamie. He seemed to know his way through her apartment well enough. She needed a moment to catch her breath. Seeing Jamie again was like being smacked in the face with a wave of emotion. She missed him. She actually missed him and seeing him again was like feeling a piece of a puzzle slide into place. She’d thought it before- on their first date. It was like coming home. Of course it was much, much too early in… whatever they were, to be feeling things like that- she just hoped that her face wasn’t telling Jamie all of that. She knew she had a glass face and she really didn’t want to scare Jamie off with the depth of her attraction to him.

“Good week?” Jamie asked conversationally was he watched her plate up their dinner.

—

Best. Meal. Ever.

Claire was very proud of herself as she saw Jamie close his eyes and smell the plate she put in front of him. Yes it smelt good. She just prayed that it tasted good as well.

“Busy. Working. How about you?” Claire poured a more than generous amount of wine into their glasses.

“Aye, same. Lots of spelling errors, grammar issues and I read one truly awful manuscript. Vampires, wolves and fairies set in 3045 but everythin’ had gone backward to 1645. Didn’t make a lot of sense.” Jamie shook his head before he started eating. Claire watched him carefully, waiting for any sign that he either loved or hated the meal.

“It was in that strange category where it was sah bad- it was good- ye ken? Where ye canna put it down but yer just frustrated by the whole thing,” he continued before shovelling in more food.

“I stopped at chapter 14 because the spelling and grammar got so bad I could’na deal wit’ it anymore.”

Claire nodded along politely as she barely touched her food. The butterflies that had been fluttering through her stomach all afternoon had turned into a full blown hornets hive of activity and it felt like they were slowly crawling up her throat- choking her.

“Anyway, I got most of the assignments out the door before they were due, so next week should be easier unless there’s something that I’ve missed.” Jamie paused briefly, wiping his mouth on a napkin. “This is really good. Where’d ye learn to cook?”

Claire’s voice hadn’t yet managed to resurface and she shrugged simply in response. She was being ridiculous. Why could she not talk to Jamie? She had been thinking about their date all week, finally ready to clear the air and now that she actually had him in front of her- she was tongue tied.

“My uncle, living around the world,” she finally said in short bursts.

“My sister Jen is really the cook in the family. There is’na a meal that she’s made that’s been bad. She says she just follows the recipe but I reckon it’s gotta be natural talent. Some people just have, ye ken?” Jamie carried the conversation, if he was aware of Claire’s nervousness he did a very good job of not showing it.

He asked her occasional questions and she managed a one or two word response before he continued in his story.

Claire cleared up the plates- her plate hardly touched and Jamie’s almost licked clean, as Jamie made his way into her living room and onto her couch.

“I didn’t really take much notice of yer place, the last time I was here,” Jamie called out from the living room. Claire almost dropped the plates in the sink as she remembered with student clarity her first (and only) night with Jamie.

“I like the artwork on yer walls,” he continued, unaware of the hot flush that Claire was currently experiencing. “Reminds me of my Mam. She used to paint the same way.”

Claire could hear Jamie moving around the small space and she took the time to take a few fortifying gulps of air before she brought out a tumbler of the good whiskey for him and a cup of coffee for herself.

Jamie turned to look at her as she entered the room and she nearly dropped everything. He was smiling widely at her, deep, long dimples forming on his cheeks and his eyes crinkling at the edges. Blue eyes sparkling and wavy red hair that was in desperate need of a trim. Good lord. Did he know how attractive he was?

“Whisky for you. Coffee for me.” Claire placed the drinks on the coffee table and tried to make herself comfortable on the couch. She tried to relax, she tried to look at ease but as soon as Jamie sat next to her, she could feel herself trembling from head to toe.

“I still dinna understand how ye can sleep when ye have coffee so late. Surely that’s no’ good for ye?” Jamie picked up the whisky and took a savouring sip and closing his eyes.

“I don’t plan on sleeping tonight,” Claire wanted to say but she bit her tongue and shrugged instead.

“So,” Jamie said shuffling slightly so that he moved closer to Claire.

“So,” Claire repeated, carefully putting her coffee on the table in front of him and feeling his thigh brush up against her own.

“Elephant in the room then,” Jamie said seriously and Claire felt her heart sink somewhere to her feet. She knew that it was going to come up eventually and she had braced herself for it all night. Though if Jamie didn’t want to see her anymore, he probably wouldn’t have stayed for dinner. But he probably would want to know all about the date and Claire wasn’t looking forward to that part.

Claire nodded solemnly. She had sworn to herself that she would tell him anything he wanted to know and that she would show him the messages and delete the app. Regardless if he didn’t want to date her, she would delete the app. She’d had enough of the one off dates for a long time anyway.

“We’ve a choice to make here. And it will affect the rest of our night together, so I want ye to think about this carefully. Right?”

Jamie’s voice was soft and Claire was willing her body to stop shaking with nerves. She liked him so much. Why did she have to like him so much? She shouldn’t be this nervous. There was nothing going on between her and anyone else. But if Jamie said that he didn’t want to see her again, she would be crushed. She really liked him.

“Are ye ready?” Jamie asked seriously and Claire took a deep breath.

“Now. I see ye have connect four and monopoly. So. Which is it?”

[fangirlspammer]

Sparks Fly (part 3)

Okay I apologize for my delay, but you will be happy to know that I have the next chapter nearly finished as well (!!!!!) So hopefully it won't take me too long to post that one after all the editing😌 I hope you enjoy this chapter😌

Also, yes, I did use a Desperate Housewives plot for my murder case, and no I'm not sorry. I suck at writing crime😂

A flash of heat washed over you, the room was spinning, the loud music was drowning out your thoughts, and your vision was blurring.  You could feel your heart begin to pound and the blood rushing throughout your body.  The city lights blurred together as you tried to focus, but that was failing.  There was a voice trying to get through to you, but you couldn't make it out.  The next thing you knew you're head was hitting the dashboard and the sounds of screaming and car horns echoed in your mind.

*

"Y/N!" a faint voice sounded in the distance. "Y/N!"

The voice was louder now, and when you could feel yourself being shaken you shot up from your sleeping position on the couch and gasped frantically for air.  You couldn't catch your breath and hot tears rolled down your cheeks. The person behind the voice was holding you tightly to their chest, and after a few minutes you knew that it was your big brother.  He was rubbing your back and rocking you gently, whispering words of comfort in your ear until you could grasp into reality.

*

"That's your fourth one this month," he sighed from the kitchen 30 minutes later.

"I know," you acknowledge blankly and hugged the warm, couch throw around you tighter.

You watched your big brother roam around the kitchen making you his famous tea. He always knew how to calm your nerves after a night terror like this. Despite the every day frustrations of living with your brother; clothes all over the place, dishes in the hamper, towels on the floor; you were grateful to have him around these past 13 months. After your little incident nothing had ever been the same, and you didn't think you would have made it through without him by your side, especially in your line of work.

When he finally noticed you coming into the kitchen he shook his head at you and pointed back towards the living room. "No. No go lay down," it wasn't a request, but you didn't care.  That old couch was not comfortable in the slightest.

"You don't have to baby me, Travis," your annoyance was clear, but obviously he didn't care about that.

"I do when you aren't taking your meds," he frowned and set an ugly orange bottle in front of you.

"Oh god, don't say 'meds' like that," you rolled your eyes.  "It makes me sound sick," you huffed just as annoyed.

"This isn't a joke!" you jumped, eyes wide, when his voice filled the kitchen.  He softened and ran his hand through his messy hair.  "Y/N, I can't help if you won't even help yourself.  What does NCIS have to say about this?" his eyes were searching yours for an answer, but you couldn't even come up with a quick enough lie.  "Dammit, Y/N.  They don't know about this?"

"Travis, it isn't as bad as you make it out," the words rushed out of you, but he wasn't buying it. "I can still do my job, and it only happens while I'm asleep anyway."

"And how long until that's not the case?" he tested you.

You sighed and walked around the island to him and took the tea he had made you.  "Big brother I appreciate you looking out for me, I do, but it's too early for one of your fatherly lectures," you sighed and he rolled his eyes. "Now if you will excuse me, I have a shower calling my name before I have to be at work," you kissed his cheek and headed across the room.

"Does she know?" the words had you frozen in place.

You knew that he was talking about Jack. Who else would it be?  Ever since the that night she came prying into your life, you couldn't get your mind off of her.  She had been at NCIS for 6 months now, and the two of you had become the best of friends.  She hadn't taken the place of Ellie, but Jack wasn't like Ellie, and neither were your feelings for her, even if you couldn't place them.  Of course she didn't know.  What did he think?  That you were completely crazy enough to tell the NCIS psychologist about your night terrors?  That you hadn't been taking your medication?  Because if that's what he thought, well, he knew better than that.

"Why does that matter?" you tried to make your voice sound at level.  The grip on your mug tightened so the tea wouldn't spill.

"So that's a no," he rolled his eyes and you could feel him staring a hole into the back of your neck.  You hated how he could see right through you.  You almost responded, but bit your tongue and stepped into the bathroom and the door shut behind you.

*

When you arrived at the office Gibbs was already there and a cup of coffee was on your desk.  You dropped your bag on the floor and fell into your seat with a quiet sigh of relief. "Thanks Gibbs," you muttered tiredly and took a sip before furrowing your brow. "Wait, how did you know-"

"You've been early every day this week," he shrugged and glanced over his monitor towards you.

"Right," you nodded and began to set up your space.

"Anything wrong?"

You knew that Gibbs was concerned about any of the team who's pattern abruptly changed. What you didn't know was why it was such a surprise to you. Quickly you shook your head. "Nope," you could feel him staring at you but brush it off when you refused to say more.

You were grateful that he stopped there and you began to go through the paperwork on your desk. It was another 2 hours until the rest of the team arrived. You ignored the look of concern Ellie flashed you and finished up with the last of the paperwork. That was the 4th stack of paperwork you had gone through this week alone. Your mind needed a distraction and case files would do that to a person.

"Y/N," you looked up to see Jack standing up in the balcony. "Got a second?" She eyed you closely and you felt your chest tighten. You had been avoiding her lately. With all you'd been through the last thing you needed was for Jack to get suspicious. She always could see right through you.

"Got a body," Gibbs entered the bullpen in a hurry and grabbed his gear.

"Rain check?" You gave a sympathetic smile and quickly headed to the elevator. Thank God for this case. That was a horrible thought, one that you didn't truly mean, but you just needed to get away.

*

Jimmy was at the scene of the crime before anybody else had arrived, and with the help of Ducky they had gathered enough information to make a proper diagnosis of how this woman had died.  She was murdered, hit by something wooden to the back of the neck and then strangled by a fishing rope and hung from her banister.  It didn't take long for you to find a clue as to who the biggest suspect was while you and the team were looking through the house.  There was a threatening note on the desk that read: I know what you did.  I am going to tell.

"McGee," you looked over your shoulder and held up the note with gloves on.

McGee came over and read it, his brow furrowing the more he read.  "It looks like Cathryn Phelps had an enemy," he stated as he put it into an evidence bag.

"Who is Jamie Harris?" Bishop questioned as she read it now.

"Did you say Jamie Harris?" Torres entered the room.  He held up a picture frame with two women in it after you nodded.  "She was Cathryn's wife."

You couldn't fight the surprise that flashed across your face when Torres announced that.  "Why would she send a threatening note to her own wife?"

*

The rest of the car ride was full of theories tossed back and forth, and you knew Gibbs was thankful when the car finally came to a stop in the NCIS parking lot.  He didn't hesitate to get out and head towards the building, and you quickly followed.  You were eager to get your work done, and if you stuck around with the rest of the team you knew that they would start trying to analyze you.  The last thing that you wanted to do was talk about your problems, besides this case wasn't sitting well with you at all and you wanted to solve it quickly.

"There you are!" Jack bounced into the bullpen with a bright smile, but you could read between the lines.  She was up to something, you could tell by the way she narrowed her eyes ever so slightly.  Not that you were analyzing the psychologist or anything as crazy as that.

"Here I am," you nodded and plopped down in your chair.  "Busy as a bee.  No time for chit chat," you knew you were giving yourself away, but you avoided her gaze.

"Go," you looked over wide eyed to Gibbs.  "Y/N Go," he repeated with a slightly irritated frown.

"Boss I-" you stopped when he gave you that famous death stare.  You frowned and closed your things before following Jack and muttering something under your breath as the team walked by and watched with curiosity.  They were always so curious.

*

You followed Jack into her office and sighed as she insisted you go in first.  It wasn't as though you were going to run away.  Gibbs would just send you back up, and Jack would probably handcuff you to the chair.  You shook your head as the thought of handcuffs quickly veered into a vivid fantasy you did not want to relish in at this moment. You sighed and took a seat on the sofa with your hands in your lap.

"What is so important that it couldn't wait, Jack?" you huffed.

Jack frowned, not understanding all of this hostility. "I'm sorry, Y/N, I didn't realize having to talk to me was such a chore," she pouted and crossed her arms from across the room.

"I'm sorry," you sighed and let out a long breath that you seemed to have been holding in.  "I just have a lot that needs to get done."

"That's what I want to talk to you about."

Your eyes shot up and you crossed your arms.  "My work?  Jack I don't really think that is any of your business.  It's not like I'm letting cases pile up or coming into work late every day.  Frankly, I don't understand what this is even about."

"It is my business when it's been brought to my attention by someone who is concerned about you," Jack frowned as you kept taking that defensive tone with her.  You had been doing it a lot lately.

"This is ridiculous," you huffed and stood up to leave in frustration.

"Y/N, sit down," her voice came out firmer than she anticipated.  You frowned at her, but slowly retreated back into the couch.  "The team is worried about you, and after all that they've pointed out... well, so am I."

"What the hell does everybody have to be worried about??" you snapped.

Jack opened up a file she had laying on her desk and came over to sit in the chair across from you.  "You were in a car accident just over a year ago, am I right?"

You felt your heart drop and your stomach turn.  Suddenly you felt nauseous and cursed yourself for not taking your medication this morning after Travis insisted.  Your hands suddenly started shaking and you hugged yourself a little tighter than before.  "Where did you hear that?" your voice came out in a hoarse whisper.

"It was in your file.  Vance gave it to me when I started," she stated matter-of-factually.

You could feel your blood boiling.  She had known from the start more about you than you even knew to this day about her!  Was any of this even real or had she been giving you the sympathetic shoulder this whole time?  You didn't know what to say, because if you spoke now you would probably regret it.  You were functioning on 3 hours of sleep, and your emotions were running high already.

"Who was the woman?" her voice interrupted the thoughts racing through your mind causing your head to pound.

"What woman?"

"The woman in the car," her voice was soft as though not to upset you more.  She could see this whole things was causing you to act on edge.  "The woman who died."

The tears silently fell down your cheeks and you held your breath.  You didn't even know that you had started to cry until the tears landed on your hands.  You took a deep breath and quickly wiped your eyes.  "It doesn't matter."

Jack sighed softly, this was going to be harder than she thought, but she needed answers.  Vance had told her that you had refused to talk to anybody about the accident after it happened.  At first it hadn't affected your work.  He had been informed that you had spoken to Ellie and that your brother had moved in.  It was as though the accident had never happened, but these past few months, especially the last 4 weeks, you had started to go backwards mentally.  You had been forcing yourself to work 3 times your normal work load, you had been coming in 2 hours earlier, and you had taken spontaneous trips down to the gym at every chance.  You had even started to doze off on occasion, and Gibbs hadn't been allowing you into interrogation lately.

"It matters, Y/N," Jack pressed on.  Her voice was calming, and it only made you madder.  "You can't keep carrying on like this never happened.  It is catching up to you, and it isn't healthy."

"Just stop!" you snapped and jumped to your feet.  "I didn't ask for your help!  I never wanted help in the first place, so why are you pushing?  This doesn't concern you!"

Jack let out another slow sigh and began to write something down.  You watched her and clenched your fists at your sides.  "I'm afraid it does, Y/N, and until you decide to talk about it, I am afraid that I am going to have to give you a suspension," she tore the paper from the notebook and handed you a copy.

You took the paper and looked down at it dumbfounded.  "What the hell is this?"

"You aren't to step foot back into NCIS until you decide to cooperate," Jack had to be tough, her voice was firm, but she was doing all she could to keep it together.  You and her were close friends, almost the best of, and this was harder on her than she was able to let on.  "Pack your things and go home, Y/N," she whispered and turned to go to her desk.  She took a seat and busied herself with her computer, avoiding any more contact with you.

"You can't do this," you argued, waving the piece of paper at her.  "You don't have the right to do this."

"Actually, she does," you snapped your head to see Director Vance standing in the doorway with his hands folded behind his back.  "Y/N, I trust you will won't need an escort," he eyed you carefully.

Your jaw dropped as you looked between the two.  Jack still avoided your gaze and Vance was calm, be it he had two escorts waiting in the hall just in case.  You rolled your eyes at the thought.  He should have known you better than that.  "You've got to be kidding me," you muttered and pushed past him before racing down the steps.  You went to your desk, slid all of your belonging into your bag carelessly and zipped it up angrily.

"Where do you think you're going?" Gibbs spoke up, but you didn't answer, only worked faster.  "Y/N!"

"Ask your boss," you snapped as you gathered the last of your things.  The team was wise not to get in the middle of this, but Ellie quietly took the note out of your hand to see what was going on.  What did you care?  She was your best friend after all, it was only a matter of time before she knew anyway.  "I've been suspended due to my hard work ethic and punctuality," you rolled your eyes in disdain.  The sarcasm didn't sit well with Vance, who was now standing outside of the bullpen, but you didn't care.

"Like hell you are," Gibbs came to your defense and looked to Vance.  "Leon, she's my best Agent for this case."

"I'm sorry, Gibbs, but my hands are tied," Vance apologized.

"Bullshit," you muttered and you could practically hear the teams eyes widen.  You glanced up to see Jack offer a sympathetic pursing of the lips, but you rolled your eyes and walked towards the elevator.  "Don't expect me back soon.  I don't plan on 'cooperating'," you frowned and with that you were gone.

[eatsleepandsupernatural]

No Second Chances

Part 2

Pairings: Dean Winchester! Dad x Reader

Warnings: self-doubt, negative body image, eating disorder, anxiety/depression, mention of suicide, fluff

Word Count: 1873

A/N: Hi everyone, this is the second and last part of ‘No Second Chances’. I’m so sorry about the delay, things haven’t been running all that smoothly here, and I haven’t had time to write. I hope you enjoy this little piece. XX

Read the first part here: No Second Chances

The words echoed through your head, reaffirming years of self-doubt.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

“I said you weren’t ready.”

“You could have been killed.”

“You just aren’t strong enough.”

“What would you have done if you had been caught?”

Your Dad had made himself very clear when you had arrived back at the bunker. He was mad, justifiably so. For the past week, the two of you had been silently co-existing, too much tension remaining from the night of the incident to behave normally around each other. The morning after, Sam and Cas left to attend to the case that they had been forced to abandon, leaving you and Dean in the bunker to sort things out.

You had spent the majority of the week in your bedroom, only coming out to grab an apple when you were hungry and to use the bathroom. You expected today to be exactly the same. You stretched your arms as you step out of bed, the smell of cooked breakfast hit your nose as soon you opened your door. You approached the kitchen warily, unsure of what mood your father would be in. You stopped in the doorway and watched as Dean expertly flipped over pancakes with one hand and placed cooked bacon onto a plate with another. He picked up two glasses of orange juice, turning around to carry them to the table.

Your Dad smiled when he spotted you watching him. “Hey Kiddo, I was just about to call you. Have a seat.” Your Dad turned back to collect the plates as you sat down at the table. Your heart thumped, and your chest tightened, apprehension rolling off you in waves. You wiped your sweaty palms on you pyjama pants as you Dad sat down across from you with a big grin, one you struggled to return.

Dean made meaningless conversation while you eat, but your thoughts were elsewhere. You still hadn’t forgiven yourself and seeing him so happy just made you feel guilty for causing him pain in the first place. You threw him half-hearted smiles and nods when called for as he described a movie he recently watched in great detail. Once you had finished half of the food, your Dad had served onto your plate, you pushed it away and stood up.

“Thanks for breakfast, Dad, I’m full.”

Your Dad glanced up at you with raised eyebrows, “You haven’t been eating much lately, holed up in that room. Normally you eat bacon like you need it to breathe,” He leaned forward, one arm resting on the table in front of him while the other waved around in the air as he spoke.

You internally grimaced, his concern only heightening the guilt consuming you. “I really am full Dad. Gotta go take a shower.” You turned your back on your Dad and head for the bathroom, eager to wash away your feelings

You revelled in the feeling of the water hitting your face, washing away the tears as soon as they come. Despite the tears, you were at peace in the shower, it had always been a place where you would go to relax. At this moment you found yourself crying for your mum, craving the sound and caring advice she would always give when you felt less than human. Your mum always knew how to make you feel like you deserved to live.

After finally stepping out of the shower, you stood in front of the mirror and criticised every imperfection that you could see. You cursed at yourself for eating so much breakfast, you couldn’t risk putting on any more weight.

You got dressed and didn’t hesitate to take refuge in your room once more; however, you couldn’t ignore the anxiety growing in your chest. Your Dad making breakfast this morning was a clear sign that he was ready to clear the waters and move on. It wouldn’t be too long before he was knocking on your door asking to talk. You couldn’t stop the tears, and you curled up in a ball, wishing more than anything that you could be normal. Not only do you fail at being a daughter, but you also simply fail at living. You were constantly hurting your loved ones and yourself. You were so tired of making mistakes that you decided that this would be the last mistake you let yourself recover from. You were a burden on your family, and you knew that they would be happier without you anyway.

The knock at the door echoed through the room, and you froze in fear. Your Dad let himself in when you responded with a disgruntled yes.

“Hey sweetheart, thought it might be a good idea if we talked. You up for a chat?” Your Dad stood in the doorway of your room while he waited for a reply. When he didn’t get one, he moved closer to your bed and placed a gentle hand on your arm. “Kiddo, what’s wrong?”

You cried at the sound of his gentle tone and clenched your eyes shut. Now that he knew you’re upset, he wasn’t going to leave you alone until he knew that you felt better.

Just like you knew he would, your Dad slid onto the bed next to you and pulled you into his side. You immediately reacted, turning around under the covers to hide your face in his chest.

“We can stay like this for as long as you want, but we will have to talk eventually.” Your Dad said, rubbing his hand up and down your arm. You didn’t respond, just pressed further into his side, seeking the comfort he had always provided. The warmth your Dad gave you was enough to relax you, and you soon found yourself in a losing battle against sleep.

When you woke up, you were still curled up next to your Dad, one arm wrapped around you. Your Dad was frowning at his laptop and tapping the neck of his beer bottle with his index finger with a sigh, he placed it on the side table next to your bed.

“Another case?” You asked, raising your eyebrows when he startled.

“Could be. You feeling any better? You were out for five hours.” He closed the laptop halfway and gave you his full attention.  

You squirmed a little, but the arm wrapped around your shoulders is firm and held you in place. You took a deep breath and thought carefully about what you should say. He would know if you lied, so that’s out of the cards, but you definitely couldn’t tell him the truth. “I was just a little overwhelmed, and I still feel terrible about what I did, but yea, I’m okay. I’m sorry.”

You mentally crossed your fingers that your answer was good enough for him, but when you saw his eyes narrow, you knew that you were out of luck.

“I’m sorry that you are feeling so overwhelmed, why didn’t you talk to me? I’ve been trying to talk to get you to talk to me for the past week.” Your Dad struggled to keep his voice even, and you worried that there was something else bothering him.

“It’s fine Dad, really. It was a one-time thing, nothing to talk to you about. I didn’t think you wanted to talk to me after what I did.” You turned away from your Dad, instead choosing to pay close attention to the duvet covering you. It was silent for longer than you had expected as your Dad decided how to reply.

“Do you remember that time you ate my pie?” Dean asked.

Your head whipped back up to your Dad’s face, his mouth pulled into a smirk; however, the dull emotion in his eyes did not match the smile.

“I remember you accusing me of eating your pie. It was probably Sam.” You replied without missing a beat, and your Dad let out a small laugh before his face rid itself of all expression.

“I decided that considering you’re my daughter, you would probably never admit it so the best way to get to the truth would be to install cameras in the kitchen.” You tensed, knowing where this was going, and he glanced down at you. “This week had me curious, so I have been watching the footage. Turns out that if Sam, Cas or I aren’t feeding you, you aren’t eating.”

You remained silent, ignoring the fiery gaze burning into the side of your face. You thought that maybe if you ignored it for long enough, it would disappear.

You were wrong.

“(Y/N), it’s okay, I’m not mad.” Your Dad broke the silence, his voice cracking.

You gave in and you told him everything. You told him about how you were ashamed of what you look like. Of how you weren’t strong enough to hunt. You told him that every time you let him down, it hurt more than you could ever put into words. You told him how you believed that you were a burden and that you thought his life would be easier without you in it and he sat and listened to all of it. He patiently waited while you blew your nose through snotty tears, and you couldn’t help but think that he was the best Dad in the world.

“Come on, sweetheart.” He stood up, pulling you with him and dragged you out to the kitchen. He sat you down at the table before moving away to make some food.

After watching your Dad prepare some food in silence for five minutes, you decided that you would rather be anywhere else. “It cool if I go and watch a movie in your room while I wait? It’s kind of cold in here.”

Dean furrowed his brow, considering the question before giving you a hesitant nod. You gave him a wide smile in thanks and left. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he had said no and you were incredibly grateful that he wasn’t too overbearing.

You put on Big Hero Six, your favourite Disney movie, needing a good dose of Baymax, and curled up in your Dad’s bed. Despite your state of mind, the film brought out a few giggles, and you felt your mood lift slightly.

Half an hour into the film, your Dad appeared with two bowls and passed you one, getting into bed next to you. You looked down at the bowl and up to him in surprise.

“You made Chicken Carbonara from scratch?”

“Just eat it.” Your Dad gruffly responded before shoving a forkful of pasta into his mouth.

You fell asleep not long after you finished eating and Dean was turning off the movie when Sam and Cas were walking down the hallway in search of him.

“How is she?” Sam asked as Cas walked over and placed his fingers on your forehead.

“Her body is weak, I don’t think she’s eaten more than one meal a day in a very long time. I’m sorry, Dean, I should have noticed this earlier.”

Your Dad looked up from where he was playing with your hair to meet Cas’ eyes. “Don’t worry about it, man, we’ll fix it, we always do.”

[breanime]

Hand In Hand

I can cross the “Roadtrip” box off of my Bandit Bingo card now! I tried to write this a little differently, with MUCH less dialogue and more just... text... so let me know what you think.

*gif not mine*

You stood off to the side, arms wrapped around yourself, holding your coat closed as you watched Caspian supervise the loading of the carts and carriages. The whole court was going on a trip to the islands, where Caspian would be honored by some of his father’s old advisors, but first you had to get to the boats. The journey, you had been told, would be relatively quick: a two-day ride to the docks, and then another three days on the ships.

But that had been before the snowstorm.

All of Narnia had been covered in a brilliant white blanket of soft, fluffy snow overnight. You’d woken up to the sight, excitedly running out of your chambers to tell your dear friend, King Caspian, that it had snowed…

…not realizing that you were still in your slightly suggestive sleeping gown.

You had met him in the hall—you knew his habits so well; he always woke up before you and had an early breakfast in the library, which is where he was coming from when you found him. Excited, you stopped him in the hall, hands on his muscular arms, babbling about the change in weather and how beautiful it all looked, oblivious to the way his dark eyes had widened at the sight of you, and how his breath caught in his throat as he tried (and failed) not to stare. When he didn’t respond when you asked him if he’d seen the snow, you realized what you were wearing, screamed in shock and embarrassment, and ran off.

That had been hours ago, and you’d been avoiding Caspian ever since. You could barely even look at him these days without feeling like your heart was going to beat out of your chest, and now… You were mortified. You had already irritated yourself with your growing feelings for your friend, and now you’d embarrassed yourself in front of him—your King!—and looked like a complete fool, going on and on about the snow.

The snow, coincidentally, had completely lost its charm to you as you stood in the open air. You shivered, not looking forward to being confined to a small, cold box for this trip.

Caspian turned to you, his dark eyes glimmering in the bright light, and smiled. “I’ll be riding with Lady Y/N,” he said, answering one of his advisor’s questions, “The ride will be a bit longer than we expected with the snow,” he went on, “but I’ll do my best to keep her safe and comfortable.”

You felt your face heat up at both his words and smile and tried to smile back. So you’d be riding with Caspian…great.

As the King, Caspian was expected to ride out first, and as his companion, so were you. Smiling, he took your hand in his and helped you into the carriage before sliding in next to you. Caspian didn’t like being overly showy with his station, so his carriage was only a bit bigger than the average cart, and you could feel the heat coming off of him as he sat next to you.

Day one on the road was fine; you and Caspian chatted about the weather (fully dressed now), and how it would affect the trip and the waters and the route. You were always so impressed by and interested in Caspian’s knowledge as a traveler; whether he was detailing his experiences on the Dawn Treader or his travels as King, you hung on to his every word. Caspian always entertained you, answering all of your questions, never getting annoyed or bored with your curious inquiries. If anything, he seemed to enjoy being able to talk with you—about any topic. By day four, the two of you were passing the time telling each other stories, making up your own mythology and quizzing each other on the details. You laughed a lot in those days, and when you stopped at a nearby castle for the court to rest, and you and Caspian went to your separate rooms, you missed his company. But he was always there in the morning, knocking on your door with a tray of tea, muffins, and fruit that he’d procured from somewhere, smilingly apologizing for waking you up. You’d sneak him into your room, both of you trying to stifle your giggles, and spend breakfast whispering with Caspian until he had to go get ready for the day.

It didn’t occur to you until a week of such activity had passed that Caspian had seen you in your sleeping clothes—and vice versa—for eight days in a row (including the day you’d started the journey).

The snow hadn’t let up—if anything, it’d gotten worse, stalling your journey and extending it with each snowfall. Some of the others had been frustrated by the delay, and Caspian had given them his blessing to return to the castle, but you were actually glad for the delay. It gave you more time with Caspian. When the court was traveling, his duties as King were less intensive, and he got to spend a lot more time with you. You knew this was a temporary thing, so you decided to enjoy it while you could. And enjoy it you did…

…Until the temperature dropped more than ever, a raging blizzard hit you while you were traveling, and a wheel had popped off of the carriage, causing it to veer off course, stagger down a snowy hill, and crash against a snowbank.

Caspian had held you the entire time, shielding you from any harm as the carriage tumbled, and his first move once you crashed had been to make sure you were alright. It was already dark out, and when you got out to see where the rest of the party was, all you could see were lights in the distance.

“We can’t travel like this,” Caspian said, referring both to the limited light and the three-wheel carriage, “We’ll have to spend the night here and meet up with the others in the morning.”

He made sure you were unharmed again before going about securing the area, making sure there were no threats around. You wanted to go with him, but Caspian asked you to stay in the carriage where it was safe. You were beyond relieved when he came back shortly after, reporting that the area was safe enough to stay the night in. Ever the survivalist, Caspian started a fire, keeping your spirits up as he told you stories of Aslan. You helped him warm the food—leftovers from your unfinished lunch from earlier—and the two of you shared a private dinner by firelight. It was oddly intimate, as you sat, thigh pressed against his thigh, next to your damaged carriage. When you started to shiver, Caspian took your hands in his, warming them up. You couldn’t tell if the blush in his cheeks was from the wind or… something else.

When it was time for bed, Caspian offered to sleep outside while you took the carriage, but you refused. It was still storming—snow falling in large clumps as the wind screeched—and you wouldn’t hear of letting your King sleep in such conditions.

“We can both sleep in the carriage,” you said, sounding much more confident than you felt, “We can keep each other warm.”

The two of you gathered all of the blankets, coats, and furs that had been stored in the carriage, and piled them onto your laps, sitting very close together. It wasn’t particularly well-suited for sleeping conditions—a nap, sure, but for a whole night’s rest? Not so much. You and Caspian spoke quietly, talking about what you would do in the morning, and how you’d proceed, speculating on how much longer the storm would go on, until he asked if you were still cold. You couldn’t lie to him—not just because he was your King, but because he was your friend, someone you cared about—so you told him yes, you were. Carefully, he put his arm around you, asking if it was okay. You nodded, suddenly unable to speak. He was so warm and firm; you couldn’t help but lean into him. He smelled of the woods: of trees and adventure. His hair tickled your face as he leaned down, telling you how he was sorry that the carriage had crashed, but glad he was with you.

“…I like being with you,” he said, voice low.

You felt the same way—of course. Wordlessly, you reached out and took his hand in yours. You glanced down at your intertwined hands and it just felt…right. Caspian was smiling at you when you looked back up at him, and you were warmed by the sight of it. You smiled back, putting your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes.

“I like being with you, too.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence after that, listening to the sounds of the whirling wind and rusting leaves outside, perfectly cozy and warm in each other’s embrace. Before you fell asleep, you felt Caspian’s lips, warmer than they should be, on your forehead as he wished you sweet dreams.

You were still in his arms when you woke up the next morning.

“No breakfast,” he said with a soft smile, arm still holding you to him, “but at least the storm has passed.”

It didn’t take long for the rest of the party to track you down. They fussed over the both of you, making sure neither of you would come down with a cold, and insisting that Caspian travel in a bigger carriage, but he said he was fine with this one. They hitched it to a few horses, took it to a shop where a very nice villager reattached the wheel, and you were on your way again. The ride was long, but you and Caspian kept each other entertained as always.

And he held your hand the entire way to the coast.

Once you boarded the ship, Caspian went out of his way to spend time with you, excusing himself from other conversations to be with you, placing his hand in yours when no one was around. It was a new habit he’d formed—one that you were very much a fan of. He also started kissing your forehead when he said goodnight, and if he wasn’t sneaking into your quarters first thing in the morning for a private breakfast…

…you were sneaking into his.

Even after the ship landed on the island, and Caspian met with his father’s old advisors, the two of you kept up those habits. The snow melted, the flowers grew back, and before you knew it—Caspian was seeing you in your sleeping clothes every day: when you woke up next to him, smiling sleepily as he leaned down and kissed your forehead, your nose, and then your lips, and again at night as he held you to him, kissing your hairline as he wished you sweet dreams. By the time it snowed again, and you were crowned Queen of Narnia, you barely even bothered with your bed clothes at all. It was easier that way. Besides…

…Caspian always kept you warm.

*******************************************************************************************

I’m not gonna lie, ya’ll. I like writing dialogue more than this haha. Let me know what you think, though! Thanks for reading!

Taglist: @lexxierave​ @loveintheroyalfamily​ @suchatinyinfinity​ @fanfictionrecommendations-com​  @maxslime-blog​ @elanor-of-imladris​ @songforhema​ @lucielandss @fandomlifeandeverythingelse​ @themadhatter92​ @realduckvader​ @the-blind-assassin-12​ @christinawxxx​ @anabella-baby @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme​ @luminex3​ @littlemermaidprobz​ @ashkuuuu​ @luckysstrikes​ @carlaangel86​ @floralpeaceofmind​ @dylanobrusso​ @teacuplotus​ @iaintnofurry​ @thesumofmychoices​ @ymariejp​ @its-my-little-dumpster-fire​ @mrsjaxtellerfan​ @whovianayesha​ @holamor​ @drinix​ @rhabakoli​ @stories-you-wont-hear​ @king4thesirens​ @starkrobb​ @marauderskeeper​ @charlylama​  @gollyderek​ @leahnicole1219​ @evanlys19​  @something-tofightfor​ @banditthewriter​  @binbons-is-theloml​

Caspian Taglist: @miss-nerd95 @a-jem-found-in-a-papaya @ladyblablabla​

Benny B Characters Taglist: @thesandbeneathmytoes​

[sojourner-between-worlds]

Burn the Ships, Chapter Seven

A/N: Sorry for the delay; holidays are rough for me, so I didn’t even start writing this chapter until New Year’s Eve. XP

As a disclaimer, I know pretty much nothing about how the foster system works, but I just go back to Danny’s very true words to Lou: “He always gets what he wants.” I have no doubt that would also be true here. :P

Also, shout out to SilverLightRaita and their fic Crashing and Saving on AO3 because that was 100% the fic that opened my eyes to the possibilities. So if you liked this and want more after this concludes next chapter, be sure to check it out!

. . . . .

Chapter Seven

“Hey, Danny. I don’t think we’re going to make it tonight after all.”

Alex couldn’t help but eavesdrop from where he lay on the sofa, guilt settling in his gut. Commander McGarrett had been upstairs for a while, but now it sounded like he was out in the kitchen. He didn’t remember hearing the man come down, so he must have dozed off; Alex wished he could actually fall asleep like he longed to do.

“Yeah, he’s asleep on the couch. Can’t really blame him for crashing; it’s been quite a day.”

He had no idea how long he’d been laying there, but it had been long enough, apparently. The numbing agent they’d given him while getting stitched up had worn off, leaving behind a dull, burning ache. It didn’t really hurt, per se, but it was uncomfortable.

“It wasn’t hard. I just told them he’s a witness in a case and offered to keep him in protective custody. It’s Christmas Eve -- you really think they’d argue? Someone’s gonna swing by on the twenty-sixth, but with any luck…”

Alex frowned. McGarrett had said he wasn’t going to abandon him, but now that Alex thought about it, he didn’t actually know what that was going to look like. The future had never seemed so uncertain.

“Yeah, we’ll try to swing by sometime tomorrow, but I can’t make any promises. I’d better let you go, though -- get back to the party. Wish everyone a merry Christmas for me.”

The guilt swirling in his gut rose in his throat at the realization that McGarrett was missing out because of him. Would he ever stop ruining people’s lives by simply existing?

The couch cushion dipped near his hip, and a moment later calloused but gentle fingers combed through his hair. He couldn’t help but lean into it a little.

“Hey, buddy. Food’s ready. Think you can wake up long enough to eat?”

Instead of answering, and without bothering to open his eyes, Alex murmured, “‘m sorry.”

“What for?”

“You’re missing the party because of me.”

A soft laugh. “Yeah, well… I know I said this morning that this is an annual thing, but the truth is, it’s really not. We plan it every year, but you’d be surprised how many times we’ve ended up working so it just didn’t happen. And that’s okay. Sometimes other things are more important -- like the teenager asleep on your couch after getting shot. You know, the usual.”

Alex finally cracked his eyes open to find that the only light in the room now was what streamed out of the kitchen. But even in the dim light, he could tell McGarrett was smiling. He huffed, sparing a grin of his own. “Yeah, I’m sure today was a totally normal day at the office.”

“You might be surprised. Crazy things happen a lot around here.” McGarrett stood up. “So anyway, I’ve got homemade pizza out in the kitchen. What do you say we get some before it gets cold and put on a movie or something?”

Alex nodded as he pushed himself up with his good arm; even keeping his weight on his right, he couldn’t help but wince at the unwelcome pressure on his left. “Okay.”

Commander McGarrett’s smile turned sympathetic. “And maybe get you something for your arm.”

Now that he was sitting up, the injury was throbbing a good bit more than it had been. “Yeah, that definitely sounds good, too. Thank you.”

For everything, he wanted to add, but judging by the look on the commander’s face, he already knew. . . .

Steve was pulled from his slumber by the incessant vibrating of his phone against a hard surface, and he couldn’t help but pray to every known deity that it wasn’t work-related. Eyes still closed, he fumbled around the top of the table beside him and finally picked up the device just as it went to voicemail.

Peeling back his eyelids, he discovered he was still in the living room, late morning sunlight streaming through the windows, with his feet kicked up on the coffee table and one teenaged boy curled up under his arm, face smushed into his hip bone.

That cannot be comfortable, he thought as he brought his phone to life.

One missed call -- Danny Williams

No doubt wondering if they were coming over since a glance at the time told Steve it was after nine already. Rather than risk waking Alex, he shot his partner a text, complete with photo evidence of why he was choosing not to call.

A moment later, Danny responded: That cannot be comfortable. Poor kid must really be out of it. Dinner’s at 1. We won’t wait unless you tell me otherwise then.

Steve tipped his head back against the couch, gaze wandering down to where Alex lay, still peacefully oblivious. The kid had made it all the way through It’s a Wonderful Life and the Santa Clause before losing the fight halfway through the Polar Express. Steve had been surprised he’d made it that long with how exhausted he’d seemed. He knew he’d have to wake Alex eventually, but a little longer wouldn’t hurt anything.

The peaceful silence only lasted a few minutes longer before Alex stirred, slowly blinking his eyes open, brow furrowed slightly like he wasn’t quite sure where he was yet.

“Morning, Alex. You slept a long time.”

He slowly rolled onto his back with a grunt and a yawn, his eyes sliding shut again.

Not completely awake then. That was fine, though; there really wasn’t any rush, so Steve would let him wake up when he was ready.

The silence settled comfortably around them again, and Steve thought maybe Alex had dozed off, but after a moment, Alex muttered into the quiet, “I haven’t slept that well in a long time.”

That was… concerning to say the least. But Alex had copped to having nightmares already; maybe that was all he meant. “You usually don’t sleep well, huh?”

Alex shrugged. “Bad insomnia mostly, and when I do sleep it’s always...disturbed, so.”

Steve winced; he knew exactly how that felt. For the longest time, he had pushed down everything that had happened with the Hess brothers, but when he couldn’t anymore, he’d been subjected to the same sleep patterns. It wasn’t fun.

Alex finally sat up, scrubbing the grit from his eyes. “I -- uhm, I overheard you on the phone with Detective Williams last night. I’m sorry for eavesdropping, but you should go. Don’t let me keep you here.”

He hadn’t been expecting that to be the second topic of conversation for the morning, but he asked the question he’d been planning to, anyway. “Do you feel up to going?”

Alex looked up, clearly startled. “What?”

“Do you feel up to going?” Steve repeated. “Because I’m not going without you.”

“Why not?”

“Well,” he sighed, “we’ve always kind of had this thing between us -- Danny and I. As you already know, Danny is divorced, which means he only gets his kids for Christmas every other year. Since I don’t have any family on the island, it kind of became this unspoken thing -- that no one should have to spend Christmas alone. And Danny -- he’s got Grace and Charlie this year, so… It’s entirely up to you if you want to go over there or not, but I’m not leaving you here alone, either.”

“I’d be intruding…”

“No, you wouldn’t. In fact, Grace would probably be thrilled to have someone else her own age around.”

Alex studied him intently for a moment before turning away with a nod. “Okay. Then, let’s go.”

“You’re sure?”

“I want to.”

“Okay.” Steve smiled. “I know they’ll be happy to see you.” . . .

Steve fell into bed that night tired but content. He honestly hadn’t been sure how Alex would do, but he needn’t have worried at all.

“Hey, Charlie! Merry Christmas, buddy!” Steve stooped over to pick up the boy, and Charlie instantly clung to him like a koala.

“Merry Christmas, Uncle Steve! Who’s that?”

Steve turned to smile at the teen still standing awkwardly by the door. “That is Alex. He’s going to be spending Christmas with us. Is that okay?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Steve chuckled as Charlie squirmed back out of his arms and marched up to Alex, completely unafraid.

“Do you like Legos?”

Alex floundered for only a second before he replied, “Uhm, yeah. Yeah, I guess.”

“Come on.” Charlie reached up and grabbed his hand. “Grace was building with me, but now she’s helping Danno, so you can help me instead.”

And that had been that. Steve had watched them for a moment, but almost as soon as they’d started, the tension had drained from Alex’s shoulders, and Steve had headed for the kitchen, confident they’d be okay by themselves for a bit.

As it turned out, they had been more than okay. Within the hour, it was apparent that Charlie had dubbed Alex his best friend for the day. He had insisted on sitting next to the teen at dinner, and when they’d made gingerbread houses that afternoon, Alex was the only one allowed to help him.

Neither Steve nor Danny could figure out exactly how that had happened, so later that evening, as they were settling in to watch a movie, Danny had asked.

“You seem to be pretty good friends with Alex already, huh, buddy?”

Charlie nodded. “Yes. He needed a friend.”

Danny smiled. “You think so?”

Charlie nodded again, his face completely serious. “Yes. So I thought I could be his friend.”

Steve chuckled. “I think you made a good choice, buddy -- a very good choice.”

Charlie nodded a third time. “I think so too.”

As soon as Alex had come back from the bathroom and sat down, Charlie had plopped down in his lap as the opening credits of How the Grinch Stole Christmas rolled. It wasn’t a long movie, but by the end, Steve could tell Alex was starting to drift so they hadn’t stayed long after Charlie was put to bed.

As soon as they’d gotten home, Alex had headed to bed as well; his arm had started to bother him again though he’d been fine most of the day, so Steve had quickly checked it, rewrapped it, and had given him ibuprofen before he crashed.

It had been a good day, and Steve hoped it would be another good night as well. . . .

Alex woke to bright sunlight streaming in through the gaps in the blinds, feeling surprisingly well-rested. He had startled awake around three o’clock but had obviously managed to fall back asleep. Frowning, he stared up at the ceiling for several moments before rolling out of bed. He hadn’t slept this well since before his uncle’s death; why was it suddenly so easy now?

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he found Commander McGarrett sitting at the dining table, sipping at a cup of coffee with his work tablet in front of him. If he was working, Alex didn’t want to interrupt, but he also knew he would feel awkward rooting around in the man’s kitchen to find something to eat; he didn’t live here, after all. Debating his next move, he stood there, one hand still on the railing, for who knew how long before the commander looked up and saw him.

“Morning, Alex. Sleep alright?”

Finding his feet again, he moved towards the table. “Yeah, thanks. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

“You’re not. Besides, it’s paperwork; you can interrupt that any time you want, and I will thank you for it.” McGarrett stood up. “Let’s get you some breakfast.”

“No, no!” Alex was quick to protest, holding his hands up in front of him. “You don’t need to do that.”

“Do what? Feed you? Because I’m gonna have to disagree with you there.”

“No -- just -- I can do it myself. You don’t have to get up.”

McGarrett took a sip from his mug before speaking again. “Is that why you were standing there for a solid minute not moving? Because you didn’t want to bother me?”

Dang it. He’d been made from the start. But the commander had been nothing short of hospitable -- more than, honestly -- up until this point, and Alex didn’t want to put him to extra work. “There’s still pizza in the fridge, right? I’ll just eat that.”

The commander raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to eat pizza for breakfast? You’d really prefer that to -- I don’t know -- scrambled eggs?”

Alex had to admit that sounded good, but… “I mean, it has Canadian bacon on it -- that’s technically a breakfast food.”

McGarrett snorted, sitting back down in his chair. “Alright, have it your way. I’ll just go back to my exceptionally boring paperwork.”

Sighing in relief, Alex stepped around the corner into the kitchen, grabbed a couple of slices from the fridge and dropped them on a plate, then returned to the table and sat across from McGarrett. “So, when do you suppose CPS is going to show up?” he asked, taking a bite from the first slice.

“Hm?” McGarrett glanced up, pausing in his typing. “Oh, the lady was already here -- eight o’clock on the dot, as a matter of fact.”

Alex’s brain stuttered. “Then why am I still here? I thought…”

The commander folded the screen over the attached keyboard, giving Alex his full attention. “You thought you were gonna be shuffled off to another foster home?”

“I assumed -- I mean --.” Alex cut himself off as the realization hit him. He was staying here?

“I’m petitioning for your custody. It didn’t work in California to be shuffled around, so why would it work any better out here? At least, that was my reasoning. You need to be someplace where you’ll have time to settle and, Alex, I won’t lie: that can take months -- especially given what you’ve been through. And if no one is willing to give you longer than a week, then you’ll just end up right back where you started. I can’t promise I’ll even be a good guardian, but if there’s one thing I can give you, it’s time.”

He sighed. “Look, I’m not going to force you to stay with me if you don’t want to, but you should know that if you choose to leave, I’ll still be here for you, okay? You can always come to me if you need something or if you have a problem. I told you I wasn’t going to leave you on your own, and I meant it. Okay?”

Alex steeled himself, heart in his throat, to ask the question he was most afraid to hear the answer to. “What about Agent Branning? He could contest this, couldn’t he?”

McGarrett nodded. “Yeah, he could, but I don’t think he will. Even if he does fight it, I’ll fight back twice as hard, and I’ll keep fighting until it happens.”

Alex let out a shuddering breath. He had so many questions he wanted to ask. “Don’t you have to be, like, certified to foster though?”

“Also yes, but you let me worry about that, alright? You don’t need to worry about a thing; just leave it all to me.”

Alex swallowed harshly. He was not going to start crying again, dang it. But there was one last thing he had to know. “Why are you doing this? It’s just… it’s a lot, and you barely know me.”

“Honestly? It was the best way I could think of to get you out. I told you it’s time to burn some ships of your own, right? The idea behind that phrase is to move forward with no chance of going back to where you were. So if you don’t want to be a part of that work any longer, then I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you don’t feel like you have to be.”

Alex let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Okay.” His voice was shaky, but he was holding back the tears so he considered that an accomplishment, at least. What had he done to deserve this kindness? Absolutely nothing. He had lied and broken his promises and run away. Yet Commander McGarrett was giving of himself so freely anyway.

After a pause, McGarrett asked, “So, I take it this arrangement is good, then? You’re good? We’re good?”

Alex smiled and let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re good.”

“Good.” He flipped the tablet screen back up again. “Eat your very strange breakfast, then we’ll talk more, alright?”

In response, Alex picked his slice back up and took a bite out of it, feeling like maybe he would finally be able to rest for the first time since his uncle’s death.

Maybe there was hope for the future after all.

. . . . .

Tag List: @diekatimitdemhutohnehut @ghostly-homo @grungeweasel @just-add-butter

[thorbruce-is-lit]

i did it

I finally finished it!! It’s here!!!! All done!!  I’ve finished the fic i was writing based off an older post; So As always, if you see any mistakes, or if you wanna ask anything, message me, or send an ask, or just comment. <3 <3

Millennia Together “…Huh.” It had been days of experiments leading to more loosely connected experiments, and Bruce had reached the end. Sure, there was probably so much more he could find in this rabbit hole of potential research, but he was done. He pushed himself back from his desk and leant back in his chair, rubbing his hands over his face. “Huh.” he repeated to the ceiling. It wasn’t really prompted by anything, his decision to study his own DNA. Out of the blue, it had struck him as an interesting idea. To check out how it had mutated, see if there were any perks to being tied to the Hulk. One thing had led to another, interesting discoveries of weird genes had led to experiments, had led to more questions, and so on. But for now, he was done. “Immortal, huh?” This was gonna take a while to process. 

~

Thor woke up to find the bed empty. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence. Bruce regularly got up in the early hours of the morning to work on one of his many projects with Tony. The pair would work themselves to death if they could work without interruption. He knew that the work Bruce was doing was important for potentially millions of people, but it still saddened him to wake up alone. He quickly forgot his sorrow though, dragging himself out of bed as he remembered Bruce was starting a new project that he promised to explain. He quickly made himself presentable enough to leave the compound, and left their room to go find Bruce.  Thor walked into the lab with a grin and a “Good morning Stark!”  “He’s not here, surprisingly.” Tony replied, looking up from his work. “Oh, and ‘morning to you too.” Thor gave a nod of acknowledgement and made to leave, when Tony said, “So you and Bruce huh?” He immediately saw Thor’s muscles tense and he could’ve sworn the air pressure in the room increased. “What about it?” Thor bit out defensively. He had been told by Bruce about the lack of acceptance on Earth, but he hadn’t expected it from Stark.  Tony put his hands up in defence, “Woah there, Pointbreak nothing bad! I’m not one for hate. I’m just wondering if this is something you do… often.” he finished lamely.  “If you are implying that I am not devoted to Bruce then—” “Hold on, not what I’m saying.” Tony cut him off, pinching the bridge of his nose. He really didn’t mean to breach the subject like this, if at all. “It’s just… you don’t strike me as the type to deal with loss all too well. No offence.” Thor looked at him with a perplexed expression. He was completely lost. “Go on.” he prompted. Tony sighed. “Well, Bruce is human right? And, like other beings, humans have lifespans. You get my drift?” Tony was already regretting this conversation immensely, and seeing Thor’s expression upon realising he would outlive Bruce made him visibly flinch. “Thor?” No response. That was worrying. Tony thought about approaching him, but decided against it when acknowledging the chance of getting electrocuted. However after a few minutes of standing in silence, Tony couldn’t handle it anymore.“Listen, forget I said anything. Go find Bruce, give him a big ol’ hug and forget I ever spoke to you.”  Thor, seemingly unhearing, stood in the doorway for a few more minutes before turning and leaving without a word, the look of immense grief still carved into his face. As soon as the door closed, Tony headbutted his desk, audibly moaning “I’m such a dumbass,” over and over.

Thor wanted to collapse into bed, to curl up into a ball and cry. He didn’t know how he could be so blind.  Well, he did. Wilful ignorance, his mind’s desire to ignore the things he didn’t like. But not this time. He didn’t curl up and ignore his problems. That wasn’t enough this time. Instead, he walked over to his laptop that Stark had supplied him with. He was still getting used to how it worked, but he understood enough for what he needed. He pulled up a search engine and began to type.  Sometime around 2am Bruce stumbled into the room and fell directly into bed, groaning.  “Remind me to never accept a party invitation from Natasha ever again.” In his sleep deprived state, he didn’t register Thor’s delayed hum of acknowledgement. It was long after Bruce had gone to sleep before Thor wearily closed the lid of his laptop on pages and pages of research on prolonging the human lifespan. 

Bruce woke up to the gentle sound of rain on the window. Closing his eyes, he listened closely to the ambient sounds of the room. He hated his inability to stay asleep sometimes, but the calm sound of Thor’s breathing could usually lull him back to sleep. Tonight however, Thor’s usually deep calming breaths were absent for the room, and instead Bruce could hear slightly laboured… whimpering?  “Thor? Babe, are you awake?” Bruce whispered. The noise stopped immediately, but there was no answer. “Thor?” He tried again, but all he got in response was a loud snore, then a shuffling of movement, and finally the deep breathing he’d grown used to over the past months. He drifted off as the rain continued to fall.

-

“Welcome back Thor.”  “Good to see you again, my friend.” Thor met Heimdall in a quick embrace. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but I am in a hurry at the moment.”  “Then I shall not keep you.” Heimdall replied with a knowing nod, gesturing for Thor to take his leave. Thanking him, Thor took off for the heart of the city.

Thor found himself still in the library the next day, surrounded by a myriad of texts varying from scientific papers, to ancient history, to mythology. So far, he’d found nothing. Absolutely nothing of value. He was frustrated and tired, and all he wanted was to be in bed at home with Bruce, but he knew he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t face Bruce with the knowledge that he’d failed to find a solution. He sighed, digging the palms of his hands into his eyes wearily, in an attempt to clear them of exhaustion. It didn’t work. With a groan he pulled himself from his seat and walked back over to the scientific research papers. He’d already looked through them countless times, and had picked out all the relevant ones. Still, despite the knowledge that there was nothing left, that he had scoured all possible sources for prolonging the life of Midguardians, he couldn’t bring himself to give up. “Thor.” Thor whipped his head around. He hadn’t thought anyone had seen him arrive. He relaxed at the sight of his friend. “Ah, Heimdall. You startled me, I thought Odin had noticed I’d returned.” “No, no one is aware of your presence but me. But you must leave soon, if you wish for it to remain that way.” Thor let out a frustrated sigh. “But I haven’t found what I’m looking for. I need more time.” “You aren’t going to find what you’re after here, Thor. I must advise you leave soon. Banner is beginning to worry.” That got Thor’s attention.  “But… I can’t face him. I can’t do it.”  “You must.” Thor looked at him with pleading eyes, as if Heimdall could make everything better. Heimdall responded with a sympathetic look, before turning to leave. “Come.” Thor followed.

He wanted to have not looked hard enough. He wanted the library to be missing research. He wanted to be lucky. But he knew in his heart that what he was looking for wasn’t there, and that he was doomed to be alone, remembering Bruce’s death for the millennia to come. But… He could still make some new memories, he realised. He could take Bruce to all the best planets, go on holidays and make the most of their time together. As he thought this, he felt some of the heaviness on his heart lift. That’s what he would do.

-

It had been a few weeks since the party, and Bruce was starting to notice something was off. Thor looked tired. He was sleep deprived, that much was obvious. Bruce wasn’t stupid. He knew that Thor wasn’t sleeping. He had woken up in the middle of the night more than once to find Thor’s side of the bed cold and empty. But Thor looked tired.  He wished Thor would tell him where he was going, what was happening that required him to work himself into such a state, but breaching the subject was turning out to be difficult. It was starting to worry him, but every time he attempted to breach the subject Thor stopped immediately changed the topic. He wasn’t sure how much longer the conversation could be ignored though, because he knew there had to be a limit to Thor’s energy. Despite looking almost dead on his feet however, Thor still refused to talk to Bruce about it. Today was different though. Bruce’s concerned looks and questions of what was wrong were met with knowing smiles, rather than heavy silence or rushed counters. As the sun set, Thor approached Bruce in the lab, walking up to him and softly whispering “Come, I have something to show you.” The amount of feeling conveyed Thor’s tone made Bruce shiver, and he allowed himself to be led away from his work. He wasn’t willing to shut Thor out after the past few weeks, not even for his research. Thor led Bruce by the hand, occasionally looking back and smiling, and Bruce felt his heart lighten. This was different. This felt good.  They stopped a short distance from the compound, and it was only then when Bruce noticed Thor was carrying Stormbreaker.  “Where are we going?” Bruce asked. Thor looked into his eyes with a warm smile. “You’ll see.”

Bruce was at a loss for words. Tree branches resembling elegant, cold fingers twisted through the fog far below, giving the illusion of trapped souls in the mist. Bioluminescent moss coated the floor far below in a pale blue light. It was haunting. Far beyond the edge of the cliff, the sunset dominated the horizon, with a vast and intricate spread of deep purples to neon greens. The clouds swirled in enormous spiralled structures, with light passing through them at just the right angles to create an apparent glow. The sky at the distant horizon met with the vast, almost endless chasm in an impossibly flawless way, the fog rising to meet the air and glowing with all the colours of the sky. Bruce lent over the barrier preventing him from falling into the vast chasm, trying to see further through the fog in the weak light below. Thor stood by his side smiling to himself, no doubt enjoying the childish enthusiasm Bruce was radiating.  “It’s… amazing.” he breathed. Thor chuckled.  “You’ve said that.” “But… Look! It’s so beautiful!” Bruce exclaimed, struggling to put his feelings into words.  “You’re beautiful.” Bruce looked away from the breathtaking view to see Thor smiling at him again, and felt all the stress of the past few weeks fade from his mind. He didn’t notice the sadness behind Thor’s eyes.

-

Bruce’s suspicions were rising again. In the past month, Thor had taken him on seven different impromptu trips. He wasn’t complaining, no. Each destination was more breathtaking than the last, and Bruce couldn’t get enough of it. That’s where the big problem was. He knew that his and Thor’s relationship wasn’t what it used to be. Ever since the night of the party, something had been off, but Bruce had thought it was getting better. Wilful ignorance. All these day trips to different planets were part of the problem, but Bruce’s scientifically driven mind had ignored the concern constantly eating at the back of his mind in favour of marvelling at the natural wonders of other worlds. Now however, Bruce was taking a stand. Among the unplanned trips, Thor was still disappearing most nights. Bruce was ashamed at his own selfish actions and knew the only way to fix everything was to just talk. But to do that, he needed Thor to cooperate. The issue here, was that every time he tried to bring it up Thor was still deflecting, either pretending nothing had changed or convincing him to go on another trip. He needed to find the right time to ask, where Thor couldn’t escape. But… he worried. He worried if Thor was withdrawing from him due to a lack of interest, or if something was happening that required Thor to leave. He didn’t want to ruin any time that could be their last. So he kept quiet, worrying silently and hoping beyond all hope that Thor was okay. That they were okay.

-

“Thor!!” He heard a panicked shout before he plunged into the deep spring. The warm water was relaxing, and he waited a few moments before pushing himself to the surface. He looked up at Bruce’s concerned face, peering down at him from the top of the sheer rock face, and beamed.  “Come on, the water’s nice!” He pushed himself back through the water, spreading his arms out in invitation.  “I don’t care Thor! There’s signage here for a reason, and I’m pretty sure it says ‘No Trespassing’.”  “I don’t suppose I could convince you it says ‘join your boyfriend in the water’?” Bruce sent him a stern look in reply and Thor sighed, swimming to the edge of the spring and pulling himself out.  “I know they’re pretty babe, but you can’t just throw yourself in there. I don’t want you to get arrested on an alien planet.” Bruce said as Thor climbed back to where Bruce was waiting.    “We won’t get arrested! I’ll just use the Bifrost and we’ll be gone before they know what happened” Bruce shot him another stern look as Thor gathered his shirt off the floor.  “We can appreciate them from up here. Look, you can see all the flora around the springs, and how it grows in patterns! That’s exciting!” Bruce exclaimed, gesturing at the view.  “But would you not like to see how they work from down there? You can even collect samples!” Thor pushed. Bruce sighed again. “Of course I would, but—Thor!” He let out a small scream as Thor bodily picked him up and jumped off the edge, into the water below. Thor didn’t let go until they were at the surface, and as soon as he did Bruce pushed away and splashed at him. “Thor! We can’t be down here!” He punctuated each word with a splash. Thor grinned, and responded with an even bigger splash.  “But we are down here Bruce. If we can’t be down here, how do you explain this?” Bruce couldn’t help himself as he chuckled. “Well, I suppose you have a point,” he conceded, “and no one else knows we’re here. So I suppose even if we shouldn’t be here, how would we know. No one’s told us we shouldn’t be here. For all I know that sign up there says ‘join your boyfriend in the water’.” Thor grinned even wider at that, and swum over to Bruce.  “Well, what should we do now that we’re both down here?” he smirked, snaking his arms around Bruce’s middle.  “I think you mentioned something about taking samples of the flora here.” Bruce smirked back, slipping out of Thor’s arms and taking off towards the bank. Before he had made it halfway, he felt a surge of water from behind him and turned just in time to be hit in the face with a massive wave. As Bruce spluttered, Thor laughed to himself, easily keeping himself above Bruce’s retaliatory splashes.  “Bruce darling, you’re going to need to accept the fact that you will never beat me at this game. I’m too strong.” Bruce just grinned at that, and lifted his hands in surrender.  “Alright, alright, I give up.” He sighed dramatically. Thor beamed at that, missing the smirk Bruce sent his way.  In the blink of an eye, a massive wave hit Thor directly in the face, knocking him back across the spring.  “HA. We win.” Thor turned at the sound of Hulk’s voice, and shot him a dazzling smile.  “Well I don’t think I can compete with that. At least, not safely.” They spent the next hour swimming together, breaking out into more than a few splash fights, until the sun began to dip below the horizon.  “Thor off.” They had been lounging in silence for a while on the edge of the spring when Hulk spoke, out of the blue. “Hmm? What do you mean by that?” Thor said, blinking. He’d almost fallen asleep laying on Hulk’s arm, watching the colours of the sky change.  “Thor off!” Hulk insisted, jostling Thor into full awareness as he sat up.  “Oh, right. Sorry, I almost fell asleep.” “No! Banner says Thor is off. Different.” “Ah.” Thor swallowed guiltily. He should’ve known Bruce would’ve noticed his behaviour recently. “I guess.” “Why?” Hulk prompted after Thor made no motion to continue. “It’s difficult to explain.” Thor started. He didn’t know whether he should lie or not. He didn’t want to have to tell Bruce his troubles, the empty feeling in the pit of his stomach every time he thought about the future. “I’ll tell you some other time. I promise.” He sighed inwardly at his own cowardice. He was delaying the inevitable, and his behaviour was obviously worrying Bruce. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it yet. Hulk grunted in agreement, but didn’t look too happy.  “How about you let Banner come back for a while? He wanted to collect samples from here, and we’ll have to leave soon.” Thor stood up and stood in front of Hulk’s slouched form, kissing his forehead. “Everything will be fine. Don’t worry.” Hulk looked up and nodded, before beginning to shrink back down. Thor knew it was selfish to ask for Bruce back, but he knew that Hulk wouldn’t let it go, that he would keep prying to protect Bruce from harm. He knew he had to tell Bruce, but he wanted a few more experiences with him before Bruce caught on to why they were travelling. Before he knew it, Bruce was looking up at him with a concerned expression.  “Thor, snap out of it.” Bruce waved in front of his face and he realised he’d been lost in his head. He mentally shook himself, clearing his head and smiling back at Bruce.  “Welcome back.” “Did we win?”

-

He had officially reached his breaking point. Even Hulk, in the back of Bruce’s mind, was constantly worrying about Thor, and he had just walked in on his boyfriend passed out on the kitchen bench. In his breakfast. Pulling him up, Bruce got one of Thor’s arms over his shoulder and half dragged him to the nearest couch, placing him down gently and standing back. Thor looked peaceful, and Bruce’s heart broke slightly, knowing how rare peace had come to him lately. He pulled up a chair in front of the couch and picked up the coffee table book Steve had bought for the main lounge. ‘Wonders of the World’. Bruce chuckled at that, flicking through to find places similar to the locations he and Thor had visited.  After almost an hour, Thor began to wake up. Bruce sensed him stirring and immediately put down the book.  “Thor? Are you alright?” Bruce didn’t miss the slight panic that crossed Thor’s face as he gained awareness, before it was quickly masked by a seemingly empty smile.  “Of course. I must have just fallen asleep on the couch, it’s fine.” he yawned, and Bruce frowned.  “Thor, you fell asleep on a stack of pancakes. I carried you here.” Thor looked a bit surprised at that. Bruce narrowed his eyes as Thor pushed himself into a seated position. He could sense Thor was avoiding the question on purpose, but he couldn’t predict what Thor’s reaction would be if he kept pressing. Then Thor stood up. “Well, if it’s as late as it looks, I need to—” “No.” Thor looked surprised at being cut off, Bruce noticed as he stood up himself. He was just as surprised himself, to be honest. He hadn’t meant to cut Thor off, but now that he had the attention he needed, he may as well continue. “What’s going on Thor? These trips, your behaviour recently, you need to tell me.” He said it sternly, making sure to hide his insecurity. He didn’t want Thor to sense his worry and flip the scene on him.  Thor’s face went through a multitude of emotions before settling on grief, and he fell back into the couch, bringing his hands to his face. Bruce’s frustration was forgotten, quickly being replaced by concern.  “I can’t… I can’t fix it.” Thor choked out, looking up at Bruce with eyes full of unshed tears. “I can’t find anything… I don’t want to lose you.” “What? Why are you losing me? I’m not planning on going anywhere sweetie.” Bruce questioned, crouching down and placing a comforting hand on Thor’s knee. Thor’s tears began falling, and he lifted his hands back to his face in a futile attempt to hide them. Bruce’s concern skyrocketed at that. “Babe, what’s going on? You know I would never leave you, right?” Thor took a moment to collect himself before responding, taking time to calm down while Bruce watched patiently.  “Not now, not even soon. But it is inevitable. Death takes all humans at such an early age, and I will be left alone for millennia.”  “Oh.” Bruce didn’t know how to respond to that. He had long ago come to an acceptance that he’d outlive all his friends, potentially spending millennia alone. But in all of his wildest fantasies of what could’ve been wrong, he would never have imagined this. Bruce had been thinking that if he was lucky Thor would have stuck around for a few years before he got bored and left Bruce to be alone again. It was nothing to do with Thor’s personality of course. Bruce just wasn’t that interesting. And after all, if you live for millennia, what the point of remaining with someone like him for that long. But Thor somehow wanted to spend his life with him.He knew it was an illogical response, but Bruce couldn’t stop himself from giggling at his realisation. As soon as he sees the extreme hurt and confusion in Thor’s eyes however, he instantly felt guilty. “Nono, sweetie, I’m not laughing cause you’re sad, it’s just…” He couldn’t help the next wave of giggles, before managing; “I’m pretty much immortal.” At Thor’s dumbstruck look, he continued gleefully “After the other guy, my aging process has pretty much stopped. All this grey hair’s from stress.”  After a shocked moment of silence, Thor started giggling too. He slid off the couch and knelt into an embrace, laughing in relief. They laughed until they were breathless, and Thor pulled back, hands on Bruce’s shoulders with a genuine smile.  “This is the best news I have ever received!” And then as an afterthought, Thor added “I’ve so many trips still planned for us.” That set Bruce off again, and they both devolved into another fit of laughter.  Tony walked in on the scene half an hour later and breathed a silent sigh of relief at the two, who were lying in a heap, still giggling with tears in their eyes. He was hoping the two would sort out the mess he caused. The guilt was eating at him. He backed out of the room and left the two in peace. 

-

Bruce couldn’t believe that Thor wanted to spend his life with him. It was almost surreal, thinking about spending the rest of his life with Thor. His boyfriend lay beside him completely wiped out, finally being able to rest after the stress of the past weeks. As he lay with his back pressed against Thor, he traced the ring he held in his palm. The realisations of the day still raced through his head, erasing all doubts he had held about proposing. He smiled to himself and closed his fist. Tomorrow, he’d do it. He fell asleep within minutes, the smile never leaving his face.

[a-mad-scientist-approaches]

The Cipher Conspiracy (7)

Phase 1: Collection Phase 2: Construction (this one!)

There's a bit of a time jump in this one, so if you find yourself wondering, "Wait, what's Stan doing here?" then that's your answer. It's only, like, a day, so don't freak out. This will only make sense after you finish reading the chapter, but, when we get to Ford's perspective right at the end, it's like we're going back in time a day to see what happened to him when the bros parted ways. Before that, it’s focused on what happened with the others. Things are going to be slightly out of sync until Chapter 9. :)

Adeline Marks is @hntrgurl13‘s OC, and I love her. So much. Honestly.

The Addiford ship belongs to @scipunk63 (not much of that in this one, sorry!)

Madeline McGucket a fun character from @missinspi.

AO3  1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11  12  13  14

Chapter 7: A Dream Come True

Chicago, Illinois (USA)    ∆

No matter what Ford did, he could not seem to move fast enough. It was the ice on the road, the people in the way, the very air in front of him that slowed him down. Something unspeakable was happening to his brother, he could practically feel it, and if Addi was with him . . .

He and Fiddleford burst into the bar, barrelling past the doorman like he was non-existent. They stopped.

Too slow, too slow!

Back room. Ford saw it instantly.

Move!

People blocked his path. Drawing his gun solved that problem.

Faster!

His ears were roaring and he did not think it was all to do with the blood rushing through his veins. The look on his face cleared the crowd quicker than his weapon. Ten steps to the door, five, zero, Fiddleford slammed it open before him, two men, backs exposed, blocking the view beyond, God help them if either of their captives were hurt, strike that, not taking any chances. Or prisoners.

He fired two silent gunshots and he saw the bodies fall to the floor. There was no need to worry about them anymore, so they dissipated. The only important thing was that Stan and Addi were safe now –

On the floor. Shape on the floor. Lying.

Blood on his shoes.

He was too late.

There was already a round little hole in Stan’s head, and his skin was cold, so cold, colder than the outside air. Red trickled down his face, pooled on the floor, lapped against Ford’s knees as he fell, fisting his hands into his brother’s shirt and yelling into his chest while that same muted sensation continued to crash down, muffling everything.

There was another bloodless hand lying next to Stan’s – smaller. Addi’s. The hair splayed underneath her elbow was matted with darkness. He could not bear to look any further and reached out to touch her.

Footsteps. He looked up. Bill stood above him, looking viciously delighted at the shining memory gun in his hand.

“ALRIGHT SIXER, LET’S GET TO WORK!”

Everything flashed yellow.

∆

It was an hour past midnight. Stan really shouldn’t be awake. On the other hand, it wasn’t like he was going to get to sleep anyway, so he might as well do something productive.

The apartment lights cast a soft glow on the scene. He had been rooting carefully through Ford’s bags, looking for some evidence of whatever all these machines and materials were going to be used for. It wasn’t like he could stop Ford: they were at the end of their collaboration, as he would put it. He was just trying to settle his own fears about his brother going back to whatever situation he was in.

“STAN!”

The door on the left side of the entrance hallway banged open, Ford hurtling out in his shirt and boxers, ruffle-haired and wild-eyed, half-asleep. He crashed into the door opposite, knocked frantically for a fraction of a second, then fell through into Stan’s room. There was a moment of silence, then –

“STAN!”

“Whoa, I’m right here bro,” Stan said from the living room, hurriedly shutting a bag full of machinery. He stood and went to see what was wrong.

Ford stumbled out again, letting out a shuddering breath when he saw him.

“Just a dream, just a dream,” he muttered. Stan winced in understanding, patting his brother’s shoulder soothingly. He didn’t think it would be too far out of field to think Russia was no longer part of either of their preferred holiday destinations.

Ford raised both hands to rub his face tiredly. One had a gun in it.

“Okay, whoa, no, let’s get you back to bed.” Stan said, snatching the firearm away as Ford looked at it in bleary confusion. “Come on, let’s go.”

“I’m not tired,” Ford protested, swaying.

“Load of crap,”

He steered Ford back into his room, the man falling asleep as soon as he flopped on top of the sheets. Good enough, Stan supposed.

His search was getting nowhere. He should head back to his own bed and try to sleep, unlikely as it was to happen. He was turning to go when a shine caught his eye.

That journal of Ford’s was lying on his bedside table, hallway light bouncing off the gold six-fingered hand on the cover. He hesitated before sitting down on the edge of the bed, picking it up, and flipping through. Starting with the most recent entry, he began to translate and read the code inside.

Russia was . . . not ideal. B changed the plans so that S and I would be split up, which was only the start of the problems we would eventually face. Quite apart from anything else, I do not have much time with my brother left before we part ways, and I am feeling now more urgently than ever how every second counts.

I cannot help but feel as though B was wrong to set up the meeting with the Mafia, regardless of how beneficial it was – we did retrieve the filament. Far be it from me to second-guess him, nevertheless, I am unable to say with any sort of confidence that I have complete faith in his wisdom now. On the other hand, I expect that the incident would not have rattled me so badly had I been alone. Alone, I do not stand to lose the people close to me, and nor can anyone be tempted to take them. Perhaps this is why B is so adamant about having solitary operatives.

One of the agents we have encountered on previous missions, F, proved to be a great help in refining the design for the device. Conversely, A and S found themselves in a situation no one should ever have to face. I swear I have never been more scared in my life. I cannot understand why either of them were able to look me in the eye afterwards. After all, I was responsible for what they had to endure. That being said, I am also immensely grateful that they seemed to place not even the slightest blame on me. They deserve a much better friend than myself. Hopefully I will be able to live up to that one day.

The writing continued, detailing the events of the night. Stan didn’t read any further.

“Sixer, you knucklehead . . .” he said softly, shaking his head at Ford’s lightly snoring form.

∆

Chicago DuPage County Airport was busy. An unbelievable amount of people crowded the waiting area.

“Must be winter holidays,” Stan said.

“What?” called Ford.

“I said it must be winter holidays!”

“What?!”

Stan waved a hand, dismissing the comment. They attempted to move further away from the crowds. At this rate, they wouldn’t hear the calls for their flights.

Not flight. Flights. Here was where they parted ways. Stan to California, Ford to Oregon. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen to them after this. Would it be another five years of silence? Longer? Would he never get another postcard in the mail? He could always drive up to Gravity Falls. He knew where Ford lived now. But would Ford want to stay in contact? Would he decide that his work was too important again, or – especially after Russia – would he decide it was too dangerous for anyone else?

A three-tone dial sounded loudly over the speakers. Ford’s flight was boarding.

“I guess this is it,” Ford said, distinctly dispirited.

“Yeah,” Stan said, trying to convince himself that no, his throat was not closing up.

“I’ll, um, have someone get the Stanmobile back to you,”

“Oh yeah! Right.” He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten about his car.

A silence bloomed, where neither of them were sure what to say. Ford cleared his throat and frowned at the ground.

“Goodbye, Stan,”

Stan looked at the ceiling. “Seeya rou – I mean, bye, Ford.”

Ford nodded shortly, then spun on his heel and left. Stan sighed. Good one. He looked for somewhere to sit down –

- and Ford crashed into him, hugging him tightly. Stan responded gladly.

“Don’t get too caught up in your work, nerd,” he said thickly.

“I won’t. Would it – would it be okay if I came to see you after it’s finished?”

He did not sniff, he did not just sniff. “Yeah. Yeah that would be – be good,”

With a lot more throat-clearing and gruff pats on the back, they both pulled away and gave each other smiles that were definitely not watery. Then Ford went off to find his plane for real.

Another announcement was made over the speaker.

“-to Sacramento, California has been delayed. Approximate waiting time is thirty hours. The next available flight to Sacramento is in twenty hours. We are not that sorry for the inconvenience. It’s not our flight, after all,”

Unbelievable.

He might as well head back to the hotel, then. Glumly, he realised that this time he’d have to pay for a room himself, since Ford had taken all his money with him. Well, it had only been two flipping weeks without seeing Carla, what was one more day? A damn mess, that’s what.

A jewellery store caught his eye as he passed.

He supposed if he was going to do this, he might as well do it properly.

Manhattan, New York (USA)    ∆

“Agent Marks, come in,”

Addi entered Jheselbraum’s office, still stretching out her muscles after the flight from Atlanta and the drive from LaGuardia. It was very early in the morning, and she was still recovering from the jet lag hanging around after the Russia flight.

“How are you?”

“Happy to be back,” Addi said firmly, approaching the desk and sitting in the chair opposite the director.

Jheselbraum examined her closely. “You don’t look like you slept well,”

From past experience, Addi knew that deflecting the question or outright lying would not do her any favours. Once, Jheselbraum had gone so far as to drive her home herself when she had kept insisting she was fine after a particularly rough mission.

Russia had been a new kind of rough. Things had never gotten that close before. Addi didn’t want to admit it to anyone, even herself, but at the moment fieldwork . . . didn’t seem as fun as it used to. She bet that the most danger the building’s analysts had been in lately was of a stapler fight if someone forgot to unjam the printer.

“We had a couple close calls on this one,” she eventually said, avoiding Jheselbraum’s eyes.

The other woman stood up and walked around to her side, signalling that it wasn’t necessary for Addi to stand. She leaned against the desk and placed her hand lightly on Addi’s shoulder.

“You’re safe now,” she said plainly, “and you’ll have a rest from dangerous missions for a few weeks.”

Her tone brooked no argument, and frankly, Addi wouldn’t have protested anyway.

“Take the rest of the day off,” Jheselbraum added, “have a warm bath, do what you want for a change. Put high-stakes chance games out of your mind.”

Addi started. She hadn’t included Russia in her report or debrief, for the obvious reason that it hadn’t been a sanctioned operation, and the not-so-obvious reason that there were only a few people she was willing to talk about it with – four, to be exact, including the woman in front of her.

“How did you know about that?”

“About what?” Jheselbraum smiled. Then she sat back down behind her desk as Addi took her leave.

San Jose, California (USA)    ∆

“It’s about dang time,” Fiddleford sighed longingly, when he had retrieved his luggage from the baggage claim. He was finally getting to go home. It had been far too long since he’d seen Tate’s drawings stuck on the fridge, heard Madeline singing as she moved around the house, and held them both in his arms as they settled down to watch TV. Just a few more hours, and after that a few more months, and then he wouldn’t have to leave home at all.

His phone rang.

“I sure hope this isn’t Jheselbraum about to tell me Ah can’t go home yet.” He looked at the caller ID. “That ain’t a good sign. Yes ma’am?”

“Agent McGucket, I’m sorry to do this to you, but you can’t go home yet,”

It wasn’t a surprise, but it still chafed. However, it was not like he was going to ignore whatever assignment Jheselbraum had for him; the work they did was important, even if he was tiring of it.

“What is it? And is it at all nearby?”

“Indeed it is. If there was anyone else in the area, I would have asked them, but unfortunately you are the only agent in several organisations who is close,” Jheselbraum said, genuine regret in her voice.

“Aren’t I lucky,”

“Do you recall our FBI contact, Carla McCorkle? I’ve decided it’s time to unite our investigations. I need you to head over there immediately and give her a copy of our findings. She’s at the FBI field office in Sacramento,”

Fiddleford sighed again. Nothing like a few hours driving after a few hours flying.

“You got it,”

“I promise that you’re free to spend a few days off as soon as you’re done. Again, I am so sorry,”

“Thank ya kindly, ma’am,” Fiddleford said with only the barest trace of acerbity, which he simultaneously regretted and did not.

Sacramento, California (USA)    ∆

Carla tried not to feel like she was being watched. It was something she was fighting more and more lately.

There was a spy in the FBI, specifically assigned to her and her work. She couldn’t tell anyone about it, because that would draw their attention. She didn’t know who it was, and she couldn’t investigate, because the spy might find out. Everyone was a suspect. The janitor had surprised her the other day and she’d almost punched him in the face.

When she received a text from Jheselbraum, she breathed more easily than she had in days. With no word from her, no one to confide in, and no one to take her mind off the situation, she’d been feeling extremely cut-off and isolated, not to mention simultaneously anxious and bored. She’d swept her office for bugs four times.

Carla’s fingers were busy tapping a tattoo on the desk until the office phone rang. She scrambled to pick it up.

“Agent McCorkle, there’s someone here to see you. Says his director sent him here for a meeting with you?”

“Send him up!” She tried not to sound too eager.

A minute later, a weary-looking man with glasses and a green suit stepped into her office and closed the door behind him.

“Hi, I’m Senior Special Agent Carla McCorkle,” Carla said, holding out her hand.

“Agent Fiddleford McGucket. Jheselbraum sent me,” Fiddleford said, shaking it.

“Please,” Carla beseeched as they sat, “tell me you have something good. Our case has gone so stale that yesterday Agent Wexler tried to get the Special Agent-in-Charge to tell me to give it up.”

Fiddleford frowned slightly and handed over a thumb drive. “Ah can’t say whether this’ll do ya much good, but it’s worth a try. That there’s everything we’ve managed to collect on the Cipher Wheel,”

Anticipation stirred in her as she took the drive and inserted it into her computer. It contained a single file. Okay, so that’s a little unexpected, but this is the work of an entire agency here. It must be good.

She downloaded the document.

“Symbols?” she said blankly, scrolling through. The document contained pictures of maybe ten symbols, the locations said symbols had been found, and underneath each a detailed report of any unlawful, suspicious or just plain unusual activity in the area at the time it had been discovered.

Fiddleford grimaced. “Yep. Just symbols. Ah expect it doesn’t help much?”

“Oh no, no,” said Carla hurriedly.

“It’s alright if ya say so,”

“No, no, I’m sure it will be . . . of some use . . . maybe. I’ll have to go over what we have again, see if any crop up,”

“Good luck.” Fiddleford said. “We think those symbols are a kind of signature for Cipher Wheel operatives. If they contact someone, this is how they show they’re workin’ for Bill Cipher, or maybe it’s just to show who they are without giving away their names. We’ve only managed to get these from reconstructin’ burned documents. They’re thorough, whoever they are,”

“Tell me about it,” Carla muttered. She ejected the USB and put it safely in a pocket. “I suppose all that’s left now is to-”

The door banged open.

“Hey darl’, guess who’s back!”

Stan practically leapt into the room, motormouth running at full speed. “We are finally in the same place after two weeks and three days, so grab your coat because I’m taking you out-” He spotted Fiddleford and slammed on the figurative brakes, an astonished look on his face. Fiddleford’s mouth dropped open. Carla noticed everything.

Funnily enough, the first question she voiced was not “How do you two know each other?” because something more surprising had occurred to her.

“Did you cut your hair?”

“Uh, yeah,” Stan touched his shortened locks quite vulnerably, looking more like a deer in headlights with every passing moment.

Not only had Stan foregone the mullet, he looked like he was wearing some new clothes, too. He’d really neatened up while he was away.

Wait.

A thrill went through her.

He was back! He was finally back!

“You work for the FBI?” asked Fiddleford finally, looking baffled, but there was a faint grin appearing on his face which showed he was pleased to see Stan. Not enemies then.

“With the FBI,” Carla and Stan corrected at the same time.

“So what were ya doin’ overseas?”

“Actually, I’d quite like to know that as well. And why you two have met,” added Carla.

“Can’t say,” said Stan and Fiddleford quickly.

“Mission secrecy,” elaborated Fiddleford.

Stan addressed the Oracle agent. “What are you doing here?”

“That’s classified,” responded Carla and Fiddleford together. A strange mixture of emotions swirled around inside her. There was irritation and curiosity about what these two had gotten up to overseas, but they were quickly dissipating in an onslaught of sheer joy – she might just refrain from interrogating the men! For a maximum of two hours and thirty minutes!

Fiddleford suppressed a laugh at the way their inquiries were going. “Well, nice ta meet ya, Agent McCorkle, and it was good seein’ ya again, Stan.” He said, getting up to leave. “I doubt this’s the last time, either.”

“At the rate this is going, we’ll probably end up working together,” agreed Stan, shaking Fiddleford’s hand.

The agent went to the door, with a last amazed look in Stan’s direction.

“Oh! Wait!” Carla exclaimed before he could leave, her responsibility to her job shining through despite her excitement to spend some time with Stan. “Don’t you need the FBI’s informa-”

“Lalalala!” said Fiddleford loudly, sticking his fingers in his ears. “NolalalalalaI’mgoin’homelalalalahere’smanumberifyaneeditandonlyifyouneeditmindyoulalala!”

He tossed her a card that was blank except from a phone number in the centre, then hurried away, presumably before anyone could call him back and delay his departure.

“I like him,” Carla decided. Then she vaulted over her desk and flung herself at Stan, wrapping him in her arms and not wanting to let go.

“Whoa!” Stan laughed as he caught her and hugged her tightly. “I’ve missed you,” he mumbled into her hair.

“Missed you too,”

Stan let go. “Do you have work to do?”

Carla’s answer was a frown.

“Well, not anymore! We’re going out!” He grabbed her hand and dragged her out the door, snagging her coat and bag on the way. Carla didn’t complain.

Manhattan, New York (USA)    ∆

Addi could feel tension that she hadn’t even been aware of draining out of her. She was curled up in a blanket, sitting in her pyjamas, watching her favourite movie, and eating snacks. She was free to do what she liked for the first time in a long, long while, and as a result her head was beginning to droop with the peace of it all. She felt completely safe.

The phone seemed to blare into the silence, shocking her out of drowsiness. She tripped over her blanket as she shot off the couch towards the kitchen, stumbling over it and using an athletic manoeuvre to roll when she hit the ground and come up right where the phone was.

“Yes? Hello?” she said through uneven breaths.

“Agent Marks,” said an unfamiliar voice, “these are your superiors,”

Addi was quiet. “You mean . . . as in Jheselbraum’s overseers?”

“Yes,”

“The in-charge people?”

"Yes,”

“The head honchos?”

“Yes,”

“The-”

“Yes. We are contacting you for a very important reason,”

“Why directly? Why not through Jheselbraum? That’s how missions are usually assigned,”

“This is a one-time scenario. Rest assured, it will not happen again. To you, or any of Oracle Division, for that matter. It is for the best that we . . . shake things up. For good,”

Addi decided not to press any of her questions yet. The person on the other end of the line seemed rather preoccupied.

“We are giving you a mission. It is essential that you start immediately,”

The last of Addi’s good mood evaporated. “Understood,” she said, containing her frustration.

“At the FBI field office in Sacramento, an investigation is being undertaken to an unacceptable end. Efforts to derail it have failed.”

“What’s being investigated?”

There was a pause, during which Addi became certain that she was asking questions the other person did not know the answers to. She wondered if the superiors had superiors.

“That is not of your concern,” was the eventual reply. “All you need to know is that drastic action is required. Something that will put all investigations on hold while the case in question is altered to reflect more suitable facts.”

Something was knotting in the pit of Addi’s stomach.

“An assassination,”

“Who?” she managed.

“Start with the Special Agent-in-Charge. The Senior Special Agent leading the investigation may also be necessary if she continues to pursue this. You are expected in Sacramento immediately,”

The only thing able to permeate Addi’s numb mind was the thought that this flight would be a muscle-cramping six hours long. It was only eight in the morning, so plenty of time to get there.

She would be thankful for that, but really it depended on whose perspective it was considered from.

Gravity Falls, Oregon (USA)    ∆

Ford sighed and dumped his bags in his living room. Over two weeks away, and the only thing different about the place was the fine layer of dust covering everything.

Although . . .

Perhaps it was just the strangeness of actually being at home. Yes, it must be. It was bordering on superstitious to think that abiotic surroundings could be imbibed with emotional qualities.

Nevertheless . . .

It did seem to be missing a certain vibrancy he had become accustomed to of late. He surely had not felt this alone when he had left Gravity Falls.

He was torn from his thoughts by the sound of the basement door opening.

“Welcome back, smart guy!” Bill grinned, spreading his arms grandly as he walked into the living room.

“Bill,” Ford greeted, shoving away thoughts about how alike the smile of the man in front of him was to the one he had seen in last night’s dream.

“Got everything we need, I see. Alright Sixer, let’s get to work!”