#still need to build the real ranch house but i want to wait for the new build items and all that

[tricoufamily]

they had to hire kit as a ranch hand on very short notice. they bought an old camper from the 70s and put it on the property for him to live in. we're not sure which is weirder, that kit showed up with nothing when he moved in or that they hung a goat head in the kitchen before he got there.

[thesimscurator]

Career World Horse Ranch update is now live!

It’s finally here! Sorry this update is so late; a minor but time-consuming home repair emergency stopped my work on it for about a month. But now my real-life house is fixed and the update is finally out! The Career World save file, Career Challenge Chart, and the list of study abroad opportunities have all been updated to incorporate horses and all their associated gameplay. And the delay meant I got to add in the new Home Chef Hustle features, as well, so it’s not all bad.

Just because I already teased it, I’ll start with...

Expansion of the Actor Career:

In addition to all the sound-stage filming that comes automatically with the actor career, and the live stage acting I had already added in the form of the Starlight Theatre venue, there are now three on-location filming spots: one for Westerns, one for costume dramas, and one for fantasy/medieval/pirate projects. Each on-location filming site is a residential lot which permanently houses several horses and three behind-the-camera crew members: a horse wrangler/stunt rider, a stylist, and a cinematographer. When cast in certain gigs, your actor should now immediately (but temporarily) move in with one of these households, in the following configuration:

If you are cast in...

Making Moosic

Last Town in the West

The Sheriff from Alpha Centauri

...move your actor sim in with the PBP Western Crew in Chestnut Ridge.

If you are cast in…

Dignity & Decorum

Of Tea & Treachery

...move in with the PBP Costume Drama Crew in Henford-on-Bagley.

And if you are cast in…

Salty Suds

Dead Sea Adventures

Tournament of Honor

Treasures of Aarbyville

...move in with the PBP Fantasy Crew in Windenburg. All other gigs you should just do as normal; they have no corresponding on-location filming site.

Once on location, you will find an area set up to house you, marked with a star door (on the Western set, this is a trailer; on the other two, a room within the massive building), as well as living areas for the other crew members, a dressing room / wardrobe area, a video editing space with the video station and lots of drones (plus still cameras for doing promo shots), and locations for filming acting scenes. In the case of Chestnut Ridge, the acting area is on a separate lot located right next door to the living area with the trailers.

Your job while you are here is to get footage, in costume, of your sim (and potentially their co-stars or the horse wrangler acting as a stunt double) acting out scenes on location and riding on horseback through the appropriate landscapes. (Mostly. The pirate stuff may not need to be too heavy on the horseback scenes, but there are plenty of places to shoot acting scenes on the battlements of the castle overlooking the sea, which is why I rolled those gigs in with the fantasy stuff. Plus even pirates get embroiled in problems on land sometimes, and have to make a quick escape on horseback. Everything you do on an actual ship is shot during sound-stage day.) I strongly suggest also taking some still photos as promotional material and keepsakes for both the crew household and your sim.

If your actor sim has no horseback riding skill to start with and looks ridiculous on the horse, you may have to spend some time riding around and skilling up in your regular street clothes before you get all dolled up and dive into filming—unless, of course, you want to get footage of your sim getting bucked off the horse for the movie, in which case get into costume immediately and fire up the drone right away; the cinematographer will edit out all the extra footage of you looking stupid while you wait to get bucked off.

At some point during your on-location filming adventure, you will be called back to Del Sol Valley for the set sound-stage filming day. Don’t worry about this; Plumbob Pictures is a wealthy studio, and can totally afford to send a chopper to whisk you back to Del Sol Valley for a day of filming on set before dropping you right back on location. Take your time and don’t rush it; you are welcome to remain on location as long as it takes to get all the footage you want to get. A word to the wise, however: you will only be able to call your director and co-stars to the on-location filming site BEFORE sound-stage filming day, so if you want to record any two-person scenes, sword fights, or all-cast promo shots with your co-stars, you’ll need to prioritize doing that first and getting your horseback riding shots later. Lucky for you if you’re filming Tournament of Honor, jousting scenes are done in full armor that completely conceals the sim, so horse wrangler Cheyenne Blackwolf is able to act as the stunt double for your co-stars for footage where you need two sims on horseback. Jim Chooli, the horse wrangler in Chestnut Ridge, is a semi-retired actor himself who frequently plays minor characters in the Westerns when a second sim is needed there. And the entire costume drama crew is happy to pop into powdered wigs and ballgowns when extra sims are needed to flesh out a ball or dinner scene.

Because you live with them in the same household during this time, you will be able to control not only the horse wrangler as a second horse-rider when need be, but also the stylist to costume both your own actor sims and your non-controllable co-stars during on-location filming. Likewise, you can direct the cinematographer to control the drones, take photographs, and even operate the non-functional camera equipment for maximum realism. The end goal of on-location filming is to have the cinematographer take all the drone footage you’ve captured, edit it together into a single reel, maximize the quality, and “send it off to the studio”—a.k.a. upload it via the video station. If you get the notification that the footage has been nominated for an award, you may want to remain with the crew household through the following Sunday and all go to the Starlight Accolades together—you could even get some red-carpet shots! If not, that’s a wrap! You’re welcome to move back to your regular residence in Del Sol Valley while you prepare for the next audition.

Chestnut Ridge Townies:

You’ll notice that with this pack, I’ve been a lot more liberal with adding townies who didn’t originally exist than I usually am. There are two reasons for this: 1) there are so many ways to make money in this pack that I didn’t think I could reasonably cover all the new career options it enabled me to add with only the original townies, and 2) Chestnut Ridge does not spawn its own locals like Sulani and Mt. Komorebi do, so if you don’t add more townies, there aren’t really enough western-dressed, horse-riding folks to flesh out the community lots—and I’m sorry, but Bella Goth just looks really stupid doing the cowpoke dance in that tight dress. So for the new townies, I used some gallery sims (credited in the Chestnut Ridge credits post, coming next), but I also used a lot of the “play with genetics” feature to expand the families of sims who shipped with the pack. Everybody gets a brother! Ok, well, not everybody, but a lot of people got brothers. So here’s what I did with townies:

In early testing, I learned to my disappointment that Sienna Grove works like the special townies from Cottage Living, not like the ones from High School Years—which is to say that the instant you start to play her, she is immediately and permanently replaced as horse trainer with a randomly generated townie. I wanted to retain her as horse trainer in this save file, so (like with Sarah Scott before her), I immediately kicked her out to the homeless bin so people wouldn’t try to play her and lose her the job. That said, for some reason this makes her un-inviteable to places just like Roberto Crinkletop, the mysterious rancher. To counteract this somewhat, I’ve had every household in town make her a keyholder, so she’ll occasionally drop by of her own accord. And of course, you can always come to her for a visit: she is outside the equestrian center from 7am to 7pm every single day, so she’s not hard to find. And pro tip: you can always invite her for a stayover, but for some reason only from the relationships panel, not the phone. The programming on this is weird, man.

Don and Duke Gooseman are now actual champions, as per their backstory. This means that Duke has the special “Champion Horse” trait that gives his foals better qualities, so if you’re going to get into horse breeding as a moneymaking enterprise, I suggest just getting a mare and having her breed with Duke. House rule, though: your sim has to gift Don a thousand simoleons for the privilege. There is now an actual stud service in town! And Don’s been doing a little studing of his own—I’ve made him aromantic since he’s such a loner, but as a sim who loves the outdoors, he constantly gets wants to woohoo in the bushes: so he is now woohoo partners with Roberto Crinkletop, with whom he has the occasional Brokeback-Mountain-style al fresco tryst. Plus I gave him a cat. Don just seems like a cat guy to me.

The Nectar Making Duo have opened a duo of businesses: a country nectary where they live, grow ingredients, and craft and age their nectars, and a small shop in town where they sell them. They’re in a fair amount of debt (used the university student loan system for this), so you can have fun digging them out and making the businesses profitable! They have three main ways to make money: holding ranch gatherings at the nectary (which are basically tasting events to bring in new clientele), using the sales table at the nectary to sell bottles direct-from-the-source, and manning the retail store in town. Some quirks to know about these things:

1) You can’t do a sale on the sales table at the same time you’re throwing a ranch gathering. I was hoping you could, but starting a sale immediately ends the gathering. Sucks, but that’s the way it is.

2) The front door of the nectary is the open-barn-doors arch to allow street sale customers into the nectary so they can buy from the sales table. If you swap these out for real, closed doors, the customers will just hang out nervously at the edge of the lot and then disappear, never buying anything. So if you want to use the sales table, you have to leave the arch. That said, an arch can’t be set as the front door for the purposes of other households coming to visit, so I have put a small, unusable wooden door off to the side of the barn doors and set that as the front door. If you’re visiting the nectary as another household, just knock on this door to make the building appear solid.

3) The nectars available for purchase at the retail store include a mix of qualities and levels of aging. There’s nothing there that is poor quality, and nothing that isn’t aged at all, but the bottles range from lightly aged to finely aged and some are normal rather than excellent. This is so that you can come to the store as a buyer while playing another household and have the option to either splurge on a high-quality bottle or not break the bank and go for something more modestly priced, according to your funds and storyline. Plus bonus: The Nectar Making Duo sub-contract with a few outside suppliers for specialty nectars they can’t brew themselves, so you can find occult nectars here, as well.

And on that note . . . to get Marissa Tracey in with the occult sims who brew the specialty nectars, and also because I think she looks a great deal like him, I have made Marissa—and her new twin brother, Chip—the products of a youthful indiscretion between Wolfgang Wilder and a human sim from Chestnut Ridge. They were both born as “dormant wolves” rather than full-blown werewolves and raised by their mother under her last name, but they know Wolfgang and are friends of the Moonwood Collective. Stocking the Collective’s moonpetal nectar got Marissa’s name circulating in the supernatural community, and now she contracts with the Straud Estate and the famed Madam Zoe herself, as well.

Aside from getting a dog, The Grove family have only gotten minor edits to careers and clothing; I put Umber in the musician career as per his backstory, stuck Juniper in the athlete career (under the new sub-category of show rider!) and let her hair down. It bothers me when the sims team gives two pre-made townies in the same world the exact same hairstyle in the exact same color, as it makes them too easy to confuse. So just like with Cottage Living, where I changed Rashida Watson’s hair to the blue-dyejob teen hair from Parenthood so she wouldn’t be confused with Cecelia Kang from behind, Juniper has now left the side braid to Sienna and adopted a more flowing-hair look that will accent those horse jumps. Oh, and Umber also started a band; he’s the leader of club of local musicians who play down at the saloon most nights—though if you feel like doing an afternoon gig on occasion, I also suggest meeting at the Hay Now! Festival Grounds sometimes.

Look, with the things in this pack, I just couldn’t resist making “Chip and Dale, Rescue Ranchers,” so I did. Chip Tracey (new brother of Marissa Tracey) and his husband, Dale Chooli (new brother of Juniper Grove) run a rescue ranch / petting zoo where children from all worlds can come to learn about animals of all types. The money they get from throwing “ranch animal day” events for kids is pretty modest to support two rescue horses, a cow, a llama, a bunch of mini goats and mini sheep, several chickens, a ton of stray dogs and cats, and some semi-wild rabbits, foxes, and birds, but it sure is cute! And they can always teach kids to ride and bring mini sheep to kids’ birthday parties on the side.

Juniper and Dale’s father, Jim Chooli, has also joined the save file as the horse wrangler for Plumbob Pictures’ on-site Western filming location. He lives in one of the many trailers on location in Galloping Gulch, alongside Barb Henderson (stylist, saloon singer, and local icon) and Giovanni Carrettino, a young cinematographer from Tartosa looking to make his own “penne Westerns.” Jim cares for and trains the studio’s three horses, Molasses, Gun, and Beauty, who play the roles of native American war horse, cowboy horse, and wild stallion, respectively.

Sienna Grove’s former lot is now home to an elderly horse trader named Tallulah Heiheiwuti, who has a bunch of family in Evergreen Harbor. One of them, her eldest granddaughter, has come to stay with her and learn the family business. The problem? She’s afraid of horses! I figured someone had to be, and that storyline just made sense. It also means there is a new family in Evergreen Harbor, which was pretty underpopulated before—Talullah’s son and his wife and kids are now fleshing out the community there and justifying the existence of the Coast Salish art swatch on the Horse Ranch wall hanging, while also giving you the new opportunity to play the botanist branch of the gardener career or the life of a pop-up cupcake baker.

Other things that have changed:

This save file has never featured Faiz Jaleel, the flower-seller from the My Wedding Stories pack, because neighborhood stories killed him off before I had quite figured out that feature and how to manage it. But now, thanks to Roberto Crinkletop’s secret family recipe, he has been resurrected and is in the save file as a living sim! I could not, unfortunately, figure out a way to reinstate him as the flower cart NPC, but he still has all the grapevine gossip interactions about owning it, so just pretend he’s hired extra help to man it sometimes when he’s busy. He has moved into his old childhood home in the big square in Tartosa with the other Piazza Dwellers, where he is trying to get a second business venture, a food stand, off the ground. He’s torn between the classic Tartosan cuisine of pizza and leaning further into the romantic atmosphere with heart-shaped waffles. Can you help him decide and make his new business a success?

Speaking of returning from the netherworld, the save file also never featured Felix Psyded, ghostly founder of the University of Britechester, because the game culled him before I discovered coolspear’s “Delay Ghost Culling Indefinitely” mod. Now that I have it, I have re-downloaded the original Felix from the gallery and made him the resident ghost of Lord Drake Men’s Dorm on the UBrite campus. How did I do this, you say? I’ve enrolled him in the History degree at UBrite in order to make him a proper resident of the dorm. You can keep him there practically indefinitely by having him enroll in only one class at a time while you play with other focus sims in this dorm—and if he runs out of classes and completes the degree, just start in on another degree. By my count, this should enable him to keep haunting this dorm for 156 in-game weeks—and that’s only if he never fails a single class! If you alternate having him fail and succeed so he does it slower but never gets kicked out, that’s 312 weeks, or basically eternity in sim years. He’s here forever! Also, in setting this up, I realized I had not included any woohoo locations in the UBrite dorms, which is completely unacceptable. Who’s ever heard of a dorm without a hookup spot?! I have now added closets to both the men’s and women’s dorms in order to fix this grave oversight. My deepest apologies.

I had previously not moved Wolfgang Wilder in with the other Moonwood Collective sims because I wanted him to remain the NPC librarian in Moonwood Mill, but in the process of making him related to his new children (Marissa and Chip Tracey), I discovered that somewhere along the way the game had already booted him out of that role for some reason. Just like with Faiz, I couldn’t figure out how to reinstate him, so now he has retired from librarianship, moved in with the rest of the Collective, and embraced his writing full-time—which means he still spends a lot of time at the library, since the Collective Cabin is off-the-grid and doesn’t have a computer.

On the subject of townies with NPC jobs, there’s news on the Scotts, the not-quite-playable family I booted to the homeless bin to prevent Sara Scott being supplanted as pub owner in Finchwick. You still can’t play her without losing her job, but her husband Simon is totally fair game, because he isn’t any kind of special villager NPC. So, with the introduction of a large estate needing filming crew for the long-running TV series “Dignity & Decorum,” I decided to rescue him from the homeless bin and make him the cinematographer on the Plumbob Pictures costume drama crew. This has actually allowed me to make the Scotts semi-playable, because even though Sara is still in the homeless bin, I was able to get Simon to ask her to be his NPC roommate, and that completely works! As long as she’s only a roommate and not technically part of the household, she can both be the pub owner and live in the swanky suite of rooms I’ve marked off for her and Simon within the manor house. Admittedly, she’s rarely there because pub hours are serious business, but still! That said, in my experience the game tends to get rid of roommates when you switch households, so you may need to reinstate her as roommate if you want to play with this arrangement down the line. Luckily, that’s very easy; just head down to the pub where she’ll be working and re-invite her under the “roommate…” menu.

Derek McMillan and Ian Moody, the stitchery shop owners in Henford-on-Bagley, are getting on in years and have been finding the crops and the chickens and the llamas and the store a lot to manage, so they’ve made a few strategic decisions to help themselves out. First and foremost, they have refocused on their mission to provide beautiful, high-quality colored wool to their customers by swapping out their chicken coop for a small sheepfold, which they have stocked with a multicolored array of mini sheep dyed every color of the rainbow (except for the colors already covered by their two llamas). They’ve also hired a ranch hand to assist with animal care and the garden, so they can focus their own energy on the shop and their sewing circle club, which is going better than ever now that it’s associated bug has been fixed!

The Watson family has moved off the hilltop to a smaller, flatter, and more organized farm with fewer camera problems down in the valley of Old New Henford. They have added a small flock of sheep to their livestock, and adopted an elderly Irish Draught horse named Dobber. Rashidah has already knitted him a set of leg warmers and a saddleblanket, and animal-lover Imran is learning to ride!

Lucha Harjo has started a side hustle selling popcorn down on the pier in Copperdale. It’s more a hobby than a career move right now, but oh, that satisfying crunch when those teens enjoy their popcorn to the tinny sounds of the ferris wheel music! Truly heartwarming.

Bob Pancakes randomly came home the other day with a tattoo of kitchen utensils on his forearm. Eliza thinks she smells a midlife crisis coming on . . .

Celebrity chef Clara Bjergsen decided that she wanted a whole new expanded kitchen, so she bought one. It’s not like she doesn’t have the money. Her current flavor obsession: reconnecting with her childhood and making heritage memories for her daughters through haute cuisine experimentation with traditional Nordic waffles.

On the opposite end of that career trajectory, aspiring chef Hugo Villareal has been hard at work spending his father’s ill-gotten gains on lots of new equipment to revive the old nectary the family moved into. With his new nectar press, oak barrels, bottle storage racks, pizza oven, stand mixer, and a block of parmigiana and a grater always at the ready, Hugo is all prepped to begin his journey into vineyard-to-table nectars perfectly paired with lovingly crafted Italian dishes. And he’s really leaning into it, too—he also bought himself a whole set of food-themed shirts, so he’s always repping his future career goals. If he could only graduate high school early and get started...

Refugio dei Pirati Resort in Tartosa discovered a long-forgotten Roman bath structure beneath its foundations and, deciding this was too good a find to ignore, tore down their entire building to excavate, restore, and construct an entrance to the thing. They subsequently rebuilt completely from the ground up, and now boast a whole new building with brand-new amenities like a private reception hall alongside refurbished old favorites like the couples’ spa. To celebrate their grand re-opening, they rebranded as the Amorosa Resort. If you’ve never vacationed in Tartosa, now might be the time to start—especially with all the new pizza ovens and functional nectar cellars popping up all over the place!

The shops on the Sulani Promenade have gotten in a whole new shipment of swimsuits thanks to the Poolside Splash Kit. They are now on display and for purchase from a series of colorful new mannequins. Whether you’re looking for tourist-y beach wear or wetsuits and snorkel gear, they’ve got you covered!

That's not the only new stock in this update: The Gnome’s Arms in Finchwick has stocked its behind-the-bar shelves with nectar. It’s not top-of-the-line stuff like you’ll find in Chestnut Ridge, but it does the trick!

SimCity Pizza, the oldest restaurant on The Waterfront in San Myshuno’s Spice Market, has finally, grudgingly, updated their equipment to include a modern pizza oven alongside their so-old-the-food-inspector-banned-them-from-using-it wood fired one. They’re having a “create your own flavor” special right now, where customers can make their own pizzas using off-menu flavors and ingredients. It’s really revitalized the place!

Llamante Llama Ranch in Selvadorada wants all animals to feel welcome, including those who are traveling with their humans. They have converted some previously unused space in the front into a small horse paddock, and added some items for cats and dogs, as well. If you’re looking to go horseback riding around Selvadorada (gorgeous, by the way!), this is the place to rent for your vacation. There are also a ton of juice barrels lined up behind the bar in town—you’re welcome to use a couple of them for horse training, if you want.

San Sequoia has a few more items in the open portions of worlds, including a newly functional lemonade stand alongside the makeshift one down on the docks! It’s a great place to sell ice cream, lemonade, or scout cookies (though you’ll need to make those yourself at home beforehand).

There are no new residents in Brindleton Bay. Nope, not a one. Not a single living soul. But the price has gone down on the old lightkeeper’s house on Deadgrass Isle. For some reason, you can now move in there completely for free…

* * *

Thanks for your patience, and for your votes on the expansion of the actor career! Head to the original Career World save file post to download the update and enjoy!

[mrs-willow]

"Home" gale cleven x OC

Chapter 4

January 17, 1937, was a cold day. It had snowed in the valley most of the night and into the morning. On these colder days, Richard would drive Gale and Anna to school and pick Gale up from Anna's house in the afternoon once he was done with work. Typically, the day had warmed up by the time school let out, so there was no danger in the pair walking home. It was about half an hour before school was supposed to start when the Cleven men pulled up in front of Anna's house. After waiting a minute, Gale saw Anna shuffle out of her front door, backpack in hand, and carefully picking her way through the snow-covered yard to reach the car. She had a long coat covering her arms and her stocking-covered legs. A thick scarf wrapped around her neck covered her ears and most of her face. Gale reached over and opened the door for the girl so she could hop in the cab without letting the warm air out. 

“Good morning!” The girl chirped as she settled into her seat. As the pair grew over the years, it was no longer an easy fit for Richard, Gale, and Anna. Richard, standing at six feet, was only a few inches taller than his rapidly growing nephew, who stood at five feet eight, and Anne, while not six feet, was tall for her age, standing at five feet six inches. Gale would be celebrating his sixteenth birthday soon and could not wait to steal the old truck for himself so it could just be the two friends joyriding to school and home every day. The pair chatted about classes and friends over the short drive to the school, with Richard occasionally chiming in. When they arrived at the large school building, the pair entered, dropping their heavy coats off in their lockers. As the two parted ways, Gale watched Anna scurry off to class, meeting a few of her friends just outside the classroom. The group chatted for a moment until they all dispersed. Gale turned to walk to his class, wishing for warmer days to come. 

Truthfully, Gale loved his Uncle. He had given the boy so much that his father hadn’t bothered. He had a real home, but he still longed for the days of summer and spring when it was just he and Anna against the world. Like it or not, the two had grown up; Gail had more and more responsibilities at the ranch, and Anna had her duties at home. Gail spent nearly all his free time on horseback, helping Richard and the others handle chores. It seemed that something new needed to be fixed every day. Anna spent all the time she wasn’t at school helping her mother. She helped her mother keep the house, cook, and all the other tasks that seemed to pile up. Three days a week, Maria volunteered at the church nearly until dark, leaving Anna alone in the afternoons to do the chores and make dinner for the family. Over the years, the young girl had developed an insatiable need to read. Anything she could get her hands on, she would devour. This pesky need to grow up seemed to leave Anna and Gale little time for each other, especially during the school year. Gale hated to admit it, but sometimes he was glad that Anna kept her distance from her male peers, unlike some friends already starting to date. It's not that Gale wanted to date Anna himself; they were just friends, but he couldn’t imagine having to share the little time they had together with a boyfriend who was probably not even half as good enough for his Anna. 

Anna missed Gale terribly; she wished they could be six and seven again instead of fifteen and sixteen. When you’re six and seven, there is nothing to worry about besides climbing trees and collecting remarkable rocks. Anna enjoyed her newfound responsibilities, and her Papa said it would turn her into a fantastic wife someday, but she wished she could just spend all day under the Oak Tree reading with Gale sitting next to her. She had given the matter a lot of thought and didn’t mind the idea of being a wife to someone, but only if it was someone like Gale.

 “I mean, who could replace Gale?” she thought as she waited for her class to begin. Maybe she could just be his wife, and they could go on and do the same things they have always done, just live in the same house! That's what husbands and wives do. After all, they are just best friends who live together. 

Anna's thoughts were interrupted by a loud laugh directly to her right. She turned to see a few of her friends huddled around each other, whispering. 

“Hi guys!” she greeted as she walked over, eager to join the joke. 

“Oh, Anna,” one girl gushed, “I can’t believe you and Gale aren’t together yet.” Her comment led to an onslaught of giggles and whishful sighs. 

“Why would I want to date him?” Anne questions, confused at the comment. 

“Why? I mean, have you seen him?” 

“Yeah, but-” Anna didn’t get to finish before the group started gushing over his hair, or his arms, or his eyes.

Shocked, Anna returned to her seat when the teacher called for attention. She had never realized her Gale was so desirable. She knew she liked to look at him more than the other boys at school, but that didn’t mean she thought he was cute.  

[itsthesinbin]

Early Game Tip/Guide for Stardew Valley

A friend of mine has been having trouble with the EARLY early game, so I wanted to help them out. This’ll cover the very early game, and then I’ll cover some tips for the FULL first year. I’ll be putting the whole thing under a read more so it isn’t cluttering ppl’s dashboards.

I’ll have a general idea of what to do the first 3 days or so, and then move to general tips/year 1 tips!

If this gets good reception, I might do other guides if people need them! Just ask and ye might receive sfdgfhfsdgfs.

I’ll also update this if I remember something else or get an idea from someone!

Day 1

First thing, of course, is get your parsnips planted and watered. Go to Pierre’s afterwards. With your 500g, buy 3 green beans, 3 potatoes, and 2 cauliflower. While cauliflower, overall, sells for more, invest in POTATOES in your first spring. You’ll sometimes get an extra potato when you harvest them, so you can get more money overall.

Make sure to get 50 wood for a chest as well. Put your extra tools away that you aren’t using for extra storage space.

After those are planted, go to the south (Cindersap Forest, where Marnie’s Ranch and Leah’s cabin are located). Go ALL the way south to the sewer exit at the bottom right of the area, over two small bridges connected by a tiny island with a single maple tree on it. The area down south will sometimes spawn spring onions. Check this area every day in spring in your first year. Spring onions don’t give you MUCH energy, but it’ll still be good in the long run.

Chop down as many trees as you can or pick up any foragables you see (check the beach as well for foragable shells) to try and reach level 1 foraging. Once you reach level 1, you can get tree seeds- acorns, pinecones, and maple seeds- and can craft field snacks.

Do NOT chop down the tree stumps right now unless they’re in the way! Tree stumps still spawn tree seeds, and chopping down stumps do NOT give you foraging experience! Only chopping the tops of the trees give you experience!

Check ALL the trash cans (just make sure a villager doesn’t see you bc they hate it), because sometimes food items or algae/seaweed pop out. 

Don’t be afraid to eat foragables like dandelions, leeks, and horseradishes as well for energy.

Overall, if you can’t get enough energy-restoring items, don’t be afraid to go to bed early day 1.

Day 2

If you didn’t do it yesterday due to energy, go around your farm and scythe ALL the weeds/fiber you can. Sometimes they drop mixed seeds. Mixed seeds are random seeds you can plant. They’ll either give you parsnips, potatoes, or cauliflower seeds. But that means free seeds to plant! Easy profit. DO NOT CUT DOWN ALL YOUR TALL GRASS.

Willy will send you a letter. Go get the fishing rod, and fish in the ocean outside of Willy’s shop. Sell him any fish you get directly until about 2 pm or so, then go to Pierre’s with your new funds and get more seeds. Ideally potatoes, but if you wanna get a head start on an achievement, buy one or two of every seed- except fruit trees. You’ll need to sell one of every crop eventually. But you don’t have to worry about it right now if you don’t want to- you’ll have many more springs to come.

Check down south for spring onions. If you have level 1 foraging by now and can get tree seeds, shake the trees as you pass by. You get them more often by chopping them down, but shaking the trees can yield tree seeds for field snacks.

Spend today fishing, after that! Fish makes good money, and if you’re REALLY in a pinch you can eat the fish straight out of the ocean/river/lake. Or any seaweed/algae you fish up. Sometimes you’ll also fish up Joja Cola- a trash item you can consume for a little energy.

Day 3

It’s raining today, so you do NOT have to water! It always rains on Spring 3. If you’ve gotten money from fishing again after your initial stint, buy more seeds- you don’t need to plant them right away if the idea of all the watering is daunting, you can save them for when your first harvest is done and you need to replant.

If it’s a good luck day, spend the day clearing out your farm area around where you’re planting. Good luck days are the best for chopping trees because you’ll get more wood than on bad luck days.

If it’s a neutral or bad luck day, go fishing! You might fish up trash more often, but you’ll still be getting fish to sell! You can either ocean fish and sell to Willy directly, OR try at the mountain lake next to Robin’s house. Largemouth Bass are GOOD money early game.

No matter what you do, remember to check for spring onions!

General Early Game Tips

Check the tv EVERY day! It’ll give you tips, recipes, and you can check your daily luck and the next day’s forecast.

Build a Silo BEFORE building a coop or a barn! You’ll get a quest to build a coop after your first harvest. Do NOT do it right away. Get a SILO first, and then scythe up any grass on your farm! Don’t scythe all your grass (the tall grass, not the weeds that give you fiber/seeds) before you get a silo, because hay from Marnie is expensive at 50g per piece of hay.

Advanced tip for the previous one: Build ONE silo, and put a chest next to the silo. Use the empty barn/coop once you have it to grab ALL the hay from your silo and place it in the chest. Continue to scythe your grass and get hay, repeating the emptying process until all your grass is gone. That way you have a stock of hay before you get animals.

Once you have a steady supply of food and the mines are open, go to the mines as OFTEN as possible. If the day is neutral, good, or great luck, go mining! You’ll wanna get a head start on resources, and selling gems is good early game.

Wait for a rainy day to upgrade your watering can! Upgrading your tools takes two days: the day you give it to him, and the day after. Check the tv for when the next day is raining, and THEN upgrade your can.

Do NOT build the first sprinklers you get. Once you reach level 2 farming, you unlock the sprinkler crafting recipe. The basic sprinkler only waters 4 spaces, and it is a WASTE of copper and iron. Wait for the quality sprinkler recipe at level 6. It’s tedious to water, I know, but the quality sprinkler waters the 8 surrounding tiles vs the basic’s 4. A better use of materials.

Keep at least 1 to 5 of everything! You may end up with a lot of chests, but keeping a lot of things is REALLY handy. You’ll get little fetch quests from the bulletin board outside of Pierre’s shop often, and keeping a backlog of items helps with completing them- which gets you money and friendship points with the villager in question. This includes crops, fish, and mining materials like quartz and gems. I’d also advise keeping minerals from geodes after donating one of them to Gunther, as some are good gifts while others are used for fish pond requests.

Don’t forget animal tools! Marnie sells a bucket for milking cows, shears for shearing sheep, and heaters for your barns/coops! It gets real cold in winter, so animals need a heater placed in their respective buildings. Put one in every animal building you have- you only need one, don’t worry!

Make wild seeds! Wild seeds produce foragables for their respective seasons. Sell the spring, summer, and fall seed packets instead of growing them. The spring, summer, and fall wild seed packets sell for MORE than if you grew the seeds and sold the foragable items. Do NOT sell the winter seed packets!

General Year 1 Tips

Try and get level 4 foraging before Spring 15! You’ll get a passive perk that just says “+1 Berry harvesting”. From Spring 15 to 18, there are salmonberries in the bushes around Pelican Town. Whether you have level 4 foraging or not, collect these berries! It’ll help a LOT if you get two per bush, but if you check every single day you’ll get a lot of berries no matter what your foraging level is. They don’t give a LOT of energy/health, but because of the quantity you’ll get you’ll be fine.

Fish at the mountain lake when you have downtime! Largemouth bass are VERY valuable early game, if a bit tricky to catch.

Use low profit crops for energy! If you have extra parsnips from spring, you can either turn them into pickles later or keep them for energy/health.

Mushrooms or Bats! After a certain amount of profit is obtained, Demetrius will come to you and ask to use your farm’s little cave for an experiment. He’ll ask to either use it to cultivate mushrooms or invite a species of fruit bat to the cave. Mushrooms are produced every day, and you’ll get a random assortment of every mushroom species available (although their rarity plays a factor in how often they appear). Fruit bats leave you a slow supply of fruit- usually foraged berries, but sometimes fruit tree fruit as well such as apples, oranges, and cherries. Mushrooms are generally more valuable and common mushrooms provide good energy, while fruit bats are good for artisan goods and for gifts as fruit tree fruits are universally liked by everyone.

In your first summer, invest in Blueberries! In your first fall, invest in Cranberries! Both blueberries and cranberries give multiple harvests, and multiple berries per harvest. That means they’ll keep producing AND give you 3 berries per harvest. While the melon and pumpkin sell for more, you can get a few hundred berries within one season- upwards of a thousand if you plant a Lot like I do.

In the beginning of summer, you’ll unlock the bath house. The bath house is a hot spring building to the north in the mountains, initially blocked by boulders. You can sit in the water to regain energy!

Plant tree seeds outside of the bath house area. ALL the dirt around the bath house can have tree seeds planted. You’ll most likely get a bunch of pinecones, as there’s an abundance of pine trees both on your farm and in Cindersap Forest. Plant as many as you can, and let them grow to make a wood farm. I can get a full stack of wood because of how many trees you can plant.

Save some crops to sell at the END of a season! If you’re hurting for money, split your current harvest in half if you can and sell half. Put the other half away in a chest (preferably next to the shipping bin) to save for the final day in the season. That way you can be SURE you’ll have a decent amount to spend at the beginning of the next season.

Work on preserves jars and kegs asap, once you unlock their recipes. Preserves jars make jelly (from fruit), pickles (from veggies), aged roe (from fish eggs), and caviar (from sturgeon eggs). Kegs make wine (from fruit), beer (wheat), pale ale (hops), juice (veggies), and mead (honey). Buy some hops in summer and save them for when you get kegs! Hops also produce EVERY day, so be prepared for a backlog of hops!

Try and get animals in summer! Save spring for bolstering your wallet and equipment. Don’t worry about upgrading your coop/barn all the way right now, just get started on animals because animal products are very good your first year.

Upgrade things in winter! This can mean tools, or buildings! By winter you should have a GOOD bit of money and resources. Upgrade your tools as much as you can (you can do a lot of mining for ore in winter), and upgrade any coops/barns you have. You don’t HAVE to upgrade your house yet if you don’t want to/don’t plan on getting married anytime soon so, as you should have salmonberries still if you managed to collect a lot,  cooking isn’t a necessity. Mushrooms from the cave or fruit from the bats could also help here.

Buy animals in winter! If you can upgrade your coop/barn, get animals now while they don’t need to go outside. It’s a good idea to get pigs now if you can, as they take a long time to grow. That way they can come out fully grown and ready to get you truffles.

Winter seeds are good money! Every few levels, you’ll be able to craft wild seeds for each respective season. The winter seeds sell for more than just their packets alone, so grow them if you can! You can multiply the crop each time you harvest them most likely, so you can make a lot of money off of the foragables.

Mine and fish! Since you don’t have too much to do in winter, use the time to fish and mine for extra money and resources!

[chicgeekgirl89]

Home is Us

Fandom: 911 Lone Star

Characters: Carlos Reyes, T.K. Strand, Owen Strand, Judd Ryder, Tommy Vega, Mateo Chavez

Summary: In the aftermath of the condo fire, Carlos and T.K. seek comfort in one another. Post ep for 2x12 "The Big Heat."

A/N: This is my rather belated post ep for 2x12. And it would not have happened without @bluenet13. Literally. I agonized over this SO MUCH and she listened to all my whining and didn't let me cut the part about Marlon Blendo so I owe her everything.

AO3

The night air was cool and still, the stars sparkling brightly in the sky, but the stench of smoke obliterated any sense of peace or calm. T.K. could feel Carlos’ hand gripping his shoulder with bruising force as they burst out the front doors and onto the lawn, both of them gasping and coughing.

Tommy came running toward them. “Are you all right?” she asked urgently, eyes and hands searching for damage. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m, I’m okay,” T.K. choked out. “Carlos?”

He shook his head, coughing violently. “I’m fine too.”

“T.K.!”

His dad came charging toward him, wrapping him up a fierce hug. “Oh my god,” he breathed into T.K.’s hair and then his other arm was pulling Carlos in too, squeezing them both with every bit of strength he had. “Are you boys all right?”

“We’re good, Dad,” T.K. said, even though he was shaking violently, adrenaline coursing through his veins so fast he felt lightheaded. “What the hell? How did you guys even know we were in trouble?”

“Raymond said something earlier today and I just put the pieces together,” Owen said. “I’m so sorry, I should have figured it out sooner.”

There were sirens screaming up now, ambulances and firetrucks, and Tommy put a hand on Owen’s shoulder. “Okay, there will be time to talk about this later. Right now all of you need to get checked out by the paramedics. No objections,” she said quickly when several mouths opened to protest. “A little oxygen never hurt anybody. Come on now.”

T.K. moved follow her and then realized Carlos wasn’t behind him. He turned to find his boyfriend still rooted to the spot, staring straight ahead at the burning building. “Babe?” T.K. reached for his arm.

Carlos startled at his touch and cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m coming.”

He was quiet as they sat on the back of the ambulance, answering questions with yes or no answers, eyes and body listless as they checked him over for injuries. T.K. had never seen his boyfriend look so small. 

They were both given oxygen and then Tommy reappeared, blankets in hand that she wrapped comfortingly around their shoulders, her mom tendencies coming out in full force. “Is everyone else all right?” T.K. asked, pushing his mask to the side.

“They’ve all got some first and second degree burns, but they’ll heal up all right. How are you two doing?”

“It could have been a lot worse,” T.K. said. 

“Carlos?” Tommy asked, her eyes softening and taking on a new level of concern.

He met her eyes and nodded. “I’m okay.”

She looked at him a moment longer and then reached out to give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I’m going to go check on the guys. You two stay right here and do as you’re told, got it?”

It wasn’t long before the paramedics released them with instructions to take it easy, stay hydrated, and head to the emergency room if they experienced any concerning symptoms. T.K. was still in disbelief that they’d escaped so unharmed. It was nothing short of miraculous, if you believed in that kind of thing.

Carlos spoke as they walked away from the ambulance, his voice quiet. “I should uh, I should call my parents,” he said.

“Do you want me to do it?” T.K. asked.

Carlos shook his head, already pulling out his phone. “No. No it’s um, they should hear it from me.”

He dialed, taking a shaky breath as he waited for someone to pick up. “Hey Dad.”

The conversation was painful, even from T.K.’s end. He couldn’t make out Gabriel’s words through the phone, but he could hear the unbridled fear in his voice. Carlos on the other hand sounded almost monotone, relaying the story and pertinent information in painfully exact detail, but without an ounce of emotion behind it, slipping back and forth between English and Spanish as he explained.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard him sound so upset before,” Carlos said, when he hung up.

“Yeah.” T.K. looked at his boyfriend who seemed to be refusing to look back. “Carlos? How are you doing?” he finally asked. 

“I’m good,” Carlos said, eyes darting toward him and then away. It was clearly a brush off and they both knew it. So T.K. waited.

And then he watched as his boyfriend broke in front of him, anguish and fear spilling out like a wave until they were both clinging to one another as Carlos’ quiet sobs wracked his frame over and over again.

“Shh,” T.K. soothed, struggling to provide some kind of real comfort when he felt so raw himself. “Breathe. We’re okay. That’s all that matters.”

“I should have known, I should have made the alarm company come out today.”

“Carlos listen to me, none of this is your fault.” T.K. pulled him in tighter, desperate to do something to ease his pain.

“If I had just looked around, if we had waited ten more minutes to go upstairs—“

“We had no way of knowing.”

Carlos pulled back, still shaky. “You can’t really believe that. There’s always something. I should have done better.”

T.K. cupped his face in his hands. “Baby why are you beating yourself up over this so much?”

“Because I’m supposed to protect you!” Carlos said, the words coming out on a ragged sob. “That’s my job. To keep people safe. And when it came down to it I couldn’t protect you. The person I care about most in this world I couldn’t—”

T.K. used his thumbs to wipe away some of Carlos’ tears, clearing his throat, trying to keep his own tears at bay. “Listen to me. We’re a team, remember? We protect each other. You and me. Not just you.”

Carlos shook his head, face still contorted in misery. T.K. pulled him back in again and pressed a kiss to his hair. “It’s okay to be upset. But you cannot blame yourself for this. This was not your fault, do you hear me?”

Carlos nodded against his shoulder, but T.K. wasn’t completely convinced his words had gotten through.

Carlos took a shuddering breath and stepped away, wiping at his eyes and T.K. watched the wall go back up; the one Carlos had carefully constructed around him that meant he was always completely even-tempered and never out of control. “We should uh, we should go check on your dad and everybody. Tell them thank you.”

“Yeah, sure,” T.K. said, feeling like he probably should be saying something more, but unable to find the words.

Carlos was already moving toward the group gathered at the back of the ambulance and T.K. had no choice but to follow him. “You guys all right?” T.K. asked as Judd pulled him in for a side hug.

“We’re just glad you’re both okay,” Judd told him. “Everything check out with the paramedics?”

“We both ate a little bit of smoke, but we’re okay,” T.K. said. “Honestly though,” he swallowed hard, “we probably wouldn’t be here without you guys. So thank you.”

“You’re just lucky your dad drives so fast. I didn’t know he had it in him, what with him being such a city slicker,” Billy said with a chuckle.

“My driving is impeccable and I always drive the exact speed limit. Except in emergency situations,” Owen said, casting a look at Carlos.

Carlos managed to scrounge up half a smile but didn’t say anything.

A truck came screeching to a stop just behind the ambulance and Gabriel Reyes jumped out. The man looked truly shaken, eyes wild as he ran toward them. “Carlos! Mijo are you all right?”

“I’m okay Dad,” Carlos told him as they hugged.

“Gracias a Dios. You’re all okay?” Gabriel asked, looking around the group.

“We got out just in time,” Owen said. “Minor injuries only.”

“Which is more than we can say for the condo,” Judd said. “I’m so sorry we couldn’t do more Carlos, he had that place rigged up good.”

Carlos shook his head. “You did everything you could and we’re…” he swallowed hard and T.K. could tell he was blinking back more tears, “we’re very grateful.”

“Have they taken your statements yet?” Gabriel asked. 

“Yeah, about half an hour ago,” T.K. said. Officers had come around while they were still sitting at the back of the ambulance and written down what little they knew. Nothing like telling complete strangers that you hadn’t realized your house was burning down around you because you were upstairs having sex with your boyfriend. 

“Then there’s no reason you need to be standing around here,” Gabriel said. “You know the ranch is open to you both. Your mother is worried sick, she would be very happy to have you.” He turned to look at Owen. “But perhaps you would rather be closer to work? The ranch is a bit of a drive.”

“Well of course you’re welcome to stay at my place,” Owen said. “There’s plenty of space and Buttercup would love to have you around. But I’m sure Andrea wants you close to her.”

Gabriel shook his head. “I think they’re better off here in town. Andrea will understand. There will be a lot of paperwork to deal with in the coming days, they need to be readily available.”

“Well of course, but I’m not sure how much I can provide in the way of hospitality right now. The investigators didn’t really clean things up when they left,” Owen said meaningfully.

“Not a problem,” Gabriel said, taking out his phone. “I can have a crew there in the morning. It should never have taken this long in the first place. You know sometimes they drag their feet on these things.”

“Oh it’s no problem,” Owen said, waving him off. “Worth it in the end.” 

The dads debated a while longer before they decided an exhausted T.K. and Carlos would stay with Owen for the time being to be closer to work and to their former condo for whatever overhaul was necessary. By that point neither of them really cared where they ended up as long as there was a shower and a bed waiting for them. 

Owen elected to stay at the scene with Gabriel so Judd drove Carlos and T.K. home. Neither of them said much, still in a state of shock and Judd was mindful enough not to try and fill the truck with conversation.

The house was dark, Mateo asleep for the night. Buttercup looked up as they came in and gave half a tail wag before settling back down again.

“I think I left a couple sweatshirts and pairs of pants here,” T.K. said, searching through the drawers in his dad’s guest room. 

“Mmhmm,” Carlos said. He’d sunk onto the end of the bed and was staring blankly at the wall. 

“Hey,” T.K. stopped his search and went to him, cupping his face in his hands. “Why don’t you go get in the shower? I’ll find us something to change into and bring it to you.”

Carlos nodded tiredly and disappeared down the hall. T.K. stood for a moment chewing on his lip. He felt lost, adrift, trying to process and deal with his own feelings of grief and stomach churning worry, and Carlos seemed miles away. T.K. didn’t know what to do except to try and meet his physical needs.

He managed to scrounge up a pair of sweats and a t-shirt he thought would do the job. They might be a little tight, but at least Carlos wouldn’t be sleeping in the stench of his smoky clothes.

T.K. knocked softly on the bathroom door before stepping inside and putting the clothes on the counter. “You all right?” he asked.

Carlos sniffed and cleared his throat. “Yeah. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

T.K. gathered up Carlos’ soiled clothes from the floor and dumped them into the washer, intending to add his after he had his own shower. He heard the water turn off and a minute later the bathroom door opened. “I’m done,” Carlos called softly down the hall.

“I’ll be quick,” T.K. said, switching places with him. 

The water felt good and he watched as soot and sweat and ash slithered down the drain. He took longer than he meant to, almost lulled to sleep by the soothing pound of the water against his back. Eventually it grew cool and he turned it off, stepping out to try and squeeze into a pair of sweatpants that belonged to his dad and a t-shirt he didn’t recognize but had found in the clean laundry.

T.K. left the bathroom still toweling off his hair. He crept quietly toward the guest room; Buttercup didn’t even move as he stepped over him in the hallway. Opening the door he winced when it squeaked, fully expecting to find Carlos completely sacked out in the bed, more than ready to join his boyfriend in blissful sleep.

Instead he found the room empty and a spiral of fear shot through him so fast it took his breath away. “Carlos?” he whispered, as if the man would suddenly materialize from a dark corner or the tiny closet. 

When there was no answer he turned and went back the way he’d come, stepping over Buttercup again, searching the kitchen and the living room before he made his way to the back patio. “Hey,” he said softly when he spotted Carlos sitting on the edge of the outdoor sofa.

Carlos didn’t respond and T.K. felt his worry grow heavier. “Carlos?”

His boyfriend’s shoulders hitched slightly and T.K. walked around the patio furniture to find him hunched over, tears streaming down his face. “Oh baby,” T.K. said, dropping to his knees, hands frantically reaching for him. 

“I’m sorry,” Carlos said hoarsely. “I just…I can’t…I’m trying to pull it together but—”

T.K. slipped onto the couch next to him and pulled him into his arms. “You don’t have to be okay,” he whispered, his own throat thick with emotion. “No one expects that of you.”

Carlos’ voice was hoarse and broken. “I’ve never needed saving before. Not like that.”

“Most people don’t,” T.K. said.

Carlos looked at him, eyes red and swollen. “You were amazing in there. I was…I was panicking and you knew exactly what to do.”

“You’re a police officer,” T.K. said, resting his head on top of Carlos’. “I wouldn’t expect you to know what to do in a five alarm fire. Just like you wouldn’t expect me to know what to do in a shootout.”

Carlos sighed and leaned into him. T.K. bent over and kissed his forehead. “We should try and get some sleep.”

Carlos shook his head again. “I can’t,” he said hoarsely. “I just keep thinking about it over and over again. I’m sorry I’m such a mess—“

“Hey, you don’t need to apologize. Everything you’re feeling is totally normal.”

Carlos swallowed hard. “I know it was just a house. But it was mine. It was the first place I felt like I could be myself. And then you came and it was our home and I—“ Carlos bit his lip and shook his head. “It’s all gone.”

“But I’m not,” T.K. said twining their hands together. “I’m right here. You’ve got me. And I don’t care where we are as long as we’re together. Home is us.” He stroked his thumb up and down on Carlos’ shoulder.

His face sobered as he took a really good, long look at Carlos. Exhaustion and fear still radiated off of him. He looked defeated. Empty. “Let’s at least try to get some sleep,” T.K. said softly, brushing a still-damp, curl from Carlos’ forehead. “We’ll figure things out in the morning.”

He pulled Carlos to his feet and they walked hand in hand back to the guest room. Carlos looked at the clock as he got into bed and groaned. “I have a shift in five hours.”

“You’re not going to work today.” T.K. told him. “They’ll understand.”

Carlos slid down the bed onto his side, leaning up on his elbow, his free hand finding a home on T.K.’s hip. “I meant what I said before. You were incredible tonight T.K. You saved us.”

“I’m pretty sure my dad, Billy, and Judd saved us,” T.K. told him.

Carlos shook his head. “I’m serious. If you hadn’t been there—“

“But I was,” T.K. said firmly. “I was and we’re fine. We’re…going to be fine,” he amended, because god knew there was nothing fine about them right now.

Carlos was quiet for a moment and then laid down all the way so they were face to face. T.K. shifted so they were even closer, needing to feel the warmth of Carlos against his own body. “I don’t think I can sleep,” Carlos said.

“Then we’ll just lie here together,” T.K. told him softly. 

They locked eyes, both of them breathing together in the silence, just being together, holding on a little tighter than normal. “I can’t stop seeing it,” Carlos finally whispered. “I was so scared T.K. What if I’d lost you?”

“You didn’t,” T.K. said softly. He leaned in and pressed a tender, reassuring kiss to Carlos’ lips. Carlos didn’t respond so T.K. nudged him gently with his nose and then kissed him again.

It was slow at first, Carlos still drowning so deeply in loss and anxiety, but as T.K. continued to silently encourage him he began to reciprocate. First just one kiss, and then another, this one a little deeper, until they were completely pressed up against each other, hands searching for bare skin, shared breath moving between parted lips. 

Things grew heated and T.K. could feel the increasing desperation in Carlos’ kisses so he smoothed a hand soothingly down his spine, pulling back from him just a little bit, forcing him to slow down. “It’s okay,” he murmured as their lips broke apart and came back together. “I’m right here.”

Carlos responded by matching T.K.’s slower kisses, following him rather than leading.

T.K. reached between them and slowly undid the drawstring on his boyfriend’s sweatpants. Carlos broke off the kiss. “Are you sure?”

T.K. nodded, moving his hands underneath Carlos’ shirt, helping him pull it off over his head. They both needed this, to touch, to feel, to reassure themselves that they were alive, that this might have changed their night, but it hadn’t change them. 

Carlos started to roll on top of him, but T.K. gently pushed him back down until he was the one on top, chests and hips pressed together, a reversal of their positions from just hours before. Carlos’ hands landed on T.K.’s back, their eyes locking, both of them seeking comfort in the physicality of being together.

“We’re okay,” T.K. said, as much for himself as for Carlos.

Carlos nodded and then closed his eyes as T.K. began pressing kisses into his neck and chest. “We’re okay,” T.K. murmured soothingly every time his lips left Carlos’ skin. “I’m going to say it until you believe it. We’re okay. We will be okay together.”

                                           XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

T.K. woke up in the morning legs still tangled with Carlos’. It took him a moment to remember why he had a pounding headache and his muscles felt tight. Right. Burning condo. Smoke inhalation. Mad dash for their lives.

Carlos was still deeply asleep, for which T.K. was grateful. His boyfriend had drifted off in his arms somewhere around three am and T.K. had quickly followed. He managed to extricate himself without waking Carlos and pulled on some clothes before he headed out to the kitchen in search of painkillers. 

Sun was just filtering in the windows, the day already bright and clear. It was incredible how the world could continue to turn, even when everything had just crashed down around you. T.K. found some Advil, leaving it out on the counter, knowing it was likely that Carlos would be in need of some too. Then he moved their now clean, damp clothes from the washer to the dryer. They’d need to go out today and get some essentials. 

“T.K.?” Mateo asked in surprise as he appeared at the base of the stairs.  “I thought you and Carlos made up?” He paused and frowned in confusion. “Is that my shirt?”

T.K. sighed and launched into an edited version of the night’s events. “Dude,” Mateo said when he finished, a stunned look on his face. “Man that sucks. I’m glad you guys are all right.”

“Yeah, us too,” T.K. said.

“And listen, my house just totally blew up too. It was a rental, so not quite the same, but if you guys need help with any part of this process just let me know. You can borrow my car or laptop or whatever you need.”

“Thanks Mateo,” T.K. said gratefully.

There were footsteps on the stairs and Carlos appeared, eyes bleary and swollen, curls a disheveled mess. There was still a heaviness about him, but he looked better than the night before.

“Hey,” he said, wrapping an arm around T.K.’s waist and giving him a kiss, lingering slightly longer than their normal morning peck. “Hi Mateo.”

“Hey Carlos. T.K. told me about your place, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s definitely not ideal,” Carlos said with a sigh.

“Did you sleep okay?” T.K. asked.

Carlos nodded, then winced. T.K. reached for the bottle of Advil and poured him a glass of water. “Thanks,” Carlos said, swallowing down two pills.

“Did you call your captain?” T.K. asked as Mateo grabbed a protein bar and vacated the kitchen to give them some privacy.

“Yeah he’d already heard. Told me to take the time I need.”

“Good,” T.K. said.

The dryer buzzed. “That’s our clothes,” T.K. said, getting up to retrieve them. “At least you can put on a shirt that fits.”

He tossed Carlos his shirt and pants. Carlos stared down at them, a frown on his face. “You okay?” T.K. asked.

“Why did you throw a shirt at me?”

“What?”

“Last night. We were about to be burned alive and you made me put a shirt on.”

“Oh,” T.K. thought for a second and shrugged as he folded his sweatpants and set them on top of the dryer. “I don’t know. I guess I just…panicked. I was thinking that the temperature drops here at night and I didn’t want you to be cold when we got outside.”

“Our condo was hot as hell, but you were worried I’d be cold?”

T.K. bit his lip and shook his head, a sheepish smile growing on his face. “I don’t know, like I said I panicked. It was the first thought that came to me.”

“Well it was a good one,” Carlos said, slipping his arms around T.K.’s waist. “Standing out there all night with no shirt on would have been pretty uncomfortable.”

T.K. threaded his arms through Carlos’, hands coming to rest on his lower back. “You doing okay this morning?” he asked.

“Better,” Carlos confirmed. “Thank you. I think I just…needed to let it all out. I’m sorry about last night. My head was…”

“Hey,” T.K. shook his head. “No more apologies. No one has anything to apologize for, right?” He brushed a hand over Carlos’ cheek. “Do you want coffee? Or a smoothie?” His eyes went wide as a thought hit him. “Oh no!”

“What? What’s wrong?” Carlos asked, concern dropping over his face like a cloud. T.K.’s distress was so sudden and visceral that he pulled back slightly, eyes searching T.K.’s frame for some kind of injury.

T.K. felt his chest growing tight as anxiety gripped him. “Marlon Blendo! Oh my god, my dad is going to be so upset!”

“Whoa.” Carlos cupped his face in his hands. “I’m sure your dad will be okay. Blenders are replaceable.”

“Carlos he really loved that blender,” T.K. said seriously. 

Carlos chuckled. “Here I am, wondering all night long how we’re going to get through this and how you can be so calm when the world has literally gone up in flames, and now you’re losing it over a blender.”

“He was a really good blender!” T.K. pulled away from him and ran a hand through his hair as he took a few aimless steps, more thoughts striking him. “Oh my god my hoodies!”

“I will buy you new hoodies,” Carlos assured him.

“They won’t be the same,” T.K. groaned.

“Is this you finally freaking out?”

“I am not freaking out!” T.K.’s breathing had increased rapidly as panic spiraled through him. The sense of calm control he’d felt for the past twelve hours slowly started to slip away as reality set in. “Oh my god I’m totally freaking out. I can’t freak out, you’re freaking out! We can’t both be freaking out!”

“Hey,” Carlos cradled his face in his hand. “We’re okay? Remember? And if you need to freak out and lose it, that’s all right. It’s your turn. I’ll pull it together for a couple hours and you can melt down.”

“I don’t want to melt down, I want my shirt with the blue stripes on it. And that bergamot candle your parents gave us as a housewarming gift. Oh my god, Carlos all your spices from the market!”

“Come here,” Carlos said, pulling him into a hug, one hand holding him firmly around the waist, the other settling on the nape of his neck, thumb moving back and forth in a soothing motion.

T.K. let his forehead rest against Carlos’ shoulder, feeling more grounded by the strength of his boyfriend’s arms and the softness of his fingers. “Thanks,” he mumbled. 

T.K. took a breath as the weight of everything began to land on his shoulders. Losing their home. Almost losing each other. God, how was he only now feeling how terrible it all was? He’d truly thought he was okay until this very second. “We’re going to make it through this, right?” he asked. He’d been so sure last night, but now…

Carlos pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “Yes. We are.”

                                       XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A/N: When I started writing this, did I think it would end up in the boys having soft, sweet "we're so glad we're not dead" sex in Owen's guest room? Nope. No I did not. Is it all @bluenet13's fault that it happened? Possibly. Or possibly they're just too sexy and they couldn't help it. Idk.

[ao3theskyisblue]

Counting Time

Summary:

“Son.”

TK lifts his head slowly from where he had been tracing mindless shapes onto Carlos’ hand to stare up at Gabriel blankly. His soon-to-be father-in-law was smiling at him kindly, but TK could see the way it wavered.

“You should get some rest."

"I'm fine."

Written for Day 5 of @911lonestarangstweek : Recovery + “The only person I need right now is you.” 

(A continuation from the little uh...je ne sais quoi on Day 3)

Read on AO3

There are 10,537 dots on the ground.

12.5 per tile, with an occasional special individual sporting 14.

All those were approximate guesses, his eyes never straying away too long from how they were glued on to the person lying supine – and so still – on the hospital bed. Though, he hasn’t moved much himself.

The two times he had was when the heart monitor picked up speed before settling down, and each time TK felt his heart quicken at the anticipation before dropping back down to the ground when it was just a false alarm. His hands once again clenched tightly around the one lying limp beside the figure on the bed, the only warmth emitting from the places he’s touched.

He didn’t need to feel the other one to know it was likely cold to the touch, and focused on the warmth from the one he could feel right now.

Picking at the drawstrings of his yellow hoodie with his one free hand, he knew his fingers were turning pruney from squeezing and rubbing on the course material. He couldn’t remember how exactly he had even gotten changed, and only knew when each day had passed when the same nurse working the morning shift greeted him quietly. There was always a tray of food or a bag of take-out placed in front of him every so often, but he wasn’t keeping track of how much time had passed between each delivery.

The only reason he hadn’t collapsed by now was probably because of his father and Andrea. The only two people that could get him to hold onto something materialistic and gently guide it to his mouth, encouraging him to take small bites and swallow, before washing it down with water.  

“Son.”

TK lifts his head slowly from where he had been tracing mindless shapes onto Carlos’ hand to stare up at Gabriel blankly. His soon-to-be father-in-law was smiling at him kindly, but TK could see the way it wavered.

“You should get some rest. I’ll keep watch and let you know the second anything changes.” Gabriel says softly, but TK just shakes his head like he has the past three days.

“I’m fine.” His voice comes out scratchy, hollow, and he looks back to the comatose figure as Gabriel sighs.

“TK–”

“He might disappear if I close my eyes,” TK could barely get the words out from the shudder that ripples through his body at the reminder, his thoughts an originally blank canvas now filling with only the last few moments of that day, playing in repeat. He holds Carlos’ hand with both of his now, eyes peeled open to catch the slightest movement beneath the closed eyelids. “I won’t– I won’t let him disappear.”

He hears light footsteps that stop in the doorway, and quiet words being exchanged that he couldn’t find it in himself to tune into. Swiping a thumb slowly over Carlos’ wrist, he pauses at his pulse point to feel for any change, the monitors turning into mere background noise after the first day.

“We won’t let him disappear, either.”

TK feels the familiar stinging in his eyes at the tears that just refused to fall when a comforting hand carded through his hair, feeling himself leaning into the soothing gesture. He knows Andrea has pulled up a chair to sit beside him when he feels an arm brushing against his on the seat handles.

“I promise, that when you wake up, he’ll still be here.” Andrea murmurs, and TK knows he shouldn’t believe the open promise that could tear his heart to shreds at any moment, but he wants to.

Oh, did he want to.

“After you get some rest, you can keep watch again.” Gabriel adds gently, sitting on a chair on the opposite side of the bed, exchanging a look with Andrea. This time, when hands slowly pulled him in, he didn’t fight them as he allowed his head to be laid delicately on a warm shoulder. He can smell the sweetness of flowers from the garden on the Reyes family ranch, along with the hint of spices from the kitchen.

There’s a light kiss on his forehead, and TK feels his eyes starting to droop from the exhaustion he’s refused to give into for the past three days. It had been so easy to forgo sleep – the all-consuming fear that gripped him every time he realized that shutting his eyes for just a second might mean he never saw the love of his life ever again outplayed everything else.

“We’ll all still be here when you wake up, sweetheart.”

And those are the last words he hears before succumbing to the darkness.

.

He begins to engage more in conversation the more he stays at the hospital. After numerous visits from the doctors, nurses, and the chief of surgery, TK finally feels safe enough to leave for a quick shower before coming back.

“-and then, he just jumps! Real talk, I have seen my fair share of crazy on the force, but never have I actually seen someone scale a house because the suspect decides roofs are the new concrete flooring. He just grabs a nearby streetlamp and roundhouse kicks the perp and by the time I catch up he’s already got him in handcuffs and begging for his mother.” TK could feel the faintest smile on his lips when Mitchell finishes the story, hearing his team chuckling around him.

“He literally chased someone across a rooftop?” Paul was staring at her in disbelief, stance relaxed as he leaned against the wall, glancing at Carlos who was currently very unaware of the little fireside storytime that was happening around him.

“Across multiple rooftops. The dude did multiple running long jumps.”

“You’re kidding.”

They had just gotten off shift, with some of them having the day off. TK hadn’t expected them to show up at the hospital one by one like a trail of ducklings, especially considering they had already been visiting quite frequently all the other days too. It spoke volumes, and TK felt a familiar pressure building up behind his eyes when Nancy was the next one up to tell her piece.

“Okay so, this had to be…a year in, and since Michelle and him are best buddies, Tim and I hung out with him outside of work quite often.” TK reached out to squeeze her arm comfortingly when her voice shook on Tim’s name. She turned to smile at him, squeezing his hand back with a knowing look in her eyes when he didn’t have the words to say anything.

“We were so sure that he was this quiet albeit kind, and reserved guy. He was always so polite and put together.” Nancy shifts to lean against him fully, and it’s a pillar of support he is undoubtfully grateful for. He can feel Marjan’s hand that hasn’t left his shoulder since they arrived, tethering him to the present.

“Well, when Tim and I got front row seats when he outright roasted this woman during a nuisance call, that was an eye-opener.” TK’s eyes widened at that, unconsciously squeezing the hand on the bed beside him.

His eyes wandered back to Carlos’ still nature, an ache pulling at him, yearning for his fiancé to open his eyes and just join in the conversation.

“Aw man, this was the call I just had to be off shift for. Grace had to fill me in after,” Judd groaned, smiling down at his wife who was grinning up at him, patting his hand on her shoulder consolingly.

“I was the dispatcher,” Grace explained, but smiled mischievously as she nodded for Nancy to continue.

“She was a frequent 911 caller too. Practically every first responder in the city knew her, but what can you do? Well, Carlos wasn’t impressed when she called in to report in an active gunman, with dispatch sending multiple units in with bulletproof vests and guns raised only for her to explain how she just thought her neighbours were too loud, and needed a scare.” Nancy pursed her lips at the end, clearly remembering how well that call went.

“Please tell me they arrested her,” Marjan raised an eyebrow, making a sound of disbelief and TK hid his smile when he heard Mateo exclaim, “The audacity.”

“Oh, they did alright. She was screaming and yelling about how useless all of us were and there were children around. She was sprouting profanities too and we were all just so lost at what to do until Carlos just struts up to the woman, pins her arms behind her back, and slaps on handcuffs.

“She’s yelling at him now, and when she goes to take a breath, he just looks at her all nonchalantly and goes ‘are you done?’

“When she starts preaching about how he has nothing to hold her over, that he can’t just go around arresting people he just casually says, ‘course I can. For making a nuisance 911 call, for being a danger to the public, and for pissing me off,’ before sticking her into the back of his cruiser. I will never forget the look on her face!” Nancy laughs, and TK is honestly at a loss for words.

“Wow. That’s impressive.” There were varying looks of shock and surprise on their faces, and TK breathes in deeply.

“It was probably the children.”

He can feel multiple pairs of eyes on him, and yet, the one pair of eyes he longs for isn’t one of them.

Looking up to meet their gazes, he offers a weak smile.  

“He’s always been attuned to how others are feeling, and those children were probably terrified.” TK says quietly. He hears hums of agreement and understanding and is grateful that none of them push him to say any more.

Just being here, was enough.

The next few hours pass by like this, with everyone swapping stories and just talking about their days. They all made sure that Carlos didn’t miss a single second of everything that had been going on, and TK feels his heart throb with how much he loves and cherishes the family they all built from the ground up.

As he lifts the limp hand to cup his cheek, blinking against the lingering mist that clouds his vision, he hopes that Carlos can feel them all here, and that they’ll all be waiting for him to finally join them.

.

“Gloria called today.”

It was past visiting hours, the hospital entering a period of rare serenity between nurses checking up on their patients every so often and the occasional new admittances. He knows he shouldn’t comment on the quietness, as saying it out loud usually jinxed the entire thing and he’s already experienced one of those in New York and would never subject anyone to that fate.

Usually, the nurses would have kicked him out, but TK would have just stayed all night in his car in the parking lot if they did. He still hadn’t set a single foot into their home, opting to go to his dad’s place for showers. He didn’t want to feel how cold the walls were as they enclosed on him and witness the lack of a warm smile and wonderous smells coming from the kitchen as his fiancé greeted him at the door with a soft kiss.

He didn’t want to see the pictures of friends and family lining their walls when the face that lit up every single one of those photographs was laying in a coma on a hospital bed.

He didn’t want to see the single pair of shoes left at the doorway, without its usual companion pair beside it.

He didn’t want to see any of it until he could see it with Carlos by his side.

The nurses had long stopped batting an eye at his presence no matter what time it was, and most of them, especially the morning shift, would always check in on him to see if there was anything he needed.

He never knew how to answer that question.

TK trails his index finger slowly up Carlos’ arm, reaching his elbow before sliding it back down. He tries for a smile, because it had been good news, but he knows all his smiles have lost their usual light.

But still, he tries.

“She managed to secure the venue we wanted, so we don’t have to keep on planning for two different ones if this one fell through. Apparently, the couple who scheduled for that day cancelled, so the place is all ours.” It still feels a little awkward talking while knowing that the person listening couldn’t answer, and continuing the conversation anyway. But he wants Carlos to know that he’s here, with more than just the tight grip he has on his hand.

“You know,” TK looks up to peer at Carlos’ slack expression, watching his chest rise and fall in time to his breathing. “I’ve never thought I could hate my blood type until they told me I couldn’t help you.”

The moment they jumped out of the ambulance and wheeled Carlos into the hospital, his pulse having stopped twice on the way, he knew the scissors hadn’t landed in a good place. He remembered looking at his captain, seeing her face draining in colour with each passing minute as Carlos would just not stop bleeding.

And then the doctors confirmed it.

He needed a liver transplant.

Not an entire liver, just a part of it to make up for the piece that he lost from the absolutely stellar aim the woman had that would never recover.

His fiancé was O negative, and he was B positive. An automatic no.

It almost makes him want to laugh, how ironic the situation was. Here he was, part of the 9% that could help cure the rarest diseases and he couldn’t even help his fiancé by giving him half of his liver. Then there was the fact that Carlos had the universal donor blood, and yet was the worst acceptor.

They truly made quite the pair.

He hated it.

Luckily, they had found a match soon after, but it was still too soon to tell the other complications that could arise. And the most important one of all was whether Carlos would wake up at all.

Someone buttoning for the nurses shakes him out of his thoughts, and for the millionth time since Carlos was first admitted to the hospital a week ago, he’s greeted with closed eyes and stillness.

TK gently runs his thumb along the dips and falls of Carlos’ knuckles, pausing at the definite bump where his engagement ring rested. They opted to get separate rings done for their line of work for safety reasons, but he knew that Carlos always wore the authentic one during desk duty or when he wasn’t out on patrol. He remembered putting on his own in the waiting room, wanting to feel a piece of him as he stared at the doors that would determine their future.

“Last I checked, a wedding takes two people.” TK whispers, biting down on his lower lip, hard, to stop the sob that threatened to burst through at the sight of their rings next to each other.

“I can’t get married by myself, you know?”

.

He goes back to work on the 12th day.

Tommy and Nancy had immediately protested, reminding him that he could take his time – that he could take all the time he needed before coming back.

But he just offered them a small smile, and signed himself in.

“He would’ve wanted me to take a walk, take a breather.” TK says quietly, swallowing past the stones lodged in his throat and looking at them fully.

“I’m taking a breather. And then I’m going back.” TK doesn’t say anything more, and Nancy and Tommy don’t push. He feels a hand squeeze his shoulder and accepts a light hug from Nancy, before they enter work mode.

He works. He stocks up the ambulance. He checks their supplies. He saves people. He gets a distraction.  

When his dad asks him if he needs a ride back, he asks to be dropped off at home for the first time.

Owen looks at him when they reach a red light, his eyes filled with concern. TK just looks straight ahead, unmoving.

“TK, you don’t have to force yourself to-”

“That’s not what I’m doing.” TK spat, suddenly feeling a burst of anger at his father’s words, knowing how that sentence was going to end.

He wasn’t giving up. He wasn’t moving on. He was moving forward.

“I’m going home, because I need to straighten the blankets on the couch. I need to tidy up the– the wedding magazines we were too tired to clean up that night, I need to wash the dishes I left in a hurry to get to work. I am going home, because I want to make sure that when he comes back, it’s to a clean place where he can relax. So he can be at ease.” TK knows he’s talking at a volume that’s way too loud for being inside a car, and he feels himself taking deep breaths, his hands shaking in his lap. He doesn’t look up, but hears his father turn on the blinker, the gravel crunching under the wheels as they make a turn.

“Okay.”

Okay.

.

It was a split second.

He’s grown so used to looking up and seeing eyes that were shut away from the world that when he looks up again a few moments later to see tired brown orbs trained on him, he almost looks away until he realizes wait-

TK shoots up from his seat, almost sending the cup of coffee beside him splattering to the ground.

He can’t speak, the words begging to come out and clawing at his throat, but he could only stare blankly as Carlos blinked, letting out a quiet groan as he slowly adjusted to the lights.

And then his medic instincts kick in.

“You’re awake. Okay. Okay, uh, water. Your throat must be dry as hell. I need to get water. And a nurse, oh my god I need to call the nurse–” He turns around frantically to locate the red button, scowling when he can’t locate it when he swears he had seen it just a few minutes ago-

“Hey,”

It’s extremely quiet, croaky, the end coming out cracked from the long period of non-use but it’s the single most beautiful thing TK has heard in his life. There’s a squeeze on the tips of his fingers, and he just realizes that he hadn’t let go of Carlos’ hand.

“Come here.”

The two whispered words tear apart the film that guards his eyes, and he feels tears blurring his vision as they tunnel in on the smile he’s wanted to see for so long.

But no, he couldn’t go, not yet.

“I need to get a nurse. You-I can’t-” TK is about to just leave the room to barrel into the nurse’s station, but the hold on his hand tightens, the grip surprisingly strong and keeping him in place.

“The only thing – the only person I need right now is you,” Carlos rasps, his eyes turning pleading, and TK immediately stops trying to break out of his hold. But he still doesn’t move from his spot a few feet away from the bed, just staring at his fiancé who is awake.

He’s looking at him and he’s awake.

And suddenly he can’t close the distance between them fast enough.

He places a hand beside Carlos’ pillow gently, the other cupping his cheek. He lowers his head to the crook of Carlos’ neck, and though he’s done this so many times when the other was unconscious, it fills him with a new sense of vitality when he knows that this time when he looks up, Carlos will be looking back.

He lets out a soft sound of protest when he feels Carlos weakly pushing himself up, wanting to stay in his arms forever. There’s a feather-light kiss on the crown of his head, and he feels a weight rest on top of it.

“You don’t have to look up, but…” Carlos trails off, and TK finally lifts his head to meet Carlos’ gaze, who’s looking at him with shining eyes. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Something in his chest aches. It’s suddenly so hard to breathe, but at the same time, TK feels like this is the first real breath he’s taken for the past two weeks.

He can’t find the words, can’t find it in himself to do anything other than just stare at the man lying beneath him, eyes open and alert and warm.

“I didn’t miss our wedding, did I?”

The words punch the breath right out of his lungs, and he wonders if he’ll ever be able to breathe properly for a while. He couldn’t hold back a half-sob, half-laugh at that, closing his eyes as the tears, finally, steadily trickle down his cheeks.

“You wake up after two weeks in a coma and that’s the first thing you worry about?” TK laughs wetly, wiping his cheeks hastily as more laughter bubbles in him at Carlos’ startled look.

“Two weeks?” His fiancé’s eyes are wide, searching his, and TK nods, covering his mouth with a hand to try and hold back his mess of emotions right now.

“Everyone’s been coming by to check in on you. We’ve all been waiting for you to come back to us,” TK says quietly, running a hand through his curls.

Something passed over Carlos’ face then, and he looks down at him questioningly.

“You waited two whole weeks for me to wake up?” TK pauses in his administrations with Carlos’ hair. He smiles sadly, hearing the hint of awe in his fiancé’s voice. He moves to cup Carlos’ face between his hands, chuckling wetly.

Leaning down, he presses a tender kiss on Carlos’ forehead, smiling into his skin.

“I would have waited an eternity just to have five more minutes with you.” He murmurs in the small space between them, and he feels Carlos’ hold on his arm tighten. He can feel the bed shaking at the silent tears that trail down Carlos’ face, and he feels the familiar stinging behind his eyes.

Later, he would be messaging the group chat on the new developments, and he would be greeted with multiple exclamation marks and caps locked messages back as they all message him that they’re on their way. He would button for the nurses, finally procuring the button from underneath Carlos’ pillow and there would be a flurry of activity as the nurses call in the doctor for more questions and a final statement.

Their friends and family would arrive, some of them bringing food and others bringing more flowers and teddy bears to fill the already-decorated room. Andrea would wrap him up in a tight hug, and Gabriel tugs him into a hug of his own.

There would be more hugs shared, tears to be shed, and heartfelt words to be spoken.

But right now, TK lets himself immerse in the moment, as he and Carlos finally breathe.

[mldrgrl]

Broken Things 6/24

by: mldrgrl Rating: varies by chapter, rated R overall See Chapter 1 for summary and notes

Mulder is awake before the rooster crows, if he even slept at all.  He has the same jitters he felt the day he left for Texas.  Nerves and excitement all wrapped into one.  To pass the time, and try to relax, he fills and heats the bathing tub, hoping a nice soak will make him feel a little less restless, but he can’t sit still and ends up washing more quickly than it was worth to prepare the bath.  He clips his beard and combs his hair back and puts on the cleanest pair of trousers he can find and a dark shirt.

Melvin knows Mulder even better than he knows himself, and already has breakfast laid out on the table by the time he’s finished dressing.  The boys aren’t even up yet and the sun is barely peeking through the morning clouds. 

“You takin’ the wagon with you,” Melvin asks.  “Or the Tilbury again?”

“I’ll do the wagon this time, in case I need to haul anything back.”

“You might need to replenish the gallon of cologne you poured on this morning.”

“Too much?”

“Not enough.  You still smell like horse.”

“You’re smelling yourself.”  

Mulder finishes his breakfast and takes his dishware to the basin.  He cleans them himself and then heads out to the barn.  The boys are only just piling out of the bunkhouse and on their way over to the house.  Jimmy asks if he needs help, but Mulder waves him away to hitch the horses and the wagon himself.  He needs something to do with his hands.

The ride into town passes almost like a dream.  He swears the horses must have driven themselves because he doesn’t remember getting from the ranch to the mercantile, but here he is.  John Jr. is outside sweeping the porch and waves when he sees him.  The boy is tall for his age, taking after his mother in that respect, but he’s reedy and dark-haired, like his father.  Mulder knows him to be a hard worker, but with a cheeky sense of humor.  A definite mix of both his parents.

“You got yourself a real pretty lady, Mr. Mulder,” John Jr. whispers to him as he steps onto the porch.  “Real pretty.”

“What do you know about pretty ladies?” Mulder teases, ruffling John Jr.’s hair.

“I have me a sweetheart, don’t tell Ma.”

“You’re too young to have a sweetheart.”

“I’ll be fifteen this winter and Callie will be fifteen in the spring.”

“Callie Blakely?  You better not break her heart, you know she’s got five strong brothers.”

John Jr. looks horrified.  “I would never break her heart!”

“Don’t do anything foolish either because you think you’re grown.  Your parents are good people and you’re going to take over a good business someday.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“I have to go talk to a pretty lady now, how do I look?”  Mulder takes off his hat and runs a hand through his hair.

“You look alright.”

“Do I smell like horse?”  He lifts one arm and sniffs the air lightly.

“Only a little.”  John Jr. grins and Mulder gives him a soft whack on the back of the head with his hat.

John Byers the elder is stocking shelves when Mulder enters the mercantile.  He nods at Mulder and then points to the back towards the curtains that separate the store from his residence.  Mulder turns his hat nervously about in his hands and hesitates before he steps through the curtains.

↭

Katherine is up early, but waits until she hears the creaking of floorboards to get out of bed and get dressed.  She washes her face at the basin in her room and dons a borrowed skirt and blouse that Susannah loaned to her to meet the bank man.  The clothes are a little large for her frame, but the two women spent some time the previous evening doing some hemming and pinning and she feels a bit more respectable now than she has for awhile.  If her hair weren’t so wild and thick, she’d pin it instead of tying it into a tight braid.

She’s helping Susannah with breakfast dishes when Mulder arrives.  He stands in the kitchen bashfully, like he’s stolen some cookies from a jar and wants to apologize for it.  She can suddenly see him as a little boy and wonders if he’s ever gotten scolded for anything in his whole life with such effortless and natural charm.  The look of him makes her want to pet his hair and kiss his forehead, but it also sends her insides a fluttering just a bit.

“I hope I’m not too early,” he says.  “If I am, I can go on back and pester John for a bit.”

“I was just helping Susannah with these dishes,” Katherine says.  “If you don’t mind waiting a few minutes.”

“Mr. Mulder, have you had breakfast?” Susannah asks.  “I can fix you a plate.”

“No, Ma’am, I’ve had my fill.  If that coffee pot over there has any left, I might take a cup though.”

“Our Katherine made the coffee this morning and I tell you it’s the best coffee you’ve ever tasted.”

“Is that right?”

“Go on and pour the man a cup and I’ll finish here,” Susannah says, nodding at Mulder and then shooing Katherine away from the wash basin.

Katherine takes one of the coffee cups down from where Susannah had shown her where they were kept and pours a cup for Mulder.  It’s still steaming so he sips it carefully and then smiles.

“Susannah, you do not exaggerate,” he says.  “This here is the best cup of coffee I have ever tasted.”

“I just need to run upstairs and get my papers,” Katherine says, feeling a little flustered and embarrassed by the praise.  She wants to run and hide the flush she feels in her cheeks.

When she returns, Mulder and Susannah are chatting at the table and his coffee is nearly gone.  He rises when she comes into the room and starts to turn his hat in his hands.  She’s noticed that he does this often when he’s feeling anxious or flustered, the way she might rub her fingers together as though pulling beads through.

“Are we ready?” he asks.

“We are.”

“Alright then.”  He finishes his coffee in one go, dons his hat and nods at Susannah as he lightly touches Katherine’s back to guide her to the door.  

Mulder helps Katherine up onto the wagon seat before hopping into his own place.  The bank is only a few minutes drive at the other end of the broad, dirt street.  Katherine catches sight of the saloon as they pass by and lowers her head, feeling shameful and embarrassed of the place.  

The bank is a square little building standing like a squat fortress at the end of the road.  Mulder takes her hand to help her from the wagon and she finds that she would not like to let go.  He waits patiently while she stares at the barred windows before her.  She’s in conflict.  She’s not in much of a hurry to find out how deeply into debt she is, but she would also like to get it over with as soon as possible.  

“There’s nothing to worry about,” Mulder says.  “Whatever Mr. Skinner has to tell you, you have my offer and I know that your past experience may have put you off of marriage, but I give you my word that even if you turn me down, I will help you in whatever way I can.”

She can only give him a thin-lipped smile.  Her late-night contemplations yielded no decisions for her.  She kept returning to her mother’s words, accept your penance and pray He forgives you.  The possibility of deep debt is just another consequence of her mistake.

“I am ready,” she says.

When she meets Mr. Skinner, she feels foolish for having mistaken Mulder for him.  He’s every bit as stuffy as all the other bankers she’s ever met.  His vest is as tightly buttoned as his shirt and he peers down at her from over the rims of his round, gold spectacles and then ushers her into his office.

“I’ll be out here if you need me,” Mulder says.

She feels a bit panicky.  She had thought Mulder would be with her and she wants to tell him that she does need him.  She wants him next to her, holding her hand.  Instead, she tamps down those fears and goes into the office with Mr. Skinner and sits in the chair he offers and holds her hands tightly in her lap to keep them from shaking.

“Mrs. Willis,” Mr. Skinner says.  “I’ve been expecting you.”

“You have?”  She’s puzzled.  She doesn’t know if she was supposed to turn herself in sooner.  Maybe she should have.  “I mean, I was actually expecting you.”

“Oh?”

“Isn’t that what happens when the bank takes your land?  They come for you?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because...because I don’t know what I must owe.”

“The usual ten dollars and sixty cents a month at the beginning of October.”

She stares at him blankly.  “The usual ten dollars and sixty cents?  There’s no...balance that might be due?”

“There is no balance due.  Your account is in good standing.  I assume you’re here to sign the lease transfer.”

“That would mean the land would be in my name?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“And I would pay the mortgage.”

“First of the month.”

“Ten dollars and sixty cents?”

“I’ll need a copy of your marriage certificate, if you have it.  And then I will need to send the paperwork to the office in Fort Worth and they will officiate the transfer.”

“Yes, I...I have my marriage certificate.”  She remembers the papers that are folded in the little handbag Susannah leant her and she pulls them out, unfolds them, and hands them over to Mr. Skinner.  “And a copy of the lease as well.”  

“No need for that, we have our own copy.”

“Oh, yes.  Of course.”

“I took the liberty of preparing the paperwork already and if you’ll just sign here and here where these x’s are.”  He pushes a piece of paper across his desk to her and hands her a fountain pen.

Her hand is shaking when she takes the pen and it takes her more time than it should to put her name in the two places indicated.  She takes a few passing glances at what she’s signing, but all she can see is the Transfer of Land Lease Ownership at the top.

“Is that all?” she asks.

“That is all.  You come back in a few weeks time and I’ll have a copy of the new lease for you.”

“Alright.  And I pay you ten dollars and sixty cents at the first of the month?”  

“Yes, that’s how it works.”

“Thank you, Sir.”  She blinks in astonishment that this has all happened so quickly.  Mulder was right, there was nothing to worry about.  Was there a way Jack could have been keeping up with the payments without her knowing?  He didn’t have a job she was aware of unless he was doing something illegal that he’d hidden from her, but where would he find the time between the drinking and the gambling to find work?

It dawns on her suddenly that there is no possible way that Jack had secretly been making mortgage payments this whole time.  The first of the month was a week ago and a handful of days.  Jack had been suffering with loose bowels at that time and spent four days crumbled in the broken bedstead yelling at her that she’d cursed him and been the source of all his pain for the past four years.  She’s also almost certain the month before that was when he’d brought home a jug of moonshine and passed out face up on the side of the house on the hottest day of the year and had a sunburn that looked like third degree burns.  She’d had to rip up part of the bed sheets to keep cool compresses on his head.

“Mulder,” she murmurs to herself.

“Mrs. Willis?”

Katherine hands the fountain pen she’s still holding back over to Mr. Skinner.  “What would happen to this lease if I were to remarry?” she asks.

“Your husband would assume the lease as a co-owner, naturally.”

“But, my name is on it now and will remain, is that correct?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“Thank you, Mr. Skinner.”

“It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Willis.”

She folds her copy of the lease back into a small square and puts it into the handbag at her wrist.  Her knees are shaking when she stands and she walks out to where Mulder is pacing near the windows.

“Well?” he asks.

“It appears as though my concerns were unfounded.”

“Oh?”

“There’s nothing owed.  Jack apparently kept the account in good standing.”

“Did he?  I guess the poker games must have paid off.”

“Mr. Skinner had me sign some papers to transfer the lease to my name.”

“That’s wonderful.  It means I can offer you a decent sum to sell me that parcel.”

“No, I don’t think I want to do that.”

He purses his lips a bit and shakes his head slowly.  “You don’t?”

“I think I’d like to keep it.  You said you’d help me in whatever way I needed, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did.  What would you like?”

“I think I should like to marry you, if the offer is still available.”

[blissfulalchemist]

“Your task is not to seek love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.”

- Rumi

Thank you to the wonderful and oh so talented @minilev for bringing to life the first face to face meeting of my girl Catlina and @risenlucifer’s Rafael. It came out perfect and I could not be happier! Thank you Kate for creating your boy and helping in creating this piece! 💜 Below the cut is the scene itself from their shared universe.

There was only one location in Hope County that became true neutral ground, and managed to stay that way even after the reaping began. The signs that stood outside the doors were the only indication of where the initial funding came from but nothing else that leant itself to associating itself with Eden’s Gate, just how Catlina wanted it from the start. Her outreach center was created to help all residents of Hope County have their needs met, not recruitment as some assumed. In recent weeks becoming a safe haven for those that didn’t ask to be caught in the crossfire of the holy war. Though Catlina was finding it harder to offer up something as someone kept stealing the wrong trucks. Didn’t matter how many times she tried to make them as distinct as possible from the other ones the deputy was allowed to take from Eden’s Gate he still managed to find a way to hit her trucks now and again. 

Cat was lucky that the truck that brought about her special order had survived, all the items planned to be a gift for the fabled friend of Deputy Wes. It's not that she wanted to be a creep, but sometimes it was hard to not overhear the conversations he and John would have as she waited for him to leave or at least make her presence known. It was nice to just hear someone else’s voice in the house that didn’t seem to spout the same notions as everyone else, so she’d prolong the amount of time they had together. It was during one of the times she’d opted to sneak back into the house that she heard the passing comment and joke about his friend’s complaints of not being able to make any sort of decent meal with the food that was offered in the Whitetails. 

No surprise to her as that was the place hardest to get any kind of supplies, seeing as Jacob took most of it. Her heart went out to Wes’ friend and she had the means, so she compiled what she could based on the conversation Wes and her husband had, leaving it on the doorstep of the deputy a note attached specifying its intended recipient. That was over a week ago and she hadn’t heard anything about it or related to it. She hadn’t put a name with the note, maybe that was the problem, just the location of the outreach center in case they wanted more and Cat held hope that she’d get to meet them, maybe make the first real connection with someone on the other side of this war. 

Each swinging of the door had her looking up, heart racing only to be met with disappointment when it was someone she recognized. “You know you don’t even know what he looks like right,” Lance teased, smirking as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed. 

“Well do you know what he looks like?” She asked, waving to one of the locals that came by weekly, “Because maybe then you can give me a hint or a name?”

“Firstly, Wes could have had a change of friends since I last remembered,” he pushed himself off looking out the window at the cars driving by, “Secondly, if it is still the same guy he was a bit scrawny still last I saw of him.”

She rolled her eyes, “Did you just become a hermit or something at some point? Cause you said the same about the deputy,” Cat moved back behind the counter leaning her elbows against it, “and we both know how he turned out.” 

Lance gave a small laugh looking back at Cat, “You starting to feel jealous?”

Cat narrowed her eyes, “No,” she let out a sigh, ”I just want friends. Or some way to not feel so lonely.” She looked at Lance’s hazel eyes, “Not that you’re not my friend it’s just-.”

“I know. Want people your own age,” Lance’s eyes moved to the person walking through the door, locking onto the holstered handgun, “I was a young man once too.”

Catlina’s eyes followed the patron around the store too until their items were brought up to the counter. She helped him get settled, taking the little money he had to offer before watching him make his way out of the building, leaving her and Lance alone. 

“How late are you wanting to stay today?” Lance asked, stretching out his arms, “I don’t think we have to worry about interrupting anything back at the ranch.” He took his seat in the front corner of the store, hands picking up the latest in his engine projects John had given him, “Besides you have to go to the service in the morning, can’t be up too late.”

She gave a small eye roll, “I just want to make sure I don’t miss him. Maybe he can only come later in the day.” Or maybe he never planned on showing. 

“So a bit after sundown again?”

She nodded, making herself busy with the smaller inventory behind the counter, “I might have to give up after this week though.” She tapped the pen on the table, “I shouldn’t be holding out too much hope. Not like many people trust me nowadays.” She looked up to the sound of a car pulling up to the building, shoulders sagging letting out a breath, It probably wasn’t him. I really need to stop hoping at this point, “Well outside Eden’s Gate at least.”

She rested her forehead against the counter, the sound of the bell announcing the person that just pulled up, their footsteps filling the space of the small shop. Cat didn’t look up as she traced his movement in the building from the sound of his shoes against the old wood alone. There were a few pauses as he seemed to look around, Cat moving to lay her head against her arm, writing out the list of what may be needed soon. 

“Excuse me, ma’am,” the shopper called out in a voice clear and deep, “there are no prices on anything.”

Cat lifted her head, giving a smile glancing his way, “Its because this is a pay what you can center. It can range from zero to full price.” She turned to face him head on, eyes locking with his, her heart stopping a moment before starting to race. He was new and she couldn’t look away from his brown eyes, warm, inviting, and a bit playful. His dark curls falling perfectly framing his face, accented by a neatly kept beard. His clothing, while simple, appeared to be of higher quality than other residents of the county. The dark blue cardigan over his burgundy shirt, and silver necklaces catching in the light, bright, though not enough to outshine his smile. His smile, how assuring it made her feel. All of him….perfect. 

Well that’s just unfair, she thought as her mouth went dry, trying to gain some semblance of composure. Cat cleared her throat, smoothing out her dress hiding the reddening of her cheeks as he walked closer. “Just like that? I could take whatever I wanted,” he asked, Cat nodding in response, “However much I wanted?”

She started to nod again, stopping, “Erm, well within reason. Wouldn’t be really fair if you took all of a supply that was needed by everyone, you know?”

He gave a small nod, “So you run this place based on trust and merit,” he leaned on the counter, Cat taking a step back, “Seems a little bold in a place like this.” She gave a shrug, “Looks like you’re running a bit low though,” he gestured to the store around him.

“I know,” she let out a sigh, “My trucks have been getting snatched up.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Oh?”

“I mean, yes it's bad for me and the center but I can’t blame him for taking them,” she stammered out, “He’s been giving them to those that need the supplies, so in the end it’s serving their purposes. I just wish he’d have thought to ask or target the other trucks.”

“The deputy?” Cat nodded in response, “He’s been taking your trucks?”

“Yeah,” she waved, “but it doesn’t matter if the supplies are serving those that need them.”

“But if he asked, you’d just give them to him,” Cat found herself locked in his gaze once more, They feel so much like his eyes. How’s possible?, “Why do that?”

Cat looked down stuffing the memories back into their box, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear, “It’s the right thing to do. There’s a lot of people willing to fight and defend their homes, but what about the people that didn’t ask to be a part of any of this?” She met his eyes, “I know it's hard to believe but there are people on both sides that just wanted to live in peace. Some just want to worship a faith without the violence and not to mention the locals that never sold their homes but couldn’t afford the means to leave. A sort of stubborn pride in its own right.” Cat looked around the center, smiling, “This place is for them. It's for anyone really, I fight hard to keep this place a sanctuary for anyone that needs it, no matter where they come from.” She met his eyes rolling her shoulders back, nothing that his posture had never changed, “Everyone is worth saving and helping when in need.” 

His face unreadable he studied her, standing straighter, “Guess what they say about you and this place is true,” Cat tilted her head, brow furrowing, “The signs though,” he jerked a thumb to the front of the building, “well that kind of makes it hard to believe.”

Her shoulders sagged, “I know,” rolling her eyes letting out a breath, “It was either those or some audio played on the speakers. I’m contractually obligated to have one or the other.” He laughed, startling her before she felt herself loosen up, laughing along with him, “You think I’m kidding?”

“Yeah I do a bit,” she smirked, pulling out the copy of her outreach center contract with John, dropping it in front of him. His laughter stopping, the smile remaining as he looked it over, “Never mind, guess I was wrong,” he flipped through the pages, “Even got it notarized I see.”

“Mhm,” he passed the papers back to her, “I had to make it as official as possible. If I’ve learned anything it's that the best way to beat a lawyer is using their own tricks against them.”

“Clever,” he gave a light bang of his hand against the wood of the counter, “So tell me, what would one owe for these items,” he pulled out a slip of paper, “They got left with a friend of mine and I want to make sure I’m not in debt.”

Cat’s eyes went wide as she looked over the list, each item one that she left on Deputy Wes’ doorstep. It’s him. It’s really him. He came by and I….feel unprepared. Her hands started to shake, trying to refocus her brain on what was happening. “Oh right uhm, noth-nothing,” her words tumbled out, “Nothing. First one is uhm, first one’s free.”

“What if I want to give a little something for it,” he had his wallet out, “It is a pay what you can center as you said.”

“I- I uh, I did. I said that,” she cleared her throat, “Besides the point. I think I heard mention that it was a gift and you don’t pay for gifts, that’s just rude.”

“Then a donation?” He placed a few bills in her hands, Cat pushing them back over into his, electricity coursing through her with each touch, shaking her head. He was so easy to talk to, why does this feel so normal and so scary? Am I dreaming it? Probably. “We’re not getting anywhere with this are we,” he laughed, Did he just have to be so charming? He has to be this way with everyone.

“No. It’s because I insist,” she took a deep breath, “It was a gift. You don’t owe me anything.” Cat snapped her jaw closed, wincing at revealing herself to be the gift giver. 

He stopped, “So it was you? You’re the one that gave me the basket.” Cat’s cheeks burned, nodding slowly, “You didn’t leave a name on the note. Why is that?”

“I-,” Cat stopped, she didn’t really have much of an answer, “Names are complicated and besides I didn’t need to be thanked for doing something nice.”

“Well I’m going to thank you,” he held his hand out to her, Cat taking it gingerly, “You made my meals feel decent for once.”

“Oh did you use everything already,” her hand shaking his still, “I can get some more on the list for you, for next time you come around.”

He shook his head, “No I’m okay for now. I will, however, keep you in mind when I want to indulge.” He let go of her hand humming in thought, “You don’t get a lot of people from the Whitetails do you?”

She shook her head, “No, that seems to be the hardest place to make a dent in anything getting up there. And if I’m being honest I think people are scared to leave their homes.”

“I tend to do a bit of work up there, maybe I can help and be a sort of liaison. If you’d like,” her heart fluttered at the idea of seeing him more and talking to him and working with him. Just the idea of him.

“I assume you and the militia up there will help in distribution,” he gave a curt nod, Cat looking at Lance who just gave a shrug in return, “Only if you promise that it just be you guys giving it out, that it’s done fairly, and maybe put the word out to some of the locals that this really is a place they won’t be harmed.” She took a breath, her rambling stopping before she could make it worse.

“Sounds like we’re making a tentative partnership,” he smirked, some curls falling out of place, “Should I get the local public notary?”

Cat laughed, shaking her head as she looked down to the old wood, “No. I think we can settle this on our own….for now at least.” She stood straighter, holding her hand out to him, “So what do you say mister….?”

“Rafael,” he clasped his hand around hers, “or Raf as some people call me.”

“Raf,” she repeated, “Unique name nowadays.”

He nodded, giving her a pointed look, “And what shall I call you, Mrs. Seed?”

Catlina’s face turned in disgust, “Anything but that really.”

“Well I can certainly call you Mary if you like,” he smirked, “though something tells me you don’t like that name either.”

“It’s not the worst name out there,” she mumbled picking at the wood, “It’s just-.” How does he feel so easy to talk to?, she thought looking over at Lance. He gave a slight shake of his head, “You know why don’t I let you just decide what to call me.” Cat gave Lance a small shrug, “I don’t think you’ll give me something I’ll hate to be called,” Raf’s dark eyes regarded her, “Just don’t use my height as a nickname please if you decide to go a nickname route. That’s my only rule.”

Raf chuckled, “Might need a little time to come up with that. For now, why don’t I just call you,” she braced herself at his pause regretting his offer to just call her Mary, “conejito.”

Cat blinked back in surprise, “Conejito,” she repeated the word sounding familiar. The recollections she could muster never put the word in a bad light, many in her family always calling others by that name with affection, even though she never really bothered to ever ask what it meant. And she wasn’t going to start now. It sounded sweet and the flutter in her chest brought about the feeling of normal she’d been missing, or the flutter came from the way the evening sun hit his eyes just so, paired with the smile he gave. “It’s acceptable for a temporary name Rafael,” Catlina returned his smile, cheeks burning. Her heart thumped in her chest only managing to focus on his eyes, she looked away clearing her throat, “So, uhm, when will I see you again to discuss more details of our partnership?”

“Few days,” his eyes glanced outside the window, “I have to talk to some people up there, see what they need and want from this partnership.” 

“Oh,” Cat’s heart fell, “I mean, well that makes sense. I should uhm, well I should prepare and look into what I can offer, so we can get to a middle ground,” she stammered, stopping herself as she twisted the tips of her fingers. 

“That sounds like a good plan. How late are you normally open?”

“I’m pretty flexible,” she said, Lance giving a snort, “Well uhm, I mean whenever you need me I can be there however you need me,” Cat shut her eyes letting out a breath, Raf laughing softly, “Well you get what I mean.”

“I do, Conejito, I do,” Raf shook his head, running a hand through his hair, “I’ll try to come later in the day, but I’ll try to give you a bit of a warning.”

“Yeah, yeah. That works,” Cat bounced on her toes, “I’m sure you have to be uh going I assume. Do you need a ride? Cause we can give you one?”

He pointed to the car still parked outside the building, “I brought my own ride,” Cat gave a slow nod, “Thank you for the offer though.” Raf took a few steps back, raising his hand, waving, “I’ll see you in a few days, Conejito.” 

Cat waved back, “See you.” She watched as he made his way out of the building and into the car, looking back inside of the building once it was out of sight. 

Cat groaned, lying her head against the counter, “Not as scrawny anymore,” Lance said standing from his chair, “Guess you were right.”

Cat looked up, narrowing her eyes, “That your way of telling me I told you so?”

Lance smiled, “No,” he chuckled before his face grew serious, “You should be careful though.”

“What do you mean?” Cat asked, raising a brow.

“He’s not just the deputy’s friend,” Lance moved locking up the windows, “He’s pretty well known in the mountains, call him the Saint.” Cat stood straighter, crossing her arms as she looked at the ground, “He’s got a target on his back, pretty big one if I’m not mistaken. Might be a little dangerous to work too close to him.” 

“I have the sway to keep this place and my work in the middle, not on either side.” 

Lance hummed, “Hm, I just wouldn’t count on that staying for very long. Just in case.” He turned to her, holding his hand out for the keys as Cat tossed them his way, “Don’t want to see you get hurt, is all.” 

“I won’t be. I got you here,” Cat moved to stand next to him, bumping his arm, “and he seems trustworthy enough.” Lance put an arm around her, “Who knows this might be the best thing for us. We could do more good around here, get this whole war ended sooner.”

“Get you out sooner,” Lance whispered, “I’ll look into him more see where he stands on things. Just to be on the safe side.” He rubbed her arm, patting it as he moved to lock the front door, “Let’s get back to the ranch shall we?” 

Cat nodded, grabbing her sweater, “Yeah, let’s go. I have to distract myself anyway.”

“Not gonna be able to get his eyes out of your mind for awhile are ya?” Lance laughed, leading them to the car, Cat giving him a shove, “Hey you were the one that was kind of obvious in your drooling over him.”

Cat rolled her eyes, “You were real popular with Sage when she was in high school, weren’t you?” Lance laughed in response as the two pulled out onto the road to drive them back. He was right, and that didn’t make it any less appealing to Cat to want to get to know Raf and hopefully become close to him. No matter how their relationship played out, part of her just knew she wanted him in her life and that nothing was going to be the same now.

[jewish-space-laser]

Miles & Black Coffee - Part One

“When you’re on a golden sea, You don’t need no memory, Just a place to call your own, As we drift into the zone...” 

-Island in the Sun by Weezer

Hello, and welcome to part one of M&BC! She’s split up into parts, a day late, and a bit rusty... but she’s here! It’ll be my first new piece of writing since I rejoined tumblr, so it’s a bit nerve-wracking. Thank you to Kate @andwhenshesays, Anne @oh-honey-styles, and Anna @for-fucks-sake-h for organizing this entire challenge, you’ve brought so much joy to our little tumblr community. We love you all dearly ♥️ (4.5k words)

xoxoxox Tile

Warnings: mild drinking, mild drug use (just weed)

You and Harry would never be friends. You were up and down, night and day, oil and water. You just didn’t mesh. He was your roommate’s insufferable older brother, and that is all he would ever be. Well, at least that’s what you thought before….

or

the one with campfire conversations, cabin getaways, and enemies that were never really enemies after all.

MONDAY

Pine trees and cornfields flew by in a blur as you stared out the window of your roommate’s minivan. Every once in a while, there’d be a pasture of cows or a horse ranch. It had been exciting at first, but now you were just bored. 

“How much longer?” You called over the music, trying to keep the whine from your voice. It had been hours since you left your apartment this morning, and you’d only stopped once to stretch your legs and take a bathroom break. 

“The GPS says we still have an hour and a half to go,” Callie groaned, stepping a bit harder on the gas pedal.

Normally, you loved road trips, but this particular drive was more cramped than you’d bargained for. There were seven girls packed into the van, and you’d been unfortunate enough to get squished into the backseat with your twin sister and her girlfriend, who hadn’t stopped with the obnoxious PDA since the car got on the freeway. 

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, trying to will away your nauseating carsickness. This week had been marked into your calendar for months, and you’d be damned if you let this god-awful car ride ruin it for you. 

Callie, your college roommate, had a cabin in northern Wisconsin that she’d been raving about for years. She’d been going there with her family for decades, every summer since pre-school, she’d said. According to her, it was a beautiful property, equipped with a private lakeside beach, fire pit, and a full bar. 

It was going to be the perfect getaway. You and Callie had rounded up all of your girlfriends, packed all of the essentials for a spa night, junk food, board games, movies. You’d packed four swimsuits just in case; the weather forecast looked fantastic, high seventies and low eighties all week long. 

It was going to be the perfect vacation. Well, almost perfect. 

Harry was going to be there.

Harry, the constant thorn in your side. Harry, Callie’s older brother. Harry, the one who eats all of your food whenever he visits. Harry, the one who constantly picked fights with you. You and him had never gotten along, not even for a second. 

There wasn’t a single person alive who got on your nerves more than he did. Generally, you got along with most people, but Harry was the exception to the rule. You couldn’t seem to shake him off. 

You weren’t about to let him ruin this trip, though. There were going to be fourteen people staying at the cabin, so it should be a piece of cake to avoid him for a week; there were plenty of other people to interact with. And even if you couldn’t avoid him, you were going to let his inevitable snarky comments roll off of your back. Well, you’d try to, at least.

Perhaps that’s what annoyed you most about him, the reaction you’d have from the smallest fight. With anyone else, it was water under the bridge… with Harry, you thought about it for days afterwards, thinking of better comebacks you should’ve said or ways you could have changed your schedule to steer clear of him altogether. He made your skin prickle with irritation, and turned you into somebody you didn’t like very much. 

It had been months since you’d seen him, not that you’d been keeping track. He typically visits Callie a few times a semester, but his senior year was more intense than he had anticipated, according to his sister. He just couldn’t spare the two hour drive from his university to yours.

But now it was summertime. Gone were the papers, projects, and responsibilities… it was finally time to relax and have fun. You only had one year of college left before graduation, so you and your friends wanted to make the most of it. Harry and his friends had just graduated, so they were at the cabin for their last hurrah before real life kicked in. 

If you were being honest with yourself, you were excited that Harry was bringing some of his frat brothers along. You and your ex had just ended things recently, and you were finally feeling ready to get back into the dating game. Being trapped in a cabin with a handful of cute guys felt like a dream. 

Finally, after what felt like centuries, Callie slowed the car down and turned onto a dirt road. The other girls in the car started desperately peering out the window to get a glimpse of the lake and surrounding forest. 

The moment the cabin came into view, your jaw dropped. You knew Callie’s parents were loaded, but this hardly looked like the rustic getaway you were expecting. There were three buildings, each labelled with a birch bark sign. Two speedboats and a pontoon were docked at the beach, inflatable tubes and paddleboards littered around the sand nearby. 

It wasn’t until Callie parked and shut off the engine that you heard a heavy bass thrum coming from the building marked MAIN CABIN. The other two buildings were labelled GUEST CABIN and SHOWER HOUSE. You were snapped out of it when Olivia and Jane, who had been sitting in the middle bucket seats, swung their sliding doors open and practically fell onto the ground. 

“I don’t think I remember how to walk normally,” Charlie, a girl from your art history class, groaned, “like, we were sitting in that car for so long….”

“Oh, shush,” your sister, Morgan, scoffed, “at least you got to sit up front. I was crammed into the back between these two.”

Both you and her girlfriend, Isobel, huffed in protest, but it wasn’t worth picking a fight over. You’d have plenty of time to bicker later. For now, the fresh air and cool breeze were like heaven after a long road trip.

“The boys beat us here,” Callie remarked.

Sure enough, there were two other cars already parked in the driveway. Back behind the main cabin, a plume of smoke rose into the air. You could hear loud laughter, loud enough to drown out the trap music they had playing. 

“They’ve started a bonfire!” Olivia squealed, clasping her hands in front of her chest. “I’m ready to get partying… it’s four in the afternoon and I’ve spent all day in a car. I need a drink.”

A few others were laughing and nodding in agreement, already making their way towards the boys, but you hung back. You’d party later, but after spending an entire day stuck with six other people, you just wanted to be alone. Plus, you wanted to drink tonight, and you’d never get around to unpacking your bag if you were wasted. 

You managed to dig your duffel bag out from the pile of luggage in the trunk, letting it fall to the ground with a thump. Callie had just been finishing up with a phone call when you looked up. 

“Hey, you’re not joining the others?” She asked. “I was about to head over, they’ve got a fire going. Just had to call my mum to let her know we made it.”

“I’ll join in a bit,” you promised “but I want to unpack my things first… where are we all staying?”

“You’re in the main cabin, I have you sharing a room with Charlie, is that okay?” She questioned. You nodded quickly, relief flooding over you. You liked all of the girls who came on the trip, but Charlie was by far the easiest to get along with. “Harry and I each have our own room in the main cabin, too, so you won’t be alone. Everyone else is in the guest cabin, though.”

“The guest cabin,” you giggled, slinging your bag over your shoulder as Callie lead you into the main building, “this place is swanky, Cal.”

“We host all of our family reunions here,” she shrugged, “we need lots of space. Plus it’s fun for occasions like this… we’re just lucky my dad is letting us use the boats. He treats those things like they’re his own children, only Harry is allowed to drive them this week.”

You made a face at the mention of her brother. “I’ll be staying far away from the boats, then.”

“Oh god,” Callie groaned, “I know you two don’t get along very well, but please try to be civil… we’re here for a whole week, after all.”

“I’m always civil,” you protested innocently, “it’s him you need to worry about.”

“Always civil,” she scoffed, “we both know that’s not true, but I’ll let it slide.”

Okay, so maybe you had a slight temper when it came to Harry, but nine times out of ten, he was the one who started the argument. You were never the type to actively seek out conflict, but Harry seemed to thrive off of it. Whether it was eating all the food from your half of the fridge, throwing his dark blue t-shirt in with your load of whites, or playing his guitar in your living room until three in the morning when you had a test the next day… it felt like he was out to get you. 

And he was never apologetic. Of course not. He probably got off on watching steam blow from your ears. 

You took a deep breath as Callie led you up a wooden staircase, trying not to let yourself get worked up. The cabin was gorgeous from what you’d seen on the main floor. Though you hadn’t lingered, you’d noticed that there was a bookshelf that took up an entire wall, packed to the brim with books with faded spines, vinyl records with worn edges, and an assortment of candles and bookends sprinkled throughout randomly. You couldn’t wait to explore the entire property. 

Photographs lined the walls of every hallway, snapshots of Harry and Callie running around as kids. There was a hilarious picture of a young Harry crying as he held a fishing pole, a bare hook dangling from the line. The Styles family clearly had a great sense of humor. You made a mental note to take a photo of it on your phone later; it would be perfect ammo for the next fight that Harry would inevitably start. 

“This is the bathroom…” she drawled, “no shower though. We all just use the shower house, which isn’t really as bad as it sounds. Just make sure you bring clothes with you, otherwise you’ll have to walk across the lawn in just your towel.”

You grimaced at the thought. As she continued to lead you down the hall, you saw two doors, one with CALLIE’S ROOM written in bright pink bubble letters, and the second with a wooden plaque, the word HARRY written in what was clearly a child’s handwriting. 

“This is technically my parents’ room, but we use it as a guest room if it’s just us kids,” Callie explained, stopping at the last door in the hallway, “they have a king bed, so I figured you and Charlie could just share.”

“That’s fine,” you assured her, not hesitating to drop your heavy duffel onto the side of the bed closest to the window, “this place is awesome, Callie.”

“Right?” She grinned. “I’m stoked for the week, it’s gonna be so fun.”

“You should go down to the bonfire,” you told her, placing a hand on your bag, “I’ll come join as soon as I’m done.”

Luckily, your roommate of two years understood that you needed alone time sometimes, so she left you without protest. 

This was exactly the recharge time that you needed. You were the kind of person who loved being around friends, but there was only so much socializing you could handle before you needed a break to be on your own. Even though you hadn’t spoken much on the ride to the cabin, being squished into a mini-van with six other girls drained your social battery. Giving yourself a moment to breathe and relax was necessary if you were going to rejoin the group.

Pressing the shuffle play button on your spotify, you smiled when the soft melody of your favorite folk song thrummed through your headphones. You swayed from side-to-side as you unzipped your bag, which had been packed to perfection. 

Four swimsuits, a different outfit for each day (plus a few extra items… overpacking is better than underpacking), sunscreen, bug spray, all of your toiletries. It was fun to organize everything into the empty wardrobe by the window; looking at all of your stuff just made you more excited to be here.

Time flew by as you danced around the room. Most of your things were put away, and you’d stashed your empty bag under the bed. The one thing you hadn’t put away yet was your assortment of swimsuits. It had been difficult picking out which ones you wanted to bring, but you’d settled on three bikinis and a one-piece with the sides cut out. You were itching to change out of your leggings and t-shirt; they felt gross against your skin after sitting in the van all day. 

Just as you went to pick up your navy blue sequined bikini top, a hand abruptly clamped down on your shoulder. 

“Holy shit!” You spun around on your heels, hand flying to cover your beating heart. You were less than pleased to find Harry standing there, wide-eyed and trying to mask his amusement by biting down on his lip. 

“Didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” he chuckled, “forgot how jumpy you are.”

“I’m not jumpy,” you frowned, pulling your headphones out of your ears and crossing your arms over your stomach, “what are you doing in here?”

“Nice to see you too,” he scoffed, dimple indenting into his cheek, “I was just using the loo, then I was gonna go back to the party, where we’re having fun. Foreign concept to you, I’m sure.”

You rolled your eyes, turning around so he couldn’t see how hard you were scowling. He always knew just what to say to get your blood boiling.

“Are you implying that I don’t know how to have fun, Harry?” You asked sarcastically. 

“Ah, I knew you were smarter than you looked,” he grinned. “Cute swim top.”

It was only then that you noticed his attire. Well, lack of attire. He was wearing the smallest swimming shorts you’d ever seen, his chest tanned from the sun and completely bare apart from a single cross necklace that hung over his sternum. His hair had grown out since the last time you saw him, and it looked a bit ridiculous with his sunglasses on top of his head. 

He looked good, not that you’d ever admit it. Luckily, you were fantastic at masking your wandering eyes; he had a tendency of walking around your apartment in his boxers during visits, so you’d had plenty of practice.

“Shut up,” you groaned, throwing the bikini top back onto the bed. You’d been planning on wearing that one, but Harry ruined it with his gross comment, just like he ruins most things for you. 

“I’m quite incapable of shutting up,” he mused, throwing himself down onto your side of the bed, “you should know this by now.”

“Trust me,” you were completely unamused, still standing with your arms crossed over your stomach, “I’m well aware.”

“You should come join the party,” he continued speaking as if you hadn’t said anything, seemingly unfazed by how visibly irritated you were, “it’s the first day and you’re already being a buzzkill. Maybe you should try like… try stepping out of your comfort zone, just for the week.”

“Thank you so much for that lovely unsolicited advice,” you said sarcastically, “now if we’re talking about comfort zones, you laying on my bed is definitely out of mine.”

“Please, you love me on your bed,” he smirked, closing his eyes, “this is a dream come true for you.”

“Are you delusional?” You were running out of patience. “Did you hit your head?”

“Why?” He said innocently. “Are you thinking about playing nurse? Because I hate to break your heart, but I’m not into wet blankets. Maybe if you loosened up a bit.”

If he wasn’t gone in thirty seconds, you were going to scream. He seemed to be enjoying himself, arms crossed behind his head with a twinkle in his eye as you stared daggers at him. 

“Are you quite done?” You spit. “I can feel my IQ dropping every time you speak. Plus, I need to change before I come down.”

“Ooh, can I watch?” He waggled his eyebrows. 

That was it. “Harry, get out, okay?”

“Jeez, okay, fine,” he grumbled, rolling clumsily off of the bed, “so bossy, you are.”

You pointed a finger towards the door, leveling him with the steeliest glare you could muster. “Out,” you repeated.

“You should come down sooner rather than later,” he said, completely unbothered, “I’m sure you’ll be much nicer once you’ve had a drink or two.”

He was gone before you could think of a response. The annoyance bubbling inside you was so intense, you felt like you wanted to break something. Instead, you punched your pillow a few times to release some tension, taking a deep breath to compose yourself after.

You wrinkled your nose at the blue bikini top, choosing to wear an orange floral patterned one instead. You’d never give Harry the satisfaction.

~~~

The fire was absolutely roaring. 

It was perfect. The fire pit was lined with wooden logs, the tops shaved off to make benches. There was hardly enough space for all fourteen of you, but you managed to squeeze in as you all roasted corn and hot dogs over the fire. It wasn’t too windy, so you didn’t have to worry about smoke blowing into your eyes, but the bugs were relentless. 

The air around you smelled of smoke, bug spray, and good food. There were a few different conversations happening, and every once in a while, a few people would break out into loud, contagious laughter. 

Harry had tried to talk to you when you came down, but you’d avoided him like the plague. You had absolutely nothing nice to say to him after his snarky comments in your room, and any further interaction with him at this point would just end in disaster. Thankfully, he was quickly distracted by some of his frat brothers, and he hadn’t tried to approach you again all night. 

Now, you were chatting with Olivia and one of the boys, Luke. By the time you’d gone down to the bonfire, everyone was several drinks in. You’d been forced to play catch-up by way of tequila shots, so you had a pleasant buzz running through your veins.

“This is a perfect summer night,” you sighed happily, pulling your skewer from the flames to keep your corn from burning. 

“Almost perfect,” a boy named Archie corrected, “we haven’t been out on the lake yet.”

Harry and three of the other boys had arrived a night early to get the boats ready, and now that Archie mentioned it, the pontoon was looking mighty tempting. The sun hadn’t fully set, but dusk was beginning to settle in, blanketing the forest with pink and orange hues, a gorgeous reflection of the sunset above you. It was the perfect time to go out on the water.

“How do we feel about the pontoon?” You wondered out loud. There was no way you’d all fit, but you could go in groups. 

“It’s too buggy to be on the water,” Callie wrinkled her nose, “I’m getting eaten alive as it is.”

“I’m down, as long as I can smoke a spliff while we’re out there,” James, one of the other boys, shrugged, “obviously I’ll share, I brought tons.”

A few others around the circle chimed in with their interest, and before you knew it, people were standing up to make their way over to the docks. You weren’t the best with names, but much to your relief, you’d introduced yourself to everyone going on the boat. Obviously, you already knew Morgan and Isobel, and were somewhat friendly with Jane, Archie, and James. 

“I’ll come along, too,” a voice behind you yawned. When you turned around, you immediately felt yourself melt. Ryan, a boy you’d had a single class with freshman year, was stretching his arms out as he stood up, and he was looking directly at you with a flirtatious smile. 

You’d had a major crush on him for the entirety of your class together, but you’d been too shy to say anything to him. He was a whole year older, after all, and that had been intimidating when you were eighteen. 

You returned his smile, biting down on your bottom lip shyly. 

“I guess I’m going too, then,” Harry sighed, shoving the last of his hot dog into his mouth before dusting his hands off. 

Immediately, your face dropped. Harry snorted when he saw your expression, digging around the pocket in his swimsuit to retrieve a key. 

“I’m the only one allowed to drive the boats, remember? Dad made me promise.” 

Your shoulders slumped. You’d completely forgotten that Callie had mentioned it to you earlier. You weren’t about to turn down a sunset boat ride though, especially now that Ryan was coming along as well. 

Everyone scarfed down the rest of their food in a rush as Harry went over to untie the boat and make sure it was good to go. You watched as he leaned far over the edge of the dock, so far that nearly fell face-first into the water before righting himself and trying again.. 

“Hey,” Ryan had walked next to you, following your line of sight, “he’s gonna fall in, isn’t he?”

“I hope so,” you giggled.

“You were in my History 204 class, weren’t you? Sophomore year?” He asked.

Your entire body flushed. You didn’t think he’d noticed you at all, let alone enough to remember you years later. Having Ryan up at the cabin, talking to you, felt like a dream come true.

“I was a freshman, but yeah, I think so,” you nodded nonchalantly, “I hated that professor.”

“Oh god, same!” He laughed, shaking his head, “such a drag, just constant pop quizzes!”

“Ugh, yes!” You turned your body towards him fully. “And that midterm assignment….”

“Don’t even get me started,” Ryan pretended to shiver in fear. 

You laughed loudly, and from the corner of your eye you saw Harry turn to glance in your direction. Upon a closer look, he’d managed to wrangle the boat so it was right up against the dock. 

“All aboard!” He shouted.

You rolled your eyes at his ridiculous antics. He always thought he was so funny, especially when you were the butt of his jokes. You hoped he’d be too busy driving to bother you. 

Luckily, Ryan seemed keen to stay by your side, even helping you step into the boat by taking your hand to keep you balanced, so Harry didn’t have much of a chance to say anything. By the time the boat was moving, everyone was sitting in a circle on the floor, clipping in the life jackets that Callie had forced us all to wear. 

As soon as the wind blew through your hair, you tilted your head up and closed your eyes. Lakes didn’t smell great, but you’d always loved it. It was classic, nostalgic. You’d spent every summer of your life swimming in Midwest lakes, so it felt just like summer.

James was true to his word, and pulled out four fatly rolled joints, passing them around with a lighter. You didn’t do this often, but it felt like the perfect moment. The sun was disappearing fast, and soon enough you’d be able to see the stars.

At some point, Harry slowed the engine down to a gentle hum when the boat reached the middle of the lake, getting a couple of the others to help him throw the anchor over the edge. Afterwards, he moved back over to the driving console and fiddled with a few buttons until quiet, staticky music sounded out. He then sat down across the circle from you, immediately accepting one of the joints from Archie. 

You stood up on your knees, and looked around. Water lapped lightly against the sides of the boat, so it took you a moment to find your equilibrium. The silhouette of the tall pines surrounding the lake were awe-striking. 

Nobody wanted to break the silence, so you didn’t. The weed was starting to take effect, making your body feel heavy and your head feel light. You started to lay down, unclipping your life jacket to use as a pillow. Slowly, your friends followed your lead, the sounds of shuffling and buckles popping open momentarily interrupting the tranquil silence. 

You watched the sky change from pink to a deep blue, only turning your head away when the first stars became visible. Morgan was laying next to you, staring straight up at the sky. To anyone else, she looked like she was lost in thought, but you knew her better than that. There was a slight frown, watery eyes, a little crinkle across her forehead... she was worried about something. 

“What are you thinking about?” You asked, trailing a hand down her arm. She let out a long exhale. 

“This is gonna sound so soppy,” Morgan sighed, “but I can’t stop thinking about like… how different I would be if I could just, change things about myself.”

“I like you the way you are,” Isobel frowned, sitting up slightly to look at her, “plus, you can change things about yourself. People do it all the time. New hairstyles, piercings, clothes. You could completely rebrand yourself anytime you want.”

“She’s not talking about her appearance,” you said softly, squeezing Morgan’s hand, “she means… like, changing who you are, at your very core. Things you can’t help.”

“I get that,” Ryan chimed in, “I think about that, too. If I could change one thing about myself, I would make myself more motivated. My life would be so different if I could just… alter one tiny thing.”

“Exactly!” Morgan nodded. “I would… make myself less impulsive, I think. I have so many regrets, and it’s all because I never properly think before I act. I’d be so much better off if I could just learn to be more careful.”

“I like how spontaneous you are,” Isobel hummed, “but I think I know what you mean. If I could change anything about myself, I’d make myself less anxious. Anxiety has always held me back so much… I mean, fuck… I haven’t even come out to my family yet, even though I know they’d support me. I’d be so much happier if I could appreciate the good things in life, rather than stress about how to keep them.”

“I’m with Isobel,” Harry spoke. He’d just taken a rather large pull from the joint, so his voice came out rougher than gravel. “Anxiety is such a bitch, and it’s like, out of our control. It’s kept me from talking about my feelings so many times, and I feel like I’ve missed out on some really good friendships because of it.”

Despite the heaviness of the conversation, you felt happier than you had in a long time. You’d smoked just enough to feel numb, and the waves were rocking against the boat so gently that it felt like you were floating. You took a deep breath in through your nose, feeling the crisp forest air fill your lungs before exhaling. The stars were shining in the cloudless sky, crickets were chirping along the shore, and soft music was filtering through the cheap boat stereo. It was peaceful, listening to your friends pour their hearts out. 

Each person took a turn sharing what they would change about themselves. Archie would get rid of his bad temper, James would become a better listener, and Jane would be less self-conscious. 

“What would you change?” Morgan turned to look at you. 

You and your twin sister were very different people. So different, in fact, that you sometimes forgot that you were identical. In moments like this, when her eyes were watery and hooded, voice thick with sadness and hope, that you were reminded of how similar you could be. 

“If I could change anything about myself….” you mused, closing your eyes. “I think I would… let things go.”

“Let things go?” Archie echoed.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “like, let go of the past. Whenever something bad happens to me, I let it really get to me. Negative memories and feelings just… constantly eat away at me. I wish I could just wake up in the morning and think about the future… because thinking about the past is exhausting.”

Nobody spoke after your confession. Nobody tried to assure anyone that they would be okay, or convince anyone that they didn’t need to change. There was something comforting about lying in a circle with your friends, your sister… even Harry, because you were all flawed, and none of you knew what the future would bring. You all found solace in the fact that you were here, right now, laying in a circle on a boat, with an old jazz song ringing through the air.

And who knows… maybe someday, you’ll all find a way to change the parts of yourselves that bother you. Maybe you’ll learn to appreciate them. Maybe your flaws will end up helping you in the long run. 

But for now, none of you were alone. And that was enough.

~~~

Thank you for reading! I love getting feedback, so let me know what you thought! xoxoxoxoxoooooxxxxxxooooooxxxoooo Tile

[authorialarcanist]

Of Camps and Chakrams

Summary: When Colette's status as the Chosen of Regeneration requires that she stay behind while her class goes on a camping trip, Lloyd sneaks off to keep her company.

Written for Colloyd Week 2021 - Day 1: Childhood Friends.

Gen but kind of shippy.

---

Dusk was falling over Iselia.

The sun’s last orange rays played across the village, dappling the ground with criss-crosses of light and shadow wherever they slipped between the leaves of a tree.

The village was quieter than usual, today. Aside from the faint rustling of the wind, the only sound was an occasional greeting between neighbors on their ways home.

There was a reason for this: Tonight, Professor Sage had taken all of the village’s schoolchildren out to a nearby clearing in Iselia Forest - one far from the Human Ranch, of course - to go on a camping trip.

All of them, that is, except one.

While most of the parents in the village had come to trust in the eager young schoolteacher’s ability to take care of their children - especially after the day she’d dispatched an unlucky wolf that had snuck into the schoolyard with nothing but her staff - the priests of the Church of Martel were rather less lenient when it came to the safety of the Chosen.

Even with Colette standing next to the professor as she made her case, Colette’s eyes pleading silently, they’d refused to budge.

“We’re terribly sorry, but you know that far more than a single night’s outing is at stake here. It is our duty to ensure that the Chosen reaches her sixteenth birthday unharmed. Unfortunately, that means we cannot allow her out of the village until she receives the Oracle.”

And so it was that Colette came to be here, crouched in the yard behind her family’s house, tracing patterns with her finger in the grass and trying not to cry.

She knew why the priests had decided what they had. There were a thousand things that could go wrong out in the woods. There were monsters, falling trees, Desians who might choose to flout the Non-Aggression Treaty if it meant securing an extra generation of free reign. For the Chosen to risk herself, risk salvation of the world, simply for her own whims would be so terribly selfish that she starts to feel guilty for even wishing for it.

And yet…

She’d still wanted to go. She’d wanted it desperately; to roast apples over a campfire with the other children, laughing and playing... To watch the stars through the leafy canopy… To spend a night chatting merrily with her friends, Genis and Lloyd…

Her vision blurred as a splash of wetness dropped to the grass beneath her. No! She was the Chosen of Regeneration. The Chosen wasn’t supposed to cry over stupid, selfish things like a missed camping trip. If she cried, it should only be tears for the world; quiet, graceful tears at the atrocities of the Desians, before she reached the end of her journey and sealed them away once more.

She must not have been a very good Chosen.

“I’m sorry…” On an impulse, Colette apologized to thin air. Or maybe to the world at large; she wasn’t sure.

Suddenly, there were a voice and a crash from behind her. “Sorry for what? Woah!”

“Eep!” Who’s that? With a startled squeak, Colette jumped to her feet and spun around, losing her balance and collapsing from the sudden movement before she could catch a glimpse of the intruder. Once she managed to get her bearings again, she looked again, more slowly this time, and caught a glimpse of brown hair and a red coat lying face-down in the dust in front of the fence surrounding her house. “Lloyd?”

Her friend pushed himself up, grinning at her with dirt-smudged cheeks. “Hey, Colette,” he said, as though falling off of her fence was a perfectly reasonable occurrence.

Colette rushed over to him and crouched to try and help him up. “Lloyd, are you okay? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be off camping with everyone?”

“Heh!” Lloyd rubbed a finger under his nose, looking pleased with himself. “Don’t worry about that, I had Genis cover for me while I snuck away! The professor won’t have noticed I was gone until it was too late!”

“Ah, I see!” Colette nodded, assured by the explanation. “…Wait, hold on! Isn’t the Professor going to be angry tomorrow?”

“Ah… Well, sure, but…” Lloyd shook his head and spoke like it was the most matter-of-fact thing in the world. “It’s fine! I mean, if the priests aren’t gonna let you go with us, then it’s worth it to keep you company!”

A flush of happiness ran through Colette. Lloyd had really stayed back just for her? …And then it was drowned in a wave of guilt. Lloyd had really stayed back, just for her. “Oh… Lloyd, no! I - I’ll be fine here. You shouldn’t have given up the trip for me! I’m so sorry… This is my fault…”

“Don’t apologize, you dork!” Lloyd flicked her lightly in the forehead, causing her to stagger back a step from the surprise. “I came back here because I wanted to. And anyways, I’ve got a present for you, from Dad! Here!” He shoved his hand out towards Colette’s face, two wide, flat rings dangling around his wrist.

Colette cocked her head to the side and examined the rings. “Huh…? Oh! Lloyd, are these new bracelets? Umm, they look nice! But… aren’t they going to fall off of your arms if you’re not careful…?”

“That’s not it, silly!” Lloyd laughed. “Dad made them! I told him about how the people at the church wouldn’t let you go camping with us. He made these, for you to practice with!”

“Huh? Practice? Umm…” Colette scratched her head. “I don’t get it, could you explain this again?”

“Oh! Sorry!” Lloyd chuckled sheepishly. “He said these are called chakrams! They’re a sort of weapon you can defend yourself with! You can throw them at enemies, so the priests won’t even have to worry about you getting too close to any monsters!” He scratched his head with his free hand. “Or, uh… At least, you could if you had real ones. Dad said he made these ones blunt, so that you can practice without cutting anyone. Oh, but anyways! I figured, maybe if you learn how to use these, they’ll decide it’s safe to let you go out with us next time we go on a trip!”

“Lloyd…” Colette stood frozen for a moment, unsure of how to respond. She finally settled on throwing her arms around her friend. “Thank you so much! Oh, and Dirk, of course! Could you tell him thanks for me?”

“Ah—“ It was Lloyd’s turn to freeze up as Colette hugged him. Huh. His cheeks turned an oddly pretty shade of red. When Colette let go, he shook his head as though clearing it out before he responded. “Yeah! Of course, I’ll tell him!”

Colette glanced around. Nobody seemed to have noticed that Lloyd was here, yet. She knew she should probably send him home before he got caught, but… Well, it was really nice to have company! “Could you show me how to use those chakrams, then?”

“Right! Of course!” Lloyd grinned. “Watch and learn!” He pointed at a particularly sturdy-looking tree in the yard, grabbed one chakram in a clumsy fist… Adjusted his grip until he was holding it more loosely… “Um, Dad said you’re supposed to hold it like… this, I think? So that you don’t cut your palm on the blade 0f a real one…” and with a clumsy sideways motion, he hucked it forward. The ring wobbled slowly through the air, before skidding into the ground several feet away from the target.

Colette giggled.

“L-look, I’ve been teaching myself to fight with swords, okay? Chakrams are kinda new!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Colette shook her head, still grinning. “Umm… I guess I should try now?” She took the other chakram, tried to copy Lloyd’s grip, and tossed it sideways at the tree. Her disc flew more smoothly than Lloyd’s, but it still fell to the ground before it could reach the tree.

“Ehehe…” Lloyd glanced back and forth, not meeting Colette’s eyes.

“…I guess that’s why I have to practice, huh? Come on, let’s try again!” Colette ran ahead to gather the fallen chakrams, the camping trip all but forgotten. She tried a few more times as her friend watched from the side, experimenting with different ways of throwing the rings to try and find what felt natural. “Hmm… Hey, Lloyd?”

“Mhm?”

“You’re teaching yourself to use two swords at once, right?”

“Yeah!” Lloyd pumped his fist in the air. “I mean, double the swords means double the power, right?”

“I see!” Colette had never been accused of doing well in math, but the logic… seemedright…? “Then… I’ll try it like this, too!” She picked up the chakrams, holding one loosely in each hand. She widens her feet, slipping into the stance Lloyd had said felt best to him when he was practicing. “Let’s go… Hyah!” She turned around in a little spin to build momentum, before letting go of the chakram in her right hand and watching it sail gently through the air. This time, it soared a good ways without falling out of the sky. …A little too far, actually. The two children watched silently as the chakram missed the tree by a solid half a foot and kept going, slipping through a slat in the fence and vanishing into the night.

“…” Lloyd scratched his cheek.

“…” Colette’s face fell. “Oh, no! And it was your present, too… I’m sorry…”

“No! No, it’s okay, Colette! You don’t have to apologize, alright?” Lloyd waved his hands rapidly in front of himself.

“…Ah… Okay. I’m sorry.”

“Colette, what did I just tell you? You really need to stop saying sorry all the time!”

Colette chokes back her next sentence before she can apologize a third time. “…Still… I guess I can try and practice with just the one…? But… I don’t want to lose this one, too…”

“Hey, don’t worry!” Lloyd thumped his chest. “I can go track the lost one down and bring it back to you! Ah… Still, it’s probably for the best not to do that too much, huh. I wonder if there’s a way to make it come back to you when you throw it…?”

“Hmm, maybe! You could ask your dad?” Speaking of Dirk… Colette suddenly realized how dark it was. Night had well and truly fallen while she and Lloyd had been playing, and now the stars were visible above them. She called out to her friend, stopping him halfway to the fence. “Wait! Lloyd!”

“Huh? What is it, Colette?”

“Isn’t it late? Can you even get home like this?” Thinking about it… She knew that Iselia Forest was supposed to have monsters roaming it even during the day. How dangerous would it be without an adult around at night? She suddenly pictured Lloyd with a sprained ankle, waving a wooden sword ineffectually as glowing eyes slunk towards him through the darkness. She shivered and rushed over to her friend, grabbing his arm with both hands. “Oh no… What are we going to do…?”

“Ah…” Lloyd didn’t seem to have thought things over, either. He blinked, and grimaced. “Um… It-it’ll be okay! We just have to… uh…” His forehead wrinkled up as he thought, before he finally smacked a fist into his open palm. “I’ve got it! We can have a sleepover!”

“Huh?”

“Our own little camp-out, just the two of us! While I’m off looking for the chakram, you can go in and ask your dad for a blanket - say that you want to try camping out here, since you couldn’t go with the class! We can whip up a makeshift tent with that tree, and sleep in there!”

“Eh? But um… isn’t that lying? I… it’s bad to lie, isn’t it? There’s that vow you talk about, and everything…”

Lloyd flapped his hand dismissively. “Nah, don’t worry! You really did want to go camping, right?”

Colette gave a hesitant nod.

“So it’s not a lie, see? Everything you tell him will be the truth!”

“Ah… I guess that’s true…?”

“Alright, then! Go on in and ask him, Colette! I’ll be back with your chakram!” With an enthusiastic wave, Lloyd darted off and clambered over the fence.

“Um… umm…” Colette stood in place, wringing her hands until he was out of sight. She was still a little worried about what her dad would say…

…But Lloyd was counting on her. And, well… It sounded fun! After all, wasn’t this kind of why she’d wanted to be on the camping trip in the first place?

Steeling her nerves, Colette turned on her heel and ran back into her house.

———

“Honestly… Those kids…” Frank Brunel stood at the window of his house, looking out into the yard where his daughter and her friend thought they were being sneaky. He’d already noticed more noise coming from behind the house than usual, so when Colette had run in suddenly asking for permission to camp out back, he’d been pretty sure he knew what was going on.

Still…

He watched quietly as two small silhouettes point up at the sky, probably pointing out different stars to one another.

While he’d keep watch to make sure the children were safe, he hadn’t had the heart to catch them out. Colette’s energetic friends were good for her, he was sure of it. With the horrible burden they were all placing on his daughter’s shoulders, he knew that she deserved people who’d think of her happiness here and now.

Who were they, him and the other adults of the village, to selfishly ask so much of Colette and then deny her even these small pleasures while she still had time?

No. Perhaps he couldn’t convince the church to let her go with her friends, but at least he could stay silent when her friend came to her. It was the least he could do.

The least she deserved.

Satisfied that the children would be alright unsupervised for a minute, Frank slipped into the kitchen to make himself some coffee before settling down to keep an eye out.

If it meant Colette could play like a normal child for a little bit longer, what was one sleepless night?

[bonsaiiiiiii]

FabFiveFeb 2021 - Virgil week (2)

prompts: a question, “I don’t understand”

ok, here we are with part 2 of this lil ficlet! thanks to all the people that supported the first part, that you can find here. a special thank you to all the people that supported it recently, such as @nourelle-tracy, @louthestarspeaker, @gumnut-logic, @weirdburketeer, @janetm74, @lenna-z, @cg29 and many more that liked my fic! here’s the part 2 you’ve been waiting for!

^naturally, please read below^

Virgil woke up, massaging his forehead and eyes. There was a lot of light in there. He looked at the white above him, noting that that was definitely not the Tracy Island glass ceiling. He couldn’t even hear the voices of his brothers.

He tried to sit down, but the moment he touched the floor retracted his hand as if he had burned himself. It was cold, and...soft, and...white. He looked around, noticing an endless expanse of snow. A white sky and a snowy ground. He sat down, looking better around, and was able to see snowy trees, a cabin.. and an avalanche raging in his direction.

Frightened, he covered his head with his arms, his eyes shut and his breath unsteady, waiting for the impact. Nothing. He listened, and only at that moment he realized that there was no noise. That deafening noise of snow that he remembered well...all too well. He first opened an eye, then closed it, then opened them both, looking in the direction of the avalanche that was suspended in the air, still, motionless, with his hands still on his head. It looked like a tsunami wave, and the snow making dust all around looked like clouds. He took his arms off his head, holding them in front of him, then he stood up. Strangely it was all familiar to him.

"It won’t hurt you." a sweet, harmonious, but still faint voice, reached the ears of Virgil, who turned his head immediately in the direction of its source.

"Mom?" He stopped to look at that figure standing there, as if she had never died. She wore a white dress, looked like a cloud, or perhaps a Greek goddess, and a veil, attached to the woman’s ring fingers, fluttered all around that angelic figure, her black hair voluminous. She didn’t even look real to him.

"You shouldn’t be here." she said in a hurry, her serious expression, the pain visible behind her turquoise eyes.

"But..." Virgil approached slowly, step by step. "...what is this place?" Without noticing he was already in front of the woman.

"This is the place where you will wait."

"Wait for what? I don’t understand!" Virgil asked, and then he was silenced by a sudden sound. He instinctively watched the avalanche, which continued to remain suspended in the air.

'Entering...fibrillation...' Virgil heard a distant voice, a male voice. He could not connect it to any of his brothers. Then a monitor, like those in the hospital, made a horrible noise. The noise of a heart without a heartbeat. Then a deep bang. 'Again...' the voice again. Again the bang.

"You shouldn’t be here!" Lucille repeated. "You have to go back."

In a moment Virgil understood the situation. But..." No."

"But the others need you. Your brothers..."

"I’m sure Scott and John will get away with it. I want to be here with you."

"And your dad?"

"Dad will be the first one to get away without me. He’s building a space station with Brains." Still that empty noise, still that male voice. "I want to stay with you. You left too soon..."

"I know...but it’s not what you think, Virgil." Lucille gently placed her hands on his shoulder. Wait, was he ever that small? "Please, do it for me. I know you don’t want to, but come back, baby. Live your life for me too."

"But I’m only 15 years old. What great life can I live without you? You just left!" Virgil sobbed, trying to dry his face with his black sweatshirt.

"Don’t think about that. Just think about my voice. Close your eyes and listen to me, baby. Think about coming back to life. Promise me."

Virgil looked at her, her face clouded with tears. She smiled at him, nodding her head. He sighed, and then nodded in turn. "I promise. I will miss you..."

"I know...but don’t think about how I died anymore. Just think about the good memories we all had together." Lucille held her son in a long embrace. Her mother was so warm...it seemed that she had never died...

Virgil closed his eyes, and Lucille began to sing a sweet melody, her voice as beautiful as the notes of the piano he occasionally played after school.

The deafening noise disappeared, but the melody remained etched in his mind, as if his mother was still singing it. Now, instead of that fixed, empty noise, there was a sound...of beats. That meant he was alive, wasn’t it? So, if he had opened his eyes now...

And in fact he opened them, seeing only darkness before him. Then was this the world out there? So ugly and empty? He wanted to see beyond, but he realized he was being held by something. His mother’s voice was still echoing in his mind... He tried to wiggle himself out, almost immediately succeeding and noticing that what obscured his sight was nothing more than a female chest. The melody stopped being heard.

Virgil looked up, over him...and realized that his mother was looking back at him, the eyes of both widened in surprise.

"Mom...? You told me I was going back..." Virgil whispered, confused.

"Well..." Lucille was speechless. She expected his son to return safely to his body. She thought for a second, coming to the conclusion that... "If you’re here it means you’re not out of danger yet, but you’re alive! Your heart beats!" her hand shifted from his shoulder to his chest, raised in feeling her baby’s heartbeat. "Do you feel it?" She took his hand, making him carry it on his chest. She was moved.

Virgil smiled. "I feel it, Mom! But shouldn’t I have gone back?"

"Yes. It means you still have to wait a little while before you go home. But what matters is that you’re alive."

"Oh..."

"I’m sorry..." she said, removing a lock of hair from his forehead. The hair he inherited from her.

"Mom...I’m a little tired now..." Virgil found himself rubbing his eyes with one hand, and in Lucille’s eyes he still looked like a child. For her, even if the Virgil in front of her was that of his now 27 years old instead of his 15 years old self she would still see him as a child. Even if he was 80. If only she didn’t die so soon...

"Rest here, on my lap." Lucille said, sitting on the ground and lightly patting her knees. Virgil didn't want her to repeat it twice, lying down immediately, the snow that wet his pants even if he didn't really mind, as long as he was with his mother. He closed his eyes immediately...

...and reopened them shortly thereafter. Now, in that white sky that he expected to find once he opened his eyes, there was some ray of sun that seeped through the clouds and sparkled the snowflakes, as if it were raining glitter. He liked it. He was still in his mother’s lap, but she looked far...in the direction of the avalanche which was now sure to have been the cause of her death.

"I didn’t get too much sleep, did I?" he mumbled, his voice small.

Lucille turned her attention away from what she was looking at, looking down at her son. She narrowed her eyes for a moment, before smiling at him affectionately. "Nah...you only slept 10 years."

"Eh?" he exclaimed, leaping to the perch.

Lucille also stood up, patting away the snow from her dress. "I have to admit, that shirt doesn’t look bad on you." She added, and then took a step forward and took a flap of his shirt, inspecting the red-check lumberjack style and traveling with her eyes from the collar to the last button. She then took his shoulder, making him turn and looking better.

Virgil found himself blushing and stumbling on his own feet, embarrassed. He didn’t say anything, though, because when would something like that ever happen to him again? Sure, Grandma used to do that with all five of them every time one of them bought a new shirt, but if that gesture that came from his mother it meant something else entirely.

Lucille made him turn again so she could find his red face looking at hers. She gestured for him to lower himself, and he obeyed timidly. "Ah, I used to do your hair that way!" she exclaimed happily, removing some rebellious lock from his forehead and marveling at how much gel was on his head. "When you went to bed..." then she stopped.

"Continue..." Virgil implied, a silent pleading.

"When you were younger you always had your hair ruffled. You have so much of it, and yours is also very thick. When we used to take you to the barber, the cut he made only lasted as long as you got out of there. Look, bring some firewood to light the fireplace in, will you? You’ll catch a cold if you keep standing out here in the snow..." She diverted the speech, pointing to the wooden pile next to the cabin. That cabin that used to be their mountain house, and then got sold as soon as possible once they got back to the Ranch with one less person.

Virgil nodded, though he did not feel any cold. Lucille briefly entered the house, a small strip of smoke emerging from the chimney after a few minutes, a sign that the fire was lit. She came out shortly after. "I lit the sticks and bark; do not take too big wood, now is not needed. Anyway, I used to say that because of your thick hair no hairstyle fit you, and then I really liked seeing you with your hair on one side, like you do now." She continued to tell, raising her voice a little while Virgil picked out some thin sticks to carry inside. "You, on the other hand, had a time when you liked all of Scott’s hairstyles and copied them."

He chuckled in surprise. "Really?"

"Yes, yes! When Jeff took you to the family barber, you always wanted what Scott did too. You were 4, more or less. I remember one time when Scott had his hair dyed blue..."

He turned, wood in his hand. "Uhm?" Then he brought it in, while Lucille followed him closing the door behind him.

"You know those colored hair gels? The ones you wash off with a wash? Even if it wasn’t enough...we were damned to remove the blue spots that formed on your brother’s linings!" Lucille was very talkative, and she always had the gift of finding a topic to talk about; this feature was passed on to Gordon, but Alan was also a bit like her. Scott and John instead took after their father: less chatter, more actions. And Virgil...was a mixture of both.

"Yeah, I remember...he was seven or eight at the time." Virgil responded, carefully inserting the wood into the large stone fireplace to revive the fire.

"That’s it. Well, he did this once, and you liked his hair so much that you wanted to do it yourself, naturally green. So you and Jeff went to the barber, only that..." she stopped to smile, a very pleasant memory.

Virgil sat down to look at her, waiting for her to continue and trying to remember at the same time.

"When you came home, you were in tears. You clung to me crying and screaming that your hair wasn’t like mine anymore, and since that day, you haven’t listened to what Scott was doing, following your personal tastes a bit." Lucille sat down in front of the chimney, telling Virgil to approach her.

"I understand." he replied, crouching next to her, the wood crackling in the chimney. "Listen...I have a question."

"Only one?" she giggled.

"Well...no." He admitted smiling, to then get back serious.

"What do you want to know?"

"I really want to tell you so much..."

"From the start, baby."

"Do you miss Dad? Do you miss us?"

Lucille wasted no time answering. "Always." Then she sensed what Virgil wanted to ask her again. "I don’t regret having planned the holiday here."

Virgil looked at her, surprised but in a negative way. "No?"

"No. Never. I was glad to see you all having fun together. I’m just sorry things had to go this way." she stopped talking. "But you know what they say, don’t you? Historia magistra vitae. If it happened, it means it had to be this way."

Virgil nodded, not too convinced. "Anyway, I’m starting to remember...Dad isn’t there anymore either. He’s gone." His eyes got sadder and sadder.

Lucille remained silent, waiting for him to continue.

"I have to help my brothers. They're on their own, and without me...Scott might lose control."

"You saw that, too, didn’t you?"

"Yeah. He can’t do anything without me, the stupid. Not even to calm down."

Lucille smiled sweetly. "Maybe...but as long as you love him. You love them."

"How do I get back?"

"I don’t know how to answer that." Both were interrupted by a rather familiar voice.

"Speak of the devil..." Virgil said, listening to Scott’s voice, as silent as whenever one of his brothers got hurt. He was praying for Virgil.

(lol imagine not ending the chapter on a cliffhanger, can’t relate eheh. but worry not, here’s the 3 letters you were expecting!)

TBC

[litwitlady]

Alex sat in front of his fireplace trying to figure out what had gone so wrong. Not that Forrest had been wrong. No, Forrest had been the one bright spot in the weeks following his father's death. Caring and patient as Alex continued to work through the confusing and intense grief he felt about a man who had been a monster. But then he'd gone - a research project in Germany - and Alex was left with what remained of the emotions he hadn't yet confronted. The Michael shaped whole in his heart and that stupid song.

As the fire crackled, he worried the sheet music between his fingers. And not for the first time, the edges already wearing thin. The fraying corners curling in on themselves. For several nights now Alex had sat in front of this fire begging himself to toss the offensive pages into the flames. To let them burn, sweep away the ashes, and finally be done. Maybe then he wouldn't replay the moment he'd looked up to find Michael gone. Inexplicably vanished. Again and again. No, he never looked away until he did. Again and again. Again and again. Again and again.

Alex swallowed hard and leaned forward, the fire so close now. Just a bit further. But then a knock at the door. Sighing, he tossed the pages onto the hearth with a silent promise that tomorrow night he'd finally do it. He would, goddammit. He would. Another knock.

Michael Guerin was absolutely the last person he expected to see on his doorstep. But there he was - freshly washed curls blowing in the dusk wind, fingers nervously toying with the frayed edges of his henley. 'Hey, Alex.'

Alex just stared back at him. A million words crossed his mind but none seemed right. Two months of no contact and now this soft, simple hello. He hated how easily his heart raced at the sound of Michael's voice. How easily he'd forgotten to be angry at his walking out. He clenched his jaw and did his best to fake a semblance of annoyance. Anything other than the desperate desire that pooled in his gut. 'Guerin.'

Michael nodded his head toward his truck. 'Would you go for a ride with me? There's something I want to show you.' He gave Alex a small, hopeful smile rocking back on his heels waiting for an answer.

'Is something wrong?' Alex truly couldn't fathom what was happening. What Michael could possibly have to show him.

'Nothing's wrong. Promise. Just somewhere I should have taken you a long time ago.'

Alex battled with himself internally. He wanted to say no. To shut the door and go back to his fire. But some traitorous part of himself pushed him forward, closing the door behind him.

They spent the ride to wherever they were going silent but not unpleasantly so. They were driving into a gorgeous summer sunset, the windows down as one of Michael's old country cassettes played quietly in the background. High school memories of escaping to the desert flooded Alex with enough warmth to keep the cold edges of the looming chill of night at bay.

Eventually Michael pulled his truck off the side of the highway onto a stretch of desert that looked like every other stretch of desert Alex had ever seen. He cut the engine and motioned for Alex to follow him.

'You planning on murdering me and dumping my body in the nearest ravine, Guerin?' Alex eyed him warily.

Michael smiled and shook his head. He walked to where Alex noticed a stake in the ground a few feet off the road. 'There's another stake down near the mile marker.' He pointed off into the distance and Alex followed with his eyes barely able to make out the pink flag tied around the stake. 'And there's two more about 1000 ft back.'

Alex was deeply confused. 'Okay. It's a plot of dusty desert. What's so special about it?'

'I own it. Just shy of two acres. Pretty unremarkable. Scrubland that was originally supposed to be some industrial warehouse. But it's mine so.' Michael moved towards him, pulling something out of his back pocket.

Alex's confusion had only deepened. Michael laughed lightly and handed him a folded up piece of paper. 'This should help that look on your face.'

Unfolding the worn draft paper, Alex looked down on what could only be a rough outline of a house. 'I'm no architect, but it's not a very complicated design.' Alex studied the lines that eventually morphed into an open plan living room, kitchen, three bedrooms, and two bathrooms. He swallowed and glanced up at Michael. Questions still furrowing his brow. Words completely impossible.

'But this,' Michael continued, 'is the best part.' He excitedly pulled another nearly identical paper from his back pocket and handed it over. Alex looked down, again not understanding what he was looking at.

'This side is a workshop. It needs a little work now that I know the console is combustible but plenty of time for changes. And then over here is a music studio. Fully designed for recording.' The grin on Michael's face was almost infuriating.

'You want to record music? I never knew that.' Of all the questions he could have asked that one seemed the most ridiculously inadequate.

Michael sighed. 'It's not for me, Alex. It's for you. Thought that part was fairly obvious.'

Alex frowned. 'You want to build me a studio in your backyard?'

Michael shook his head softly at him. 'Not my backyard. Your backyard. Our backyard. Whatever you want. All of this is for you. I'm just hoping you'll let me stay.'

Alex felt his breath leave his body. His eyes scanned the dirt and scrub weed around him as Michael's words sank in. 'How long have you owned this, Michael?'

'Nine years. Land was cheap when everything crashed. I used every penny I'd ever saved or stolen to buy this and the airstream. The idea was to plant the trailer out here and build this place slowly, with my own hands. You'd just left on your second tour. I didn't want to spend every single second fixated on whether or not you were dead or dying. I needed to do something with my hands. But I had no money left and mostly ended up drinking myself into a stupor each night before packing up and heading back to Foster's Ranch. Over time I just sort of gave up on this place. Hadn't thought about it in years until your song that night at the Pony.'

It was maybe the most words Michael had ever said to him in one go. Alex's mind worked overtime trying to process what this all meant. What it could mean. 'I don't know what to say, Michael.'

'You don't have to say anything. I've been pushing you away for so long now. But I'm tired of lying. I bought this place because I thought if you had a home here - a real home - you'd come back to Roswell and stay. Air Force be damned. I was young and stupid. Hurt and insanely in love. And then, I just gave up entirely. We've hurt each other so much, Alex. I don't want to do that anymore. I want to come home. Here. Someplace else. I don't care. As long as you're there, I will be too.'

Alex swallowed hard and tried to reign in his emotions. But it was no use. He felt the burn of tears steak down his face before the force of his sobs shook his whole body. The words he'd never even dared to dream were finally his. Michael wrapped his arms around him tightly and Alex clutched at his sweater, trying desperately to grab hold of something solid and whole in this moment to make it real. To make it last. He faintly registered Michael whispering l love you over and over again into his hair as he rubbed soothing patterns across Alex's back.

When they'd both had several mintues to calm down and just breath in each other's presence, Alex pulled back and reached up to kiss Michael for the first time in way too long. It felt a lot like coming home. Finally.

[scary-lasagna]

Oof. Oh well. Tumblr seems to be drunk. But anyway, how about Ben, Toby, and Jeff's S/O coded a video game for them about how much they love them and how happy they are to have met them. Like, a little timeline of before they met to the present from the S/O's POV and how much happier they are. How would they react?

gosh im soRRy- Why the FUCK did i write so god damn much.

Ben

Your boyfriend unexpectedly tore his eyes away from Arma III to look at the notification with his crystal eyes.

'Download for NonSuspiciousGame.exe has been completed.'

His curiosity overcomes him, and he just has to check it out before you wake up from your nap from the bed behind him.

It's...just Majora's Mask.

It starts out as usual, and Ben just uses speedhacks to progress faster and look around.

But when he reaches the Romani Ranch, the graphics noticeably change, along with Link on screen.

When "Link" checks himself over, he turns back towards the camera with the noticeably familiar smirk that's usually plastered on Ben's face.

"Hiya! Welcome to Honey Ranch!"

You're about to start swinging at the sound of your own voice, still dazed from your nap.

But you realize Ben has found his way to your game, one that you put your heart and soul into.

And totally not ripping a few files to alter from Majora's mask.

"I just wanted to tell you how grateful I am that you're my dumb, loving boyfriend, and you really mean the entire world to me. Real or virtualized." Your character grinned from the screen, placing an innocent kiss on Ben's cheek.

"C'mon, feel free to look around."

The inside of the bar has a familiar layout to your house.

Each object that Ben interacts with pops up a little pixelized animation from an event with said object.

Such as a broken controller than Ben threw against a wall trying to chase you during your fitst meeting, or a vase covered with duct tape that the two of you broke from dancing together after your third date.

It's a timeline.

He's a little bit emotional and sets down the controller to stare at a picture of the both of you on the screen.

"I really like this game.." He mumbles before turning around towards your 'sleeping' figure.

He presses a soft kiss on your cheek, his bangs tickling your temple.

"I really like you too." You giggle, pulling his face back in reach and meeting his lips with your own. "You make me so happy, Ben. I really don' know what I'd do without you, even if you do break all of my dishes."

He'll be revisiting the game later with you by his side.

Toby

"It's not scary, is it?"

"Nah, it's not scary."

"Ok good, that means I don't have to mentally prepare myself."

Toby is always eager to test your games, no matter what genre they may be.

But the setting starts out in dark blues and blacks, with tall looming trees.

"baAaBe!!"

"It's NOt ScaRY!!"

After jumping at every little rustle in the tree branches and inspecting every single pebble on the path, Toby finally makes his way to the first save point.

"Omg this is that Slender game isn't it?"

"Toby- no, it's not. It's not a horror game."

"Then why does it look like one."

"You'll see, just keep playing."

A wide pair of orange eyes glint in the trees a few meters away from Toby.

"Omg."

"Go up to it."

Toby barely pressed the 'W' key as he approaches the being, finally spotting a lump on the ground. After inspecting the orange 'eyes' he finds that they're actually goggles.

"waIt THa't  sMe??? Omg how do I help me??"

"Idk man, what did I do?"

It takes a few moments, but Toby finds out how to drag himself back to the road, where the scene fades out and then back in front of a fireplace.

The same fireplace not even 6 feet away from the two of you.

He has to deal with some quick-time events as the camera slowly moves in to show Toby touching your cheek.

The expression on your avatar goes from worried, to bearing an ear-to-ear grin as the scenes progress.

The character idles in front of a Toby, sitting in the corner with his arms around his knees.

And the Toby in front of you seems to also idle, scanning the screen for...something.

"I love you."

"..I love you too, Tobs." You press a kiss to his hair, letting your arms slide around his shoulders. "I'm so happy I met you, I have no idea where'd I be if it wasn't for you crashing into my life."

"I know I'd be dead." Toby snickers, tilting his head back to look up at you. You could see a line of tears drifting along his waterline.

Toby plays it frequently and replays it for that matter.

If he ever tends to be missing you, that game is always his go-to. He reminisces about the memories you've had together and re-experiences them through this game.

Jeff

'"yOu mEAN I'M IN IT?!"

"YOU PUT ME IN??"

Jeff is so psyched that he's finally put into one of the games you made.

After desperately begging you for 24/7 since your last new release.

On his way sprinting to the desktop, Jeff trips over Smile and slides through the plaster wall.

It alarmed you, yes. But you were so pissed off that he had to do that after you finished the game. It would've made a great spot in the post-credits scenes.

"This just looks like your last game."

"Just play it."

"When do I show up?"

"J  e f f."

"lol ok."

It's an immaculate side scroller, showing a cute little [H/C] haired you that's nervously looking around the gray city buildings. You decided the textures would look better being realistic rather than pixelized like you originally thought.

The model you designed based off of yourself seemed pretty good in your opinion, and Jeff thought so too, using a few keywords to describe your physique that most people would find way too sexual to describe a clump of pixels.

"When do I show up?"

"Do you want me to shove your face through the computer screen?"

".."

The avatar bobbed along the sidewalk, occasionally rubbing their arm across their eyes to wipe away a stream of tears. The street looked familiar until he realized what the setting was based on.

It had to be of the night when you first met.

Sure enough, there's a splatter of crimson across one of the windows. Jeff recognized this, he remembered that exact kill, and the way you screamed at the sight of him chasing you down.

He didn't need any advice. You were in awe that Jeff remembered the exact route you had to take to escape him for the first time.

He felt a little self-conscious, seeing his looming shadow in the game creep closer to your small form.

But it was quickly erased when 'Dodge the burnt fucking eggs' flashed at the top of the screen, referencing back when he tried to cook you breakfast after taking you home.

He noticed with each minigame, your character gets more and more colorful.

And then the screen fades into Jeff sitting on the computer, with your avatar by his side.

On cue, you kiss his on the cheek the same time as the game.

He has to collect himself to keep from shedding a few tears. Cause let's be honest, all of those memories make him a little emotional.

"I love you lots." He mumbles, blinking a few times, well- to the best of his ability at least.

gosh im soRRy- Why the FUCK did i write so god damn much.

Ben

Your boyfriend unexpectedly tore his eyes away from Arma III to look at the notification with his crystal eyes.

'Download for NonSuspiciousGame.exe has been completed.'

His curiosity overcomes him, and he just has to check it out before you wake up from your nap from the bed behind him.

It's...just Majora's Mask.

It starts out as usual, and Ben just uses speedhacks to progress faster and look around.

But when he reaches the Romani Ranch, the graphics noticeably change, along with Link on screen.

When "Link" checks himself over, he turns back towards the camera with the noticeably familiar smirk that's usually plastered on Ben's face.

"Hiya! Welcome to Honey Ranch!"

You're about to start swinging at the sound of your own voice, still dazed from your nap.

But you realize Ben has found his way to your game, one that you put your heart and soul into.

And totally not ripping a few files to alter from Majora's mask.

"I just wanted to tell you how grateful I am that you're my dumb, loving boyfriend, and you really mean the entire world to me. Real or virtualized." Your character grinned from the screen, placing an innocent kiss on Ben's cheek.

"C'mon, feel free to look around."

The inside of the bar has a familiar layout to your house.

Each object that Ben interacts with pops up a little pixelized animation from an event with said object.

Such as a broken controller than Ben threw against a wall trying to chase you during your fitst meeting, or a vase covered with duct tape that the two of you broke from dancing together after your third date.

It's a timeline.

He's a little bit emotional and sets down the controller to stare at a picture of the both of you on the screen.

"I really like this game.." He mumbles before turning around towards your 'sleeping' figure.

He presses a soft kiss on your cheek, his bangs tickling your temple.

"I really like you too." You giggle, pulling his face back in reach and meeting his lips with your own. "You make me so happy, Ben. I really don' know what I'd do without you, even if you do break all of my dishes."

He'll be revisiting the game later with you by his side.

Toby

"It's not scary, is it?"

"Nah, it's not scary."

"Ok good, that means I don't have to mentally prepare myself."

Toby is always eager to test your games, no matter what genre they may be.

But the setting starts out in dark blues and blacks, with tall looming trees.

"baAaBe!!"

"It's NOt ScaRY!!"

After jumping at every little rustle in the tree branches and inspecting every single pebble on the path, Toby finally makes his way to the first save point.

"Omg this is that Slender game isn't it?"

"Toby- no, it's not. It's not a horror game."

"Then why does it look like one."

"You'll see, just keep playing."

A wide pair of orange eyes glint in the trees a few meters away from Toby.

"Omg."

"Go up to it."

Toby barely pressed the 'W' key as he approaches the being, finally spotting a lump on the ground. After inspecting the orange 'eyes' he finds that they're actually goggles.

"waIt THa't  sMe??? Omg how do I help me??"

"Idk man, what did I do?"

It takes a few moments, but Toby finds out how to drag himself back to the road, where the scene fades out and then back in front of a fireplace.

The same fireplace not even 6 feet away from the two of you.

He has to deal with some quick-time events as the camera slowly moves in to show Toby touching your cheek.

The expression on your avatar goes from worried, to bearing an ear-to-ear grin as the scenes progress.

The character idles in front of a Toby, sitting in the corner with his arms around his knees.

And the Toby in front of you seems to also idle, scanning the screen for...something.

"I love you."

"..I love you too, Tobs." You press a kiss to his hair, letting your arms slide around his shoulders. "I'm so happy I met you, I have no idea where'd I be if it wasn't for you crashing into my life."

"I know I'd be dead." Toby snickers, tilting his head back to look up at you. You could see a line of tears drifting along his waterline.

Toby plays it frequently and replays it for that matter.

If he ever tends to be missing you, that game is always his go-to. He reminisces about the memories you've had together and re-experiences them through this game.

Jeff

'"yOu mEAN I'M IN IT?!"

"YOU PUT ME IN??"

Jeff is so psyched that he's finally put into one of the games you made.

After desperately begging you for 24/7 since your last new release.

On his way sprinting to the desktop, Jeff trips over Smile and slides through the plaster wall.

It alarmed you, yes. But you were so pissed off that he had to do that after you finished the game. It would've made a great spot in the post-credits scenes.

"This just looks like your last game."

"Just play it."

"When do I show up?"

"J  e f f."

"lol ok."

It's an immaculate side scroller, showing a cute little [H/C] haired you that's nervously looking around the gray city buildings. You decided the textures would look better being realistic rather than pixelized like you originally thought.

The model you designed based off of yourself seemed pretty good in your opinion, and Jeff thought so too, using a few keywords to describe your physique that most people would find way too sexual to describe a clump of pixels.

"When do I show up?"

"Do you want me to shove your face through the computer screen?"

".."

The avatar bobbed along the sidewalk, occasionally rubbing their arm across their eyes to wipe away a stream of tears. The street looked familiar until he realized what the setting was based on.

It had to be of the night when you first met.

Sure enough, there's a splatter of crimson across one of the windows. Jeff recognized this, he remembered that exact kill, and the way you screamed at the sight of him chasing you down.

He didn't need any advice. You were in awe that Jeff remembered the exact route you had to take to escape him for the first time.

He felt a little self-conscious, seeing his looming shadow in the game creep closer to your small form.

But it was quickly erased when 'Dodge the burnt fucking eggs' flashed at the top of the screen, referencing back when he tried to cook you breakfast after taking you home.

He noticed with each minigame, your character gets more and more colorful.

And then the screen fades into Jeff sitting on the computer, with your avatar by his side.

On cue, you kiss his on the cheek the same time as the game.

He has to collect himself to keep from shedding a few tears. Cause let's be honest, all of those memories make him a little emotional.

"I love you lots." He mumbles, blinking a few times, well- to the best of his ability at least.

[feverinfeveroutfic]

chapter twenty-eight: “chuck, there’s a worm in your soup”

Sam hung up the phone and ran her fingers through her dark hair. She had waited until five days following the announcement in order to tell her parents about the accident as she had no other means to do so. She knew that they would not react to it well, even if she was thousands of miles away. Add to this, she never liked the idea of one of her parents being in an exorbitant amount of pain.

The tears in Ruben's voice and his telling Esmé what had happened: she bawled off in the background. She had invited them to the funeral over in the Bay Area, but he told her that they had too much to do with themselves.

“It's not really a funeral, though,” she clarified, “we're just scattering his ashes at Maxwell Ranch near Vacaville. But—I'll be out there this weekend, though.”

“Okay,” he had told her with a shuddered sigh, “be safe—I'm so sorry, sweetie.”

She poured herself a cup of coffee and, before she could pour in the cream, a knock on the door caught her attention. She padded into the living room, past the vase of yellow tulips, which still stood strong and high even well after Cliff had picked them out for her.

Aurora stood there before her with a glass square covered with a sheet of tin foil and a deep violet velvety sweater about her body.

“Hey, Aurora,” she greeted her, and she eyed the little square dish cradled in her hands. “Thank you. What's this?”

“Blondies courtesy of Emile,” she said in a low voice. “And I told him I'm going to have to spend a lot more time with you, though.”

“Thank you,” Sam repeated as Aurora handed her the blondies which then allowed her to put her arms around her best friend.

“I'm so sorry,” she whispered into her ear. Sam sighed through her nose and then she stepped back for a better look at the blondies: she took off the foil and she revealed the square of that soft yellow top, complete with bits of white chocolate mixed in.

“So when do we go back out to San Francisco?” she asked Aurora, who strode into the apartment.

“Friday, in two days—we leave the day of, too, real early. Jon gave me the week off, though. It's getting kind of stressful, you know?”

“Oh, yeah. I couldn't hardly focus in class this week so far. I'm glad we're leaving on Friday, too—I don't know how much more I can take it. I just want to get it over with.”

“Well, as you know, it's not a technical funeral,” she pointed out.

“Right, they brought him home over the weekend and then they had him cremated,” Sam recalled as she strode into the kitchen and she put the blondies in the fridge. “Ray and Jan said they want him scattered over Maxwell Ranch near Vacaville. I actually had to look that up because I didn't know where that was.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Sam surfaced from the kitchen to find Aurora had stuffed her hands into her sweater pockets. “By the way, what're Metallica gonna do now?”

“Look for a new bassist,” she replied with a shrug. “Even though they're on a different label now, I'm going to oversee it with them. Speaking of which—did you get a copy of their new album?”

“I haven't, no.”

“We'll have to do that when we go out there,” Aurora vowed, and Sam sighed through her nose again and she lowered her gaze to the floor. Aurora padded over to her with her arms wide open and she held her close: she lay her head against Sam's chest.

“I don't like seeing friends in pain,” she said in a muffled voice. “Especially if it's my best friend.” She lifted her head for a better look at her. “My parents endured a lot of it when they were back in Korea.”

“I can imagine,” Sam confessed with a break in her voice. Her eyes burned with tears again.

“They were almost separated at the demilitarized zone—the mines were activated and my father almost lost his legs to an explosion. Had my mother not held his hand and ran away from there with him, he would've been a goner and I wouldn't be here right now.”

Sam brushed away a tear as it burgeoned from her right eye.

“My father had a death wish then, too. He believed there was no way they could run away from Korea, especially the North. But they managed to escape. My mother and the grip of her hand saved him, from the line of fire and from himself.”

“If we were there in Sweden, Cliff would still be here,” Sam recalled those words from that night.

“I have no doubt about it.” Aurora lay the side of her head against her chest again and Sam closed her eyes to keep the tears at bay. She knew it was going to be a difficult weekend, especially when she still couldn't hardly focus in class the next day. She expected Cliff to be there on the sidewalk upon her emergence from the school building, but she took the subway alone, and with that hat rested upon the crown of her head. Every so often, she caught a whiff of the way his hair used to smell once she removed the hat. If only there was a way in which to preserve it for eternity.

She and Aurora left for the airport at four o'clock in the morning: any homework that she had would have to wait a few days because there were more pressing matters to tend to. She thought of Cliff during the whole flight: it didn't help matters that they were seated at the front of coach class as well, two rows behind first class. She sat there for the first hour of the flight with her arms folded across her chest, such that when Aurora woke up from her nap, she peered over at her with her tired eyes in a daze.

“Is everything alright?” she asked her.

“Just thinking,” Sam replied in a soft voice. “When we visited my parents, we sat near first class.”

“Oh, damn,” Aurora muttered and she cleared her throat.

“Yeah. We can't move, though.” She sighed through her nose yet again, and they landed San Francisco before the sun even rose there, right through that thick bank of fog from the Bay itself. They were greeted by Lars, who had showed up to the airport in a long black overcoat and a pair of black leather boots.

“I like this,” Aurora told him with a gesture all about his body. “I like this a lot.”

“Something a little a propos, dare I say,” he told her as he guided them out to his car.

“Thank you for picking us up, by the way,” she continued.

“There was no way I was going to let the two of you stay in a dingy hotel,” he said, but Sam tuned out their words. She gazed out the window to the thick dark fog as it blacked out the inlets: off in the distance, she noticed the dim lights of the Golden Gate Bridge. It almost didn't seem right, that Cliff had died in a place so far away and yet he was so staunch on staying in the Bay Area. He even put a bet on something that felt as far away as Sweden itself in order to be with her, which meant if it didn't happen, there was no way it would last.

And yet she couldn't stay angry at Cliff for that.

This was his home. This was where he needed to be, away from the darkness of Scandinavia and on his own soil. If it was to be long distance until she finished school, then she could make it happen. But that was the belief, and it had vanished into the blackness of the Bay fog as it greeted them outside in the dim parking lot.

Lars drove them to his small house up in Sausalito, and Sam wondered when Marla and Zelda would be there with Anthrax given she didn't see either of them on the plane. She even brought this up to him.

“They got here late last night,” he told her as he served her and Aurora fresh cups of coffee. “Well, Charlie and Marla did, anyways. He called me last night and said they had checked into their hotel at around eleven o'clock last night. No idea about the others, though.”

“Thank you, by the way,” she said to him as she took a sip of the coffee. Like a warm gentle hug from the inside. She thought about what he had told her in that room. Even though she couldn't hardly focus on class, she did however feel an itch to draw something in her journal, something outside of class. That time around, it was a mistake for her to not take her journal or any of her paper along with her. She thought about the ink drawings she had made the last October and she made a mental note to do it again at some point.

But by the time the ceremony came about, she knew there was no way she could focus on anything that needed to be drawn up on paper.

The fog had cleared out to pure blue sky but it straddled the Golden Gate Bridge as well as the inlet there before Maxwell Ranch. A small stretch of land fitted by a handful of lush green trees and a small building that made Sam think of a church given there was a small painting of Jesus next to the front door when they walked inside. Everyone had donned themselves in solid black: she peered across the room to find Legacy had showed up themselves, as did Exodus given she recognized Zetro's head of hair next to Chuck's long black smooth curls. Alex towered next Eric, Greg, and Louie, complete with a yarmulke on his head: that little gray sliver poked out over his forehead.

Meanwhile, five more unfamiliar men congregated at the far end of the room and they looked as though they had just come from a nearby high school.

“Nice to see Death Angel here,” Lars declared right next to her as he took off his sunglasses. “Kind of expected them to be, but it's always nice to see them, though. Armored Saint, too. And Metal Church. And Exodus and Legacy—everyone's here! Well, not everyone, I don't see Dave or Slayer.”

“Brought the whole Bay Area scene here with us,” Zelda's voice crackled from their left: she emerged from the corridor in a fitted black dress with white polka dots and a black silk bolero over her shoulders. Her short bob of black hair had been combed and styled back with a bit of gel.

Sam then felt a tap on her shoulder and she turned around only to be met with another head of black curls piled atop a round head and a slender body wrapped in black leather. His face had grown fuller with the extensive touring but she knew it was him by the soft brown tone to his skin alone.

“Hi, Joey,” she greeted him and he put his arms around her and he held her close to his slender little body.

“Remember if you need anything—absolutely anything at all—you can call me,” he told her, and he ran his fingers through his thick inky black curls. “I'll always be there, rain or shine, day or night, on tour or not. Call me regardless of the barrier.”

“Yeah, me and Marla, too,” Charlie joined in behind them, and he greeted her with an embrace as well, so did Frank, Dan, Scott, and of course Marla.

James and Kirk emerged from the corridor on the left, in black shirts and matching pants: the latter had a small black lace band around his upper arm. He gestured for Lars to join them there at the corner of the room. Sam, Aurora, and Zelda gathered on the wall adjacent to the door; Joey and Dan stood right behind them. The latter set a hand on Sam's shoulder to comfort her and she showed him a warm smile in return.

“Thank you, Danny,” she told him.

“We've got each other, you know,” he said with a wink. She returned her attention to that corner of the room, and she noticed a little gray urn in between James and Kirk. The room fell silent, even with Ray, Jan, and Connie not even being there. She wondered about them if they were doing alright with it all.

Joey rested his chin on her shoulder, and she caught a small whiff of his soft soapy cologne on the side of his neck. Oh, the smells. Cliff still riddled in her memory but she knew Joey would never be too far away from that point onward.

“Can't believe we're here right now,” Kirk started with a little break in his voice and his hands clasped together before his toned stomach. “I mean, if anything, we should still be over in Europe right now. But—here we are. Back home.”

“That bus sucked, though,” Lars added. “The beds were hard as a rock and they were uncomfortable. It was why Cliff and Kirk drew cards in the first place.”

“They were small, too,” James continued, “they were even small for you. And—you know, if it's small for Lars—you know it sucks.”

“As everyone might notice, Cliff's family couldn't make it,” Kirk said, “even being his biggest fans and everything. They just—they just couldn't do it. I mean, it's hard on the three of us, but they pretty much broke down, though. So—we have to act as his family.” He flashed Sam a small but sad smile and she could feel her eyes burning with tears yet again. She gazed out the window with Joey's chin still rested upon her shoulder. She tuned out their eulogies as she thought about Cliff's family. She pictured the three of them congregated in their living room together. They didn't have much, but they had each other.

She knew he and his older brother had been reunited somewhere beyond the window, somewhere beyond those low pale yellow hills, somewhere beyond the vast blue.

Somewhere beyond the veil.

She knew she had to pay attention because she was the grieving girlfriend but she couldn't. All she could think about were his parents and his sister.

“He was like 'we should just kill 'em all, man,'” Kirk pressed on and he brushed away a tear from his eye. “And the bunch of us were like, hey, let's make that our album name!”

She had to get her hands on that album that Aurora had told her about. If she had to go to a nearby record shop for a copy, then she could do it for herself.

“Sam?”

Lars' high pitched voice caught her offguard. She glanced over at his holding the urn in both hands.

“Would you like the final word before we release him to the earth?” he asked her, and she nodded her head. Frank set a hand on her shoulder and she could tell that he held back the tears, even as she ambled up to the corner of the room. She held the pale cold urn in her hands, about the size of a coffee mug.

He was in there. She had to set him free. She had to let him go.

Her bottom lip trembled as she brought the stone closer to her face. She closed her eyes.

“I love you,” she whispered into the crack between the urn itself and the lid. Kirk set a hand on her upper back and leaned in closer to her. She then handed James the urn to do the duty.

He led them outside to the cool crisp October afternoon, around the building to a stretch of flat field lined with tall scraggly dark trees. Two evergreens stood near the back door, and she wondered if that was the reception area. She spotted two large black speakers near there and she wondered what was about to happen once James let the ashes fly.

“Alright, Lars,” he called out to his left. They all congregated there under the cold sun and a gentle breeze from the ocean made them all huddle together like a bunch of penguins. Lars knelt down before one of the speakers and he pushed a button. Against the wind, Sam could hear music.

The hard, rising riffs emerged from the speakers from complete silence: it made her think of the depths of space, or the depths of the ocean behind her.

“This was his favorite,” Kirk told her in a low voice, “from our new album. It's called 'Orion'.” She thought of the little indent on Cliff's hip, which made her think of a true belt. And with that, Joey put his arm around her again. Sam watched James hold up the urn, and he turned away from the winds. When the music picked up, he unscrewed the lid and he tilted the urn on its side. Some of Cliff's ashes billowed out in a cloud against the wind and towards the field.

He became part of the earth yet again. Orion's belt.

Sam bowed her head but she couldn't bring herself to cry. Joey rubbed his hand upon her shoulder.

It was a long song, one that included a small section where Cliff's bass stood alone, and another plume of ashes billowed out in light wisps. It made her think of fire flies, or fairy dust, especially when Chuck muttered, “ashes to ashes, dust to dust—until we meet again, Cliff” right behind her.

It faded out as James gave the urn one last shake and the rest of the ashes scattered about the earth before him with the wind. He lowered the urn and screwed the lid back on, and bowed his head. Lars ambled over to him as he brought a hand to his face.

Some soft acoustic guitar played out right then.

“'Fight Fire with Fire'!” Zelda declared from Sam and Aurora's right. “I love this song!”

“This was Cliff's last song,” Kirk told her. “The very last song he played.” She brought a hand to her chest and her face softened. That was the softest Sam ever saw Zelda, given she was always in such a punk rock mood and a mood for trouble.

“Alright, who wants lunch?” Lars called out as he let go of James.

They all doubled back inside, through that back door into a vast rec room that smelled as though it was just cleaned. Sam and Aurora took their seats at a table on the far side of the room, and Lars joined the two of them with a pair of plates absolutely full with potatoes au gratin, baked ham, and steamed vegetables.

“There's a big quiche Lorraine and some pho over there, if you'd like, Aurora,” he said as he took his seat next to Sam and he handed her the plate in his right hand. “Both courtesy of our friends in Death Angel.”

“Oh, thank you!” said Sam. With a little nod, Aurora climbed to her feet right then, and the two of them were left alone. Lars handed Sam a fork.

“So what happens now?” he asked her with a grave look on his round face.

“Don't know,” she confessed as she dug into the potatoes. “I go back to New York and continue being the artist.”

“You know how Joey and Charlie both said to call them if you needed anything?” His green eyes wandered over to the neighboring table, and she spotted Charlie, Frank, and Scott clustered together with their backs to them. Scott burst out laughing about something: Sam spotted a comic book plunked in front of Charlie. Of course!

“Yeah,” she replied.

“Well, I extend that to myself,” Lars told her, “especially if it has to do with art.”

“That's right, you're the art guy.”

“I can perhaps help you out if you wish,” he quipped with a raise of an eyebrow, and he picked up a potato medallion.

“Aw, that's so sweet!” And then she had an idea. “Would you like something from me?”

“Would I like something from you—yes, please!”

“It can be totally on me, too.”

“Oh, no, I don't want to do that to you, Sam,” he said as he brought a forkful of broccoli up to his little lips.

“No, I insist!” she said with her mouth full. She swallowed before she spoke again. “What would you like? What medium would you like?”

“What do you feel most comfortable with?”

“Ink.”

“Ink! Like—black ink?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” He paused. “I don't believe I have a photograph of my parents with me, but I do have one at home, though. You might find it interesting when we get back there...” His voice trailed off and the two of them ate in silence, given Aurora had taken a bowl of soup for herself and found herself distracted by the men of Exodus as well as Zelda on the other side of the room. Sam lifted her head at one point and she watched Zelda pick something up from the floor. She turned to her right, away from them, and she raised it over her head, clenched inside of her fist.

Charlie muttered something about the comic book store there in San Francisco being expensive, but he was interrupted by Zelda's strident shout.

“Hey, Louie! Catch!”

Louie's smooth head of hair emerged on the side of the room, about ten feet from Sam and Lars' table, and he extended his hands out before him. Zelda threw the thing at him, a glimmer of silver across the room. The guys from Legacy cheered out when he caught it.

“What even was that?” Lars asked Sam.

“Looked like a spoon.”

“A spoon or a knife. What better place to play 'catch the knife'!” And Sam burst out laughing at that.

She and Lars both helped themselves to seconds, as well as plates full of desserts, a slice of cake, a blondie, and a handful of cookies. She was amazed by how much she had eaten right there, but then again, she had put on a bit of weight over the course of that year and she needed to move on from Cliff. It was time to tend to herself, and to nourish herself, even if it meant eating a great deal.

“Chuck, there's a worm in your soup,” she overheard Zelda say, and it made Scott almost fall out of his chair from laughing so hard. Frank caught him and Louie clapped his hands with laughter; she turned to Lars, who picked at his teeth.

“Have you seen where Joey went?” she asked him.

“I was just gonna ask you that,” he admitted. He turned his attention to the other side of the room. James and Kirk sat with Aurora and Marla and they had their backs towards them. There was something else about that otherwise joyful room. Something else missing, and it didn't help matters that he knitted his eyebrows at it, either.

“I'm going to sit with Alex for a second,” Lars told her.

“Where is he?”

“Right over there.” She followed his point to the door on the other side of the room, and Alex had taken his seat outside on the step. All she could see was that thick blanket of jet black curls at the back of his head: some of them sprawled down his shoulders and his upper back. He had moved the yarmulke more on top of his head but it still stood strong and high like a crown.

“Just going to check on him, you know?” She nodded her head and Lars stood to his feet with his free hand on his stomach. He strode across the floor and slipped his plate into the trash can next to the wall. He then stood next to Alex, who then lifted his head and gazed up at him. Lars said something, but Chuck and Zelda bickering about something drowned him out. Alex nodded his head and Lars took a seat next to him on the step.

Sam peered behind her to another door. Perhaps it was from merely all the food she had eaten, but that room felt so much warmer than when they first arrived there. She slid out of the chair with her empty plate in her left hand. She adjusted the band of her dress slacks and she walked out through the other door, to the clear and crisp afternoon that awaited her. The sun hung high in the school still, despite it being fall. The air was so fresh and the sky was so blue. For a split second, she missed California right there, but she knew her life was back in New York City. She stuck the plate in another trash can next to the door and, careful not to upset her stomach, she walked at a slow pace around the side of the building.

She caught the sound of Lars' laughter on the other side, near those evergreen trees. Alex's big striking voice followed. She rounded the corner and there the two of them were on the step, with the sunshine on their heads.

“Not really how I wanted to celebrate my eighteenth birthday,” Alex was confessing, and he gave Lars a shrug of his slender shoulders. Those loose tendrils near the base of his head brushed against his shirt. He turned his head into her direction and the cold sun shone upon the side of his face: it accentuated his aquiline nose and the round soft shape of his face. Sam thought about one of the dreams she had had about the mysterious man with the streak in his hair, the one with the plane crash and the fire. Maybe it was the way in which his face was shaped, how he looked a little rounder from the last time she saw him over Christmas, but she couldn't help but think of that man.

Those deep eyes wandered into her direction. Deep and cold. Lars followed his gaze in her direction and he grinned at her.

“Samantha!” he called to her with his arm extended out for her, and Alex raised his eyebrows.

“Samantha?”

“Yeah. Cliff's girlfriend.”

Alex hesitated, and then his face lit up.

“Oh, Samantha!” He wagged his finger at that. “I remember now. I made that thing for you by Cliff's request!”

She fetched up a sigh and she ambled closer to them with her arms behind her back; she lingered right next to Lars. He adjusted the yarmulke on the crown of his head. She swore she had seen him a few times in New York City, off in the background, and he seemed like such a shadow to her all the while. But here he sat before her, wrapped in that little black velvet jacket, and with that little yarmulke upon his head as well. He looked as though he needed to attend a bar mitzvah rather than a funeral.

“How do you like that, by the way?” he asked her, and she never realized how soft spoken he was until he spoke to her up close and personal like that.

“I love it to death,” she told him as the tears welled up again. “I put it in a safe place so the graphite doesn't fade away.”

“That's good.” And she brushed a tear away from her eye. Lars caressed her hand and Alex showed her a small smile but it also looked like he wasn't smiling at all. He took the yarmulke off of his head and he shook it about: the little sliver of gray over his forehead shone in the hazy sunlight so it actually resembled to a little pearl. She was so close to that little sliver, such that she couldn't stop looking at it. Lars turned his head in his direction.

“So you were talking to Greg a little bit ago?” he asked Alex. “You guys' Greg?”

“Oh, yeah—I was talking to him and he told me he might audition for Cliff's position.”

“Hope he can get it,” Sam blurted out. “I think he'd kick ass with that position.”

“Yeah, but also understand we'd need a new bassist if he got the part, though,” Alex pointed out with a blank expression on his face.

“He can pull double duties, though,” Lars quipped. “Ronnie James Dio did it. I can envision Greg putting his horns down and going crazy with it.”

“You're just saying that 'cause I do that,” Alex scoffed.

“You're quite the worker bee, Alex,” Lars assured him, and he shrugged in response to that. Sam frowned at his body language. “You are, though!”

“I got out of school by the skin of my teeth, though,” he declared.

“Hey, at least you graduated. I practically dropped out to become a tennis player.”

“Yeah, and I had to take a break for a little bit afterwards,” Sam joined in. Alex stared up at her: those deep eyes swallowed her whole. He seemed so much colder than she had imagined, and so much more distant in comparison to when Cliff got that rice paper from him over Christmas. She figured it was because Cliff himself was gone.

“I still wanna be the best, though,” he told them in a low voice. “I knew from the very second I picked up a guitar when I was eight years old that it was for me. My brother told me to run with it once I got out of school.”

“Playing since you were eight?” Sam was stunned by that.

“Yeah, but my parents were rather reticent towards it, though. My parents are older than that of my friends so—they don't really understand it.”

He never smiled once, such that it made her squirm in that spot next to Lars. She knew it wasn't from the loss; as cool as a cucumber and those deep eyes seemed to stare right into her foggy mind.

“Complete diametric opposite of Cliff's parents,” Lars remarked, and the sound of Cliff's name made the tears well up again.

“Hey, little man!” James called from inside the reception hall, and Alex scoffed at the sound of that. But he turned around and clutched onto the yarmulke as if it was about to get away from him. Sam leaned forward for a look at Kirk and the slice of birthday cake cradled in his hands. Zetro stood next to him with a lighter in hand.

“Oh,” he breathed out with a raise of his eyebrows.

“I see a candle,” Lars told him; Zetro left a tiny flicker of a flame on the little blue candle on top of the layer of white frosting.

“I do, too—happy birthday,” Sam said with a sniffle.

“Thank you.” Alex showed her another small smile. Those deep eyes resembled to the sliver of ocean near there. He was cold, much colder than what she remembered from that show over Christmas break. Maybe it was his being so young and already having a band around him that made him mature with such haste, but the whole feeling made her grimace a bit, especially when he doubled back into the building for the cake. Kirk gazed on at her and gestured to the cake, and she shook her head. He pouted and cocked his head to the side as if she upset him.

“Maybe later,” she mouthed to him as she patted her stomach, and he nodded at that.

“Me, too,” said Lars, “so unlike me, though. I’m like you, I like to eat.” And she watched them all congregate around Alex, the birthday boy, like one big family. Cliff had omitted so much from her. Maybe he really was that out of touch with the rest of them, more so than he had originally told her. And she knew from that point on out that Zelda was right. They needed to act in order to be a bigger part of the whole community.

He would have wanted her to move on. In the brief pocket of time in which they knew each other, she knew that he would have wanted her to. And if it meant she had to be more forth going like with Kirk there, then she would do it for him. She would do it for him in her words, and her art as well.

[katehuntington]

Title: Ride With Me (part seventeen) Fandom: Supernatural Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: ±4700 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family.  Summary part seventeen: Unable to sleep, Y/N goes over last night’s events, until she gets an unexpected visitor. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: ‘After My Heart + Can’t Help Falling In Love’ - John Michael Howell. Follow ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Please listen to this song during the scene, it’s so worth it! Author’s note: I’m excited for this one, y’all! Thank you @kittenofdoomage, @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish and @winchest09 for helping me. You girls are awesome betas and friends.

Ride With Me Masterlist

     The bunkhouse is silent after a festive night. All the lights out, except for the one on Y/N’s bedside table. Sleep might have come limited the past week, but she isn’t ready to close her eyes just yet. The adventurous trail, combined with the unexpected news about her qualification has her riled up with excitement. 

     Not sure what to do with this new found energy, she has taken out one of her notebooks, which is filled with scrabbles. She won State Championships with a relatively simple floorplan, not wanting to overshoot, but if she wants to leave an impression with the judges at Congress, she needs to step up her game. Combinations between exercises will push up her degree of difficulty, so she decided to change a few lines. Working on her freestyle tonight wasn’t entirely according to plan, but who knows, maybe the tequila and beer will add some creativity.

     She has changed into a comfortable tank top and a pair of shorts, the soft fabric a contrast to the sandy denim she’s been clad in the past days. The temperature is comfortably warm, early October in Arizona much more like summer compared to the autumn days she’s used to in Maine.

     Strangely, she hasn’t been homesick for Freeport at all. She misses her mom and dad, her brothers, but after her time living on campus, she’s used to being away from family. Her father travels a lot for work, and Jaime, her older brother by three years, moved to the other side of the country straight out of the Police Academy, fighting crime in Los Angeles these days. Middle kid Jackson bought a house in Boston and is busy with his real estate firm, while her oldest brother, Jeff and his wife are expecting their first child. Y/N wouldn’t say they have grown apart, but now that she and her siblings don’t share a house anymore, things have changed. They’ve spread their wings, built a life for themselves.

     She checks her phone when a message from Jaime pops up, sending her a selfie in which he shows off his muscles, holding up a fist. ‘Show them what you’re made of! You’re gonna ace that ride!’ he added in the caption. She closes the text, scrolling down the list of messages from family and friends, until she finds one from Jeffrey, which is a little more lengthy. ‘Mom said I had to wait until Dad reached you, so I hope you got the news by now, otherwise I’m in trouble. Congratulations, Sis. You worked so hard for this. I’m really proud of you, and I know Grandpa will be cheering you on from above. You’re already a champion.’ She smiles at the sweet words; she should really give him a call next week.

     Redirecting her attention to the notebook in her lap, she picks up her pen, sketches a new line, crosses it and bites on the pen cap, pondering. Marcel, her trainer at the Freeport Equestrian Center, helped her with the first version. She could get in touch with him tomorrow, she’s sure he will be willing to shed a light on what she has so far. Distance will be an issue, though, and with time being of the essence since it’s only fifteen days before they head towards Columbus, Ohio, where Congress is held, she has to take a different approach.

     What if she asks Dean to help her with the freestyle, or even to come with her to the show? He has helped her a couple of times during training and she appreciates his approach. His suggestions and tips paid off; his methods really seemed to work for both her and Meadow. The head wrangler knows Y/N and her horse well enough to offer advice in bringing out their best qualities, she just hopes he’s up for it. After some drinks, Dean didn’t stick around long. When she asked Jo where he went, she said Dean offered to do the final feeding round. Y/N thought about following him, but didn’t want to draw attention from the rest of the crew; them both gone would’ve raised suspicion and she doesn’t want to put him in the spot of having to explain himself.

     When Y/N noticed his absence, her stomach made an unpleasant flip. The uneasy sensation remained the rest of the evening, not evident, but brewing nonetheless, and it had nothing to do with the alcohol. She wonders if something has changed, maybe. That coming home to the ranch caused Dean to reconsider. Why else would he distance himself?

     Doubtful, she takes a breath, her mind going places she’d rather not be. Still missing a steady foundation for them to start building a relationship on, doubt surfaces again. Deep down she’s scared that the cowboy might back out, which would cause heartbreak she’s not sure she can handle. She cares too much already, she’s too far gone. Y/N is passing the station of just being in love with Dean; it’s growing into something even more.

     Before her thoughts can spiral further, there’s a soft knock on the door. The kind that is soft enough to not wake her had she been sleeping, but loud enough for her to hear if she wasn’t. She slides out of bed, rises to her bare feet, careful not to bump her head against the top bunk like she has so many times already, and crosses her room. When she opens the door, she finds the man who has been on her mind on the other side, locking his green eyes on her. She’s pleasantly surprised to see him with it being past 11 PM already; she expected him to be in bed long ago after the exhausting past few days.      “Hey, what are you doing u--”

     He doesn’t let her finish and bridges the few feet between them, cupping her face with both hands and pulling her into a kiss. After the initial shock, which only lasts a fraction of a second, he can feel her lashes brush against his skin as she closes her eyes and melts into him, allowing him to deepen the connection. Her response takes away the restlessness that weighed on his chest like a chunk of concrete, ever since the thought of her leaving arose.

     They step into her room far enough for Dean to kick the door shut, preventing possible eavesdroppers from tuning in, his mouth never leaving hers. Instinctively, her arms snake around his torso, tracing the lines of his strong back through the fabric of his shirt. There’s a desperation in his touch that’s new to her, the way he longs for this connection is different. Eventually, he breaks the kiss and she studies him when he rests his forehead against hers. His eyes stay closed for a little longer, holding on to the moment while his hands slip from her face. 

     He didn’t want to steal a few seconds while surrounded by the crew, he didn’t want to get in line to give her a quick hug or a peck on the cheek. No, he needed to be with her, just the two of them without restrictions.

     “What was that for?” she wonders.      “Just wanted to congratulate you.” He smiles, trying to mask his concern, and sweetly presses his lips on hers again. “Personally.” And again. “Privately.” And again.      She giggles, triggering him to chuckle as well. He moves his head back to take her in.      “Congratulations, Yankee,” he says, genuine. “You earned it.”      “Thank you,” she smiles, still slightly confused. “Where’d you go earlier?”      “Someone had to feed those poor starving animals,” he jokes. “And since Bobby already had a few whiskies, and Garth is an absolute light weight, I took one for the team.”

     He was quick to take the final feeding round, not just because he was the last man standing. Doing one last check, giving the horses their hay for the night, making sure the stables are shut properly, locking up the tackroom and the cafeteria and eventually the large barn doors after switching off the lights; it offers him peace of mind. It’s a daily routine, a recurring series of actions, done so 365 days a year. Ensuring everything is exactly the way it’s supposed to be in the place where he lives and works, grounds him when he’s feeling restless. It gives him a moment alone, the horses his only company, allowing him to think things over and collect himself again. Tonight was no different, because even though he was relieved Y/N’s father wasn’t the bearer of bad news, Dean felt disturbed with his initial response. For a good few minutes, he thought he was going to lose her, and the anxiety it surfaced was much more intense than he anticipated.

     Y/N keeps watching him as the cowboy is lost in thought. He’s trying to be funny and cute, but that’s not all there is to it; his eyes tell a different story. He kissed her a little too fierce, pulled her in a little too tight. Something is bothering him, and although she doesn’t want to force him to talk, she needs to know what it is before she loses her mind herself.      “What’s wrong, Dean?” she asks, softly, moving her hands up his chest.      “It’s nothin’,” he assures, shaking his head.

     But when the concern remains evident in her expression, he sighs. He doesn’t want her to worry, or think it’s something she’s done. If anything, she’s been absolutely perfect. God, she’s so patient. Even though she needs him, she offers him space. Expressing how he feels might be terrifying, it’s about time he’s fair with the woman who’s willing to wait.      “It’s just that, uh - when your dad called, he… he sounded pretty serious,” Dean admits, looking down. “I thought something might have happened with your folks or somethin’, and that you...”      He pauses, struggling, but Y/N knows enough.      “You thought Dad was going to tell me to come back,” she realizes.

     Suddenly his behavior makes so much more sense. His complete change of demeanor when he approached her table in the saloon after receiving the call, him seeming as nervous as she was when she picked up the phone. The sigh of relief when she told him and Jo the great news, his disappearance from the celebration at the saloon. Dean thought he was going to lose her, and apparently it scared him. Y/N is as stunned by the realization, as she is by the confirming nod he gives her.

     “Well - I mean - it could’ve been, right?” he says, shrugging his shoulders almost apologetically, like he’s not allowed to be worried about a presumption as such.      “I’m twenty-four, Dean. I’m not going anywhere unless I want to,” she reminds him, hoping to offer him some consolation.      “Glad to hear it,” he responds, his hands moving to her waist as he restores eye contact. “‘cause I’d hate to see you go.”

     Heartfelt, the beautiful girl in his arms smiles. She seems to understand the weight of his words, because she crosses her wrists behind his head and urges him to come closer. Dean’s heart swells in his chest when she brushes her lips against his, tentatively at first. His mind calms, the nerves subsiding. Not only is she staying, she also understands what’s going on in his head, and in a strange and unexpected way, it’s kind of liberating. Not having to pretend and put on a mask, not having to convince anyone that everything is fine. He’s gotten so used to telling people he’s okay, the words to express himself prove to be hard to grasp. Who knows, maybe one day he’ll get the hang of it.

     Dean’s mind goes blank when she deepens the kiss, swiping her tongue against his bottom lip. Her arms close around his neck a little tighter, holding him so close he can feel the warmth coming from her skin. She smells amazing, the scent of her shampoo still lingering in her hair, a sweet smell of a flower he can’t name. He presses his fingertips into her flesh, carefully shifting them under the hem of her tank top, even though he knows very well that he shouldn’t. It isn’t going to take long before he will not be able to stop himself.

     She feels him trace her sides, rolling up the fabric of her top as he does so. Normally she would be self-conscious about it, but when she parts from him when running out of air, all she sees in his eyes is adoration and want. Both seem to be waiting for each other, unsure if they should take this further. Afterall, considering what they agreed on, this would be a poor execution of taking things slow.

     Without breaking away from her gaze, his left hand travels down, following the curves of her hips. He adds pressure, gently pulling her against him. What she feels through the denim of his jeans has her eyes grow wide. A delightful tension starts to tangle up in her stomach, sinking deeper. Somewhat surprised that she apparently has this effect on him, she takes in a shuddering breath, gazing deep into his eyes. God, she wants to go there, but is he willing to as well?      “Are you sure?” she checks with him.      Dean doesn’t have to think twice and nods. To hell with it, he’s not going to waste another second.      “I want you,” he breathes, his voice husky.

     It’s all she’s ever wanted to hear him say. It might not be the confirmation of their relationship she’s been hoping to get eventually; it’s better. He wants her. He wants her.

     Free from restraints, she crashes her lips to his and Dean doesn’t hesitate to return the kiss with the same need. All the question marks, the doubt, the thoughts along the line of ‘what if it goes wrong?’ and ‘maybe we shouldn’t do this’ go right out the window.      It wouldn’t matter if they waited longer, because if that wake up call taught the cowboy anything, it’s that together or not, it would tear him to pieces if she were ever to leave the ranch. If he’s going to spend this time with her, he better make it worth her while, and maybe, just maybe, she’ll stay with him in the end.

     Eventually, his mouth leaves hers and begins to descend, his breath tickling her skin as he ghosts down her neck. Willingly, she rolls her head to her shoulder, offering him space to leave marks on her pulse point, then down her collarbone. The hint of delicious pain has her fighting back a moan, which proves to be challenging, especially when his hands roam down to cover her peach-shaped behind. Trying to distract herself and be useful at the same time, she begins to unbutton his plaid shirt, his touch momentarily interrupted until the piece of clothing falls to the floor in a puddle of blue, soon followed by his white undershirt.

     Before Dean urges her closer again, he drags the only chair in the room away from the small table by the window, sitting down and pulling her with him. The wood underneath them creaks when she settles in his lap, her bare knees on either side of the cowboy, holding herself up and leaning into his bare chest. The denim of his jeans stretches over his erection, rubbing against her core. The sheer thought of a few layers of fabric being the only barrier between him and her, sends a surge of heat to dampen her panties. Thank God she chose the lace ones earlier after her shower, the ones she can only wear whenever she’s not spending her day in the saddle. She wonders if he can tell how aroused she is already.

     Dean can. He can feel the warmth radiating towards him and he can feel himself growing even harder, too. His breath hitches and he stifles a groan when she rolls her hips, burying his face in the crook of her neck. Ho-ly shit. This might not be how he originally imagined their first time, in this tiny room with thin walls, this one chair and a bunk bed, but it feels so good. He has enveloped her in his arms, his hands roam her body, not leaving a square inch unattended. Without tearing the seams, he pulls the strap of her loosely fitted tank top over one shoulder, the material shifting down. His fingers then reposition to cup her breast, all while he presses kisses on top. When he moves his thumb over her stiff nipple, she pulls in an audible gasp.      “Sssh…” he hushes. “Wouldn’t want to wake the neighbors.”

     Y/N can’t help it, though. The friction she feels beneath her, combined with the touch of his mouth and his fingertips, is already beginning to build her up. She begins to pant, her lungs pushing out air in quivers. Dean doesn’t stop, however, and continues to knead her breast without hurting her, smothering the sounds she makes with another breathtaking kiss. His other hand has snaked around her waist again, splayed on the small of her back now, spurring her on to move against him. Good God, if he keeps this up, she might come undone without him even actually touching her down there.

     The chair creaks louder when she moves against him, triggering Dean to cringe. The old furniture is either going to break or wake everyone in the bunkhouse, and so he pulls Y/N flush against him and stands up. Without missing a beat or breaking the kiss, she folds her legs around his waist as he walks her to the bed. Laying her down and fitting himself on top turns out to be a little more difficult than he thought it would be, the bunk bed limiting his space, but after some shimmying, he manages.

      He hovers over the woman he’s about to be intimate with, mesmerized by the sight of her laying underneath him, her chest heaving, her eyes lustful. She’s the definition of gorgeous without even trying. Dude, how the hell did you manage to hold back this long?

     The trail of kisses he presses on her stomach has Y/N arching her back, her eyes closed in delight as he travels down. Gently, he opens her legs a little wider, feather light touches electrifying her skin, sending currents towards her center. His hands leave her then, teasingly letting her wait in suspense. She listens, trying to pick up on any sound of him breathing or moving, her senses operating on full capacity. He’s testing her patience like he has done for the past few days. A chill runs down her spine as seconds tick by, but then Dean palms her heat through the fabric of her shorts. She bites her bottom lip at the unexpected connection, her fists clenching the comforter and a moan escaping her throat. This is happening. This is really happening.

     Y/N feels him tracing the waistband of her shorts, before hooking his thumbs underneath the hem. He’s about to drag them down and move in, when they hear a door handle being pushed down. Her eyes shoot open in time to see Dean jerk back and sit up startled, hitting his head hard against the top bunk. The collision of his skull with the solid wood creates a loud bang, followed by a strangled groan. He curses through gritted teeth, trying to make as little noise as possible, while outside the room a door shuts. Horrified, they both stare at the other end of the room, not moving a muscle as shuffling footsteps cross the hall, opening another door and closing it again. A toilet seat is lifted up, the person whistling to himself softly. There can be only one person who needs encouragement to relieve himself: Garth.

     “For fuck’s sake,” Dean hisses.      Y/N is unable to stop a snort, sniggering silently, even though she tries not to.      “You okay?” she checks, trying to sound concerned. Not very convincing, apparently, because Dean shoots her a glare, while rubbing the sore spot on his head.      The toilet flushes loudly and obscenely, triggering the woman underneath him to giggle unstoppably. When he shushes her, frantically holding his finger to his lips, it achieves the opposite, causing him to break character as well. Doing their best to keep it down, she clasps her hand over her mouth while Dean presses his lips together, trying to compose himself.      “You need to be quiet,” he whispers.      “I c-can’t”, she hiccups, tears streaming down her cheeks.

     Garth heads back to his room, either sleep walking or he’s deaf, because he doesn’t pick up on any of the action happening on the other side of the hall. His door closes, the springs of his bed creak as he gets back in, and silence returns.      “Would you stop?” Dean chuckles, poking Y/N’s side when she fails to control her laughing fit.       “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” she returns, struggling to keep it down. “How’s your head?”      “It’s alright,” he claims, ignoring the slight bump when he runs his hand through his hair. “Moment’s gone, ain’t it?”

      She wipes the tears from her face, breathing in now that she’s capable again. Comforting, she reaches for his hand. As much as she would like to continue, the circumstances aren’t exactly ideal. Their first time together shouldn’t have to be clumsy and uncomfortable, in a bed that’s too small in a room with paper thin walls.       “Rain check?” she proposes.      Dean leans in to leave a kiss on her lips. “Rain check. ‘Sides, wouldn’t wanna have to hold back because you can’t keep it down.”      She pokes him in his stomach now. “Don’t get cocky.”

     Dean scoffs, sliding from the bed without hitting his head this time. Grinning mischievously, he turns around, pulling her to her feet as well. The cowboy takes a second to really look at her again, glad to notice the lack of insecurity in her composure. Her hair is messy, strands escaping the loose bun at the base of her neck, ready for bed in her pajama shorts and a comfortable top. She could have felt self-conscious in this situation, especially since their moment together came to an abrupt and slightly awkward end. But she isn’t, she feels at ease when she’s with him. A small smile forms on the cowboy’s lips.

     “You should get some sleep. We’ll skip the afternoon siestas, now that the temperatures are droppin’, so we’ll start an hour and a half later tomorrow. I figured you might wanna train Meadow first thing in the morning?” he suggests, picking up his shirts from the floor.      Y/N agrees, glad that she’s being given the space to focus on Congress. “Dean, about that…”      He glances back, patiently waiting for the follow up.      “I was wondering if you could maybe help me out with my freestyle?” she asks, a little shy.      “Yeah, of course,” the head wrangler responds without hesitation.       “Great,” she breathes, relieved. “And there’s this other thing.”      Dean steps closer, laying his shirt and flannel over his shoulder so that he has his hands free and can lace his fingers with hers. “What is it?”      “I was hoping you could coach me,” she says, looking up at him. “Not just at home, but when I have to compete in Columbus, too.”

     Humbled, he gazes back, the corners of his mouth curving up. Coaching such a skilled rider as Y/N would be an absolute privilege, and with the trainers he knows she’s had, he’s surprised she’s asking him. Sure, the connection they have personally is there on a much more professional level as well, but they are talking Congress here, the biggest show of the year, and possibly the most important one of her career. Apparently, she has as much faith in his abilities to guide her as he has faith in her talent.        “It’ll be my pleasure,” he states.      “Really?” Y/N responds, thrilled.       “Hell, yeah,” Dean says, excited. “I’ll have to check with management if I can get time off for Congress, but I have plenty of days left. Plus, I think Ellen is kinda rooting for us.”      She chuckles, but then does a double take. “Wait, what? Ellen knows we’re together? I - I mean, not together together, I get that we’re not an item--”      “-Ellen knows,” he grins, squeezing her hand when he interrupts her nervous train of words. “I think basically everyone knows by now, except Garth and Bobby.”

     A little uneasy Y/N glances from their hands up into his eyes. Wait… Is she reading too much into his words? He didn’t correct her when she used the term ‘together’. Why didn’t he? Is he worried he might upset her again? If anything, she doesn’t want to push him to oblige to something he’s not ready for.      “Dean, I know we just… I didn’t mean--” She pauzes, collects herself and starts over. “I know you’re not ready for a relationship and that’s fine, we had that conversation already. I’m not trying to rush you.”      “You’re not rushin’ me,” he assures, calmly. “I just needed a wake up call in order to pull my head out of my ass.”      The woman before him hesitates, “W-what do you mean?”

     The wrangler wets his lips, taking a second to choose his words carefully.       “When your old man called, for a minute I thought you were about to hop on a plane and that I was never gonna see you again,” he admits. “And - uh, it kinda freaked me out, to be honest.”      He huffs, barely able to believe what he’s about to say.      “I’m not gonna keep you waitin’ any longer, Yankee. I know I said I want you, earlier, but truth is…” 

     Y/N watches him glance down at their hands again, running his thumb over her knuckles. Nerves close off her throat, because she has a hunch that he’s about to break it to her; he doesn’t want the commitment. 

Tears begin to prick in her eyes, but not from laughter this time. She knew it was going to be difficult to get close to him. Dean keeps to himself, probably because he cared too much in the past and learned his lesson the hard way. The possibility of her leaving spooked him today, and now he’s done. He doesn’t want to risk that kind of heartbreak, he doesn’t want to rely on anyone. Dean Winchester would rather fill his world with a hundred shallow and meaningless flings than with one solid partner, and this is him setting her free, before things get out of --      “I wanna be with you.”

     Her racing mind, which was breaking the speed limit, hits a brick wall. Shocked, she pulls her eyes away from their entwined fingers, gazing at him almost dumbfoundedly. Did he just say he wants to be with me?      “W-what?” she stammers.      “I mean, if you’ll still have me,” Dean adds, a little unsettled by her response. “Look, I know I’m not exactly an open book and that I behave like a dick sometimes when you try to get through to me. I’m stubborn as hell and my communication skills need some work—”

     Now it’s Y/N who cuts him off for a change, closing the gap and kissing him passionately. He eases into her, smiling against her lips and leaves a peck on her hair when she embraces him and buries her face under his chin. Relieved, he allows the breath he was holding to leave his lungs.      “So, what do you say?” he asks, cocking his head back slightly to be able to look her in the eye again. “Up for a challenge?”      “Are we talking about us training together for Congress, or us as a couple?” she checks, regaining her footing again.      Dean frowns and chuckles at that. “Both.”      She doesn’t need time to think. She knew the answer to this question long before Dean was ready to ask.      “Yes,” she beams. “Hell, yes.”

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read part eighteen here

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

Return to Me - Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Two: And I Run, Run, Run

A/N: Sorry I had to skip last week, I needed some time to get caught up! I hope you like this chapter, let me know what you think! Let me know if you want to be tagged, too, or if I missed you in the list.

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader Word Count: 4,512 Synopsis: Still on the run, the reader travels to Arvala-7, where she meets someone who opens her eyes to how foolish she has been.  Warnings: violence

Tag List:  @xeniarocks​, @too-many-baes​, @araceli91103​, @idocarealot​, @treblebeth, @treestarrrrrrrr​, @thescarletknight2014​, @charlottie2998​, @ibikus​, @mellow-f1​, @mrsdaamneron​, @trustme3-13​, @missjess71, @ella-solei​, @minelskede​, @gleigh42​, @usuallyweepingnacho, @givemethatgold​, @and-claudia​, @constantdisgrace​, @wordsinwinters​, @readingvogueonprivetdrive​, @trshbb​, @kaitlynw011​, @ihave2muchtimeonmyhands​, @fairytalesforever​, @thanos-jeep​, @mixedfandxms​, @pastelbunny1501, @emotionalcal​, @danicalifxrnia​, @getyourselfaunicorn​, @spider-starry​, @jimhalpertcanbuymelove, @angelicaxhouston, @roserrys​, @blushingwueen​, @americasass-romanoff​, @commondazy​, @throughparisallthroughrome​, @ms-dont-care​ , @bubblegumcat229​ , @barnesdameron​

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After Poe left, you didn’t waste much time. You allowed yourself a few minutes to cry, but quickly wiped your face clean. The Resistance had found you, which meant that your location was no longer safe. Looks like you wouldn’t be able to sell those scraps after all.

You pulled out the scrap of paper that you had kept in your pocket since leaving the Gungan Underworld. It had a list of planets, some crossed off, with the words, “Not Safe,” written next to them. You quickly jotted down another “Not Safe” next to Taris and scratched it off.

You finished packing your few things and tried to keep your eyes from traveling to the slight indent in your bed where Poe had slept.

It was still dark out when you left the room. Of course, on Taris that didn’t exactly matter. There were still people creeping around every corner of the poorly lit street, but you kept your bearings. When you left Naboo, Jobee Qod had lent you an old ship. He said that the Gungans didn’t get much use of out it, and when he led you to it, you saw that he was right.

The old ship was rusting in more spots than it wasn’t, and when it reached lightspeed it made an awful humming noise, but it worked. It was the kind of piece of junk you only look at once, and wish that you hadn’t seen, which made it the perfect ship for your travels. You had to get some repairs on it when you landed on Felucia, which unfortunately cut your stay there shorter, but other than that, the old clunker had proved useful for you.

When you landed on Taris, you gave up most of the credits you had stashed away to store it in an old hangar. As you approached the shop, it was clear the owner wasn’t home. For a second you thought about hanging around to wait for day to hit and the shop to open, but then you remembered your dreams. Yes, the Resistance had found you, but you figured they would when you sent out your transmission. You could handle the Resistance. But if the First Order were to find you, which was likely, given the dream you had last night, there was no chance for you to escape. Not when you were as alone as you were.

Waiting simply wasn’t an option.

You snuck around the back of the building, although you weren’t sure it would matter. There were people milling about the street, but they were all focused on their own business. They were probably just as hopeful as you were that no one was watching what they were doing.

At the rear of the shop there were two large windows and a back door. Hoping for luck that never seemed to find you, you tried the door first. Locked. And when you tried the windows, too, you found they were also locked.

“Damn it,” you muttered. You took another look around you. No one was watching you. You had tried to remain as harmless as possible on your mission to disappear, but you had to do some things that were quite unbecoming of a queen, even if you weren’t eager to do so. Right now, you had to make another choice to get off of Taris.

With your elbow, you broke the glass of the large window. Break-ins were common in this part of the planet, so no one really invested in high quality security systems, or even higher strength glass. There wasn’t anything worth saving down here.

Your ship rattled as you started it up, but it still started. You threw your things in the back and took a few breaths. Usually when you had to fly you thought of Poe. Poe could fly anything, and always made it look simple, so you would try to embody his cool demeanor when you took flight. But after everything that had happened, you had to actively stop yourself from thinking about him. And the memories that did appear weren’t happy ones.

“There’s no time for that,” you said to yourself, hoping that hearing the sound of your own voice would break you from your thoughts, “I only need to focus on leaving.”

The next planet on your list was Arvala-7. It was quite a ways away, but from the way a man on Felucia had descried it to you, it was one of the perfect places in the galaxy to completely disappear. There were lots of people there, he had explained, but they’re just as eager as you to stay hidden.

You hadn’t trusted the man not to follow you directly to Arvala-7, so when you left Felucia, you decided to journey to Taris instead. But you were running out of leads now, and Arvala-7 seemed like a perfect location to get away for a while, at least to make plans of a more permanent location for you.

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“Thank you, you’re very kind.”

“I wouldn’t call it kind, missy, I’m expecting hard work out of you. Just because I’m letting you stay with us, doesn’t mean you won’t have to earn your keep.” You nodded your head and followed behind Marsa, a woman you had met on the outpost you had arrived at on Arvala-7. She could see you looking around, trying to find your way, and assumed you were looking for a place to get away. She offered you one right away. Said that she employed all kinds of drifters, as long as they worked hard.

You weren’t even sure what kind of work Marsa was in, you were just glad for a place to stay. She even had a field where you could keep your little ship, that after this last trip, seemed to be on its last leg. You wouldn’t be comfortable taking it back into space without getting some repairs done, which wouldn’t happen without getting some real money.

Marsa lived three hours away from the outpost. It was true that she must scavenge for workers there because she had absolutely no other business besides picking you up. It was as if she was waiting for you. You flew behind her, taking in the scenery as you made your way to her farm. You were hoping to recognize landmarks so that if things took a turn for the worst, you could find your way back, but it was just a vast expanse of nothing. Sand for miles and miles.

Hopefully, you wouldn’t need to make a quick leave.

Within a week of staying at Marsa’s house, you felt comfortable that you wouldn’t need to make a quick getaway. Besides Marsa, her wife and two daughters, the ranch you stayed on was quiet. Marsa and her family only talked to you when they had work for you to do. It was a regular routine you could throw yourself into.

You woke up at first light in the day and helped Marsa and a few of her ranch hands round up the blurrgs. Once they were corralled, you assisted in equipping them for agricultural labor. Whatever needed done on the ranch, as long as it was too big for you and the ranch hands to handle, the blurrgs were able to do. This left you with room for other jobs, which meant that Marsa sent you on nearly every errand she needed.

You were skeptical at first to travel in and around town for her, but eventually the boredom you felt on the ranch persuaded you to leave. The town was nearly as quiet the ranch. No one seemed to notice that you weren’t from around there, and if they did, they didn’t ask about it.

Everything was simple on Arvala-7, which is exactly as you wanted it. You needed to get away from all of the stress you had been living with for the last two years, and this was the perfect location. When you were doing chores for Marsa, it was easier to forget about all you left. And with the location you had chosen, you were almost certain that the First Order would ever find you here. The planet was far too remote and seemingly unimportant for their efforts, and even if they did show up, the chances of them finding you on the ranch were slim to none.

Everything was working out the way you had hoped on Arvala-7, until Khwaabi arrived.

Khwaabi was a man, around the same age as you, in a similar position as you. Marsa invited you into town with her one day, stating that she needed an extra hand to carry back everything she needed to pick up, although you suspected she was just lonely as her wife was visiting her family off-planet. Inexplicably, Marsa decided to make a detour to the outpost in town. When you questioned her about it, she just waved her hand at you and told you that she had a feeling. As you walked in with her, you surveyed the room nervously. In groups like these, there were often First Order patrols. But you also suspected that the reason Marsa had decided to come into the outpost was to keep an eye out for other lost souls like you, in the hopes of bringing them onto her ranch as well.

When you saw Khwaabi, you only had to look at him for a second to know Marsa would invite him to the ranch. He had that same lost look in his eyes that you must have had when you arrived on Arvala-7. She approached him and all too soon, he agreed to come back to the ranch with the two of you.

Although he was in the same position as you, Khwaabi was much different than you. He was an open book. Just on the ride back to Marsa’s ranch, you learned that he was from Kashyyyk. And unlike you, he told you exactly why he had left. Khwaabi had fallen in love with a boy, Leoro. But his father hadn’t approved of Khwaabi, so he decided to leave Kashyyyk to make a life that Leoro’s family would be proud of.

He was easy to read which made him an easy friend. There weren’t any secrets about him, which meant that you could trust him with yours. Although, you never did. You were nearly positive that Khwaabi could be trusted, but you had been burned before. And talking about everything that had happened seemed daunting and pointless. Whenever he tried to get any information out of you, you simply changed the subject back to Leoro and he forgot everything else.

About a month into knowing Khwaabi, a breaking point came where you could no longer hide your past. It had become a fun game for him and the other ranch hands, guessing wildly about where you had come from. They came up with tales of pirating and espionage, one even guessed that you were an empress on the run from your kingdom, but you never gave in. You just laughed at their guesses and tucked in early for the night.

But one day, you couldn’t run anymore.

Marsa sent you and Khwaabi into the marketplace for a few supplies, where you met your past face to face. Although you had suspected that Arvala-7 was safe, you knew that nowhere was truly safe from the First Order. There had been a few patrols through the town, but Marsa had made her business from drifters, and she knew to turn around when she saw them, in order to keep her workers safe. Only this time, Marsa wasn’t with you, and the patrol had blocked off the major exits from the marketplace. The only way out was through their checkpoint.

“What are you doing?” Khwaabi asked as you stopped suddenly, grabbing onto his forearm. He followed your petrified gaze to the marketplace entrance and laughed softly. “Come on, they’re just making sure we aren’t stealing or speaking ill of the First Order, we’ll be fine.” He tried to keep moving, even pulling you along gently, but when you remained planted to the dirt he paused. “Y/N? What is it?”

“I can’t be seen by them,” you said quietly. A million questions raced through Khwaabi’s mind, but he knew he couldn’t ask them now. He looped his arm around yours and pulled you to the opposite end of the market, behind a stall that was selling dark purple fruit.

“What’s going on?” he asked. He was often joking and smiling, but he was serious now, more serious than you had ever seen him before. You were grateful for it.

“I can’t be seen by them.”

“Why? We’ve got nothing to hide,” he said simply. You let out a deep sigh and looked up into his kind, golden eyes. “Does this have something to do with your mysterious pirating past?” he asked, garnering a gentle laugh from you.

“Not exactly pirating, but yeah,” you said reluctantly. “If they see me, I’m as good as dead. I’m on the run from the First Order, and the Resistance,” you added after a pause. Khwaabi’s eyes were wide but he only nodded, his long dark braids bouncing easily.

“Alright. I can get us out of here, but you have to promise you’ll finally tell me about your past. Once we’re safe and all.” You rolled your eyes but nodded.

“I promise.”

“Great. There’s a fence behind that shop down there,” he said, pointing to a small building a couple feet down. Easy enough to hop, just have to make sure no one’s watching. And then we’ll have to run.”

“Run?”

“Well, the First Order ships are parked on that side of the marketplace. If any of them see us we’re as good as dead, so we better make quick work of it.”

“This wouldn’t be the first time running for my life, I’m sure I’ll be fine,” you said. Khwaabi smiled at you widely.

“I’m very much looking forward to hearing your story, Y/N. Let’s go.”

You made your way down to the shop and Khwaabi helped you over the fence. He was right, the First Order ships weren’t far off. The second he dropped down next to you, the two of you ran and didn’t stop until you got back to Marsa’s place. She gave you each a questioning eyebrow, but went back into her house a moment later.

“Alright, pirate, now it’s time for your story.”

“Let’s get some water first,” you said breathlessly. Khwaabi nodded his head and followed you into your quarters. Once you had each caught your breath, you began telling Khwaabi the long-winded story of your life, up until the horrendous meeting you had with Poe back on Taris. Khwaabi didn’t speak or move for a while, but when he finally did stand, he picked up the pillow at the end of your tiny bed and hit you over the head with it.

“Ow! What the hell was that for?”

“Because I would kill to live your life, Y/N! You’re a princess!”

“A queen,” you muttered quietly, trying not to interrupt his rant.

“You have love! The only thing standing in your way is you!”

“That’s not true, there are my parents, the First Order—”

“You’re just making excuses, Y/N,” he said, sitting down across from you. “You could make a real change. The only reason the Resistance and the First Order are looking for you is because you can make a difference, and you’re running away because you’re scared.”

“I’m so sick of people saying that!” you said, standing up and beginning to pace. “I’m not scared, I’m just thinking practically. I can see where this all is going to go.”

“I think you’re just being paranoid. You have an entire family within the Resistance ready to fight next to you and keep you safe,” he said. You sighed and looked away from him. “Look, I only just heard your story, so maybe I don’t know everything, but it sounds like you ran away instead of fighting.”

“Isn’t that what you did? When you left Kashyyyk?” you asked, turning to look back at him. He frowned at you.

“Not at all. I am fighting. I’m fighting to make my life better so that I am deserving of Leoro. Once I reach that goal, I’ll go back. Are you really telling me you’re going to run forever?”

“I don’t have a choice,” you said.

“You could go back and fight. Fight for your home and your love and your life.”

“You know, I think you’d fit in really well with the Resistance. They all really like giving long, inspirational speeches,” you said. He laughed and nodded his head.

“Maybe I can check it out with you.”

“I can’t go back now. Not after everything I said to Poe,” you said, shaking your head.

“No, you can’t go back now. Not with nothing,” Khwaabi said. You raised an eyebrow at him.

“And what exactly am I supposed to go back with?”

“I don’t know. Like I said, I just learned your story. But I’m sure you’ll figure out what you can do to fix all of this mess with the First Order and the Resistance and your husband,” he said, looking at you with kind eyes. You couldn’t hold his gaze for long and looked away, nodding your head gently.

“Thank you, Khwaabi. For getting me out of town and for this.”

“No problem. Now, that run was exhausting, so I’m going to get some rest. If you decided to leave for the Resistance, at least wake me up before you go.”

“Will do,” you said with a laugh.

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Khwaabi had really expected his talk to work, because the next day he was so surprised to see you, he nearly choked on his breakfast, and for the rest of the day he didn’t speak to you. You understood his frustrations, but he had only just heard your story. He didn’t know all the ins and outs of your situation. There was no way you could go back to the Resistance. There was too much pain there. In your head you could hear Khwaabi saying ‘There’s pain here, too,’ but you elected to ignore it.

It took a couple days, but eventually Khwaabi came back to you, acting normally. He never brought up what you told him, although sometimes when he would talk about his love for Leoro, he would give you strange looks. You realized he only did this when your mind started to wander off, but it was hard to listen to him talk about his gorgeous man, when you had once had one, too.

You figured that Khwaabi knew what he was doing, but you didn’t much care. The longer you stayed away from the Resistance, the harder it got to keep on course and remember why you left. Of course, every night you went to bed, knowing that if your dreams slipped to Ren’s again, you’d have to be on the run once more. But listening to Khwaabi talk about love and life made you feel a little bit at home, and let you remember what it was like to have those hopes.

A week after the incident in the marketplace, you and Khwaabi were back, picking up a parcel for Marsa. You had briefly told her what happened, so she had been the one to make the last few trips. She had said that the First Order was gone, but when you arrived in town, you could see they were back.

“How in the fuck?” you muttered under your breath, making Khwaabi laugh.

“That’s not how princesses should talk,” he said with a laugh.

“I’m not a princess,” you said, trying to turn around. Khwaabi grabbed your arm and kept you walking forward. “What are you doing?”

“They’re looking at us,” he said, smiling so it didn’t look like he was talking to you, “If we turn around they’ll come after us. Just keep your head down. They’re not even doing a checkpoint. We’ll be fine.”

You nodded your head and quickly took hold of his hand, holding it tight as you passed the Stormtroopers. They looked you over quickly but said nothing. You let out a sigh once you were away from them, but that moment of relief was quickly squandered when you heard a scream.

You and Khwaabi both turned around to see a young girl, no more than sixteen, on the ground. Two Stormtroopers were standing over her, mocking her. It was clear that they had just hit her, seeing the way she held her stomach. As they geared up to take another hit, Khwaabi pushed the things in his hands into yours and raced forward.

“Stop! What has this girl done?” he asked, pulling back the hand of one of the Stormtroopers.

“Keep walking,” the Stormtrooper muttered, pulling his hand away.

“She is just a girl! Surely, there is another way you can get what you need from her,” he said.

“I said, keep walking,” the Stormtrooper said, much firmer this time. Khwaabi stood his ground, and you watched, along with the group that had gathered around the commotion, as the Stormtrooper hit Khwaabi across the face.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” the other Stormtrooper said. They marched off, and just like that, it was over. The crowd started to clear and Khwaabi helped the girl stand. You walked over to them and Khwaabi gave you a cold look.

“What did they want from you?” he asked the girl.

“I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head, “They said I gave them a disrespectful look, and then all of the sudden I was on the ground.” Khwaabi shook his head and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Are you going to be alright?”

“Yeah, I think so. Thank you.”

“Forget about it. Any respectable person would have done the same.” You thought for a moment that the cold look he gave you before might have been a mistake, but it was clear from his tone, Khwaabi was furious with you, and you had no idea why.

The rest of your visit to the marketplace was silent. You passed by the same Stormtroopers on your way out, but if they recognized you or Khwaabi, they didn’t care.

“Okay, I can tell you’re mad. Can we talk about it?” you asked once you had cleared the town and were on your long walk back to Marsa’s.

“Why didn’t you step in?” he asked, looking at you with a new look in his eyes. Possibly disappointment?

“What was I supposed to do? They’re two Stormtroopers, I have no weapons—”

“Neither did I. Neither did that girl.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say. I told you, I’m running from the First Order, I’m not about to get tangled up with a couple of deadbeat Stormtroopers just because . . .”

“Just because what? Finish that sentence, Y/N. Just because an innocent girl was getting beaten? Just because your best friend now has a black eye?” he asked.

“I don’t know if I would say best friend . . .”

“Y/N!” he yelled, grabbing hold of your arms. “You can make a difference. You can help millions of people. And yet you run because you only care about yourself.”

“That’s not true,” you said, taking a step back.

“I don’t know, what I do know is that if I had the power you do, the influence you do, I wouldn’t be hiding out. I’d be facing down those bullies and sticking up for the innocent.” You looked at him with wide eyes but he only shrugged. “It’s whatever. Like you’ve said, I don’t know the whole story. Maybe hiding out here in the middle of nowhere is the best idea.”

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You knew he was right. You knew Poe was right. The second you had stormed away from the Resistance, you knew you were in the wrong. Running away was the move of cowards, and you had never wanted to be one of those. It took some time for you to admit it, but you were a coward. You were completely afraid of what would happen if you did fight, if you did everything in your power to help bring peace back to the galaxy, and it was all for naught.

When you ran, you thought you were doing what was best for Poe, what was best for you. You realized now that you were punishing everyone you cared about because of a decision by your family and Broden.

When you became queen, it was because you thought you would be helping people. You knew you had done good during your term, even if the whole thing was concocted by Broden. But now, you felt that the only thing you could bring to the Resistance was your connection with Kylo Ren.

You sat up in bed immediately.

Why had you been so stupid? The connection with Ren had been the thing that caused you to become queen, and the reason you were finally able to figure out Broden’s betrayal. If there was anything else you could offer the Resistance, it was your connection with Kylo Ren.

When you rushed into Khwaabi’s room, he was already up.

“What?” he asked.

“You’re right. I’ve been selfish, but there is something I can do for the Resistance, for the galaxy, but I’m going to need your help.”

“And why should I help you?” he asked. He was teasing, but it was also clear that he was still mad about what had happened in the marketplace.

“Because if you get me to where I’m going, you can keep my ship. That’ll get you somewhere nicer than here, where you can make a life for you and Leoro.” He looked at you for a minute but then smiled.

“Alright, where are we going?”

“Kylo Ren’s fortress on Byss.”