#swan takes the morning train

[azulhood]

Danny was tired, like 'I feel it in my bones and soul' tired. And he didn't want sleep at home because there's only so many nights, he could spend lying awake making sure his heart was beating in case his parents checked on him.

Currently he was flying aimlessly not really taking in his surroundings, but he could neither sleep while flying or fly forever. Normally he'd sleep over at Sam or Tucker's, but the Mansons had made it clear that he wasn't welcome at their house anymore and Tucker was grounded. Both would sneak him in if he asked, but he didn't want them to get in trouble for him. Which leads him to decide between his two choices, sleeping in a graveyard, or sleeping in a forest.

The graveyard was a little crowded with all the ghosts that called it home but he could probably find a quiet spot to sleep. The forest had a great view of the stars but was filled with traps from both his parents and the GIW after tracking his ecto-signature. Both options weren't appealing, but he wasn't about to chance sleeping on the roof of his house again. There were too many ghost detecting guns attached to it now. Danny sighed, graveyard it was, at least the ecto from all the shades/ghosts would hide him well enough. Decision made, now all he had to do was make his way over there. But first, where the heck was he? Danny looked around at the unfamiliar grey sky and gargoyles littered around and realized he had no clue where he was. He must have flown too far away from Amity without noticing...Again. It was really becoming a bad habit. Danny stared down at the city's inhabitants that were going home or heading to nightshifts or whatever and dreaded the long flight back to his town. And maybe it was ghost instinct, or maybe it was just his exhaustion. But his brain suggested 'What if I just possess someone?' And to him that seemed like a perfectly logical train of thought. He wouldn't control their body or anything, just sleep in their skin...That did not make it sound better at all. Before he could think twice, someone left a general store, arms filled with stuff and somehow projecting an aura of safety. The two thoughts of 'They look comfy' and 'screw it' clashed together in his head as he made the very stupid decision of performing a swan drive right into the someone. "WHAT THE-" "Don't worry, I'll be gone by morning I just need to sleep" Danny cut off the persons freakout-he should really get their name at some point- he would have explained more but the sleep gods had already done their job. This left one very confused, scared, and freaked out Batkid.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Bike II

Chelsea Women x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You're good at bike riding

"I'm so tired," Erin complains, fanning herself," God, it's hot today."

"I need a nap," Millie agrees.

"A nap and to do nothing for the rest of the day," Niamh says as she passes by, stripping off her sweaty training shirt," I'm just going to go home and melt."

"Home and an ice cream," Zećira continues, nodding and completely satisfied with her plan," I can't wait to get home."

"You'll all have to wait," Magda says decisively from the day. She'd come in earlier than everyone else, taking you into the building for a toilet and hydration break.

Most of the team had actually been quite worried about you.

This heat is sweltering and you're still tiny and excitable with energy that makes you run all over the field. It's like an accident waiting to happen.

Pernille had you stop and take long drinks from your water bottle all through practice until it ran out and she sent you off with Magda to fill it up.

You and Magda never came back though so everyone just presumed you'd already been bundled up in the car where there's air conditioning to use while you wait for Pernille to finish up and change.

"There's a surprise out the front."

"Is it an ice cream van?" Guro asks," Because that's the only thing that will make me happy right now."

"It's not an ice cream van."

"Then I'm out."

"No you're not," Magda says sternly," You're all going out the front with a smile and you're going to celebrate and clap and give compliments. Got it?"

"It's hot," Sam complains," Can't we rearrange this surprise?"

"No, Sam. We're doing it now."

"Give them a second to change, Magda," Pernille says," We're all hot. We're all irritable. Give them a sec."

Magda huffs. "Fine. I'll be out the front." She points a finger at everyone in turn. "I expect you all out there in ten minutes."

Pernille manages to shepherd everyone out in five.

"Right," Millie says, adjusting her cap so it properly shades her from the beating sun," What's-Oh."

"Look!" You say," I'm riding my bike!"

You peddle quickly around the car park, little legs pumping as you turn your handlebars so you're going around in circles.

You're doing impressively well on your bike, a very slow for an adult but fast for a little kid. It's even more impressive when the team note that you've not got any stabilisers.

A little basket that wasn't originally there when Sam bought it sits on the front and in it sits your swan and moose toy as well as a little bouquet of flowers that Pernille bought you at the market this morning.

Most of the team is speechless until Jessie starts clapping.

"Well done!" She calls out," You're doing so well!"

You beam at the praise, puffing out your chest in pride and pump your legs even faster.

Magda also puffs out her chest and Pernille has to smother her laughter.

"I taught her to ride," Magda brags," We took her stabilisers off last week. Isn't she so good?"

"The best!" Jessie agrees warmly, still clapping.

"Best ever!" Sam yells out," Look at you go!"

The team seem to have forgotten their exhaustion as you skid to a stop nearly half an hour later, everyone crowding around you as you pant from your cycling.

"Look at this!" Zećira exclaims," It's such a cool colour!"

"It's red," You tell her," Like Arsenal and Sweden's goalkeeper shirt! I love red!"

"It is!" Zećira says, nodding along," And you've got a little basket!"

"For my toys," You tell her," And my water bottle. And I've got a bell!"

You demonstrate by flicking it, letting the noise rings out through the car park.

"That's so cool!"

You grin at Zećira before looking at Jessie, suddenly shy.

"Did I do good, Jessie?"

She grins at you, ruffling your hair. "So good. I'm very impressed. I didn't know you could ride a bike!"

"Morsa taught me," You explain," And Momma did too. At the park. They say if I keep practicing and getting better and better we can all do a ride together! Do you want to go on a bike ride with me, Jessie?"

Jessie grins. "I'd love to."

[choccorin]

fluff , itoshi rin x gn!reader, self indulgent

n. rin brainrot is real. i wrote this at 3 am so expect errors !! <3

rin had managed to get a one week break from his work — because his coach forced him to, saying that he was working too much and that he should rest — and what better way to spend a week off than going to a resort with his lovely partner.

you booked a room at this beautiful resort to spend time together and while booking, rin says that the room must have two beds. you’ve been dating for a couple of months now, but haven't slept on the same bed before. that’s because rin is still shy around you, even if he doesn't show it — his reactions are always obvious. and that he’s not really the physical touch guy.

when the two of you arrive at the scheduled date, the receptionist tells you that there was a mistake in their system and that your booked room was accidentally given to someone else. they also couldn't take the room back because the customer came in a day before you. you look at rin who looks absolutely pissed, his face didn't change much but his eyes express everything. before he speaks, you cut him off,

“i’ll handle this, rin.” you smiled, gently squeezing on his left arm, giving him assurance.

he scoffs, “hmph. fine.”

while rin stands on a side of the counter, slightly frowning, you converse with the receptionist, asking if there are any rooms available. yes, they respond. but there was one issue.

——————

“one bed. there’s only one bed.” rin glares at the perfectly prepared bed with swan towels. he looks so displeased that it actually shows on his whole face, and his cheeks have that slight tint of pink, you giggle at the sight.

“ha? what’s so funny?!” he looks at you, flustered and confused.

“you just look so cute when you’re flustered, rin.” you try to stifle your giggles.

while giggling, the vast sea caughts your eye. you daze at how beautiful it looks from your room floor, you’re so focused that you don’t notice your boyfriend admiring you with a soft smile planted on his face.

rin would’ve rushed to the receptionist to change the rooms if you didn't look so perfect right now.

——————

since the two of you got here early, you both decided to have some fun at the beach and explore the resort as well. you were glad thar there weren't many people that recognized rin, or maybe they just respected his private life, either way you were happy that your boyfriend finally got to relax after training for weeks.

once you get back to the hotel, the problem hits you right after entering the room. both of you had so much fun that you both forgot that you were going to share the bed tonight, and also for the whole week.

rin suggests that he should just sleep on the couch with you immediately decline. what kind of girlfriend are you if you let your professional athlete boyfriend sleep on a couch that he could barely even lay on down, right?

you suggest that you sleep on the floor which he also, immediately declines. you’re now out of options, so you just decide to sleep on the same bed.

rin laid down far from you that almost feel offended, his back is facing you too, he really doesn't want to sleep on the same bed huh.

you went to ask on how he’s doing so you flip him to his back side and to your surprise, he’s absolutely flushed, red as a tomato, he’s so flustered that it’s out of character.

you knew he was shy on sleeping on the same bed but wasn't this too much?! he’s so red that your afraid he might pass out so you calm him down by holding his hands, giving them a few tight squeezes.

you're both now facing each other, making little talks here and there, you can tell that he’s still tense so you keep holding his hands until you both doze off, succumbing to sleep.

——————

when you wake up next morning, you’re surprised to see that you’re laying on top of him, on his chest. his arms are holding you tight which you know you have zero chances of escaping, so you just admire your boyfriend instead. you always adore how peaceful rin looks compared to how he usually is, his body is warm and his arms are comforting to be in. this is the first time this has happened so you might as well savor it to your hearts’ content.

[lucid-loves]

Taste Like Venom ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 1

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x assassin!reader (fem!reader, no use of y/n, callsign “Hex”)

Word Count: 3.4k

CW: angst, violence, blood, strong language, scars, enemies to friends to lovers trope, slow burn, plot, clear attraction and sexual tension, smut later on, reader POV and ghost POV, minors dni, Soap lives in this AU

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Synopsis: After Makarov gets away again, Laswell decides to force a favor from you, the world’s greatest assassin and best-kept secret. You are now expected to help the 141 with taking down Makarov in addition to playing nice with them. It’s hard to play nice when you have always worked alone. It doesn’t help that one of the team members, Ghost, gets curious about you with each interaction. 

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~ Part 8 ~ Part 9 ~ Part 10

You’ve always been a light sleeper, if you could even be called that. The truth was that you hardly slept at all. Bedtime was always more like cat-nap time. Light, soundless, ready to pounce at the sound of dust falling to the floor. That’s how you trained yourself and the habit stuck, even if you don’t take missions anymore. It was hard to deprogram a killing machine. 

The two years have been peaceful even if you were always on edge. Semi-retirement has been kind in only giving you the sounds of the forest trees in the wind, the gentle rush of the creek, birds singing every morning, and most importantly, no visitors. The world didn’t know that you existed and you preferred to keep it that way for as long as you could. While you did feel the phantom blood dripping down your hands every now and then to an unsettling reminiscent degree, you did like this little slice of heaven that was your off-grid cabin. It was a good place to be before you undoubtedly go to hell in the end.

You were in your bed when you heard the rustling of the forest floor just outside your window. Steps. But not the steps belonging to a fox or bear you have learned to recognize over time. These were the steps of a man. No, multiple men. The way the foot falls of a man walking is an undeniable melody you have heard thousands of times. In the dead of night, you bolted up out of bed and reached for your throwing knife and a pistol, always kept at your bedside. Like a thief in your own home, you silently followed the sounds outside along the walls until you reached the living room. They were going to come in through the front door. 

Under the cover of darkness, you readied your aim at the door. To your surprise, they were messing with the keypad that locked your house down, inputting codes with a subtle click and then beep of a correct code. No one should know the code except for two people. Laswell and yourself. 

As soon as the door revealed moonlight and a silhouette, you fired your gun. A warning shot. Grazing right past neck. The men stopped and immediately aimed their own rifles, but the one in front held his hand up in surrender. Following orders, the rifles were lowered. You were the first to speak, your voice dripping with venom. “State your purpose and maybe I won’t kill you all where you stand.”

A gentle yet deep Liverpudlian accent voiced back. “Easy now. We don’t mean harm. Laswell sent us here. Code Swan.”

“Song?” You replied, your muscles still tense, unwilling to lower your defenses until the full code was complete. It is what ensured both yours and Laswell’s safety.

“Black Death.” He replied back. You stayed in position for a few moments before finally sighing and lowering your weapon. You turned on a table lamp next to you to get a better look at the intruders. Four men stood in your doorway. One with a fishing hat, one with a mohawk, one with a baseball cap, and one with a skull mask. They were all tall, big with muscle, and seemingly not American from their patches. An interesting bunch to say the least. 

“Fucking Laswell.” You cursed Kate’s name. She should have contacted you about this. You were just about to paint the porch with her mens’ brains. You hated surprises. You often killed them before finding out the intentions. 

With a wave of your hand, you invited the men to come into your cabin. They cautiously came in, surveying the layout and now understanding what Kate meant when she said that you were “belligerent.”

You turned on the main lights and tried to get a fire going to relieve some of the autumn chill that had crept through the house. Their leader began to unload his things on the kitchen table, sighing from the weight relief. His men joined in, save for one. You could feel his eyes on you as you encouraged the fire. You didn’t even have to look back to know that he was watching your every move. 

“It’s rude to stare.” You warned curtly as you stood and turned. The man in the skull mask and balaclava didn’t avert his gaze.

His voice was rich and gruff like gaboon ebony. His Manchester accent came clear as day. “You’re half naked.”

He was referring to the large band shirt and boyshort panties that you were wearing. What did he expect from someone that thought that enemies were breaking in? You rolled your eyes and scoffed. “I’m in my pajamas. Besides, a good soldier shouldn’t get distracted by any amount of nudity.”

His blue eyes narrowed at your dig. He was a good soldier. An excellent soldier actually. One of the best. But excellent, good, or bad, no one would be able to resist staring at your figure. The exposed thighs, the large neckline of the shirt hanging off your shoulder, various scars scattered across skin like an abstract painting. He’s never seen anyone like you before. 

Too bad you had a combative mouth. 

Before he could get a word in, you had walked off into the kitchen, not bothering to go get pants on. It was your home for fuck’s sake. Besides, there were more pressing matters than your clothes or lack thereof. 

You began to pull out all the food you had out of your fridge. Everything from deli meat to leftover lasagna was being laid out on the large quartz island. You weren’t going to heat anything up or make something new, but the laid out spread would be enough. You weren’t a completely heartless host. Just a bare minimum one.

Once the food was out for pickings, you headed back near the dining room, leaning against the doorframe. The boys had maps, blueprints, and laptops covering every surface of your table. Your beautiful, hand-made pine table. This was to be their new safehouse for now. Hopefully not for too long.

“Captain, it’s connecting now.” The one with the mohawk called out. The captain came right over to greet the screen.

“Laswell, can you hear us?”

“Loud and clear, John. Did everything go well?” Kate chipperly asked. You haven’t heard her voice in a long while. You almost forgot how nice her voice actually was.

“She nearly shot my fuckin’ neck off.” Mohawk-guy grumbled. 

Kate gave a light, short laugh. “Sounds like it went smoothly then. The best that it could be. She there?”

All four men looked up to you, expecting you to come over and face Laswell through the screen. However, you stayed where you were. Instead, you spoke loud enough for your friend to hear. “Kate Laswell.”

“Hex, I’m sorry that I couldn’t warn you about this beforehand. You know I wouldn’t have done this if it wasn’t an emergency situation.” She began to apologize and justify. It was always an apology followed by a justification. You wondered if she even ever means her apologies, but in the end, you never really cared enough. However, now it is different.

“I don’t exist, Kate. And now four new people know that I do. . .” You retorted back.

It was silent for a moment, the tension in the air thick. She was on the other side of the screen, but it felt like you were going to get into a physical fight with her anyways. “They’re trustworthy. I trust them with my life and the lives of millions upon millions. Just like I trust you. And as the only people that I trust, I need you to help them.”

“They have already taken over my home. What more do you want from me?” You clenched your jaw, trying to prepare yourself for an answer you probably wouldn’t like. Like hell were you going to play dorm mother to them and like hell you were going to just move out. The last thing you wanted was to take care of these men longer than necessary. This was already pushing that line for you.

“Athame.” She bluntly said. That was the worst answer she could have said. The confused looks the men gave each other made you grateful for a fleeting second. They didn’t understand your secret codes and languages. But they will soon.

Your jaw was clenched so hard that your teeth ached. You damn near cracked them. While your voice before was dripping with venom, it was now drowning in it. “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“Hex, I-”

You finally came over, nearly pushing the captain out of the way in your warpath. Through the screen, Kate could see how angry you were. Not just angry, furious. She steeled herself, ready for your onslaught of curses, stopping herself midway through her explanation. “I don’t do this shit, Kate! I work solo for a very particular fucking reason. And now you want me to work with four strange men?! Now you want me to play nice?! I’m not a fucking soldier that can just be ordered around!”

“I know! I know. . . But. . . we’re desperate. I’m desperate, Hex. Please, this is the last favor I will ever ask from you. This is an awful target we’re talking about. Someone that is better off in this world dead.”

“You mean Makarov, right? Why should I clean up your government’s fuck-up? Again, might I add.” You spat. You lived off the grid and weren’t a citizen of anywhere, but you still watched the news. You always knew what was going on in the world among other secrets. Makarov was a threat to the world, but as far as you were concerned, it wasn’t your problem. If anything, the government needed this lesson as a direct consequence of their negligence and incompetence. 

“Because Chalice.” She simply stated, knowing that her final word was a last ditch effort. Chalice was an agreement that you two had made long ago. It could only be used once in your lives, a truly desperate resort for help. If one of you uttered it, then the other would have no choice but to help, no matter the request. That was the law between your friendship, among other things. The other code words were favors, but this was the ultimate one. Life or death.

You considered punching the laptop in anger. Right at Kate’s face. You didn’t like her call for Athame or Chalice, but now you didn’t have a choice but to comply. It didn’t mean that you weren’t still furious though. “Fuck you, Kate.”

“Thank you, Hex.” She breathed a sigh of relief. She wanted to tell you more about what she needed from you, but she knew that you had to cool off first otherwise you would burst into flames. That would've made things harder for all of you. So, she nodded as a signal for dismissal which you gladly took. You retreated to your room, locking the door shut and basking in the darkness. 

You could feel the blood boil within you. It burned your insides and choked you. Grabbing your pillow, you pressed it against your face and screamed out your frustration. When that didn’t help, you punched the exposed logs of your cabin wall until your knuckles were splintered and bleeding.

~

Ghost sat on the couch, his thoughts swirling with uncertainty. The rest of the meeting with Laswell was brief, wanting them to try to decompress for the next several hours. Sleep, eat, process. All in the comfort of an assassin’s home. 

Compared to your personality, the cabin was decorated warmly. Everything was cozy, earthy, and fresh. The fire crackled comfortably, the plush couch was broken in, and every wooden piece of furniture looked hand-made. Bookshelves were filled with classic books and another shelf collected various music records. The only thing that seemed out of place was the lack of real personal mementos. No pictures, no art, not even knick-knacks. The others didn’t seem to notice or care as they picked through the food left in the kitchen. But for Simon, it left him uneasy.

He recalled the briefing before they were sent to the middle of nowhere to you. Kate said that you were an old friend of hers from high school. You have been friends ever since, but you were different than most people. You were a deadly assassin unknown by the world. No records, no pictures, not even a birth certificate. You handled delicate problems with grace and grave justice. You always worked alone, you didn’t trust others, and you were deadly. Everything about you was a secret until Kate made the crucial choice to ask for your help. Hell, they didn’t even know your call sign until Kate said it over the video call. 

“You should eat, Lt. There’s a lot of options, but they’re dwindling fast.” Soap patted him on the shoulder, awakening him from deep thought. Ghost looked up at the sergeant, watching him stuff a sandwich into his mouth. It looked like all the deli meat from one packet was in between the bread. No lettuce or tomato. 

“In a bit. I’m gonna talk to Hex real quick and ask some questions.” He replied and got up from the couch. 

Soap swallowed nervously. “Kate said that she’s gonna need time to cool off. . .”

“Our new member is part of the team now. She’s gonna have to get used to us even if she wants time for herself.” He justified it with a shrug of his shoulders. Soap shook his head and walked back into the kitchen, knowing that what Simon was about to do was most likely going to be a bad idea.

Ghost walked down the hall, observing each door as he passed them. Most of them were slightly open revealing extra bedrooms, an office, and a bathroom. Only two of them remained closed, both locked with keypads. For a second, he wondered which bedroom was yours before he could hear the sound of light music behind one of them along with swearing. It made him wonder what was behind the other door that was locked down.

Deciding to let it go for now, he approached your door and knocked. “Hex, open up.”

He heard you let out a frustrated groan before the door opened up. It was only just enough to see you, the pure darkness behind you, and the blood dripping down your fists. He crossed his arms over his broad chest and quirked a brow that you couldn’t see behind the mask. It didn’t take a genius to realize what you had done. “Are you done throwing a temper tantrum?”

You scowled at him, a fire in your eyes that made Simon’s heart skip a beat which confused him. He wasn’t afraid of you, so why would his heart alter its beat for you?

“If I knew that you were just going to insult me, I would’ve shot you dead on my porch.” You bitterly snapped, moving to close the door in his face. However, Ghost stopped it from slamming and took your hand in his, observing the damage you’ve done to yourself.

Your breath caught in your throat. Electricity ran through you at his touch. When was the last time someone has touched you? You attempted to pull back, but his hand firmly gripped yours. “Hey! What the fuck? Let go of me!”

“Calm down and let me see. It hurts, doesn’t it? Stings?” 

You narrowed your eyes, but eventually nodded. It did sting and the dripping blood already stained your carpet. However, you could take care of it yourself. You didn’t need some man coming in to try to fix you. “I’ll be fine. I can tend to it myself.”

“First aid in the bathroom?” He asked, seeming to ignore your clear hint that you wanted to be alone. 

Understanding that he probably wouldn’t drop this until he saw gauze around your knuckles, you headed to the hall bathroom with a huff, opened up the cabinet, and took out the first aid kit. You then took a seat at the edge of the tub and began patching yourself up. Every now and then you looked up towards the doorway, making sure that the skull man was watching you take care of yourself. Without his help. Without anyone’s help.

Finally, your hands were wrapped and the bleeding had stopped. You held up your hands towards him. “Happy now? Will you leave me alone now?”

“Hex.” Ghost simply said as a warning. God, you were infuriating. An attitude problem was something he would normally be able to snuff out immediately. He did it all the time when training new soldiers. Not you though. New soldiers were like little candles, easily blown out of their fire with just a breath. You? You were like a raging forest fire. One that clearly had its own traumas over years of service that the world may never know. 

You didn’t like how he studied you. How his eyes trained on you were a mix between hatred, curiosity, and something else that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. A magnetic pull that begged for you to look at him too. You also didn’t like how he was trying to treat you like one of his rookie soldiers. The only thing you wanted to do to make it all stop was to push him away. “Don’t talk to me like some new recruit straight out of school. I’ve already earned my place in the world with the amount of scars I have. So, don’t treat me like I’m under you. I won’t even let your captain talk to me like that.”

After putting the first aid back where it belonged, you attempted to leave the bathroom and retreat back to your bedroom. Yet, Ghost wasn’t giving up just yet. His hold body blocked the bathroom exit. He was tall, strong, and sturdy. It wasn’t hard for him to completely fill up the space. However, that didn’t intimidate you. You got up close, and looked straight into those icy blues. Even with the black warpaint, you could tell that his lashes were meant to be blonde. Some of the paint had flecked off revealing some true color. You wondered what the rest of his face looked like for a second. Just a second.

You stood your ground, engaging in a heated staring contest. It was like lightning crackling between the two of you. After a while though, Simon finally gave in and held his hand up like a handshake. “Lieutenant. They call me Ghost.” 

Hesitantly, you took his hand and firmly shook it, refusing to back down from a battle of wills. “Hex. That’s all you will know me by.”

Suddenly, he pulled you in closer, your chest almost touching his. On instinct, you pulled a knife from the waistband of your underwear. It was the one you took with you earlier for the showdown at the door. You held it to his neck, blade dipping in until you could feel the push back of skin. Ghost didn’t flinch or jump back at your defense. Instead, he whispered into your ear that he wanted to get close to in the first place. “As hard as you may try to fight it, you’re going to know me. And I’m going to know you.”

You bit back the shiver that went down your spine from the whisper, aching to slice his throat in retaliation. Chalice had you pinned, though. You had to avoid killing the people you are going to be working with at the very least. 

Ghost slowly backed up and headed back towards the kitchen for some food, leaving you to process what just happened. You silently walked back to your room without looking back at him, ears turning red and heart racing unnaturally. You didn’t want to give him any satisfaction by giving him any more attention. However, Simon was already somewhat satisfied. 

Yet, there was a part of him that wanted more.

Soap was eating a piece of lasagna when he walked in. Gaz and Price were quietly conversing at the other end of the island. It took a lot of food to fill up men like them. It wouldn’t take long for them to eat you out of your house and home unfortunately. 

“So, how did it go?” Soap nosely inquired. As Simon surveyed the food before picking out a tupperware full of stew, he shrugged casually.

“She almost sliced my head off.”

Soap suppressed a chuckle and did his best impersonation of Laswell. “Sounds like it went smoothly then.”

[drghostwrite]

Until my Last Breath

Okay so this one didn't win the vote but per special request by @maiveeetheone I’m going to write it! Hope you enjoy! xoxo

Pairing: Regina mills x pregnant!reader

TW: mentions of blood, almost miscarriage, kidnapping and minor torture.

Summary: Regina’s mother, Cora, returns and tries to turn her dark again but Y/N, her wife, has given her everything she’s ever wanted: true love, family, marriage, power and now a baby. What happens when she stands in the way of Cora’s sinister plans.

******************************************************** You sat across the conference room table as Regina conducted the meetings, it was for the town so Sheriff Swan, along with David and Snow, Mr. Gold, Regina the mayor, Zelena, a couple others and you, now you weren’t only married to the mayor and carrying her child but you helped run the hospital. You were Chief of surgeries after Dr. Whale had that taken away with the Daniel incident.

“So right now we’re using funds to help with remodeling of the school, so…” Regina was doing a funds recap and taking with Snow about what would need to be done and you started to drift off staring out the window. You ran your hand over your swollen bump feeling your baby kick and knowing that Regina’s voice was soothing to your unborn child even though she was talking finances for Storybrooke. You began to daydream about mornings where she would wake up with that slow morning growl, it made you feral for your wife and she knew it.

“Y/N…Y/N?” you heard her calling your name and it snapped you back to reality, back into the conference room with its white walls and black and white modern decor. Regina was looking at you amused, she could only imagine what had stolen your attention but had a good idea it was her and the baby.

“Oh yea, so as of right now we’re okay, we thought of possibly coordinating with the schools to give more volunteer opportunities to the kids, but we also have to discuss my leave, due to the Dr. Whale situation we’ll have to find a replacement for my maternity leave.”

“Well how about Zelena?” Regina asked, her relationship with her sister had grown tremendously, in fact that’s the only other person besides Emma and the Charmings that she’d trust with her life and family’s life.

“And what use would she be?” Asked the skeptical Mr. Gold.

“Well I mean she is a trained midwife.” Snow suggested.

“Because of a curse,” Emma reminded.

“And I’m a trauma surgeon because of the curse, Snow you’re a teacher even though it was a curse it created a version of us, a true version of us with all the training and skills," Regina watched you a grateful look in her eyes, “All I’m saying is that we give her a chance, I can set her up to assist Dr. Whale and keep him in check while I’m out and I can have Blue and the other fairies or nuns, whatever, check-in and help with outpatient care.”

Everyone exchanged looks and Regina mouthed a thank you, they then agreed that you were right and that’s the plan they’d go with. You discussed a few more minor things and then decided that it was time for everybody to go home after a long day, you stayed in the conference room until everyone was gone and then retreated to your office. You have an office at the hospital but it's in a secure part due to dealing with patients and HIPAA info so days like this Regina converted one of the old conference rooms into an office for you. It wasn't as big but she made sure to have the comfiest chairs and couches, it was decorated very modernly like her office with contrasts of vibrant forest green instead of the complete black and white, she had your favorite flowers on the desk, orange hibiscus flowers with a towering monstera plant in the corner both enchanted to never die. You had couches and chairs with a large rug on one side like her office and you had a bookshelf wall and a built-in mini-bar that quickly turned alcohol-free when you found out about the pregnancy, there was also a portion that pushed into a secret room like her vault allowing you to keep sensitive information. She wanted to make sure that you were comfortable, in your office and that it could be an escape for you considering what you did on a daily basis and the fact that she got to be closer to you during the workday, able to visit whenever and for whatever she wanted.

You finished some reports for the day and made your way down the hall to her office, you knocked and heard her call for you to come in. You walked in and before you could shut the door you felt arms wrap try and wrap around your waist but instead your bump blocked the little arms.

"Y/N!!!" you reached down and ruffled Henry's hair, and then ran a hand on his back looking up to make eye contact with Regina, she watched the interaction and her heart swelled, Henry loved you but he didn't take the idea of a third mom the easiest at first. Now don't get me wrong he was great and excited about a sibling but he had a hard time, with the whole new mom thing, he never called you mom he always said his mom's wife or your name, and he also wouldn't ever come to you either he went to Regina or right to Emma one time he even went to Snow before you knew. You wanted nothing more than to let him trust you so ever since the wedding you've been earning his trust, so it meant the world to Regina to see him so excited to see you and she knew it meant the world to you.

"Hey buddy, you have a good day?" you glanced down at him as he looked up at you.

"Yea we had a field trip today and then David offereed to take me to the stables to go riding."

"Oh really?" you smirked, looking back up to Regina as she just shook her head. "Well, then does my brave knight need me to drop him off?"

He laughed, "No, he's here, I just wanted to come in and see you before I went over, so I made him stop."

"Well in that case have fun, be safe, and take some pictures so I can brag to the nurses at work." you leaned down and kissed his hair as he hugged you tighter, he then ran back out of the office, but before the door closed you heard him yell back, "Bye, Moms!" You tuned looking at Regina, she got up walking over to you, a tear rolled down you face and she swiped it away letting her hand linger on your cheek and you leaned into the touch, she had her other hand holding yours running her fingers over your wedding ring.

"He really does love you." her coffee-brown orbs looked into your emerald green ones, as more tears ran down your face for her to swipe away.

You laughed, "God these pregnancy hormones are killing me."

“Darling, I…”, all the sudden you heard a crash outside, Regina turned and moved to the window. You held her hand in both of your as she reached to move the curtain.

“What the he…” that’s when she heard the moving of a cloud of smoke behind her and no longer felt the warmth of you hand, she spun on her heels and spotted the figure across the room.

“Mother? What’re you doing here?”

“Ahh sweet girl I’m here for you.”

“Where’s Y/N, What did you do with her?”

“You mean that peasant you call a wife,” she laughed at her daughter in front of her waving her off, “she’s in a safe place or at least it’s safe for a normal person, but not sure about her and the bastard child of yours.”

“No Mother that’s my wife and my baby, biologically both me and Y/N. She has more heart and passion and power then you’ll ever know and she loves me, truly loves me and Henry and I’ve never doubted her for a day, I LOVE her.”

“Oh darling you just live the idea of her.” Regina was done talking she whirled a fire ball, grabbing the spare dagger from the sheath attached under the desk, courtesy of you, and whirled it in that direction. She watched as smoke cleared and the dagger was no where to be found she prayed that she at least stunned her mother.

———time jump———

You were slumped forward and felt the restraints digging into your wrist and ankles as they were tied to the legs of the wooden chair. You were quickly jolted awake by Cora grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at her. Ugh, she let out a disgusted sigh and shoved you face away turning back, you watched as she walked out of the room into a smaller side room, looking around you realized you were in an older cabin, wait this was the cabin that’s hidden in the woods the enchanted cabin that… you heard heels coming towards you and turned your head, Maleficent and Cora both stood looking at you. Maleficent knelt down in front of you studying your features, she stared at your bump deciding whether or not to touch, as if it wasn’t real, you thrashed in the seat and she looked into your eyes, she ran a hand over your bump feeling your baby move.

“Cora, this is not the way to do this.” Maleficent spoke out but kept eyes trained on you as you gave her the smallest most gently terrified look you could.

“I decide how I do things, you’re just here for support on getting her back.”

“But her wife and unborn child?” Maleficent stood going to Cora.

“If they’re gone nothing will ever stop her from going back to dark and staying there.”

You started yelling into the gag and thrashing in the seat. Cora moved over to you and you felt as she slapped your face the sting of her fingers meeting your skin and the ringing in your ear her ring sliced into the skin of your cheek and you felt the blood run down, you knew you would have a black eye. She then grabbed the gag sliding it from your mouth.

“I swear if you lay a finger on Regina or my baby… so help me God.”

“Oh darling, I see why my daughter loves you.”

“My WIFE will be here before you know it and when she gets here nothing will stop her or me from destroying you!” You yelled at the woman in front of you. She bent down getting in your face, “nothing will stop me from getting my daughter back.”

“She’s not your little play toy anymore.” Again you felt a slap this time blood ran from you lip. You looked up and saw a shadow go by the window, Cora walked back over to Maleficent and retreated into the other room as you sat there hearing them argue. You watched as the shadows moved towards the door and then the door cracked, revealing Snow and Regina was right behind she pushed past the other woman and rushed to you, she ran her fingers over the cut on your lip.

“God what did she do to you?” Regina undid the restraints pulling you up into a hug.

“I’m okay…” you trailed, she pulled back placing a hand on your bump and running it over your large 8 month swollen stomach, “the baby too, we’re both okay.”

“Regina!” Snow yelled before being thrown against the wall by Cora, she used her body to shield you from her mother, taking her stand.

“My brave girl, protecting the mother of her child, but I ask who protects you, who truly keeps you from falling back into darkness.”

“I do.” You spoke up moving to stand next to her. Cora laughed out loud and Maleficent moved to check on Snow who was waking up, “Maleficent, what’re you doing?”

“This is wrong Cora.”

“And who are you to decide what is right and wrong, you destroyed villages and kingdoms with a single breath during your dragon days.”

“Mother my reign of terror and bloodshed is over, I’m never turning back.”

“Oh shut up stupid girl, I’ll show you terror.” She flicked her wrist and you felt a pain rip through your abdomen, it was so hard it brought you to your knees and you reached grabbing Regina’s arm as she turned to you.

“Oh God… Oh God the baby.” You let out a moan as tears started to fall, you felt the pain coming and going in waves, you looked down and saw a small stream of blood running down your leg.

“Mother, Stop!” Regina shouted and you watched as her magic collided with her mothers. You fell forward now on hands and knees as another pain tore through your body, you felt hands come around your sides and Snow tried getting you up.

“We need to get you out of here,” she let you lean into her and tried guiding you out the door. You reached a hand down brining it up coated in blood, again wincing in pain.

“But…but Regina,” you stuttered out in pain, letting out another moan. Maleficent placed a hand on your shoulder rubbing your arm as you tried breathing through it, “Let me save her for once you get out of here and get help before we have an injured Regina and a premature baby on our hands.” You looked into her eyes and saw she genuinely wanted to help, you slowly shook your head in agreement.

“Please get her back to me, please.”

She shook her head not breaking eye contact, “I promise, on my life.” Snow quickly turned taking you to the car as Maleficent threw her the keys,”I need to call Zelena we need to get you to the hospital.”

“No…” you struggled through another contraction.

“Y/N you’re in premature labor, there’s to much blood.”she tried reasoning with you.

“Snow if you take me all the way there…” you stopped breathing through another searing pain, letting out a low groan. “If we wait this baby won’t make it…God Snow… I won’t make it.” You said through gritted teeth.

“Okay just hold on.” You felt the car lurch forward as she pressed the gas harder.

She quickly rushed you back to the loft and called Emma filling her in, she reached over reassuring you again as you tried breathing in the passenger seat every wave coming stronger and faster. Once in the loft you were laid on Snow and David’s bed, Zelena and Emma quickly ran in the door, Zelena made her way to you. Seeing the blood on your thighs staining the white sheets red as you white knuckled the blankets, Snow brushing the sweat coated hair out of your face.

“What happened?”

“I…” you moaned, quickly being cut off by another pain.

“It was Cora she cast a spell and quick flick of her wrist and then Y/N was bent over in pain and the bleeding started.” She started to explain.

“Oh please don’t let her miscarry.” Snow said worrying.

“Don’t let me lose this baby.” You spoke out through another sharp pain.

“Labor?” Asked Emma looking to a very concentrated Zelena.

“Sort of, by the looks and sound of it mommy dearest used a pregnancy acceleration spell, if done right can work for mother and baby but if done wrong can cause a lot of problems.” Zelena explained, she lifted you shirt and felt your stomach pressing down in a few spots and releasing pressure as she felt the muscles tighten.

“Can you reverse if?” Snow asked concerned.

“I can I need to do it fast, and it will hurt like hell.”

“Will the baby be okay?”

“Y/N but you…” Snow started.

“Will the baby make it?!”

“Yes. I’m not sure the toll it will take on your body.” Zelena explained.

“I don’t care about me, you save this baby, whatever it takes you save my baby, our baby.” She slowly shook her head as you laid back against the pillows, Snow held your hand tightly understanding what could happen, Emma quickly gathered supplies and then came around to your other side, you felt Zelena swirl her hands on your bump, positioning them, you breathed through another pain.

“5 count?” She asked.

“Surprise me.” You let out a nervous breath as she nodded.

“Okay, 1…2…3…” she started before 5 not giving you much time to adjust, the last thing you heard was a bloodcurdling scream, realized it was you and then everything went black.

——— time jump———

You felt lips on your forehead and a hand holding yours, you felt tears as they landed on your hair. Slowly blinking open your eyes you realized it was your wife, she looked unscathed from events earlier. You quickly shot up on your elbows allowing the blanket to fall away revealing your bump, Regina was sitting next to the bed and laid an arm across you lap as you scooted up against the pillows resting her hand on your bump. You let out a small moan feeling the soreness in your muscles.

“Hey,” she spoke gently.

“What happened? Are you okay?” You slid your hand onto her cheek watching her eyes, she leaned into your hand.

“Well Zelena told me what happened, she told me though that you blacked out during the reversal spell.” She avoided the question.

“What happened with your mom?”

“Cora, I don’t consider her family after she went after you like that, Maleficent helped me and she pushed her back through a portal, she fell through with her though, I owe her my life.”

“Me too, how long was I out.”

“Two days, everyone has been asking about you.”

“Mmm, where’s Henry?” You rubbed at your eyes.

“With Emma and Snow and David they went out. Y/N I almost lost you, my love I’m so so sorry.” You watched as tears started to fall and you placed your hand back on her cheek, wiping tears with your thumb, she embraced the touch. You both let tears fall for a moment before she leaned forwards placing a kiss to your lips and then allowing you to lay your forehead against hers, “Y/N I will always fight for you, until I draw my last breath, I love you more than anything and I can’t wait to watch our family grow and I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

“Regina Mills you make me the happiest woman alive, don’t for a minute think that I’ll ever leave you, I love you, besides the ring is already on so it’s going to take a lot more than that to scare me away.” You both chuckled.

Zelena walked down the stairs and turned coming up to you and sitting at the edge of the bed, “So mama, looks like everything went okay, you’re gonna be sore for a little while, and as of yesterday you are officially on bedrest aside from coming in to visit.”

“Thank you Z, for everything.” You gave her a gentle smile.

“Don’t mention it just promise me that you’ll rest up and come back to show me the ropes before you have my niece or nephew.” She winked, patting your leg.

You heard the lock click and watched as the door swung open at first everyone moved in slowly until they saw you, they stood shocked until Henry came running around the corner and jumped on the bed hugging around your neck the best he could with your bump in the way. Zelena took her leave joining the others in the kitchen.

“Mama I thought I lost you!” You hugged him with one arm as tears rolled down your cheeks, Henry has never actually addressed you as mom before. You felt as Regina squeezed your hand and gave you a look, you closed you eyes living in the moment.

“Henry, love you’ll never lose me, I love you little man.” He wouldn’t let go of your neck and then you realized that he was crying, Regina reached around rubbing his back, “Baby it’s okay.” She reassured him.

“I…I…I just thought I lost you, I can…can’t lose both my m…moms, or my little sister I can’t wait to meet he…her” He said through sobs. You both smiled gently at him as he clung around your neck.

“Henry love what if you got a little brother?” Regina asked gently.

“No, I think it’s a girl.”

“Oh okay.” She chuckled looking at you as you held him and rubbed his back.

“I’d say someone agrees with that.” You let out a smirk, Regina looked at you hopeful.

“Really?” You nodded and she moved her hand down feeling as your baby kicked, a tear rolled down her cheek and she leaned up to kiss you.

“I wanna feel.” Henry said turning his head and placing a hand near Regina’s feeling the baby move. He let out a toothy grin making you both laugh at your sons reaction.

He pulled away but only to curl into your side holding Regina’s hand that was spread across your bump, he started talking to the baby, you sat there content knowing that no matter what you were all loved and that you finally had the family you always dreamed of.

[klunkcat]

Forget-Me-Nots

rise of the tmnt tags: hurt/comfort, post movie word count: 18.8k characters: mikey & leo, minor leo & don

Leo’s maybe not as alright as he would like to believe. It’s just that he’s been misremembering a lot of things, small sections of his brain just smoothed over somehow, missing all of the regular information.

It also just keeps happening.

read on ao3 here

This is a fic I wrote basically entirely for @goodlucktai so thank you as always my sun and moon for your constant inspiration <3 Turtle brain rot lives within me permanently and will never die probably

____

At the center of it all, Mikey doesn’t regret it. He knows how angry his family would be, has actually watched from the outside how devastating it is to lose any one of them for a single second— the four minutes and seven seconds after the Krang ship exploded and before he cracked open himself to drag his own portal into existence were their own swan song. He felt the way the world coalesced into a singular black hole of grief that felt impossible to move underneath. He knows this changes all of his family in awful ways, that it'll rewrite them all fundamentally, and the thought makes him want to scream and apologize immediately after his choice solidifies in front of him, but he can’t possibly bring himself to pick anything else all the same. It's not that this is different, but it also is entirely. 

He thinks the problem is, at its core, the fact that he refuses to regret it at all. 

Getting Leo back is an impossibility— Mikey reached through and pulled the millionth of a million chance through and made it possible anyways, because it’s Leo. Because it’s his big, stupid, self sacrificing older brother who never even asked them how they’d feel before diving off on his own. Because a world without Leo and his whip crack jokes and larger than life energy is one he can’t stand to be in a second longer than he already has. Mikey makes it possible, because there’s no other option he will accept. 

He can see it later, all the words Donnie used to describe the choices and paths he burns right out of reality, bright and bold against his skin; there are branches, there are branches of branches. Each one of them splinters up his hands and arms until he can find the one where Leo makes it back. It hurts, and even with Donnie and Raph at his sides, it almost doesn’t happen at all— in fact, there’s many times it doesn’t. 

Mikey’s not supposed to be able to do this, not yet— he can see the years he spends honing this in Casey’s world, all the time and training and drain it puts right on that intangible ball of fire that makes up all of them. There are so many worlds where he can’t figure it out in time at all, but Mikey blazes through those anyways. If he can change things he will, and he will change them again and again until everyone he loves is safe and fine and home. It takes a lot of tries. Maybe that should have been the first warning sign. 

It starts with tingling in his fingertips. Fuzz, somewhere just at the end of himself that by day two, when Leo is conscious enough to hold a conversation in Donnie’s med bay, he almost misses when it gets worse. The shocky feeling is just the adrenaline, probably he thinks. It had been a really intense few days. By the next morning, attempting to text Cassandra and watching his phone fall from his hands for the second time, it hits him that he can’t feel anything in his hands at all.

By lunch, it’s at his elbows, dinner at his shoulders. He realizes that there are whole conversations skipping past; he’s awake and then he’s in bed, then he’s standing alone in the kitchen and he thinks he maybe hasn’t moved in entire days somehow without participating in any single moment of it. His family won’t look at him directly unless he speaks— he realizes what this is, what the burnt out remains of all those worlds had left him with. 

He still can’t pretend he regrets it, even then. 

He should tell Dee, or Leo, or Raph— Dad, Casey Jr., Barry, anyone at all— it’s been too late for a long time already, he thinks. A thousand other worlds where Mikey hits the redo all going 180 on the freeway and smashing into one at hyper speed. He has told everyone, he hasn’t told anyone, he’s redone it all twenty, forty, one hundred, two thousand times— there’s one world where Leo makes it back okay, there’s only one where nothing else goes wrong, and it’s the one where Mikey can’t. 

(There’s a part of him that’s scared, he can admit it. The idea of never getting morning breakfasts, excited team hi-fives, late night living room sleepovers; a million never's of an infinite number of days he’ll never know, it’s enough to cave in the whole of his heart. It’s worse to imagine all those mornings without his big brother, knowing he could have tried.

Besides, he’s Hamato Michelangelo. He’s got a whole house of brothers who taught him about being brave. He’s learned from the best.

When Mikey was younger, his favorite place in the entire world had been the hammock Leo strung up in their shared bedroom. It had been ratty in the way that made it feel extra soft, wide enough to fit all four of them if they curled up. Mikey would fall asleep half thrown across Raph’s shell, arm outstretched to wrap his hand around Leo’s wrist. Don breathing slow and soft on Leo’s other side to lull him to sleep. 

Whenever things were stressful he’d imagine that— the warm cocoon that held his favorite people. The way the light from the hallway as Dad said his goodnight's would bleed through the blue-gray cloth and turn it red and purple and orange, too. The way childhood took time and stretched it out long and infinite, it felt untouchable. 

It’s harder to remember now. The warmth feels like grains of sand he keeps letting slip through his hands, no matter how hard he fights to keep it. 

Another moment he’s supposed to have. Another, and another.

Maybe it’s easier now with the choice already made to feel scared but, he’s somewhere outside himself in a timeline that doesn’t exist anymore and he’s alone. He’s realizing, curled up on the asteroid, floating through expanses of nothing, flickering through a thousand branches of timelines that can’t happen anymore because he broke them, that he’s not sure he’s ever actually been alone.)

It’s fine, is the thing, really. There’s a difference between the slow slide of your family being ripped out right from the center, and this slow blink into something else. They don’t even notice it happen. 

____

“Come on, Raph! It’s just a quick little trip around the corner. What’s the big deal?” 

Raph levels him with a look, it’s the highly specific and patented ‘exasperated older brother stare’ he perfected and should have patented when they were five years old. Typically, the look spells a whole lecture on the importance of respect and believing in the team or something else equally as heartfelt and long winded. The Leonardo flavor to it lately means the chasm in Raph’s forehead is particularly darkened and wearied with concern, and the most he seems to be able to bring himself to do is sigh. 

Leo’s not a fan of the way this whole thing shook them all so deeply, if he’s honest. The tentative way his brothers all lurk nearby has him vaguely itchy with concern right back at them. Besides, he is feeling better, really. Don gave him the all clear this morning to get out of the pseudo hospital bed he’d set up, with stern orders to use a crutch to manage his busted knee as much as possible. He’s a pro with the crutches already, he’ll have them all know. Maybe his back flip up to the second floor had landed a little awry, but he hadn’t fallen over. On his face, anyways. 

No one had seen it happen.

“Leo, Donnie said you were allowed to hang out in the living room. The living room in our house.” 

Leo waves his hand in the air. “Eh. What’s the difference really?” 

“About fifteen point four miles, actually.” Don pipes in, peeking around the corner. “Fifteen point three of those you are not allowed to walk.” 

His family — you gotta love ‘em, but sheesh. Overprotective could be their new motto. So a guy gets teleported to a prison dimension and nearly doesn’t make it out, people have had crazier summer vacations. They’re all acting like if he moves around too much he’ll collapse into a pile of dust on the spot.

He flops backwards on the couch with an over dramatic groan. “It’s boring in here!” 

“So read a comic then,” Raph says, still frowning but in a more pleasantly annoyed kind of way. “Or… learn how to knit. I don’t know— you’re not moving, tough luck.”

“You want me dead,” he says, unthinkingly to the ceiling. To his credit, it doesn’t even take the awkward pause or the tell tale sign of his twin shuffling his lab door closed to make him realize he shouldn’t have said it at all. It’s the type of joke they always make, but Leo still catches the hollowed out look of pain in Raph’s eyes even as he glances away. 

“Sorry,” he tries, just to have at least said it.

Raph shakes his head, swallowing roughly. “It’s cool, just. You— you went through a lot, Leo. At least try to rest, okay?” 

Fine. He sighs, overly loud just to be a pain and re-shift the vibes back into some modicum of the correct orbit. “House arrest. Unjust, I want my lawyer.” 

Raph’s eyes brighten, something less haggard falling away as he turns towards the kitchen. Bingo. “Yeah, yeah. Tell it to the judge.” 

“Where’s Dr. Delicate Touch when you need him, think he’s got a law degree under that PhD?” 

Leo leans back, casually stretching himself farther onto the couch with as much feigned grouchiness as he can muster. A flash of orange catches the corner of his eye— “Ah, Ang! Tell Raph I can totally hang out at April’s. He wants me to steal all of your comics, you know. He said I should go into your room and take all of them while you weren’t looking. I heard him!”

He’s half expecting Mikey to gasp dramatically, or play into it by breaking down into an over dramatic eulogy and demand an apology from their oldest brother. Their usual bit involves a lot of Leo siccing Mikey onto the others like a particularly emotionally lecture filled chihuahua, something that Mikey gleefully falls into. The silence surprises him, mostly he realizes because it doesn’t. 

He peeks one eye over the back of the couch.  

“Oh,” Mikey says, blinking at him like he just realized Leo was speaking. “Ha— good one.” 

His baby brother seems lost in thought, which is typically not a good sign for anyone involved in the Hamato household. Leo’s heart shifts sideways and funny, instinctive reactions buried deep. “Hey, you wanna ditch out and join me here on lockdown? We can watch your favorite cup stacking videos, if you want.” It’s a momentous offer, Leo hates those videos. 

Mikey sort of just… stands there for a moment. Shakes his head, and seems to process Leo’s words in real time. “Oh— no, that's okay. Sorry, I said I’d help April with her art project.” 

Leo humphs loudly, crossing his arms— or at least halfway crossing them, the bad one shrieks at his boldness and he leaves it alone after a moment. The intent is there, probably. “Fine, sure whatever. I’ll just rot here then.” 

Another long awkward pause follows, Mikey staying still, staring just left of Leo’s head. There’s a very quiet feeling in the back of Leo’s mind he can’t place. “Angelo?” He hedges. 

Mikey blinks up at him, expression shifting too quickly for Leo to catch before his million watt grin is back. “Sorry, what?”

Leo squints. “Okay, change of plans. You. Me. Sitting here all night. Re-runs. I’m putting you on baby brother jail duty, it's a very serious role. You have to pretend to keep me in line, and then when the moment strikes, bust me out and go on a wild goose chase halfway across town to restore our former glory.” 

It earns him a tiny giggle from his baby brother at least. “Maybe it’s better you take it easy, Leo,” Mikey adds in, patting his head only semi-patronizingly, to his credit. “Raphie’s just worried about you.” 

Ugh. “Ugh,” Leo says, for emphasis. He tosses an arm across his eyes. “Fine, I’ll just wither away here on this couch all alone while you’re out having fun, whatever.” 

“Naw,” Mikey says. “Never have too much fun without you, bro.” 

Leo frowns at Mikey’s back, as he ambles off towards the half pipe sort of aimlessly. The sudden burst of earnestness is not unwelcome, really, or all that surprising. Mikey and Raph have always been his most emotional brothers. The way Mikey says it is despondent in a way he doesn’t enjoy, though. Like he’s tired. No, more than that— there’s something to Mikey that seems absolutely exhausted from Leo’s vantage spot from the couch. 

His shoulders slump downwards, lacking all of the usual flip switch energy and crowing enthusiasm their baby brother carries with him like a cape. It makes Leo feel— bad, he thinks. Nervous.

Maybe it’s one of those things Raph said that he needs to consider. Charging off into a death portal on his own with a tearful goodbye? Might have been a step too far into traumatic for his babiest brother. Maybe all of his brothers need to work through it on their own a little. He knows Dee has been spending more of his time in his labs than usual lately, that he’s working on a thousand and five back up plans for any scenario remotely like this ever again— as if they stumble across multi-dimensional horror show a-holes every week. Raph has been training extra hard, channelling as much of his focus into some theoretical improvement as he has been with hovering around Leo in case he keels over and perishes or something. 

Mikey has been— actually, he’s not sure what the guy’s been up to. Hopefully art, or skateboarding, although seeing him now, Leo’s not sure he’s been doing much of either. 

“Hey, Mike?” He calls, and Mikey pauses halfway through the door. The sight makes him worry, somehow. 

Mikey turns instantly, “Yeah, Leo? Did you need something?” Like he’d come back in a heartbeat if Leo really needed him, cancel all of his plans and stay glued to his side like Leo kind of wants, embarrassingly. Like he's just waiting for Leo to ask. Maybe they all need to work through a little bit of something. 

He swallows, pauses. “Nah, I’m good. Tell Ape I say hi, okay?” 

Mikey smiles, “Sure thing, bro.” 

____

The days after the incident in New York had everyone tense — news outlets are afraid to talk about it directly, hesitantly breaking news of clean ups and building reports. Their web of distant contacts begins poking through day by day— Leo got a fairly heartwarming message from Hueso that tells him that his family is also at least partially included in whatever footage was retained from everything. It seemed like most of New York has grouped them in the aliens category, and summarily proclaimed them all ‘returned home’, so there’s no immediate danger at least. 

Their usual ragtag crowd of other local mutants seem to know exactly what happened, more or less, which has granted them some pause in their usual problem-dealing. Something something local heroes, supposedly. Hueso even gives him a coupon. 

Casey finds his way down to the lair, then up to an apartment that April helps him set up with her mom and Cassandra after that, and learns how to text painfully and awkwardly with emojis, much to Leo’s horror. Leo’s bruises fade from angry black whorls to yellow queasy splotches, Raph’s eye gets a full all clear from Donnie, and the world keeps turning. Albeit, with a very intense and serious lecture from Dad about Leo taking it easy, slash being grounded for the next month to launch it all into a particularly odd spin. 

He’s been grounded before, he knows that’s not what this is. 

The protectiveness makes sense, even though it chafes at him and makes him grouchy the longer it goes on. April cancels said regular movie night at her apartment and forcefully shoves everyone into their lair so Leo doesn’t have to move, and Dad’s grounding conveniently doesn’t extend to April either. Mikey bakes all his favorite foods constantly, making the kitchen glow with warm spices and sugars. Raph carefully leaves pamphlets on proper stretches out on the coffee table, and Leo’s favorite blanket is always freshly laundered. Don, in his brusque way, finds excuses to sit near him at night so Leo can fall asleep being surrounded by people he cares about. He can’t fault them for it, really. Maybe underneath the bravado and the sheer amount of ‘not thinking about it’ that he’s doing there is a part of him that craves the intense levels of attachment everyone is giving him.

It’s fine like this, he doesn’t want to leave them either. He almost did anyway. 

Before the Krang, before Casey Jr., before the Shredder, the most harrowing experience they’d dealt with was hibernation instincts, learning how to cook food properly. Heat and avoiding illness. The beauty of having a brainiac twin and a dad that had navigated the world of finances and income before everything else, meant that they hit the ground running early. Maybe they’d all been a little bit sheltered, in hindsight. 

Something about growing up with yourself and your family and your whole world in your pocket.  Maybe you start thinking that maybe the world can’t touch you either.

If they’d asked Leo, he’d have said it didn’t matter— turtle luck, true to form and all that. Sure, things had gotten real apocalyptic bad end for a second there, but nothing permanent happened. They’d saved the day, Leo was fine, Mikey had cracked some insane magical connection no one else in the world could do and Raph came back. 

Bruised, sure. Scared, absolutely. Fine all the same. Or at least, he figures it should be fine.

He can see it in their eyes no matter how relaxed he made sure he looked, no matter how loud he talked. The what if, hovering over everyone, waiting to drown the whole room if they let it. Maybe a few degrees off from fine, but whole.

The photograph he carried everywhere now was starting to bend a little, just the hint of a crease where his thumb had pinched it too hard in the middle of the night. Leo figures he understands how they feel, even if he didn’t live through it. Somewhere out there was a Leo that had for a moment been entirely alone. They have time to fix it now though, he figures. The rest will fall into place.

“Whatcha got there?” April leans over the couch towards him. Raph is dozing to the quiet credits of whatever movie they’d been watching — the name of it escapes him, it hadn’t been very good.  They'd all jumped on it because it was something Casey said he’d seen a poster of once, which then started a whole conversation about how he’d never even seen a TV show, and how movies stopped existing because there'd been so little electricity to even play them on, and that had been so sad they’d all bundled him on the couch together to put it on immediately. 

Casey is tucked under Raph’s arm, chin tilted down and sleeping quietly himself; Leo itches for a camera. Don must have wandered off, his blankets still spread out by the foot of the couch— if he squints he can see the blue light of the lab filtering under the door. The light feeling in his chest sinks at the sight. 

Leo turns the photo towards April. “Just a bunch of weird looking mugs and some handsome bald guy, you know how it is.” 

April scrubs her hand across his head. “We should get that framed. It’s a good one.” 

It is, he thinks. It’s perfect. They have a lot of selfies from over the years, mostly silly ones. Blurry Leo’s diving away from angry Donnie’s or prank evidence, or the few Dad keeps in his special binder he thinks none of them know about from when they were younger. They have so many he usually doesn’t even think about any of them in particular. Sometimes the thought of that makes him want to lock this picture in a box somewhere, bolt the door shut and lie down very still. 

“You’re just saying that cause you’re in the middle,” Leo jokes. April winks back at him. 

Looking down at the photo again, there’s a well of warmth bubbling through him he can’t name. His family, all in one piece, grown one puzzle portion larger with Casey lately— he fits, too. Like a space they hadn’t realized was missing. Him and Sunita and Cassandra, and, begrudgingly if Leo has to play nice, Barry he supposes too and— 

Leo frowns. The photo looks… off. Too much space on one side. He doesn’t remember being in the middle, actually, he’s pretty sure he was on the side— Did he bend it too far? He squints, moving his thumb. No, it’s just, off somehow. Like one of those newspaper games, spot the difference, except there’s a pit in his gut like something important happened. April’s expression slow glides into confusion, but Leo can’t even say what it is that’s wrong, only that there’s a portion of him that is suddenly and abruptly convinced that the picture he carried to hell and back is wrong— 

“Did either of you want some popcorn?” Mikey’s voice cuts in, shoving a brimming bowl towards them. “Raphie fell asleep before he could eat his. Well. I kinda hid it from him.” 

“Oh, thanks, Mike,” April bends forward happily.

Leo blinks back— no, the picture is fine. It’s fine, there’s everyone’s faces smiling back at him, not a thing out of place. He is in the middle, oh. He’s maybe more tired than he thought, is all. Jeeze. It is late, he reasons, and the painkillers Don’s been aggressively-minus-the-passively implying he will be hunted down for ever missing make him drowsier than usual. It’s that residual nightmare problem he’s been having, too; night time makes him jumpier, like he’s on a time limit to prove things are really here. Maybe the sleep aid’s Dee mentioned would be a good idea, he’s just afraid of not being able to force himself awake when the dreams take a turn. 

“Want some, Leo?” Mikey’s eyes shine in the TV light, reflective and almost full white with it making him look almost the full alien New York is convinced they all are. “I put extra butter on it for you.” 

“Thanks, buddy.” 

____

The dreams always start out the same. He’s not in the other dimension, not yet — he’s on the ship with his brothers. He’s watching Donnie take a hit, and calculating in split seconds the likelihood that any of them will get out of this at all with dread so violent in his chest it feels like the world is cracking in half in front of him. He knows— he knows, he knows. There’s only ever one choice to make, and he makes it.

Then, sometimes, the earpiece crackles to life. It’s his voice, it’s the Krangs, it’s Draxum’s and Shredder’s and everyone’s tangled together. He’s saying goodbye, but they aren’t through the portal yet— he’s miscalculated the odds and there’s no one on the other side of the line. 

He’s alone even before he’s actually alone, there’s no one to even say goodbye to. 

Or, someone doesn’t leave. Raph stays behind and he’s so overwhelmed with relief and gratefulness he almost misses watching the Krang skewer him directly before his eyes again. Donnie can’t get a block up at all, and the hit launches him faster than Raph can catch up. April’s there and she takes the hit instead. Someone else takes his place, someone else figures it out first and makes him stay behind. 

Or, he never left. He goes through the wormhole and Casey closes it and no one ever finds him at all. Because he made it up, because he’s still there. 

One night he wakes up, and he doesn’t remember how they got him back in the first place. 

___

“Hey, Leo. You want to try running through some training today?” Raph leans across the hallway — Leo’s been itching to move, to do anything. His injuries have all but healed up, the concussion tucked nicely away; despite Donnie’s stern insistence otherwise, he’s got a clean bill of health. He practically leaps to his feet at the words and very aggressively ignores the immediate head rush that follows. He's been sitting around for far too long, honestly, he's determined not to lose an ounce of his usual pizzazz.

“So I can kick your butt, you mean?” 

Raph snorts. “That’s the kind of big talk I like to hear. Just easy ones today though, okay? Butt kicking is a next-month kind of goal.”

“Come on, Raph, I can wipe the floor with you any day.” 

“Uh-huh.” The silence that follows is biting, touché big brother. 

“I can! Few weeks off isn’t enough to unsizzle this sizzle.” 

“Another wholly scathing comment battle where we all remain interestingly unscathed, I see.” Don slinks from the kitchen to the living room, typing furiously at his wrist the whole time. 

Perfect, Leo thinks. Everyone together, the absolute ideal way to burn off the wildfire forming under his skin. Get two birds with one stone in making sure they’re all okay just the same way they’ll be nervously poking at him— turnabout is fair play and whatever, but he’s just as worried back. Everyone’s been… odd, since the Krang. He just wants it to feel right again for a few seconds.

“You too, Donnie. Get your gear, let's make this a full on Leo power hour special. My portalling is even better now; while I’ve been sitting around watching Jupiter Jim reruns I got some crazy ideas. I'll have you know it’s ripe with cosmic…. Idea making. Juice.” 

“Are we just making sounds? Is that what this is? These are just sounds you’re making.” 

“Oh come on, as if I can’t take both of you with one arm behind my back.” 

Don rolls his eyes, making a show of crossing his arms. It’s nice, actually. They’d all been too raw with nerves to be snarky or throw any barbs around. Sass from Donald is basically a gleaming thumbs up for ‘things are actually okay’, so maybe everyone will get the hint too. “Maybe I should check if you have a fever, you’re acting…. Oh that’s right, entirely delusional is a personality trait of yours.” 

“Hoo hoo! Fighting words, I see how it is, ‘Tello. Let’s make it a full bet then, three on one. Where is Micheal anyway—” 

He pauses— Mikey stares at him from the railing, kicking his feet happily from the ledge. Right, because he’d been there the whole time. Duh. No one else seems to blink either— maybe Mikey had done some practising while he was out of it. Really honing in on that mystic warrior side, kudos to him, really. 

“Hey, you wanna help me prove a point to these bozos?” 

He grins, the same way he always does. “Can I be on your team?”

Leo makes a show of rolling his eyes with a sigh. “Man, harshing my whole solo hero against all odds shtick there Michael, but yeah I guess.” As if he’d ever really been able to say no to those big green eyes. 

Leo shakes his head. Blue. Mikey’s eyes are blue. Of course they are— they’re gleaming and bright in the photograph he carries right over his heart, he’s looked at them nearly every day for his whole life. Silly. 

Maybe training today is not up there with one of his better ideas actually, but he’d rather volunteer to do Dad’s laundry than admit that now. 

“You sure you’re up for it?” Mikey asks, and Leo does not jump— he does not— but does feel his heart rocket directly into his teeth as his brother appears suddenly beside him. 

Leo clicks his tongue, playing his sudden jumpiness off and waving his hand dismissively. “Up for what? A nice easy warm up where we absolutely show these clowns up? Sure, afterwards we can get ice cream from that place you like, easy peasy.” 

“Ice cream?” Don cuts in with a snort. “You want to deal with that inevitable explosion, be my guest. More of a punishment than a reward, though, I’d say.” 

“Yeah, Leo,” Raph tilts his head, losing some of his easy playfulness. “Kind of cruel to throw that in his face.” 

“Huh?” He whirls towards them both. “Cruel? Me? What’s wrong with ice cream?” 

Mikey huffs. “You know I can’t have dairy.” 

What? No, Leo definitely wouldn’t have missed that big of a development, no matter how whacked out he’d been— Mike’s favorite place in the world outside of the pizza parlors was the ice cream shop by April’s that sold absolutely unhinged combinations of flavors. They went there all the time after practice, it was their together thing. Leo once chugged a whole twenty dollars worth of pickle flavored ice cream milkshake just to make Mikey laugh and— hadn’t he? Or….

Leo frowns to himself. “Right.” He shakes his head again, squinting at Mikey. “Doi, I was saying… Mikey’s shop, you know. The candy place you like. Jeeze. Can’t talk today.”

Mikey brightens up instantly, “Ooh, can we get the big jawbreaker this time?” 

“Course,” Leo nods, trying not to frown. “I’ll buy you the biggest one if you want.” 

He has the strangest feeling about this, like deja vu. Two of him walking in the same fun house mirror paths at once. Mikey skips ahead towards the training room and something— there’s something off— 

“You sure you’re up for it?” Raph interrupts, placing a hand on his shoulder as he approaches. The Raph Chasm is back, great. “You look a little pale, bro.” 

Don leans in also, tapping even more intensely on his wrist tablet. “Seems fine. Temperature is normal, no signs of reopened injury. Heart rate is a little elevated—” 

“Dude,” Leo gapes at him. “Did you— did you chip me again?”

___

His dreams get weirder as the days go on. He figures it’s something to do with his brain trying to settle in, like it’s run out of plausible events and has to start throwing weirder and weirder potentials in the mix just to be sure.

He’s in the prison dimension now when it starts. He’s there, and he’s holding onto his photo, and the Krang Leader is approaching with shockwave levels of thunderous rage. It always goes the same: 

Leo is cornered, he’s alone. He’s waiting for the next hit, the next punch. He can’t remember if this is real, he can’t remember if he leaves. He knows he’s alone, he thinks it might be forever. Then, the Krang vanishes— he looks around, and he’s on a rock in the dark, an unthinkable distance from home. 

No Krang, no family. Miles and miles of scrapyard wasteland space, and nothing but himself. It’s somehow worse, this way. 

Then, sometimes it shifts. His brothers are all there, god— his brothers are all here. Sometimes it’s Dad, and he’s trying to take all the hits himself. Once, Casey. It’s terrifying to be alone but he always hates those ones, the ones where he somehow drags everyone else down here with him. 

The worst one is when it’s Mikey. He must have taken the hit from the Krang himself, he’s banged up and barely moving— smiling at him behind a swollen eye. 

“It’s okay,” He says in this one, it’s the only one where anyone talks. “It’s going to be okay, Leo.” 

___

Leo’s maybe not as alright as he would like to believe. It’s hard to think of the shape of whatever it is, let alone admit directly; he’s forgetting things, is the sum of it. He forgot where Donny’s new second lab was the other day, unthinkingly walking directly in with a question he’d instantly forgotten and nearly set off the project Don was working on. He forgot that Raph has a new motorcycle, and that he drives it around most nights after dinner and that he doesn’t spend a lot of time at home. He forgot that really, he’s the only one that watches Jupiter Jim, and wrestling, and they haven’t gone topside together in ages.

It also just keeps happening. 

“Are you coming over?” He says, breathlessly into his cell propped up with his shoulder. The stack of pizza boxes he's carrying sway dangerously as he leaps down another sewer grate. 

“For what purpose?” Cassandra’s voice rings back. 

Leo shoves the latch for the lair with his foot. “You know, the big Re-re launch of the Luo Jitsu: Stars in Five Separate Dimensions, the game the movie the game the sequel. Duh.” 

“Do not ‘duh’ at me when you are speaking entire nonsense.” 

Leo laughs, rolling his eyes. Cassandra’s brand of humor has taken on a new thread with her division from the Foot. She’s apparently going to mechanic classes now, and sass lessons if these conversations have anything to say for it. “Nonsense, she says. Fifth biggest Lou Jistsu fan I know, and she’s pretending not to know about the largest night of the past two years. Sure.” 

The pause throws him off. He can hear her brain whirling across the line. “Are you referring to the biggest gaming night of the year when the new hockey immersive VR game becomes legal to play in four states? That’s next month.” 

“What— No,” he pulls his phone away from his face in disgust. Yes, it’s Cassandra’s icon, and her voice but honestly, this could be a bodysnatchers moment. He’s had weirder weekends.

“Then no, I do not know what you speak of. Should you like me to come over and resoundingly beat you into a pulp over video games, I accept.” 

“I—” Leo’s brain… skips. Resetting. Another thought lines up neatly in the space between. “Right. Yeah, I — man I don’t know what I’m talking about. Just come over and play Mario Kart or something fun. I have pizza.” 

“I don’t mean to alarm you, but you usually have pizza,” She says, because snark lessons are working over time apparently, and hangs up. 

He’s positive for a long moment that he’s dreaming— that’s what gets him. The line between the skipping do-over dreams and these blips of forgetting are getting more and more unclear. He’s in space and he’s alone, and then he’s awake and Donnie’s new invention is in the living room, and he remembers that they don’t use it for a whole lot these days anyways. He’s with the Krang and he hurts and then he’s awake and his brothers aren’t around and it hurts anyways. He doesn't remember home being so cold, but it is and it's real and maybe Leo's just losing his mind.

It’s just that he’s been misremembering a lot of things, small sections of his brain just smoothed over somehow, missing all of the regular information. He wants to tell Donnie, he should tell Don, it just— it seems like a much larger deal than he knows his genius twin could possibly actually deal with. He might be an honorary MENSA member, but he’s not a brain surgeon at the end of the day; it’s easier to go along with things when he can, until he can’t. 

It’s not even clear why he doesn’t remember, he didn’t get that bad of a concussion during the Krang events— most of the punching had been to his sides and chest actually. He’d been totally fine the first few weeks. It’s like a slow settling poison, whatever this is. He’s partially convinced himself it’s just a lack of sleep, or that he’s missing some sort of key vitamin; he really needs to start eating genuine meals instead of boxed things, honestly. He can’t tell Donnie, because if it is his brain he knows Donnie can’t fix it. He won’t do that to him until he has to. It’s his problem, anyways— it never seems to be about anything major at least. He’d caught himself nearly calling April over to the lair, as if she’d ever been over to their new place after the old one was destroyed. He remembers there wasn’t an old lair, April just hasn’t ever come over. He sets up too many chairs for game nights and no one shows up, because some part of him forgot that they hadn’t hosted a family night since he was six. 

Through it all, there’s a constant ever-lying thrum he can’t name.

“Hey, uh, Dad?” Leo calls, stepping into the living room. He’s shuffled the pizzas off into the kitchen, and remembered that it’ll really just be him and Cassandra probably. Again, evidently. Don is doing something in the lab, his old one downstairs, and made it clear after Leo’s last interruption he had to be invited first— a rule they’d never had before. Leo had always been able to tromp through his twins space as easy as breathing. Raph is out, as he is most nights. The lair is quieter, the thrumming so loud he can hardly think. 

“Hm, Blue? What is it— oh, did you want the TV for something?” 

Leo shakes his head, hovering awkwardly beside the couch and tapping his foot with anxious energy he doesn’t even understand why he feels. This is a bad idea, he thinks. The thrumming is prickling at him like knives pressed outwards, though, and if he doesn’t tell someone he thinks he might snap entirely down the center of himself anyways. It’s still a bad idea, it’s the only idea he has. 

“Can I talk to you, about ah— something?” 

He winces at his own words, and watches Splinter shift, expression dropping serious and worried all at once. He turns the TV off and pats the space beside him on the couch. “What is it, my son.” 

Shell, he hates this. Either Dad will think he’s insane or immediately tell Don anyways and none of it will matter. He bites his lip. “I just— I’m worried about Raph,” he ends up saying. 

Dad blinks, his face twitches into something more thoughtful. “I do not know what he does being out so late every night, but I’m sure he is safe.” 

Leo nods, pulling at loose thread on the blanket throw. “Course, yeah. I mean, that guy is the biggest worrywart I know, it’s just— do you, uh. Do you remember if he always… went out so late?” Leo doesn’t. Leo has been told it’s what Raph does and stared at as though he was the one out of touch until he found himself nervously playing along, but he doesn’t remember knowing any version of Raph that would leave so often. Any Raph that acted like couldn’t stand one more second of being around his family. 

Understanding flickers across Splinter’s face, his ears drop. For a moment, Leo’s overeager heart soars. 

“Ah, I see,” Splinter says, patting his hand. “You miss your big brother, is that it?” 

“I— well, yeah, sure, but—” Splinter clicks his tongue at him affectionately. 

“It is okay to miss Red, I miss him too. And Purple, when he’s locked away in his room. And you, when you’re too focused on your training.” 

He knows, he knows, it’s just that it doesn’t change even when they’re here in front of him. It’s like they don’t fit now, and he doesn’t understand why. 

“Blue, families can change and grow with time, sometimes the changing leads them to… wild new things like motorcycles and teenage rebellion,” Splinter continues, and Leo hears it, the softness he uses when he’s imparting parenting wisdom, and the brakes can’t be stopped so— “Red still loves you, he’s still your family.” He catches something in Leo’s face despite his own attempts to school it, and his dark eyes flicker for a moment. “Is this…about the Krang?” 

Crud. Leo twists his face up to stop from doing something stupid like sniffling. “No. That was so long ago now, pshaw. Anyways, I know, obviously, I’m Raph’s favorite. Nice to hear anyways, though.” 

Splinter chuckles, patting his hand again. “You know that he loves all of you the same. And so do I, Blue.” 

“I don’t— yeah, I know—” There’s no point, he can’t do it. Leo sighs. “I just— can you talk to him? About not staying out so much? We used to, yanno, have movie nights and stuff is all.” 

Splinter hums, tapping his chin. “Schedule your movie nights at April’s so I get the big TV and you have a deal.” 

Leo forces a laugh. Do they even hang out with April like that anymore? Imagining a world where they don’t is awful, inherently cold and empty in a way he immediately doesn’t care to allow. “Sure.” 

There’s a pause, the thrumming is still there— the moment’s passed though, he’d only make Splinter worry more. 

“You know, this place used to be filled with a lot more… laughter,” Splinter says, after a moment. “I will talk to your brother.” 

“Okay,” Leo says in a breath. There’s something there, almost. If Raph can spend more time at home, maybe they can drag Don out, too. Maybe it’ll feel right, and he can let it go and stop checking the front door, and maybe his brain will start working so he doesn’t have to put all that weight on his twin brother anyways.

The almost’s never seem to make it anymore, though.

___

It starts to really hit him a few days later. 

“--earned it from you, big bro.” 

‘You can’t do this’ He threw himself forward but there was that flicker again, the sideways pull and he was alone on the rock where the Krang threw him except it was just him and— 

‘I have to, I’m sorry. You keep leaving,,’ and it sounded like a plea, like a cry for help disguised as a big brave step forward, and everything in him coalesced forwards like he’d only ever known how to do just that. Like he’d only always known how to bend and soften at that voice, like it broke every part of himself just to hear it wavering like this. 

He wakes up from a dream and he can’t remember it; there are tears pouring from his eyes and this big hiccuping sob lodged somewhere behind it, and he can feel it— the heart shaped puzzle piece that’s been scoured right out of his chest, an essential part, something he can’t be without, but he can’t even remember what it looked like. 

You don’t, he thinks. You don’t have to. Just let it be me, I chose it already anyways. You can’t take that away.

‘I can!’ it echoes off the nothing around them, off the something because they’re in the air again, and everyone else was pushed off but the two of them, and he’s holding the totem to lock the door and he’s listening to the broken comms on the other side. ‘Look at me, it’s okay. I’m the only one who can. And— and it’s okay. Because you’ll all just forget, so it’ll be okay. You won’t miss me—’

Of course I will. He’s angry, he’s furious and desperate, he’s not sure anything he says is reaching anything at all but he’s more certain of anything that it has to. I’ll miss you more than anything. 

‘I’ve already changed it, you can’t stop it. I just— I wanted to say—’ 

There should be alarms, he thinks distantly, panic and dread and grief white hot behind his teeth. Blaring red alert rolling alarms, because the world had ended and none of them were moving fast enough, and he was just going to forget again when he— 

“Oh god,” Leo gasps, throwing himself off his bed— catching his feet messily in the absolute tangle of sheets and crashing to the ground instead. His hands are trembling, there’s a pained animalistic noise tearing itself somewhere in his ribs because the thrumming has become a black hole in his gut. He’s nauseous in the same way he feels entirely gutted, devastated all the way through to his center and he needs to get to the bathroom, to Donnie, to anyone— 

He feels like the floor has just vacuumed itself through an airlock and there isn’t enough air anywhere at all in the world, and he can’t remember why. 

“--eo, what are you…? I swear to— Leo!” 

He has his hands pressed tight against his neck, he can feel his own heartbeat absolutely rabbitting underneath but it’s real. He can feel it and it’s real. He’s here, at least— if that matters. He can’t remember if it matters. The pain hasn’t gone anywhere even with Donnie in the room, like it usually does. Because there’s nowhere else for it to go, he thinks nonsensically. It’s gone, the place it goes is gone. 

“Dee,” he gasps out, pleading for…for nothing, really. For anything. 

“I got you, Nardo,” Donnie’s voice is closer, his hands are hovering nervously around the heaving galloping black hole that is all of Leo before settling on his shoulders. “Up we go, okay? Just, breathe. In and out, follow me.”  He pulls up a diagram, an unfolding square that refolds, breathing exaggeratedly along with it. Leo tries to wrangle himself into himself, feel around the pit of nothing in his chest, breathe long enough to chase away the gray in his vision at least. It feels pointless, breathing through a straw at the end of the world— he can’t possibly keep his heart beating one more second, but it does, and then it does again. 

“That’s it,” Donnie says, his hand rubbing circles against Leo’s neck. “Better, okay. Keep doing that.” He sounds anxious, tense in the ice cold–locked up way he gets. Leo’s chest aches. “You’re not running a fever, no proximity alarms were tripped so— bad dream?”

The cataclysm in his heart is stilling, like it’s being put to sleep more and more with every word. Every realignment of real and not real— part of him is terrified by this, like it wants to scramble it back. Leo shakes his head, still wheezing. Nods after a moment. Pauses, and embarrassingly bursts into tears again in spite of himself. 

“Woah! Woah, okay, okay. Got it, no questions. You’re fine, you don’t have to tell me.” 

He holds his hand out— it’s something they used to do, when they were little. Don had learned something about otters holding hands when they slept so they wouldn’t drift off, and Leo had gotten it in his head that since they were in a sewer, it was possible they’d float away at night too. He’d held Don’s hand every night until they all split off into their own separate rooms when they got older, palm to palm, holding onto Don’s wrist. Even after they had their own beds, Don would sneak in if he felt like Leo wasn’t sleeping good; they haven’t needed to in years. 

Leo latches himself onto his brother's hand like a lifeline. This is real too, he tells himself. It makes the horrified part of him wail with something like grief anyways.

“Okay, alright Leon. I’m not going anywhere, okay? Breathe.” 

Leo tries to hold each breath like water in his hands, imagine himself filling up that space inside him. The idea is so instantly horrendous, a murky swirling bog where something was— he doesn’t know why— it chokes him into another sobbing fit for a moment. “Sorry, jeez— jeeze. I’m sorry, ugh.” 

He can practically hear Don’s eye roll. “Can we get up off the floor now?” 

Leo nods, shakily. He grips Don’s wrist even harder, but lets himself be dragged back into bed. 

“Want some water?” Don asks; Leo stares down at their joined hands and feels a spike of panic in him. It must trip something on Don’s weird chip, he glances down at the screen. “Ohhkay. Nope, nixing that plan, sure. We can just dehydrate.” 

“Sorry,” Leo wheezes again. He knows Don is trying so hard right now, too, or he would have made some annoyed comment about hating unnecessary apologies. He stays silent, squeezing back just as hard. 

“Would you like to tell me what happened?” He asks, after a moment. 

Leo winces. 

“Or, I could invent some never before seen and heard of technology and just dive right into that awful little brain of yours and figure it out anyways, if you want.” 

Leo snorts. “You have that already. ‘S called being stuck with me.” 

“Hm. True. Doesn’t give me all the answers, though.” 

He wishes it would. Don’s brain could probably work out exactly what to do  in five seconds if he had the opportunity to mess around in Leo’s fuzzed out brain. Maybe that was the problem. Leo lets out a long breath, ducking his head to nudge against Don’s shoulder. 

“I think there’s something wrong with me,” he admits, to the space between them where their hands sit. 

“I will refrain from my default response of ‘beyond the usual’ or any other witty remark this one time, on the grounds that you’re kind of a mess right now. Know that I did think it for the record, though.” 

“Noted,” Leo smiles, waterlogged and wavering. 

Donnie shifts, pulling his free arm up around Leo’s shoulders. They fall silent for a second, just the wet and choked off sounds of Leo wrangling his own heart rate surrounding them. Don pulls him closer, a half hug. “You know. Whatever it is, I’ll fix it.” 

He squeezes his eyes shut, the ghost of that all consuming grief still wrapping itself around his throat. Donnie’s fixed everything since he was able to hold a screwdriver, his faith in his brother is as unshakeable as his understanding of cool action films, as his belief in his family. He knows his brother would try to fix it, and would get closer than anyone else possibly could. Maybe he’s not sure there is anything to fix.

“What if you can’t?” It comes out small. 

Donnie’s arm squeezes tighter, steel in his frame. “I will.” 

It’s nice, he thinks. To pretend like Don’s got all the answers. “I’m sorry I went through the wormhole,” He says instead. Sorry I almost left you, he says with the way he leans farther into Don’s side. 

Don lets out a sharp breath. “No, you’re not.”  He isn't wrong, Dee knows him best.

“I’m sorry that I’m not sorry, anyways.”

He can feel Don’s heart beating against his fingertips, can feel the sharp and bending curve of him at his side. Palm to palm so they don’t float apart— maybe Don’s grip is also tighter than usual. He can manage to feel bad about that, maybe, in spite of himself. 

“I’m used to it,” Don says, after another long moment. Subdued. As long as you come back. As long as you let me bring you back, he says with the squeeze of his hand, the way he won’t look at Leo at all. 

___

“Purple told me about your dream last night,” Dad says, looking worn and serious in a way that makes him look far older than Leo is comfortable with noticing. “Do you want to explain, Leonardo?”

They’re sitting around the kitchen table, and his head is in his hands staring down at the whorls in the wood. There’s a carving, he knows, just to his elbow that he and Raph had put there when they were kids, it’s just that for a moment he could have sworn that it wasn’t from Raph at all. He’d been lost staring at the cupboard for a moment with a dark, inkblot feeling around his throat until Dad had startled him out of it, looking at their old favorite mugs. He doesn’t remember his being any of these. He’s certain, for a moment, that his had been a hand painted one, lopsided by the handle. He can’t find it anywhere, though. 

He’d asked Dad when they’d thrown it out, and gotten a blank stare in return. 

‘The… the splotchy one,’ he’d said, panic lacing in behind his eyeballs with its intensity. ‘You know. I always drink tea from it with you.’ 

Splinter shakes his head slowly. ‘I am… sorry my son.’ 

A hysterical laugh frayed at his throat, he’d lost the fight in shoving it back down. ‘There’s a smiley face on the side by my thumb, you know. Don said it was ugly and we got into a big fight when we were like ten. I drink out of that mug every day, because it—’ He couldn’t remember where that sentence was going suddenly, like the words scooped themselves directly from his lungs. Evaporated. ‘I… I know it is. Where did you put it? Did— if Raph broke it, that’s okay, I can fix it.’ 

‘You’ve only ever used this mug, Blue,’ Dad had said, holding an Eeyore mug. Leo feels his mind snap in three places, reconnect. It’s slower this time, more painful. Maybe that’s him, breaking. 

‘Right,’ Leo laughed, squeaky and high. ‘Sorry.’ 

“They’re just dreams.” He says, like it burns on the way out. “I’m just not sleeping well.” 

“He’s been waking up every few hours,” Don throws in, because of course he’s been tracking that, too.

“Hey—” he tries, and catches Raph’s serious, unhappy face as he lifts his head. The way he looks frailer around the edges, exhausted the same way Leo is. Oh.

Raph sighs. “He’s jumpy. Confused. I thought…” He makes eye contact with Leo and looks away. “I thought maybe the Krang incident rattled him, was all. But it’s been months,” 

“My son,” Dad adds, before Leo can process any of that. “Why did you not tell me?” 

Shell, he thinks. Shit, for emphasis. “It’s just bad dreams,” he shrugs. “What’s there to tell?” 

Don snorts, crossing his arms. “Just bad dreams he says, as though regular disruption to your REM cycle bears no long term effects like, say, spacing out. Forgetting where my lab is. Dialing the wrong number when trying to reach me, your twin brother who literally programmed your phone.” Oh, right, yeah. He had done that. 

Burying his face in his arms seems like the best approach to all of this. The gnawing thrum is back, wilder like a firestorm in the back of his mind— it seems to get louder when he’s aware of it, he’s not sure what that means. 

“Leo,” Raph’s voice is tired, too. Why is everyone so tired? “You can talk to us, you know that right? We just want to make sure you’re okay.” 

“Stop being so,” Leo struggles to find a word in between burying his forehead father into his arms. “Reasonable. Ugh.” 

Splinter pats at his arm, comfortingly. He debates the merits of coming clean, then of feigning a sudden illness, or playing up some hidden head injury that miraculously resolves itself before Don can pull out any of his scarier tech. A wave of exhaustion pulls at him. “I’ll fix it,” Donnie had said. Maybe it’s embarrassing to want to believe anyone can fix this at all, but it’s his family, and this is the most he’s seen them in months and despite what everyone tells him, he doesn’t remember a time things were like this at all. He doesn’t remember a version of himself that would have been content to let it happen. 

There’s something there. An invisible wall he’s walking into while everyone else skirts around it. If only he didn’t keep forgetting what he was dreaming about— he lets out a long, long breath, dropping his head even lower until his brow presses into the wood directly. 

“I’m. Forgetting things.” He mumbles to it, shoulders high around his head. The silence that follows is long enough he almost thinks they didn’t hear him at all. 

Don clears his throat first. “Forgetting… what.” He sounds ominous, tight laced. Exactly what Leo was afraid of. He scrunches up his beak in response. 

“Everything. You, Raph— I don’t remember why April hasn’t visited. Or, or where your lab is. Cassandra doesn’t care about Lou Jitsu games, no one watches Jupiter Jim. It’s all— I don’t know.” 

Dad takes in a breath, Leo can hear him consciously making sure to keep it measured and slow.  “Is this because of the Krang?” 

Leo shakes his head, digging further into the grooves of the tabletop. “No, I — I don’t know. Maybe? Everything was fine, and then. It wasn’t. It’s like I’m—” Missing something. It’s like there’s a big glaring neon sign directly in front of him that he can’t see, some obvious clue like a protagonist in a horror film that the audience is throwing popcorn at. 

“Do you…. Do you ever imagine there’s like. A memory that you had, but something happened, and then you lost it. And you don’t remember enough about it to know what it was, but it’s like part of you knows that it's gone anyways?” He feels insane, he can’t look up at his brothers, he can only close his eyes and wish himself somewhere else where the black hole in him is quiet. “Sorry, that’s— I mean, maybe I am just tired. Just feels… different, lately. I keep looking at the front door like someone’s gunna walk in any second, isn’t that weird?” 

No one speaks, Leo sinks lower. 

What if whatever is wrong with him is contagious? What if saying it out loud is the thing that breaks this wide open on all of them. What if nothing happens at all, and it’s just Leo and his brain and some unknowable horrid thing wrong with him that makes him feel like half of himself is missing somewhere else. 

What if he’s right?

“You remember the other day, Raph? You said something about me reading comics, staying home from April’s and reading comics.”

“...Yeah.”

Leo digs his fingers into the back of his head. “I walked into Donnie’s lab because I couldn’t remember where the comics were, and it’s like I just, went through the door. Then— I mean, none of us own comics. Why did you say that?”

Raph starts, stops. “I… don’t remember.”

Don breathes, long and shaky. “I put a chip on you and Raph and Dad because I thought—” His voice is flat, quiet, and breaks neatly down the middle. Leo freezes, tenses on the spot. “I had this feeling. Like there was a problem I’d missed, like I hadn’t perfected something important. I drew all these schematics and they didn’t make sense— and I knew, they were for something specific, but I had no idea why or what. I have inventions I don’t remember making, too— I thought someone else left their things in my room but they all have my logo on them.”

“I asked April for tea,” Dad adds in, slow and confused. “Orange pekoe. I have never drank orange pekoe.” 

Don continues. “You told me you hate pro skateboarding the other day and I nearly vaporized you on the spot because I thought you were a clone. And then it was like, my brain just. Caught up. Remembered all these things that didn’t fit anymore.” 

Leo stares at the table, lifts his head up so sharply his vision swims, and stares at his brother. “Yeah. Yeah. Like, like you’re reading a new script.” 

Holy shit, he thinks. They all nod, slowly. 

“I thought it was me,” Leo says. 

Don shakes his head. “I’ve been doing tests. Measurements and scans— I can’t get a read on it so I haven’t brought it up yet.” He shrugs. “It’s… it’s weird, Leon. I don’t make measurement errors.” 

“But you have been,” Leo says, slowly. 

Don breathes out, heavily. 

“Your math,” Raph says, simply. Leo’s gaze shoots towards him; his big brother looks haggard, dark circles around his eyes that Leo hadn’t noticed before. “Donnie, your math. Why’s it always wrong?” He’s gripping the table top awfully tightly, Leo notices. White knuckled bone pressing upwards into the harsh kitchen lighting, like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. His big brother has always been unmovable, no matter what was thrown at them. He was okay, and would figure it out, and would help them brute force things back where they should be if they had to. He looks... small, suddenly. Just a kid.

“Woah, Raph, maybe you should take it easy for a second—” Leo starts. 

“Four,” Don cuts him off. He looks vaguely haunted as well now, eyes dark. “I keep dividing by four.” 

___

“I kept driving around at night to find someone, I was so sure they were in danger. Raph thought he was losing it,” Raph says, rubbing a hand across his eyes. 

“Me too,” Leo admits. “Thought Donnie was going to have to lobotomize me.” 

“Easy to do when you already are missing a brain,” Donnie mutters. They’ve moved down to the living room — invited Casey and Cassandra and April over, too. Draxum, despite Leo’s better judgment, is lurking somewhere in the kitchen area as well. Leo keeps holding Don’s hand, seemingly unable to stop now that the words are out there, and Don hasn’t asked him to let go yet either. 

Raph glances between them both, tense. “Stupid of me to not tell either of you. Should have known,” he offers with a weak smile. “We’re always in this together.” 

Leo shrugs, “Sounds like we all did the same thing. In my defense, I thought I was concussed.” 

“So,” April joins in, hesitantly. “You’ve all been… remembering things wrong, too? Because— I mean, you said that you were going to get Casey to guide me down here like I didn’t know the way, and then. I mean it was weird…” 

“Oh thank god,” Leo sags in relief. “You not having been here before was bothering me so much.” 

“And your dreams, Blue,” Dad cuts in, tucked up in his arm chair with a cup of steaming tea he hasn’t touched. He looks guilt ridden too, in a way Leo hates. “They’re not just about what happened?” 

“No, well. They are but. They… change? It’s like a hundred different versions of the same thing. Sometimes April’s there, or Casey, or no one is.” He shudders, a flash of some dream he had crossing his mind vaguely. “I can’t remember most of them anymore now, but it. I don’t know. I feel like. Something important happened, is that insane?” 

Casey looks at him searchingly, he always seems so heartbroken by all of their struggles in a way that makes Leo want to wrap him in bubble wrap until he’s 30. “Not more insane than anything else,” Casey says somberly. 

“Do we have, like, memory problems? In the future?”

Casey shakes his head. “Not that I know of. You all had stories about how things were that were pretty detailed. We had to memorize new map locations that came through pretty quickly, too.”

Everyone falls silent for a moment. April clears her throat. 

“And… and you think this is all happening, because…. Someone went missing.” 

Leo turns to look at Don— his brows are pulled so far down they’re basically a flat line, pinched in the middle as he works frantically on his laptop. It all looks like graphs and numbers to Leo. 

“I keep dividing by the wrong number.” He states, quietly. “There’s three of us, and yet I’m accounting for a fourth. It only happens when I’m not thinking about it, like—”

“Muscle memory,” Raph finishes. 

Leo looks out at everyone— there’s a reserved energy, like a thick fog of some kind of grief pulled down across them all. Maybe he’d expected someone to react like it was silly, make some kind of joke of things, maybe it would have helped make it feel less awful for it to be a big mass hallucination on their part. Leaky sewer pipe, or something. The severity is both aggravating and reassuring all in one. 

“I kept setting the table for five of us for dinner,” Leo says with a helpless shrug. 

Raph nods. “Our training sessions— we keep leaving our backs open, and I couldn’t figure out why. Like someone’s supposed to be there.” 

To imagine it is kind of devastating in pieces and wholes, Leo thinks. Someone so intrinsically a part of them, someone they worked around unthinkingly, just vanishing like that. Without even the courtesy of letting them mourn. Everyone stays silent for another long moment, that veil of grief is heavier— they don’t even know this person, someone that left a crater so large whatever bullshit vaporized their memory from all of their minds couldn’t even be lifted fully. Like the planet lost its axis without them, like they were constantly bumping into an outline of a person without even realizing. 

“How does that happen?” Leo’s own voice sneaks up on him, he hadn’t meant to speak. Or maybe he had. He’s angry, suddenly, like shakingly, virulently angry— big red neon light style. “No, seriously. How— they just get erased from our lives like that? Without anyone even seeing it?” How did we not notice, he thinks, desperately. “It was one of us, right?” Leo turns to Don, to Raph, to Dad. “Like, like a sibling? And we just… what, forgot them? How does that happen?” 

“Leo…” Raph tries, holding a hand out. There’s an anvil in Leo’s heart, it’s sinking so far down with every step further into this reality he’s forced to reconcile with. 

“No! I— Come on, we don’t even remember them. There’s nothing at all left behind, and yet, because whoever this was mattered so much we still felt it— and that just happens? How does that happen?” 

It shouldn’t, he thinks of forgetting any one of his family and feels like his atoms are misaligned. The idea that any one of them could just be stitched over, skipped like a video feed; his stomach churns dangerously.

A chair drags noisy across the tile, and everyone's attention snaps up. “There are legends,” Draxum starts. “Mystic connections to time and space itself.” He meets Leo’s eye levelly— there’s a catch in them, too, Leo realizes. He doesn’t know why Draxum is included in these events, he made them, sure but he’d also thrown Leo off a rooftop. He’d been antagonizing them for months, and he’d gotten defeated by the Shredder, and they’d all moved on. There’s a gap in his mind, between that Draxum and this one; no explanation for his place here today except for that he is. Because whoever this was that they lost, he mattered to Draxum too, didn’t he?

“If said person possessed enough power, they could feasibly stretch across both the folding dimensions, hypothetically.” 

Don gasps, an aborted noise. “Like… a hole in time.” 

Casey freezes, sitting up taller. 

Leo thinks about his dreams, about being trapped in the nothing and not believing he ever left. Not remembering what got him out at all. A voice telling him that everything would be okay.

“It would take a lot of power,” Draxum continues. “Possibly too much. To change one thread in the thousands like that, I imagine such a feat would be felt across the whole tapestry.” 

“Maybe it already has,” Leo says, detached. Thousands of possible realities, changing and pulling in a million different ways— Leo and the Krang standing on an asteroid, a hundred different outcomes flashing back and forth on a loop, over and over. Looking at his own front door and waiting for someone to come home, even with everyone he loves sitting directly in front of him.

The last dreams, the ones he doesn’t remember— waking up feeling like someone died in front of him. 

He stands up, sudden and sharp— wrenching his hand from Don’s without thinking. “How do we stop it. How do— how do we change it back.” 

Draxum meets his intensity with a cool stare, holding a teacup in his hands carefully. “There may not be. I’ve never heard of such a way.” 

Bullshit, Leo thinks— “If they brought Casey here, they did it again. To get me back. That’s two times, that shouldn’t be possible either, from what you’re saying. So— so just do it again.” He clenches his fist so hard it hurts. “No one remembers how I got out. I should have died in there, with the Krang, right? We closed the portal, so—  But I’m back, because whoever this is brought me back. That shouldn’t have been possible. So we punch a hole through time again.” No one moves, Cassandra keeps his stare levelly, gravely.  “If it takes more power, we have the strongest team the world’s ever seen right here, don’t we?”

Draxum arches a brow. “A lot of effort for someone you cannot recall, is it not? It might put you all at risk as well.” 

It doesn’t matter, Leo wants to say. They did it for me first. He doesn’t care if it’s painful or dangerous or anything else. All he knows is that there’s a gaping maw inside him that he can see now reflected in all of his family where this person is supposed to be. Someone who changed their three to four, someone that made them have half-memories about movie nights and laughter in the lair and someone he misses so badly without knowing that his entire soul feels like it’s hollowed out without them. 

“Maybe this person wanted to go,” Draxum, crosses his arms. “You’d give up so much for someone you don’t remember?”

‘I just— I wanted to say—’

“He’s my son,” Splinter speaks up fiercely, protectively. Everyone falls silent. Splinter falls backwards a step, having leapt to his full height out of seemingly instinctive rage. He looks surprised with himself, then— quietly grief stricken, the same time as Leo’s concaving chest collapses like a burnt out star. 

“Muscle memory,” Raph whispers, agonizingly. 

It echoes around the still room. The hallways seem more expansive in the face of it— a ghost exiting the stage with a rush of air, or one finally being noticed. 

He’s lived in these halls for his whole life, packed in with his three most favorite people in the world to get by the way only their family could. There’s a scuff on the stone just at knee height by the entrance from when he tried to land a backflip on skateboard and broke his arm, theres lines reaching up to just barely five feet around the corner from it. Three sets: red, purple, and blue. 

Maybe now, when he looks around, he’s starting to notice all the empty places. Leo feels like his heart is squeezing through his ribcage with how hard it aches.

Leo squares his shoulders, turns towards his family— there are tears in Casey’s eyes, Donnie has stopped typing frantically and seems to be staring at nothing on the floor. The realization is rocking through all of them in differing stages of devastation. 

“My brother,” He wavers, choking back a well of emotion. “My brother is out there. We’re getting him home.” 

___

“Your dreams are crucial for this to work,” Draxum says. “We’re going to use them as a door.” 

Leo takes the tea Dad makes for him and wills his hands not to shake. 

“Everyone else will focus on Leonardo, follow that thought to where he leads you.”

His last dream is only remnants in his mind, but he’s not sure he could go through it again anyways. Good thing they’re changing it this time then, he supposes. Raph sits cross legged in front of him, closing his eyes with a deep breath. Leo’s hit with the horrible thought of losing any of them the same way, waking up and forgetting they’d ever been here to begin with. His palms itch. 

“Hope we have enough juice in us to pull him back,” Leo jokes, weakly. 

Casey sits beside him, spine straight. He leans a little towards Leo, bumping their shoulders. “I… I don’t remember him, but he must have been there. There’s…. There’s holes if I think too hard. If he was anything like the rest of you, he’ll be fighting just as hard to get back.”

The idea of some vague outline of his brother, an amalgamation of the two beside him, running himself to pieces lost in the dark is hard to swallow also. Raph clears his throat. “Maybe he just needs a bit of a boost.” 

April nods, plopping beside Raph fixedly. “And that’s what we’re going to do.” 

Leo looks at Dad, who’s been quiet ever since the revelation hit them all. Dad shifts, placing a paw on Leo’s shoulder— he looks tired, pinched, like someone closed their eyes and drew him with wobbling outlines. Leo knows how he feels, it aches all the same. He puts his hand on top of Dad’s. 

“Yeah, we got this.” 

Leo drinks the tea and breathes out. It hits him fast — at first, he’s floating in the dark; the difference hits him funny, he doesn’t exactly remember any of the dreams but he knows they start before the fight ends. He knows they never begin with him being by himself. 

It reminds him of a time when they were younger, when Dad had to go scavenge for food and scraps alone and leave them behind with stern orders to stay put. They never really did, of course. 

There was a day where it had been storming up top, he remembers the way the pipes groaned and rushed with the rain like growling monsters in the stone walls, warped by all the empty tunnels and spaces in the shadows. Dad had left to grab food for the next few days, in case any of the pipes did burst as the storm went on or a tunnel threatened to collapse. He remembers that Dad hadn’t wanted to leave them at all, he’d been nervous and anxious and promised to be back in an hour at most. They’d all felt it, staying bundled up for the most part instead of ambling off their creaking furniture or stealing the two markers that were half dried up with use. 

Don had been hungry, he’d had a mild fever, Leo thinks— Don had caught every bug that meandered through the grates in those days, before he figured out which vitamins they were missing and how much sunlight they needed. He remembers the way Don shivered, tucked in at his side. Leo had decided he would be the one to make Donnie soup, despite Raph’s protests. He’d squirmed his way out of the blankets, and taken a few steps towards their makeshift kitchen before the thunder rocked miles above and rattled through every part of New York.

He remembers the way that the generator they siphoned had cut out when he made it through the doorway. 

It’s silly now, maybe— his brothers had been a few feet away, he was still in his house. He could hear Raph calling for him, the sound of his big brother fighting the blankets and Dee’s dazed mumbles and complaints with it. He knew even then that he wasn’t really in danger. It was just that Donnie had just showed him the otter videos, and the pipes were roaring at him, and he’d never actually been anywhere he felt scared at all before. 

There’d been approximately fifteen seconds before Raph crashed into him, another thirty minutes before Dad burst back into the lair and brought the flashlights out from the side drawer, and lit candles for them. Fifteen seconds for Leo to imagine that he was completely alone. 

A much older Leo, then, riding the adrenaline off saving the day— holding a photograph close to his chest, comms fizzling in his ear— 

He’s on the asteroid, ah. This is familiar. 

He’s always here in his mind— the Krang stalking towards him, the light of the ship's explosion dancing like fireworks in the distance. He holds the photograph in his hand, because he’s alone, he’s so alone, but it was worth it. The Krang approaches, tail flicking as it practically curves over him in rage. He’s okay with all of this, really, if it means— 

“Get away from him!” Raph yells, and suddenly there’s a streak of red crashing into the Krang, knocking it through the rock. A flash of purple, and Don’s battle shell appears beside him.

“Could you imagine something more relaxing next time? Like I dunno, a boiling pit of lava? This isn’t nearly terrifying enough.” Don’s hand hovers over his shoulder, like he’s not sure where to put it for a second. Leo grabs at his wrist, overcome by relief for a moment before the words hit. Right, imagine. Because he got out, he didn’t bring his brothers here, they brought themselves. 

“I’m dreaming,” He reminds himself. 

“You are, which is good. My tech can’t really do anything special when we’re in a mystical mental plane, so. Do your, yanno, ‘thing’.” 

“We got the big guy for you!” April crows, he can see her backflipping off the Krang’s head, Casey swinging in to kick at its knees. 

Right. He was here, and something got him out— when he dreams this, there’s always things changing, always things that happen differently. He’s usually here alone, facing down the inevitable reality that there’s no more doors; it was his plan, to do anything to get rid of the threat, no matter what that meant but living it was different. It didn’t happen like this, he knows, but he made it out anyways.

He can feel his family around him, just like the kitchen and the dark. There’s fifteen seconds before Raph crashes into him. Fifteen seconds of him in the dark and— there was someone else there, wasn’t there? 

Leo hadn’t decided to make Donnie soup alone. He’d gone with someone, because… because his brother knew how to heat the soup up the way Dad did, and he was older so he could open the cans. He’d been holding someone’s hand as the room went dark. 

He remembers distantly in all of his dreams here, there’s always someone he’s arguing with. Someone he’s losing. Whoever his brother is, he’s been here with him all along.

“You know, you’re really not supposed to be able to be here,” A voice speaks up. It’s choked in that desperately sad and relieved way all in one that he knows, he knows because it’s— 

Leo’s eyes snap open. His brother’s are fighting the Krang with April and Casey and Dad and Cassandra, and he’s sitting at the rock with the photograph, except he’s above it. He’s looking at the dark, and there’s someone holding his hand. 

He blinks. Blue eyes meet his, teary and bright as always. “Mikey—” he breathes, instinctive, like the name is pulled from the very core of himself. 

His brother smiles a heartbreakingly grateful smile. “You’re really not supposed to be able to do that, either.” 

Leo whirls towards him, grabbing immediately for his brother as some unnamable panic crests over him. His hands sink right through thin air, but he can see him— god, he can see Mikey. 

There’s a light hovering orange around his brother’s form emitting a low glow, like he’s a stick on star. They put those in their bedroom, he remembers suddenly. They had them on the ceiling because Mikey had been afraid of the dark, Leo had carefully climbed all the way up on top of the rickety bunk bed and glued them all on without asking Dad, just to make sure Mikey wasn’t scared. He could still see the outlines of them years later. 

“How— Mikey, what happened, I— oh my god, I forgot you—” How did he let that happen, how could he? His only baby brother, their Angelo. “I’m so sorry.” 

Mikey shakes his head, he’s still smiling even though there’s a pinch to his face that Leo immediately can’t stand. “You didn’t, I made you forget. It’s okay Leo.” 

“It’s not! I— it was so messed up without you, I— Raph keeps ditching us and Dad’s tired and, and nobody reads comics anymore!”

Mikey laughs, wet and sad, and it’s still the best thing Leo’s ever heard. He can’t believe he went months without remembering it. When they get back, he’s going to put on all of Mikey’s favorite stupid videos and listen to him laugh for hours just to make sure he remembers it exactly right every day for the rest of their lives. 

Leo barrels forward, still trying to grab any part of his brother; he’s like sand, he’s like water, the pieces of him are streaming through Leo’s finger tips. “It’ll be okay now though, we— Raph will stay in if you’re here, and Don’s stuff’s in your room, but we can move it. He’ll make you a bigger room if you want, you know he will—” 

“Leo,” Mikey cuts in, carefully. Hedging. Leo’s heart crashes through into nothing, he swallows roughly. 

“No,” He tries for a laugh, he remembers this now. He knows what Mikey is going to say. “You’re wrong, stop it. You said— you told me that it was the only way, that we’d all forget.” 

Mikey’s shoulders lift and drop, slow and tired. “You did. It’s okay.” 

“It’s as far away from okay as it can possibly be! You said we wouldn’t miss you, but I did, Mike. I did anyways, we all did. We knew— there was this giant hole right in the middle of us. It shouldn’t be possible, you said it yourself— that means something, I know it does. So— stop trying to tell me to leave or, or whatever else you’re thinking. I’m not going anywhere without you, right now.” 

“I missed you,” Mikey’s crying now which activates every ounce of dread left in him. He looks exhausted, pale and drawn out even with the strange glow.  “Leo, I’ve been trying, you have to believe me.”

Leo shakes his head, furious with heartbreak. “Try harder, then!” His fists clench. He’s not having this same conversation again, he’s not waking up one more time feeling like the world just ended in front of him. He’s not doing this without Mikey, it’s not happening. “I’ll just keep coming back, you know I will. You see that down there?” He gestures at their family, fighting the Krang that isn’t even here anymore, just so Leo won’t have to face it by himself. “They’re not giving up on you. I’m not giving up. I won’t ever, Ang. Don’t ask me to.” 

“Leo—” He says with a sigh, like the decisions already been made. 

“Mikey, stop,” He practically growls, panicking; something crashes behind him, down below where the fights going, he doesn’t look. He refuses to take his eyes off Mikey for a second in case he decides to fade away again. There has to be something there. There’s something to this, he knows there is. Since Leo was small, there’s been a constant he’s held close. It’s proven itself over and over again; when Raph fought through the Krang control, when their Dad gave up the world to save them and they saved it too, every time his brothers pulled through the impossible. Together, they’re stronger than anything— he knows this, he knows it. Mikey put a hole in the world to keep Leo safe. The universe rewrote itself because he made it change, and it only took them a month or two to see the threads anyways. The thrum in him is louder again, but it feels tethered somehow here. Like he could wrap himself around the line of it in his chest and pull. 

“We’ll keep remembering, as long as it takes, you know we will. It doesn’t matter how many times we forget, we’ll always remember you I swear—  Michelangelo, you’re my only baby brother, you think something as stupid as the universe can take you from me?” 

The waterlogged smile he gets could power the sun, he’s sure of it. He leans his head forward, where their foreheads would touch if he could. 

“You have to come back. I don’t care what we have to fight, we’re getting our little brother home.” 

“I want to, Leo, I just— I don’t know how. Not without losing you.”

He wants to say he’d do it, he’d jump right into the black hole to switch places but he remembers how this always went. Mikey learned it from him, from Raph, from their Dad, after all. It wouldn’t fix anything to lose himself either— maybe that’s the lesson at the core here. Leo was never alone on the asteroid, because his baby brother was breaking through space to get to him. And Mikey should never be alone here.

“It’s okay, Angelo, I—” He swallows again, Mikey looks so, so tired. He’s been here for months, Leo realizes, watching them all skip over him and time rewrite without him—  He has an idea, maybe it’ll break everything but he would. For Mikey, he would. “When have we ever played by the rules, hey? Mad Dogs make our own path, right?” 

He'd do anything for his little brother, including break the universe back. Without hesitating, watching Mikey's expression shift from sad to confused, and just that touch of hopeful, he grabs that thread in him, the one that’s been bright and loud and constant for months, and he pulls. 

___

There’s a thunderstorm somewhere far enough— Mikey can hear it in the pipes, in the walls. He’d only seen the sky when it was like this once, rolling gray and dark with thick bolts of lightning scattering apart; through the sewer grates it had looked almost like TV static, far away and strange. It’s loud up there and down here, the water rushing past all the chunks of stone that make up their home and away. 

Leo doesn’t like it, Mikey knows. Every time it storms, his eyes get more white than dark. All big and round and alert, and he jumps at everything. He thinks Mikey doesn’t notice. 

Raphie says it's okay to be afraid of things, like going up top because it's dangerous and they can’t run away or hide good enough yet to be safe. Raph’s afraid of the little dolls that they sometimes find washed up at the bottom of tunnels, he says they have empty eyes and it makes him uneasy; Donnie says Raphie watched a movie on TV that he shouldn’t have. Mikey thinks he’s probably afraid of the monsters in the tunnels, even though Donnie says they aren’t real— he’s heard them, though. He’s sure of it. Donnie also says that people think his brothers are the monsters, which is silly. 

Donnie’s afraid of a big word Mikey never remembers— he says the sun will burn out one day like it runs out of juice and everything will freeze like an icicle forever. He says this like its obvious, but he spends a lot of time reading about it anyways like he can make it go forever if he tries. Mikey thinks he could, Dee made their TV work so it’s probably possible he can do anything. 

Mikey’s not sure what Leo’s afraid of. He knows the water is loud and sounds like the monsters are just outside the doors sometimes, and that they had to leave their old house because there was a pipe that was too old in a wall and it made all their food wet. Leo says he’s not afraid of water, though, and he cannonballs in as big and bright as Raphie whenever they swim in the big water spot down the way. Leo also says monsters aren’t real, and that he’d chase all of them off for Mikey if they were, and he doesn’t think Leo could do any of that if he was scared of them. 

He’s still jumpy when it’s stormy out, though, and never wants to go too far from their room when Dad leaves to find food or things they need. It sure seems like Leo is afraid of something, but Mikey knows his brothers and he knows that Leo is brave and funny and sometimes sneaks cookies from the top shelf for him even when he’s not supposed to. Leo’s not afraid, because it’s Mikey who’s always afraid. 

When Mikey was convinced there was a monster in their bathroom and had been too terrified to run and get Dad, Leo was the one who’d picked up his practice katana and charged in yelling. When Mikey and Leo had gotten stuck in the closet while they’d been playing hide and seek, Leo was the one who started telling him a big dramatic story so it would stop feeling so small. 

It is okay to be scared, but Leo never is. 

“Leo?” He calls— he’s too small to grab the big light, the one Dad says they should only use in emergencies, but it’s dark and Dad went to grab something outside, and Donnie’s been sick so he can’t fix it like he usually does. He thinks this is maybe an emergency. 

Mikey wasn’t supposed to even be away from his brothers when Dad went outside, but Leo had said he’d be right back before the lights went out and Raphie had asked him to check on him. The water is loud in the walls. 

“Leo? I— Raphie says to come back,” He tries again. His voice only wavers a little, and he’s pretty proud because he thinks he might actually be very scared standing in the dark by himself. He doesn’t remember their living room being so big, or the kitchen being so far away, but it feels like miles and miles. It’s cold out here, too. 

Something rattles around the corner near the kitchen. Mikey jumps before realizing it’s probably Leo— sometimes he plays pranks like that, hiding around a corner to jump out. He thinks it’s funny how loud Raph and Mikey will yell, but it’s not. Mikey made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t scream anymore so Leo would stop doing it— he squares his shoulders, and balls up his fists as best as he can. “It’s okay to be afraid,” Mikey tells himself softly.  

Donnie says being scared of the dark is natural, that it’s some behind the brain thought that means other turtles survived longer. Being nervous was helpful, once. Him and his brothers are going to be ninjas soon though, and ninjas weren’t scared or nervous, they were careful. Dad always says that, to be careful and sure. Mikey tries to walk more slowly, quietly— not because there are ghosts waiting for him, but because his stinky older brother that likes to scare him might be. And Mikey isn’t scared, because he’s like Leo. 

The kitchen is strange in the dark, it’s wide and tall, and Mikey doesn’t think he’s ever noticed how high the ceiling goes. There’s an extra splotch of darkness at the very top, he imagines as a big bug waiting for him, and swallows nervously. 

He manages a whisper. “Leo…?” 

He imagines a different time, coming through the dark kitchen. Maybe he’d help Leo with the soup because Mikey wasn’t old enough to use the can opener or reach all the pans, but he watched Dad make it real close, and he knows you have to turn the stove handle to the right dot to make it heat up best. Maybe Leo would be here, and he’d jump out at Mikey and he’d be brave enough to not flinch, and Leo would ruffle him on the head the way he does. 

“Um,” He swallows again, willing himself not to cry as he takes in the empty room around him. The pots and pans look menacing hanging above him like this, like teeth waiting to fall, and the splotch on the ceiling is moving he’s sure of it. The rush of the water seems louder, too, like it knows Mikey’s here and his brothers can’t find him because it’s too dark, and Dad isn’t home to fix it. “This isn’t funny, Leo.” 

Maybe none of them happen, because Mikey is in the kitchen in the dark, and he’s waiting for Leo and he’s scared, and there’s no Leo at all. He turns to look for the door, to go back and wait with his brothers— it’s too dark, suddenly, to see where the door is at all. A pipe groans, or maybe a monster growls, and he squeaks, throwing himself at the nearest wall. He tucks himself in small, holding his knees close. After a moment, nothing moves— another moment, another nothing. 

The room is darker now, he can’t even see the splotch on the ceiling. He’s not sure he’s in the kitchen at all. 

“I’m lost,” He says to his knees, and presses his face into them to hold himself smaller. 

Dad will be home, and he’ll turn the lights on, and everyone will make fun of Mikey for being so scared, and Leo will pop out of the corner he’s hiding in and maybe Mikey will even cry. It’s okay if they make fun of him, as long as it's not dark anymore. As long as he stops being alone. 

He thinks he’s maybe been alone for a long time. 

“--key! Mikey, hold on!” 

Mikey blinks up, around— that sounded like— 

“Mikey, is that you?” 

He jumps, the kitchen— he can see it again— it’s still dark, but if he squints, he thinks he can see a figure on the other side, by the table. 

“...Leo?” 

The figure moves, uncurling itself from underneath the chair legs and shakily standing up. Mikey manages a brave shuffle closer as his eyes try to adjust— it is Leo, rubbing at his eyes fiercely and clearing his throat. “Jeeze, Mike. Way to sneak up on a guy.” 

Mikey almost doesn’t move for a second, feeling strangely out of place. “Mike?” Leo says, nervously, and all of the neurons in him rewire with a sharp burst in his chest as he scrambles forwards, throwing himself into his brother's arms. 

“It was dark! And— I couldn’t find you!” 

Leo’s hand comes up to hold the back of Mikey’s head, like he always does. “Hey— shh. Angie, it’s okay, hey? I've got you, always got you.” 

Mikey leans back, and scrubs at his eyes, trying to glare as fiercely as he can at his big brother in spite of the tears. “I was calling for you, and— and you couldn’t hear me!” Leo winces, something sheepish lacing across his face. There’s something else too, Mikey can’t read it so it doesn’t matter he figures. Leo always tells him, he always listens. 

“I heard you, I promise,” He holds Mikey closer for a second. “Sorry it took me a while— I always heard you.” 

He doesn’t know what that means but it appeases something in him anyways, he squeezes his brother as hard as he can. “Don’t go off on your own ever again,” Mikey tells him, muffled into his chest. “You gotta take me with you, too.” 

Leo doesn’t say anything for a long moment, humming quietly as he rubs Mikey’s shell. “I’m here now, hey? Not going anywhere, you’re not getting rid of me.” 

That’s good, he thinks. That’s where he should be. Here and nowhere else. Mikey’s not brave enough to be alone without him. 

He feels embarrassment wring through him. “I was scared,” He confesses, apologetic. Leo will probably tease him for it, when it’s light again. He’ll probably tell Raph like its a joke, but then stick more glow stars on the ceiling for him anyways. 

“Me too,” Leo says, quietly. “I was. I was really scared.”

Oh, Mikey blinks, rewires his thoughts. “Don’t have to be scared,” He tells Leo, because it’s what Dad says to him, too. “I can be brave and we can take turns.”

Leo laughs, gentle and quiet, his hug gets so tight Mikey debates telling him to let go, but— he’s shaking, a little, like he’s breathing all funny. He doesn’t want to tell Leo to stop if it helps. 

“Okay, little brother.” 

Mikey leans back, and takes Leo’s hand in his. He looks around the kitchen— it seems smaller, now.

“We can go now,” He says, and he’s not sure why. Leo’s mouth is flat and terse like it is when he’s really sad, but he manages a small smile anyways. 

It’s not as many steps to cross the room, and the splotch on the ceiling is just a shadow, really. He pulls Leo along behind him, squaring himself as bravely as he can. It’s easy, with Leo’s hand in his. It’s just a silly room, they make cereal bowls in the morning and sometimes Dad lets them put salt in the pot for spaghetti, and Leo makes silly faces when they clean dishes to make it fun. It’s a room in his house, and he’s safe here even when the pipes are loud and it’s dark. It's a room and Leo's here, and they're safe together.

He thinks about Donnie, waiting for soup. About Raph and his big worried bros, and the way he lets Mikey climb up on his shoulders to see up higher. He thinks about a hallway, and the twelve and a half steps to the stairs and the ten steps up to their floor, and the ten more steps to their bedroom. There’s something warm in his fingertips, in his chest, like he’s just had soup, or been bundled up in his favorite spot in their hammock between his brothers, and Dad is in the hallway turning off the light. 

The yellow through their ratty blue blanket always turns red and orange at the side, purple at the bottom. 

He can see the door to the hallway now— it’s not far to where his brothers are, and Dad said he’d be home soon. Mikey thinks he might be tired, though. He thinks he’s been tired for a long time. 

“I want to go home,” He tells Leo, from some place outside himself. His hands tingle funny, he thinks he’d like to rest, but the door is right there and he made it, and it’s glowing bright as anything— 

Leo’s hand is firm and warm and squeezes back, and he can take another step. 

____

Mikey wakes up warm. 

He stretches, reaches as high up as he can to touch the wall behind his headboard, same as he always does. He feels the grooves of the stone under his fingers, and the light vibration of the pipes behind it. He feels the stiffness in his spine loosen, uncurl, like he’s been tucked into his shell for too long.

It’s quiet, he realizes; his home is a ripcord of motion normally. Raph always gets up early and makes tea, and sits with Dad for a little while before Mikey ambles down to get breakfast going. He can usually hear music already, or Don’s electronics whirring if he’d pulled another all nighter, or the thrum of a TV. There’s none of that now. If he focuses, he can hear soft puffs of breath somewhere beside him. 

The realization doesn’t hit him for a long moment. He opens his eyes and sees his room, the outlines of plastic stuck on stars on the ceiling, the pile of comics tucked carefully onto his bookshelf, and — Leo. Sleeping with his head on his hand, leaning half onto Mikey’s bed from the floor. 

He blinks and— 

He’s standing on an asteroid, the one he lost Leo on. Some unthinkable distance away from home, caught high up in the air and all alone. The Krang is missing, because Mikey did it right this time, finally. He found the branch within all the branches that would get Leo home— the one where Mikey never existed to begin with. The only branch where Leo grew up being the baby of the family where his overprotective brothers never allowed him to even venture into self-sacrificial acts of heroism. The only one where Leo figures out a different plan.

They’re happy here, he knows. They will be happy here, even if Leo doesn’t believe him. 

His brother is all highlighter outrage and heartbreak, a full study in devastation in technicolor, and all Mikey can think of is that he loves him. That he’s glad he’s safe. That if this is the only gift he can ever give any of them again, a way to skip grieving at all, then he’s glad. He’s only sorry to be the one leaving first. 

“What are you talking about?” Leo’s voice shakes, his eyes are wild. He’s not supposed to even know what’s happening, not supposed to be able to talk to Mikey like this, but his brothers have always had a way of doing the impossible. “You’re not going anywhere, stop it.” 

“Leo, it’s too late. I’m– I’m not going anywhere, not really. You’ll see.” 

Leo’s expression twists further, it hurts to look at, it does, but Mikey makes himself memorize all of it just in case. 

“You think I’ll let that happen?”

“You don’t have a choice—”

“I don’t care, Michael. I don’t— what. My baby brother is badass enough to change space and time just because he decided to, and you think I’m going to let that one up me? If you can change the timeline, then so can I.”

Mikey smiles, despite himself. He wonders how it’s possible to be so afraid and full of love all at once, he doesn’t know how there’s room. "Leo, you have to let me go. It's okay."

His big brother is so, so sad. It aches and hollows him out to see it, he's never seen Leo like this before. Like the sun just burnt itself out right in the sky. “If I let you go, I'll lose you." He says, simply, horrifically. 

"Maybe that's how it's s'pposed to go," Mikey shrugs, hiccuping on a sob.

Leo's expression shifts, firm lines pouring in between. He leans close and pokes him in the chest, eyes flashing fierce. "It's not. It can't be, I won't let it. You’re not going anywhere, baby brother. I’m not doing any of this without you.” 

The world unravels apart in front of him and Leo’s eyes never leave his. 

“You awake?” 

Mikey jumps, hands curled tight into his comforter so hard it hurts. Leo’s staring at him now, expression entirely unreadable. 

“Leo, I—” 

He holds up a hand, swiping at Mikey’s chin gently. “Great to see you up. Worried we weren’t going to be able to wake you for a bit there. How are your hands?” 

His hands? Mikey blinks down at himself. His hands are a network of glowing lines, worse than before. Last time they’d opened up like fissures, pure gold creeping through before settling into paler scars against his scales. Now, it looks like his hands are barely holding back straight sunlight, more cracked lines than not. It doesn’t… hurt, though. 

“Okay,” He says, his voice is croaky and small. Leo smiles at him, rubs the top of his head in a smooth motion before standing. 

“I’ll let Don know you’re awake, he wanted to check in on all of that.” 

Leo hasn’t actually looked him in the eyes, Mikey realizes with a pang— instinctively, desperately, he grabs Leo’s hand before he can walk away. Some part of him terrified abruptly that Leo’s so furious with him it’ll be like this forever, never quite looking at him but too scared to leave. Like magnets constantly repelling each other. Leo's his best friend, just like Donnie and Raph, but he's always wanted to be as brave as Leo was his whole life. He can't be mad at him for doing what Leo would have done, did do a thousand times over, he can't.

“Don’t— um. Don’t go?” 

Leo’s shoulders hitch high, he’s staring at the doorway flatly. Tense. Mikey has an insane urge to apologize, desperately, but he’s not even really sorry. If Leo’s here then he did it right, it was worth it. If Leo’s here then Mikey made the correct choice, no matter what Leo thinks.

They stay like that for a long second, Mikey holding Leo’s wrist with both hands, Leo facing away. He can feel Leo’s pulse under his thumb, it’s settling some terrified white noise in his head, in spite of himself. He can breathe knowing Leo's here.

Actually, he’s breathing a lot— big heaving breaths that tear through him all at once. He can feel Leo’s heartbeat and he’s alive, and Mikey’s here, and he can see him and— he was so tired of being alone, of trying to be brave. Maybe he always believed Leo would find him, maybe that wasn’t fair of him at all. He just doesn’t want Leo to hate him for it. 

“I— I…” He tries, the sentences evaporating into nothing before him. 

Leo turns instantly, switching their hands so he’s holding onto Mikey’s wrist just as tightly. His eyes are wet, Mikey realizes. 

“Angelo—” 

“Leo—” Mikey stops, bites his lip. Leo doesn’t look angry, not really, but he’s not sure. “I’m. I’m just happy to see you.”

Something crashes across the flat dark of his eyes, splintering it apart like a lightning storm, all motion and sparked urgency. 

“I missed you so much,” Leo says, and pulls him into a hug. 

Mikey gasps, tears falling from wide eyes. “I thought… I thought you’d be mad.” 

“I am,” Leo sniffs, choking on a breath as he bundles Mikey closer. “I’m so fucking mad at you, but I love you and you were missing. Don’t ever do that to me again.” 

“You jumped first,” Mikey manages, some backwards anger from a reality that no longer matters leeching forwards. 

Leo shakes his head, hooks his chin on top of Mikey’s forehead. “Big brothers are supposed to do stuff like that. I knew you’d save my shell.” 

“No you didn’t,” Mikey argues, balling his fists up to push at Leo’s chest. “You didn’t, because I didn’t even know. You were going to leave me behind.” 

There’s a fraction of a space between them as Leo lifts his head, and it’s horrible. His eyes are swollen red, tears still streaming from them; he looks just as heartbroken as before, but Mikey’s fine. Leo shouldn't look like he's still losing Mikey when they're here together, that's silly, that hurts in a way Mikey doesn't know how to make better. He puts both hands on Leo's cheeks anyways, to keep him in one piece all together.

“Never,” Leo swears wetly. “I’ll always come back for you, you hear me? Nowhere you can go I can’t annoy you back where you belong.”

“Same for you,” Mikey insists, it sounds like begging. “I’m a badass mystic warrior now. I’ll just drag you back home.” 

Leo lets out a shaking breath, and Mikey sniffles too.

"I was trying to tell you that I loved you," Mikey offers, wobbling all the way down to the core of himself. "Did you hear me?"

His big brother's face twists, crashes to pieces and his shoulders shake, leaning all his weight forwards into Mikey's hands and closing his eyes. "Course I did," He says, as easy as anything. "Of course I did."

____

Leo has another dream. 

It’s softer— it’s not on the asteroid, there’s no Krang or portal or giant ship. He’s younger, skipping through the sewers after his Dad and his brothers. Dad has Raph’s hand in his, and Raph’s holding onto Donnie’s sleeve to make sure he doesn’t stray too far either. He gets distracted sometimes, by the details that pile up in his head. Raphie keeps an eye on Donnie though. 

Leo’s supposed to be doing something, he thinks. 

The tunnels are tall and wide, and there’s hints of lights through the grates high up above that make spackled golden dots on the stone. He peers closely at a puddle, the way the light seems to absorb it all in. When he looks up, his family is trailing farther away. Faint outlines in the murky distance— he needs to catch up, he thinks. Or when the rain comes we’ll get separated. 

Dad’s watching out for Raph, who’s watching out for Donnie, though, so they’ll be okay. It’s Leo’s job to make sure they don’t get separated. 

The tunnels are still light, but they’re long and the splotches of light look like sun through the tree leaves, and his family turns a corner. Leo’s alone. 

He wakes up, standing in a tunnel. 

It’s dark. Of course it’s dark— for a disorienting moment, Leo’s not sure he’s actually awake. The jumpcut between his last memories of ambling off to bed to now don’t seem to fit in any way he can make sense of, but the stone under his feet is cold and solid anyways. He knows this tunnel, probably. He knows all of the offshoot tunnels by their home like the back of his hand— he’s not lost. He isn’t. 

He is alone, though. 

The dream is still floating through his mind, a cloud that hasn’t fully let up and drifted off as it weighs thick and heady. A thundercloud, dropping low with all its gray and heavy lightning. They didn’t wander off without him, he knows— except. It’s just that they could have, couldn’t they? Any one of them could be cut clean through again. 

He knows the memory his mind had latched onto. His heart beats frantic and loud for a moment as he realizes. He’d been there with Mikey, it was his job to watch his baby brother; he’d been there with Mikey, but he’d forgotten again. How could he have forgotten, again? What if he hadn’t fixed it, not really, and any one of them could fade out of the forefront without him noticing? 

The tunnel is dark, and he’s alone— he knows this tunnel, his home is a few steps around the corner, and he must have slept walked all the way out but he can go back. He knows his brothers: Donnie, Raph, Mikey. He hasn’t forgotten them, he hasn’t. 

There were fifteen seconds that he was alone in the dark when the power went out. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Raph’s voice bounces off the stone around them— Leo whirls around before his mind catches fully up, and Raph sweeps him up further into a bear hug with it. “Pretty sure you’re still grounded.” 

Leo blinks frantically, feeling the slight tremble of Raph’s arms around him. Donnie peeks his head over Raph’s shoulder. “So, turns out I didn’t remove the trackers on all of you that I said I did, go figure.” 

“Which I’ll allow this one time, on account of bozo activity.” Raph says. “But we will be revisiting at a later time, with Dad.” 

“What—” Leo turns his head. Donnie’s pretending to type on his wrist guard, but his eyes keep flickering up at Leo and away. Raph’s smile is tense at the edges. They’re here, they’re real, he hasn’t forgotten them, but then— 

Raph continues, he’s herding Leo forward and beginning the walk back home as he talks. “Maybe we give up the whole sleeping in separate rooms thing tonight and do a sleepover instead. We can put your favorite on.”

“I won’t even argue on which film is the best, this one time only,” Donnie says, magnanimously.  

Oh, Leo manages a shaky smile back. The ball of nervousness bubbles in his chest, he tries to swallow it down. “Better not be Punch Chowder then, because—”

“That’s only for criminals,” Mikey chirps in, patting Leo on the arm as they’re bustled forward. The knot in Leo’s chest relaxes. Everyone’s here, he didn’t forget them. The gratitude is nearly overwhelming, his knees nearly give out before Mikey swoops in under his arm, wrapping his own firmly around Leo’s shell. 

“Movie night sounds good,” He manages. His family, all where he can see them, can be sure he won’t wake up without any one of them. It sounds perfect. 

The lights are on, the tunnel is bright. He’s watching over Mikey and he’s holding onto all of them, and his hand is in Don’s. 

Yeah, he thinks. Everything where it’s supposed to be. 

[anonymousauthorsblog]

Turning Passions

chapter 12 • the audition

this chapter contains writing

lowercase intended

break - alex g

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y/ns pov 3rd person

wednesday, the day of it all. the final audition. y/n is staring towards the class, her mind completely occupied by the rushing knowledge that if she doesn’t put on her best work for her audition today- the training and the work she’s put in will be for nothing. the success of her hardship will doom to be her defeat, and the worst of all- she’ll fail and disappoint her teacher miss trin, who has spend hours upon hours to prepare her for today, her performance reflecting onto her work and both her and her teacher will receive punishment of her main instructor. chills run down y/n’s spine, she shivers as she thinks of all the possible outcomes she can get from this, she can succeed and prove her worthiness of her position she earned as the black swan, her worthiness on this dance class that she fought to get to. or she can fail and kiss goodbye to her dreams because she knows if she doesn’t prove herself today, her dance teacher will never choose her for a main role ever, she’ll be stuck in the glimpse of being a support dancer forever. y/n reaches up biting her nails- anxiety taking over, her eyebrows furrowing up, clearly showing signs of distress. that’s until she feels a soft shake to her shoulders. “y/n” her name getting called out in a demanding tone. she turns to see who’s the intruder is to see the black haired boy staring at her with a concerned structure. “y/n class is almost starting you alright?” class… oh right, she’s in math. y/n gasps out silently before nodding. “oh uh yeah, just a bit distracted sorry” megumi squints his eyes not believing the girl who is clearly lost in thought, not making clear eye contact with him. “are you sure, we can talk about it you know?” y/n sighs and looks down before gently saying “it’s a long story” megumi looks down at the girl before saying “we can talk about it later?” y/n let’s out a muffled laugh before continuing “it’s about dance, i just have an audition later..” megumi looks confused before adding “didn’t you get the role, isn’t your performance like next friday?” y/n let’s her head fall to her hands before mumbling, “exactly-.” but before she can continue, her math teacher stops her, starting class. y/n gives a small smile to megumi before turning towards the board- trying to pay attention.

megumi pov 3rd person

megumi is staring at the board, his mind everywhere besides learning probability and what would the fraction be when given the final standard. his eyes look to the side to see the girl that’s been taken up his mind. this morning walking in he could already feel the tension, how she would grip onto the table, her eyes staring straight into nothing. this worried him, as she would always walk in and start conversation with him, even if it was the stupidest thing, especially arguing over movie choices and themes. he looks at the girl again to see her leg bouncing, fingers lightly tapping, but head and eyes straight above to the board to imitate that she was actually paying attention. her eyes direct to the board with no thought. he softly scoffs looking down to his notebook. megumi tries to pay attention until 30 minutes have passed and megumi is letting this girl take over his mind more likely than he would’ve wanted. he then directs his attention to his pencil and then to his notebook again. nothing. empty space, he did nothing in this class for this first time ever. in this moment megumi then quickly drops down grabbing his pencil, writing something quickly, he looks at it before ripping it out of his paper. he looks at the time again, one minute until the class ends, megumi then takes a deep breath, folding the paper. he looks at y/n who’s still physically here but mentality overdoing herself- megumi then quickly grabs his folded paper to shove it in y/n’s hand to then grab his stuff and rush out of the classroom. fulled with embarrassment he quickly walks out, practicing running to his next class with flush arising to his cheeks and his ears turning a soft shade of red. he lets a small smirk out before now pulling out of the trance he was in, and finally focusing on his studies ahead.

y/n pov 3rd person

y/n snaps out of thought- a note being shoved into her palms- she blinks opening her mouth to respond to see megumi dashing out the classroom. she holds the note trying to open it before realizing that she needs to get to the studio to make it to her audition on time. y/n then shoves everything in her bag, opening her phone case to put the note in- to remember to read it later. she then runs to the studio not caring who sees her before making it to the doors, she stops in front of the building, feeling her heart drop to her stomach. she starts breathing heavily before opening the door. she walks to the dressing room doing her usual routine trying to make sure everything is perfect, but today feels so wrong. the air is tense her throat feels like it’s being cut off of oxygen and her eyes are begging to close. she starts to feel a rush of anxiety before a voice calls out to her, “y/n they’re ready” she looks up and nods her head before entering the dance room. both teachers are there, she looks around waiting for her competition before a voice booms through. “waiting for kai?” her main teacher glares, “yeah she’s not here, you’re the only one auditioning today- i trained her so of course she’s ready” the teacher laughs. y/n freezes, her emotions flying out. she looks up before the teacher continues, “you have something to prove and at this point if you dont do this the way i expected, then you can kiss goodbye to even dancing in this program.” y/n nods her head slowly understanding the point her teacher is trying to make, but not understanding the situation. the teacher gets up before starting the music she slams her palm on the table before saying “start!”, y/n does, she flows through the choreography, trying to be intense but trying to fit the perfect rhythm in the dance. she flows through before the music is suddenly stopped. that’s when the name kai is called through. “kai do her part” the main teacher yells. y/n is shocked, her eyes watering, “what” she mumbles watching the girl, walk past her hitting her shoulder on her way to her position giving y/n a sly smirk. the teacher claps her hands giving permission for kai to begin, y/n is lost in thought she then looks over to see her own instructor miss trin, to see that miss trin is avoiding her gaze. y/n is forced to watch her competitor do her part for the next 5 minutes before it ends, she feels her eyes water up before her main teacher yells “don’t cry! you have no room to cry, i have you enough time and you’re still a mediocre dancer!” y/n’s eyes glare into the teacher, she feels belittled and played. she whispered a soft “yes maam” before miss trin walks up softly whispering “y/n do the dance again”, y/n glances up before nodding, she walks over before getting into her position. the teachers clear the stage before miss trin looks at y/n staring straight into her eyes, miss trin completes a breathing motion before nodding at her in approval she starts the music.

y/n starts, she comes in with furry, the emotions she’s feeling sad, played, she feels betrayed by her teachers and like a joke she puts that all into her first sequence the music following behind her. she leaps and glances at the her teachers with full of determination and most importantly anger. she fills this dance with anger and frustration. she knows she’s been working hard, and the fact that they would toy with her emotions fills her heart with pain. she moves onto the hardest part, the part every dancer struggles in, the long turn sequence. she grabs onto this and turns for her life. she turns with passion and confidence, before ending the solo with furry, hurt and the craze for more fire to fill her. that’s when her teachers stand up and clap, miss trin smirking “i told you she’s got it” her main teacher nodding “you have it y/n, don’t disappoint me again” she says while walking out with kai. y/n laughs in distress and in pity- getting up before walking past miss trin, feeling hurt from the discomforting situation she put her in before leaving the studio, with tears in her eyes.

y/n walks out, finding the nearest bench, she throws down her bag letting her emotions runs free. tears start running through finally letting herself free after holding them in for months while working on the project. she’s overworked herself for years to get to the point where she’s at now, years of dance training. nights in studios and years of perfection to lead to this. mediocre. mediocre doesn’t get her anywhere in her world. she stops and tries to pull herself together gathering her bag to see that with her throwing her bag, her phone suffered the repercussions of it, she slowly picks it up to see the note that was put in her phone case. she grabs it to undo her case to grab the note, she unfolds it, and silently reads what’s in it….

“y/n

i know that’s something is up with you, you know you can tell me anything. my doors open all the time, don’t be shy or whatever.

- megumi”

y/n folds back the note to place back in her phone case, she gathers her things before leaving. leaving the studio that’s done more damage than good, leaving the sight of a mediocre situation to finally try and find peace.

meanwhile…

authors notes:

Hey guys!! welcome back to chapter 12!! this chapter we interfere with a bit of angst and the inside of the toxic environment of y/n’s dance life!! but cool side is we get a bit of megumi action?!! (at what cost 😕) but anyways i hoped you guys enjoyed!! thank you for your support, see yall later!!!

fun facts:

• yuji and nobara did in fact get into a 1v1 (yuji is more scared of megumi than nobara), she did win!

• after watching 10 things i hate about you megumi and y/n debate on which movie theme is better (he likes the sophisticated movies…)

• megumi enjoys hearing y/n in the morning in math class which is why is immediately caught on to y/n’s distress.

tags list:

@catobsessedlady @prettynai @notveevee @1l-ynn @xcalkenf @heyheyitsurdaily @aceakariii @melteddoctopie @hannahgcherry @juliiizh @domainexpansi0n @makeshiftproject

[alexihollis]

Swan Song

When Jasmine woke up that morning, she knew she was going to have a problem. For most people, a headache and a sore throat were annoying. They meant having to delay plans or work through pain, likely for a couple of days.

For someone sleeping under a boardwalk facing the beginning of a New York City winter, though? Waking up that morning with a pounding headache and her throat feeling like it was on fire was terrifying. Disheartening. Jasmine had at least thought she would make it to twenty, but, at this rate, eighteen was looking like a stretch.

Considering her eighteenth birthday was in two-weeks, this was not boding well for Jasmine.

Not one to roll over and die, though, Jasmine forced herself off her thin bed of cardboard boxes and up onto the boardwalk proper. She kept her head down, shoved her chapped hands into the pockets of her worn jacket, and set on her journey to the soup kitchen - the nice one, with the old retired lady who always snuck her extra bread. It was farther than the one Jasmine usually went to, but the nice one had better contacts, too, and, during flu season, they sometimes handed out cold medicines.

Except Jasmine underestimated how bad she was really feeling and her vision began to swim after three minutes of walking. She found herself collapsing on a bench, winded.

Fuck. Not good. Very much not good.

"Kid!" Aw fuck.

Jasmine winced, shoulders hunching at the familiar voice, keeping her eyes trained on the boardwalk. Not long after, a pair of beat up brown boots appeared next to Jasmine's destroyed canvas sneakers.

Fuuuck. Jasmine needed to run. She needed to already be running. Her body had different plans, though, having still not caught her breath.

"Nice to see you not running for a change," the woman said, almost jovially.

She was older than Jasmine. How much, Jasmine couldn't guess, but she seemed old enough to drink at the very least.

The woman took a seat next to Jasmine on the bench, slinging her arms along the back like she owned the boardwalk. She probably did, given the Warriors jacket she wore and the way all the other members of the gang Jasmine tried to avoid treated her. Somewhere in the last two weeks, though, the Warriors had begun taking notice of Jasmine, calling after her. This woman hadn't yet, but Jasmine suspected it would only be a matter of time.

Jasmine was used to gangs running her out of their turf, even if she promised to not cause trouble. The Rogues had been the roughest. Her shoulder still twinged sometimes.

"I'll move on tonight," Jasmine said, voice strained and rough. She sounded like death.

"You don't have- Jesus fucking Christ, kid, you sound like hell!" The woman exclaimed.

"I'm sick." was Jasmine's deadpan response.

"Yeah, no fucking shit. How long you been like this?" The woman asked.

Jasmine just shrugged. Her head hurt.

And her heart was beating. Like. Really fast.

And suddenly, Jasmine felt herself break out in a sweat. But she was cold.

Weird.

"-like this. And you aren't hearing a word I'm saying. Kid, kid!"

Oh, and now her vision was getting fuzzy. Black around the edges that was creeping in to the center.

The last thing Jasmine was vaguely aware of was the woman, shouting, "Ajax! Cochise! I need help, now!"

Then there was nothing.

The first thing that Jasmine was aware of when she woke up was that there was a heavy, quilted blanket laying on top of her, like the one her grandmother used to lay over her. The second was that she was laying on the most comfortable surface she had laid on in months.

That surface turned out to be a brown, corduroy couch in an unfamiliar living room with a small window through which Jasmine could just barely make out the boardwalk between the alley across the street.

There was also a buff woman sitting on a recliner a few feet away that Jasmine did not recognize who noticed Jasmine's open eyes.

"Oh, shit, you're awake," she said. "Cleon! Your stray woke up!"

"For fuck's sake, Ajax, do not call her that," the woman from earlier - Cleon - bit out as she suddenly appeared.

"What? She's gonna need a new name if she's sticking around. Stray's a good one."

"Stray is a horrible name," Cleon said, before turning to Jasmine with a soft, relieved smile. "How are you feeling? You've been in and out a few days."

Jasmine blinked, uncomprehendingly.

"We got your shit from under the boardwalk," Ajax said gruffly. "You can go through it. Promise no one here took anything."

"Thank you," Jasmine's voice was rough again, but from disuse more than anything this time. She did feel better. Not nearly as close to death as before.

Ajax seemed uncomfortable with Jasmine's words though and mumbled some excuse under her breath before leaving the room. Cleon just shook her head, bemused, before approaching the couch, perching on the arm next to Jasmine's head.

"You look a lot better," Cleon said. "We were able to get some meds in you - over the counter, no hard drugs or anything, promise. You scared the shit out of us, though, I'll give you that much. You'll have a hell of a story to tell about your recruitment."

"Recruitment?"

"Aw, shit," Cleon laughed at herself. "Sorry. That slipped out before I meant it. It's what I wanted to talk to you about when I caught you on the boardwalk."

"You want me to be a Warrior?" No one...No one had ever tried to recruit her before.

Not even the Orphans.

And the Orphans recruited everyone. Did wonders for a girl's ego to not even get a cursory ask.

"Yeah, girl," Cleon said. "Been trying to track you down the last two weeks, but you are fucking slippery. Which is fantastic, because I was thinking slide you in as a scout first, then, after we get some meat on your bones, we can see what other positions you might like. But it does mean you'll have to stop sleeping under the boardwalk. Warriors have to sleep in beds, its just the rules."

"I can't- I don't-"

"We got a nice free bed here waiting for ya. You aren't there now cause we needed to keep a close eye. You kept trying to die on us, like some sort of demented Swan Song," Cleon said.

"Why are you doing this?" Jasmine asked.

Cleon just looked at her. "Because I need good people to watch my back and I have a feeling you are good people." Then, "What's your name anyway?"

"Jasmine."

"Huh." Cleon chewed on her lip for a second. "Swan."

"What?"

"Your new name. Swan. How you like it?" Cleon asked. "You had your little Swan Song to say goodbye to Jasmine, reborn as Swan the Warrior. Poetic, right?"

"Yeah." Swan smiled at the crazy woman in front of her who gave her hope for the first time in months. "Poetic."

[zorosjuicymelonsx]

Finding You

A/N: Happy Valentines Day!

Dropping in with another chapter! When I'm writing this story, I honestly feel like such a Zoro scholar with how much I sit there and think about how he's feeling XD ya boy is not very expressive but he's still my pookie bear <;3

I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, I don't think this is much of a warning but just in case; you get a bit of acid in your throat from anxiety/shock if ya know what I mean or ever experienced it. There is some fighting but I've not gone into the whole blood thing so its just actions but I know some of you guys do not do well with blood.

Without further ado, I'll be back next week to drop the next one!

Chapter Four Previous Next

A few weeks had passed since your arrival and you managed to settle in with everyone…all except for Zoro. Since your duel with him, he’d made every effort to ignore you. From aired hellos when you greeted him passing by to moving seats away from you at meal times when you tried sitting next to him to him spending more time in the Crows Nest away from everyone.

As disheartened as you felt, you knew you couldn’t force him to talk to you. You assured everyone that you were okay. You spent most of your nights trying to wrap your head around the possibility that something could have tampered with his memory, removing all signs of you in his head. The mere thought of the endless possibilities made your blood boil and kept you from falling asleep soundly.

To keep yourself busy and away from living in your own head, you’d throw yourself into sketching; deciding to start a new project involving drawing everyone on the ship secretly and framing them to hang in the galley. You were able to draw Luffy fishing, Usopp training with his slingshot, Nami in her study working on her maps, Franky fixing the mini-Merry and Chopper taking a nap in his infirmary. You were grateful for your memory as it was getting harder to remain inconspicuous, almost getting caught by Brook whose lurking ghost form had almost given you a heart attack but not before you were able to slam your sketchbook shut and lecture him on how not to sneak (or fly?) up on people.

You’d also been spending more time with the girls on the deck lounging in the lawn chairs, the concept of relaxation foreign seeing as you’d spent so long journeying around the world. Aside from your usual training which you conducted almost every morning, you asked Jinbe to train you in fishman karate, fascinated by the art which he graciously agreed to do for you.

Today, you had planned to sketch and relax to take a break from your usual training schedule.

As you made your way up to the table on the deck, your sketchbook and pencils ready in your hands, you could hear Sanji and Nami in the kitchen quietly speaking. You moved away from the gap in the door, positioning your back against the wall with your ear inline to listen in. You knew you shouldn’t but you couldn’t help after hearing the concern laced in both their voices.

“Nami-swan, we really need to get a stronger lock for the fridge.”

“Sanji-kun, we need to make do with the supplies we have until we get to the next island which won’t be for at least another week.” Nami sighed out heavily.

You frowned at the topic of the conversation, instant guilt seeping in as you felt responsible for the food shortage. You’d outlined that Sanji probably shopped for the 10 of them, an additional person would add strain especially when an appetite like Luffy’s existed. An idea came to mind and you decided to end your eavesdropping. You moved off the wall and peered your head into the kitchen. This caught Sanji and Nami’s attention, both offering bright smiles of welcome to you.

“I’m sorry, I was listening to your conversation. i-I think I can help.” You offered a small apologetic smile.

You explained your idea to use your devil fruit ability to conjure a hole onto an island you visited before from memory that you knew you could get food supplies from. You explained that your ability allowed you to revisit places out of memory or to visit random locations but at your own risk.

At first they both sat in silence thinking of your proposition. Then Sanji protested against the idea and was adamant they could make supplies last till then. Nami counter argued and saw sense in this idea to save them time and strain. Sanji looked at Nami hesitantly before sighing and nodded in agreement.

“Is there anyone you want to bring with us?” You asked Sanji.

“Not at all Y/N-chan, I’ll get ready for our trip.” Sanji said excitedly, his eyes bore hearts at the thought of spending time with you. He danced away to the pantry to get his bags and ready himself for the trip.

“I’ll have someone near the hole ready to take the bags off you guys. I’ll brief the others.” Nami said as she got up and gave you a hug of appreciation.

You hugged her back, grateful for the opportunity to prove yourself to everyone.

You left Nami and Sanji, dropping your sketchbook off back in your shared room. You then headed to the area of the deck where you’d previously made the hole. As you took a deep breath in, clearing your mind and holding your right hand out, you envisioned the other side. You chose to picture a quiet open space of land on an island you’d visited a year ago that you knew would only be a short walk away from the market.

You wouldn’t be able to close the hole until you and Sanji were completely finished so choosing a secluded area was a must away from prying eyes.

With the hole open and ready, you turned back to the door that went below deck to see Sanji approaching you with some empty bags in his hands. Behind him, you could see Nami, Usopp and Brook holding Luffy back. You had to hold back a laugh from the kerfuffle.

With Sanji now standing next to you, you turned to him, gesturing to follow you as you jumped into the hole. As you now stood on what now appeared to now be secluded farm land, the path to the market however remained the same as you’d remembered it. You looked at Sanji who now stood next to you, smiling before pointing to the pathway as you started walking. Sanji briefly stood in awe at the hole, the coolness of the smoke clouds prickling his skin.

“Ohhh Y/N-chan is so talented! MELLORINE.” Sanji sang out, taking out his box of cigarettes from his pocket to pull out a smoke as he started walking to catch up with you. You were usually not a fan of the cigarette smell but you became quite used to it and found yourself thinking that it would be quite weird not to smell smoke from Sanji.

You briefly explained to Sanji that they would need to be swift as keeping the hole open for long periods of time would affect your energy reserve. With this, Sanji vowed to do his best, zooming past you on the path to the marketplace that could be seen from their current distance.

Meanwhile…

“Witch let go of me.” Zoro keened forward, teeth bared out and his ear hot and sore from Nami pulling him from it. He just wanted to nap. Nami stomped forward, her grip still tight on Zoro’s right ear towards the hole you left on the deck. Zoro noticed the hole, feeling a sense of panic twinge him at the thought you were behind the hole.

Both reaching the edge of the hole, Nami let go of Zoro and pushed him down to sit on the floor.

“Now you’re going to sit here and wait for Y/N and Sanji to come back. You should be grateful, your wife offered to help us out.” Nami lectured, and Zoro let out a ‘ha?’ despite being completely aware of what was going on. He’d overheard Nami briefing everyone and he wanted absolutely nothing to do with it despite feeling slightly grateful that you offered to help.

“Why do I have to do it? Isn’t it Jinbe’s turn to help anyway?” Zoro argued, rubbing his hand against his ear to soothe it.

“That's when we get to the next island and quite frankly I’m fed up of watching you avoid Y/N like she's diseased. Now you wait here and if I see you even moved an inch you’ll be sorry.” Nami threatened with her fist balled to his face before walking away, briefly turning her head back to dart threats from her eyes.

He huffed, sulking as he crossed his arms and sat cross legged against the ship. Since his duel with you, he avoided you. Whilst Zoro had accepted that you and him were married, his mind in his resolve that he didn’t want to commit himself to anything or anyone but his ambitions. What he couldn’t explain was the dull ache he felt in his chest whenever he was actively avoiding you and seeing the brief displays of disappointment that flickered on your face. He was adamant it wasn’t guilt or regret. He rarely felt those emotions and when he did, they were much stronger. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was but he chose to ignore it.

Time had passed and Zoro was feeling restless, becoming more annoyed that it was you and especially the shitty cook he was waiting on.

“Fuck this.” Zoro angrily mumbled to himself.

On a whim, he sat up on his knees and decided to crouch over to stick his head in the hole to see for himself what the hold up was. He briefly felt a chill run down his cheeks and neck as he plunged his head into the clouds of smoke.

Now Zoro was rarely surprised. He hadn’t anticipated that as his head reached the other side of the hole he would come face to face with you on the other side. His breathing halted, voice choked in his throat holding back any sound as his eye met with yours. He noticed how wide your eyes were with shock, you clearly hadn’t anticipated seeing anything come through the hole. He was so close in fact, he could feel the warmth radiating from your face onto his from the flush of pink that bloomed on the apples of your cheeks.

After a few more seconds, he quickly shot his head back out of the hole, landing on his bum as his whole face burned with embarrassment. He didn’t have quite enough time to recover his breath completely before noticing a masculine hand poking through the hole with a bag in grip. Zoro jumped into action and reached out to grab the bags, setting them to the side until all the bags were collected.

Once the bags were set and he thought it was over, out of the corner of his eye he noticed you trying to emerge through the hole, your smaller hands were gripping on the edge of the deck. He sensed you were struggling and before he could stop himself Zoro stood up, grabbed your wrists and pulled you out of the hole, bringing you to stand in front of him.

You were too embarrassed, trying your best to avoid his eye. He noticed the flush that was still painted on your cheeks. His eye traced over your features briefly, noticing the smoothness of your skin and the thick curl of your lashes. You could feel his gaze on you and eventually built up your courage to look up at him. His large frame towering over yours as your eye bore into his grey iris. Your eyes flickered to his scar, you’d been tempted to trace over it with your fingertips. You’d wondered what exactly happened to his eye but despite that, you couldn’t deny that it added to his ever-growing handsomeness.

You gave him a small smile but didn’t quite get enough time to thank him before Sanji jumped up from the hole, anger evident on his face as he walked to stand in front of the swordsman.

“Oi marimo, what the fuck were you thinking? You almost gave Y/N a heart attack with that stunt!” Sanji began shouting.

“None of your damn business cook.” Zoro bit back angrily.

You reluctantly moved away from Zoro and Sanji, their impending fight would surely go on for some time as you turned your attention to the open hole.

Once the hole was closed, you slowly sat down on the deck and laid back with your eyes closed, your attempt to hold onto the last bit of energy dissipated.

Zoro didn’t know what made his mind wander back to you during his argument with the cook. His eye had gone past the blonde hair to see you lying on the floor. Abruptly ending his petty fight with Sanji, Zoro walked past the cook to go over to you. Sanji looked back at the swordsman fuming, clearly not satisfied with the ending to their fight. Upon seeing you on the floor and realising why Zoro stopped, a quiet ‘shit’ came out of Sanji as he also made his way over to you.

“Y/N-chan, are you okay?” Sanji asked worriedly.

You looked up to see Sanji and Zoro watching you. You politely nodded, not wanting to make a fuss.

“I’m okay, I just need a min-oof.” Cut off mid sentence, Zoro picked you up bridal style and carried you over the deck towards the girls cabin ignoring the cooks swearing behind him. Zoro really didn’t understand what possessed him to do this. It was like his mind lost control and it had been pure instinct that led him to this.

You let him carry you, all your energy was spent and you were too lethargic to protest against it. You had to stop yourself from snuggling your face into his chest, remembering how much you missed being close to him. You ended up hearing a couple ‘ooos’ coming from Nami and Usopp.

‘You didn’t even know they were watching you…how embarrassing!’ You mentally groaned knowing Nami would definitely tease you about this later.

The sounds across the ship dimmed as Zoro continued to head under the deck.

After a quick wrong turn and correction in direction, Zoro finally made it to the girls cabin. He pushed the door open with his back and walked over to the first bed he saw. He gently laid you down, carefully unfastening your sword from your waist and leaning it against the bedside table. Your head hit and slowly sunk into the pillow, your head and body feeling heavy. Before you could say anything, Zoro grunted out a quick ‘thank you for the food trip’ and left the room swiftly. You couldn’t do anything but stare at the door he left. The exhaustion kicked in, lulling you to sleep for the rest of the afternoon.

After closing the door, Zoro’s grip on the door handle tightened.

‘Why did I do that?!’

Zoro thought, questioning himself.

Zoro felt overwhelmed and decided he needed a drink.

————————————- ⚔️✨ ————————————

Night fell as you slept peacefully for what you predicted was at least a few hours. The abrupt sound of breakage and shouting, hearing unfamiliar voices was what woke you from your slumber. Opening your eyes without letting yourself blink out the sleep, your adrenaline kicked in as you rushed out of bed and grabbed your sword. You slammed the door open, letting it hit the wall behind as you ran out to the deck to see the commotion. What you could only describe the scene unfolding in front of you was chaos; the Sunny had been invaded by pirates! You could see your crew scattered around fighting against the invaders, noticing one of the sails was set on fire that lit the ship in the darkness of the night.

“Oh my god.” You whispered under your breath amongst the sounds of clashes and scrapes of weapons.

Taking a quick breath, you lunged with your sword at a group of unsuspecting pirates quickly bringing them down. You felt the floor vibrate behind you from the sound of running, whipping behind you to see you were almost about to be jumped by another group of pirates until Luffy swung his stretched leg to kick them off the ship into the sea. You looked up to see your captain swinging across the ship like a monkey, truly living up to his name.

As you scanned over the rest of the ship, you saw your crew were holding their own fights until you noticed Chopper was struggling to hold his against another group of pirates. You ran towards him, shouting for him to duck as you slashed the pirates across their chests, dropping one by one to the floor. You quickly glanced down at Chopper to see he was alright, he looked shaken up with tears in his eyes filled with appreciation. Just as you were about to grab him and take him to safety, another pirate walked into your vision.

“Go Chopper, I’ve got this.”

You quickly signaled Chopper to leave as you readied yourself, the young doctor not needing to be told twice as he ran to safety.

Bringing your attention to the pirate who now stood a few feet away in front of you, you noticed he was well kept for a pirate compared to others you had met before. You couldn’t deny he was handsome, his black hair kept short, his strength illuminated through the strong body covered in fine, expensive silk. You didn’t let that distract you as you felt his dark energy practically seeping from him. He held a large, bejeweled royal blue sword in his right hand.

‘Why did he seem so familiar?’

You readied yourself, your sword held strong in your grip. You weren’t going to let him hurt anyone.

“Angel, it doesn’t have to be this way. After all, I’m only here to claim what's mine.” His deep voice resonated out as he grinned.

“Don’t fucking call me angel, who are you?” You angrily bit back as you pointed your sword at him.

“I’m Enver…we’ve met before but you don’t seem to remember me.”

“Why are you here?” You eyed him suspiciously, scouring your memory to try to pinpoint where you could have supposedly met him with no luck.

“Why, I’m here for you.” His voice exhumed confidence. You tried to swallow your anxiety down, feeling acid lodged in your throat and your heart beating faster than it ever had before.

“What do you want with me?” You cautiously persisted, trying to keep your voice from breaking.

He chuckled darkly before taking a step forward and leaning in to face you at your level.

“To be mine.”

[jrob64]

Pet for Rent , Chapter 4/4 (The Happy Ending) A CS Modern AU Story

And so we've reached the end of this little journey. Thank you for reading this story that was one way for me to move through my grief of losing Zeke. Some of you have mentioned that you've lost a pet and reading this has helped you, and that makes me very happy

This chapter earns the story its M rating, but the smut is bracketed by double rows of asterisks and can be easily skipped.

Thanks one more time to @hookedmom, who helped me work out the ending until it was satisfactory to both of us.

Chapter Summary: Henry, Emma, Killian and Winston get their happy ending.

Chapters on Tumblr: Ch. 1 (The Meet Cute) Ch. 2 (The Idea) Ch. 3 (The Adoption)

Rating: M (See note above)

Words: 9319

Also posted to Ao3 and ffn

Story begins under the cut

Winston’s routine between the two households was firmly established during the next month. He spent weekdays with Killian at his apartment, and evenings at Emma and Henry’s house. On the weekends, all four of them spent as much time together as possible.

Emma and Killian were both happy to see that the dog was housebroken and didn’t require a lot of extra work. He did crave attention at times and demonstrated some behaviors that made them think he still had some puppy in him, but the three humans were consistent in their training to stop him from jumping up and barking excessively.

From the very first night he spent with them, he didn’t need to be put outside until morning, and slept soundly on Henry’s bed. The boy and dog formed a fast friendship and once again, Emma had her happy-go-lucky son back. He kept a picture of Ernie on his dresser and mentioned how much he still missed him from time to time, but the joy of having a new dog was healing his heart.

On Fridays and Saturdays, Killian would stay for a few hours after Emma got Henry into bed. They watched television, had lengthy conversations and kissed…a lot. Once they were sure Winston was acclimated to his new environment, they were able to plan another date to eat out and see a movie.

Their relationship was deepening, but they had yet to declare their love for one another. Killian was sure of his feelings for Emma, but didn’t want to spook her by saying anything. Emma wanted to make sure what she felt wasn’t just an infatuation. She had only fallen in love with one other man and had her heart shattered into a million pieces. She couldn’t afford to be wrong about her feelings again, especially since she now had Henry to take into consideration.

The bond between Henry and Killian was getting stronger as well. The two of them watched sporting events on TV, played video games, worked on training Winston and built Lego sets together. Emma was happy her son had a male figure in his life now, but worried about what would happen if Killian decided to move away from Storybrooke.

The first substantial snowfall of the season happened on a Friday in early December. School was letting out at noon due to the storm, which put Emma in a bind. Ashley couldn’t watch him because she was away for the weekend. Emma had already arranged to take off work at three o’clock instead of five, but she wasn’t able to leave another three hours early.

When she considered who else would be willing to help, the next person who came to mind was Killian. As she quickly placed the call, she tapped her fingernails nervously on the desk.

He answered before she even heard it connect. “Swan! This is a nice surprise.”

“You might not think so when I tell you why I’m calling.”

She could hear the instant concern in his voice when he asked, “Is something wrong?”

“They’re letting school out in half an hour because of the weather and Ashley is out of town. I can’t get off work until three o’clock and I need somebody to pick Henry up and watch him until…”

“Calm down, Love,” he interrupted. “Winston and I will pick him up and take him home.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind? I don’t want to take you away from your work…”

“No worries. I’m finished for the day because I already put in extra hours this week.”

“Oh, good,” she said, breathing a sigh of relief. “I’ll call the school and tell them you’ll be picking him up. Since you’re not an authorized pick-up person, you’ll have to go inside to fill out a form when you get there. I’ll also text Mary Margaret and let her know. I really, really appreciate this, Killian.”

“It’s truly no problem, Love. I’ll get Winston ready to go right now. We should be there in about twenty minutes. Will that work?”

“That’s perfect. I need to warn you that it’s probably going to be a bit chaotic in the school office because of the early release.”

“Duly noted. I’ll send you a text when I’ve collected Henry and we’re in the car ready to go home.”

“Thanks, again. You’re a lifesaver.”

Ending the call, she sent up a prayer of thanks and went back to work.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Emma was right about the chaos in the office. Killian had to wait several minutes before they could verify who he was and hand him a form to complete. Just as he was signing his name at the bottom, Mary Margaret ushered Henry in the door, along with two of her other students, whose parents were also waiting.

“Killian!” Henry cried, spotting him immediately.

“Hello, lad. Your mom asked me to pick you up.”

“Yeah, Mrs. Nolan told me. Thanks!”

“You’ll have to sign him out,” Mary Margaret explained, gesturing to the line of parents who were waiting to do that very thing. “Be careful driving home.”

“Thank you. You do the same,” Killian responded, stepping behind the last person in line.

Once Henry was properly signed out, they slipped and slid through the accumulating snow to where Killian had parked the car. Winston started barking from inside as soon as he caught sight of his boy.

While Henry greeted the dog and got himself buckled in, Killian texted Emma, then started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. So far, the snow was just making the roads slushy, but with such precious cargo in the back seat, he drove with extra caution.

By the time Emma arrived home three hours later, the snow was making travel hazardous. Killian heard her come in the door and paused the video game he and Henry were playing.

She was stomping off her boots and shaking the snow out of her hair when he greeted her. “Did you have any trouble, Love?”

“The roads are terrible and the snow is picking up, which means they’re only going to get worse.”

He helped her out of her coat and hung it on one of the hooks on the wall. As she sat on a bench to pull off her boots, he scratched behind his ear and said wistfully, “Perhaps I should just go home now, if they’re getting that bad.”

She glanced up at him, then back down as she finished her task. Once both of her boots were sitting on the rug, she stood and looked toward the living room. “What’s Henry doing?”

“We were playing a video game. He’s probably waiting for me to rejoin him.”

“Let me go say hi to him, then I have something to ask you.”

“Okay, but first…” he said, wrapping his arms around her and giving her a tender kiss. “Welcome home, Love. I’m very glad you made it safely.”

“Mmm, me too, especially when I get a greeting like that.” After giving him one more kiss, she linked their hands and led the way to the living room. Henry was sitting on the couch petting Winston, who was laying beside him. Both of them perked up when the adults entered the room, a wide grin splitting Henry’s face, while Winston thumped his tail on the cushions.

“Hey, kid. How was school today?”

“Great! I wish we could get out early every day!”

Emma laughed. “I wouldn’t count on it. Were you able to go to art class? I know how you look forward to it.”

“We still got to go and I finished my Rainbow Fish project. It turned out really good!”

“Oh, yeah? Did you bring it home?”

“No, it had to finish drying. Mrs. Fisher said she wants to hang it up in the hallway.”

“Maybe I’ll schedule a day to come in and have lunch with you, and you can show it to me then. How does that sound?”

“Cool! I love it when you have lunch with me!”

“I know. I love it, too. Let me know when it’s hung up, okay?” She watched him nod his agreement, then asked, “What have you three boys been up to this afternoon?”

“We went out and played in the snow for a little while, but it got too windy and cold. Killian made hot chocolate when we came inside. Winston loved the snow, didn’t you, boy?”

“He was trying to catch all of the snowflakes,” Killian laughed. “Then he started eating the snow on the ground. He’s such a funny pooch.”

“Show her the picture you took, Killian,” Henry urged.

Killian pulled his phone out of his front pocket and opened his photo gallery. Holding it so Emma could see, he said, “I took several pictures and a couple of videos.”

As he started scrolling through them, he didn’t see the doey-eyed look she gave him before directing her attention to what he was showing her. When he came to the last picture, she burst out laughing. In it, Henry was kneeling on the ground beside Winston, who had snow all over his muzzle.

“He looks like he has a white beard,” she giggled.

“Aye, Whitebeard the Weird, distant relative of Blackbeard the Pirate,” Killian chuckled.

Emma laughed again, then asked her son, “Where did you put your wet clothes?”

“Killian put them in the dryer.”

“Henry showed me where it was located.”

“Thank you. He usually lets them lay in a heap inside the door.” Turning back to Henry, she said, “What else did you do?”

He picked up the Nintendo Switch controller, gesturing to the TV with it. “We played video games until you got home.”

“Sounds like you guys had a good time.”

“We did,” Henry assured her. “And don’t worry, Mom. I thanked Killian for everything.”

“Aye, he did. Henry has very good manners, don’t you, lad?” Killian said, ruffling the boy’s hair.

“Yeah. Are you ready to finish our game?”

“Your mother wanted to talk to me about something first, then I should probably head home. She said the roads are getting bad.”

Henry’s shoulders drooped. “But I thought you would stay like you always do on Fridays.”

Emma said, “Henry, why don’t you play a game by yourself for a while, so I can talk to Killian?”

“Can I play Mario Kart?”

“You know the rules - only if you turned in all of your homework and didn’t get your card pulled for bad behavior this week.”

He jumped off the couch and grabbed his book bag from the recliner where he had tossed it when he got home. Unzipping it, he pulled out a folder and handed it to his mom.

She took it and pulled out the papers from the ‘keep at home’ side, placing them on the end table to look at later. Then she took a sheet from the ‘return to school’ pocket. After looking it over, she gave Henry a smile and kissed him on the forehead. “Good job, kid. I’m proud of you.”

While he was putting the folder back in his bag, she went to the closet and got the treasured game off the shelf above the coat rack. As soon as he got the game set up and was fully engaged in choosing his racer, Emma motioned for Killian to follow her into the kitchen.

She leaned against the front of the sink out of Henry’s line of sight, and Killian stood in front of her, his hands on her hips. “What did you want to talk to me about, Swan?” he asked, a concerned crease across his forehead.

Her eyes remained focused on the floor for several moments. When she finally looked up, there were tears in them.

He stepped closer, dipping his head to scan her face. “Emma, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she answered quickly. “I just…I…I think I love you.”

Killian’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. “Wh-what?”

“I love you. I’ve fallen in love with you, Killian Jones.”

He surged forward, claiming the lips that just uttered the words which were music to his ears. He could have kissed her for hours, but he needed to ask her a question. “When?”

“When did I fall in love with you?” she asked, seeking to clarify.

“Aye. When did you know?”

She licked her lips. “I think I’ve been falling for you since the first day we met, but I wanted to make sure it’s really love that I feel. I’ve been burned before, and with Henry to consider, I didn’t want to jump right into a serious relationship. Then today, I just…I realized…I mean, you’re there for me, for us. You’re wonderful with Henry and it…it’s not because you’re trying to impress me or win my affections through my son. You honestly seem to like spending time with him. You dropped everything to pick him up today and then, those videos and pictures…you took videos and pictures of my kid because you were having fun with him.”

She paused for a second and he waited, understanding she needed to gather her thoughts. “But it’s not just because of Henry. That’s important, but it…it’s the way you make me feel. I love every minute we spend together. I can never get enough of being with you. As soon as you leave, I immediately look forward to the next time we’ll see each other. I…I…oh hell, I’m rambling and not making any sense.”

“You’re making perfect sense. I completely understand what you’re trying to say.”

“You do?”

He framed her face with his hands, brushing the apples of her cheeks with his thumbs. “Aye, because I feel the same way. You’re the best part of my day, whether we’re texting, talking, or actually together. I truly do love spending time with Henry because he’s such a great kid and I would never use him to try to impress you, Emma.” He brushed a kiss across her lips. “I’ve known for a while, too. That I love you. I’m in love with you, Emma Swan.”

The brightness of her smile was nearly blinding and it was her turn to initiate the fiery kiss. Afterwards, they stood with their foreheads pressed together, while her fingers played with the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck. “Can I ask you something?” she whispered.

“Of course, Love. Anything.”

She looked into his eyes. “Are you still thinking about moving away from Storybrooke?”

“No,” he answered without hesitation. “I’ve got every reason in the world to stay right here.”

“Good.”

He kissed her sweetly, then sighed. “I hate to ruin this moment, but I really should get started for home. The road conditions are probably worsening by the minute.”

“Actually, that was the original reason I wanted to talk to you. I was thinking that maybe…you could…stay here tonight.”

“Why, Swan,” he teased, “are you inviting me to a sleepover?”

“Well, it would be a very adult sleepover,” she said, watching him closely to gauge his reaction.

He tilted his head and studied her for a moment or two. “Are you saying…you want me to actually sleep with you?”

“I guess we would sleep eventually…”

“Emma, are you sure you’re ready to take that next step?”

“You’re not?”

“I’m not saying that at all,” he said quickly. “I just…would you be comfortable having me stay with you when Henry is right down the hall? We could…we could wait until we’re at my place, if you’d rather.”

“This isn’t spur of the moment, Killian. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. I think Henry is too young to understand what it means for you to spend the night and still be here in the morning. He just loves having you here and is always sad to see you leave. I’m not saying it’s going to be something that happens every night…”

“I wouldn’t expect that, especially during the week, but perhaps on the weekends?”

“That’s what I was thinking. Of course, we might be jumping the gun to consider more than tonight. You might be appalled by my snoring, drooling, or what I look like first thing in the morning. Or maybe we won’t be…compatible…in bed.”

He grinned. “I highly doubt that will be the case, Emma. Ever since the day we met, I’ve felt like we have a connection to each other that goes beyond friendship. I can’t imagine that not transferring to the bedroom. As far as your snoring and drooling, I’m sure I’ll find it to be absolutely adorable.”

“Whatever you say,” she scoffed. “But when you wake up with my morning breath in your face, you might change your mind.”

“I’m willing to risk it,” he smirked.

She began playing with the buttons on his shirt. “There’s, um…there’s one more thing I need to tell you.”

“What’s that, Love?”

After stepping away from him to check on Henry in the other room, she returned to face him again. “I haven’t been…intimate with anyone since Henry’s father. Henry is my world and everything else has taken a back seat.”

“Which is quite understandable,” Killian said. “It’s been a while for me, too. After getting hurt like I did, I was in no hurry to be with another woman. You have changed so many things in my life, Emma, and I’m anxious to begin this next chapter with you and Henry.”

“Don’t forget Winston,” she quipped.

“How could I forget Winston?” he laughed.

“Okay, so how about we get some supper and watch a movie like we usually do on Friday nights? My guess is that after the excitement of the day, Henry will be asleep before it’s over.”

“That sounds wonderful, Love. What were you planning to eat?”

“I was planning to order pizza, but with the roads the way they are, I think we better go with plan B.”

“Which is…?”

“I have no idea.”

He chuckled and kissed her forehead. “Do you mind if I search your cupboards a bit?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and crooned, “You can search anything you want.”

“Swan, are you flirting with me to get me riled up?”

“Maybe. Is it working?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he teased.

“Perhaps I would,” she answered, before scattering kisses along his throat.

“Bad form, Love,” he groaned.

“You don’t like it?” she asked innocently, looking up at him through her lashes.

“I like it too much, that’s the problem,” he said, pressing his hips against hers so she could feel the effect she was having on him.

“Okay, I’ll stop…for now,” she said. She started to move away and he reluctantly released her. “Dig around to your heart’s content and I’ll go see what movie Henry wants to watch.”

Killian ended up making spaghetti with garlic toast for supper. Afterwards, they watched “Luck” on AppleTV, while munching on chocolate chip cookies Emma whipped up. She and Killian managed to make the food while sharing lots of kisses in the kitchen.

Henry didn’t question Killian staying instead of going home; he was simply happy to carry on with their usual Friday evening routine. He made it through the movie without falling asleep, but was reluctant to move when it ended. Emma realized that he wanted Killian to carry him to his room, which he did, making her heart melt as she watched.

While Emma took Henry through his bedtime routine, Killian put Winston outside to do his business. Although he had cleared the patio of snow earlier in the evening, it was covered again.

When he took Winston into Henry’s room after toweling him off, he reported, “I’d say there’s at least six inches of snow and it’s still coming down.”

“Oh, boy!” Henry exclaimed, perking up. “Can you come over tomorrow to play in it with us again?”

Killian scratched behind his ear, looking to Emma for help.

“Actually kid, Killian is going to stay here overnight,” she said.

“He is?”

“Yeah. The roads are pretty bad and I didn’t want him to risk driving home. Is that okay with you?”

Henry gave her a puzzled look. “Sure. Why wouldn’t it be okay?”

Emma shrugged. “He’s never spent the night here before.”

“Well, he should, because we’re usually together all day on Saturdays, too. It doesn’t make sense for him to go home.”

Killian and Emma exchanged a look, then he bid the boy goodnight, patted Winston and left the room so she could read to her son.

After kissing Henry and closing the door to his room, she found Killian sitting on the couch. “Well, I guess that answers the question of whether it’s going to bother Henry,” she said, plopping down beside him.

“Aye,” he chuckled, but she noticed he didn’t look at her.

“Hey,” she said, reaching to take his hand. “Is something wrong?”

“I, uh, I…if we’re going to take that next step in our relationship, I’m concerned about what to do because I don’t have any kind of protection.”

“Well, I obviously don’t have any STDs and I assume you don’t, either.”

“I don’t, but what about preventing you from getting pregnant?”

“Oh, that’s not a problem. I have an IUD. My doctor suggested it because I had such heavy periods after Henry was born.”

“Well, that is a relief,” he said, finally looking at her. “Did Henry fall asleep while you were reading to him?”

“He was out before I read half a page. He actually held out longer than I thought.”

“Tomorrow will be another fun day in the snow for him.”

She turned on the sofa to face him, draping her legs over his. “I was meaning to ask you - did you bring along clothes to wear out in the snow?”

“Aye. Liam advised that I keep extra clothes in the car during the winter months, so I changed into them once we came inside.”

“Did you dry them with Henry’s clothes?”

“I did. I hope that was alright.”

“Of course. I want you to make yourself at home here. I was thinking it might be nice to put up the Christmas tree tomorrow.”

“That’s a wonderful idea. I’m sure Henry loves doing that.”

“Oh yes, he really gets into it,” she laughed. “Although I’m sure you can’t imagine him getting excited about anything!”

Her sarcasm made him chuckle. “That’s one reason why I enjoy being with him so much. He’s enthusiastic about everything.”

“You clearly haven’t seen him do his chores.”

“Well, that’s true,” he agreed with a grin. “I suppose that’s typical for a kid.”

“Not just a kid. I hate doing chores, too.”

“You know,” he said, wrapping his arms around her to pull her into his lap, “I could think of much better things to talk about than chores.”

She adjusted herself so her knees were on either side of his hips, her hands on his shoulders and her forehead resting against his. “Like the fact that I love you?”

“Aye, that’s a much better subject,” he said, nuzzling her nose. They indulged in a long, slow kiss, while their hands roamed each other’s body. “I love you, too,” Killian murmured against her lips. In response, she deepened the kiss and adjusted her position, putting more pressure on his groin. “Swan…” he rasped.

“Maybe we should move to the bedroom,” she whispered in his ear.

The tickling sensation and implication of her words served to increase his arousal. “I like that idea, Love.”

She kissed him one more time, then pushed herself off of him. Threading her fingers through his, she tugged him to his feet. As they quietly moved down the hall, Emma stopped outside Henry’s door, listening intently. Giving a nod, they continued into her bedroom and she closed the door behind them.

“He’s out for the night,” she commented.

“You can tell that just by listening for a few seconds?”

“He’s a mouth breather, a loud one. He probably needs to have his tonsils and adenoids removed, but up until now, I haven’t had a job with good insurance. I just haven’t taken him to the doctor yet.”

“What about Winston?”

“If he needs his tonsils and adenoids out, I’ll let you pay for it,” she teased.

“You’re hilarious, Swan,” he remarked, trying to look stern, but failing to keep the smile from taking over his face.

“Yeah, I know,” she smirked. “Winston has slept through the night since the first night we brought him home.”

“In that case,” Killian said, sauntering into her personal space, “I guess the night is ours.”

“I guess so,” she said, then nervously pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

Tilting his head, he looked into her eyes for several seconds, then brushed some locks of blonde hair over her shoulder. “Emma, please don’t feel like we have to go ahead with this if you’re…”

“No, Killian,” she interrupted firmly. “I really want this, I’m just…out of practice, I guess.”

He put his hands on her waist and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “Relax, Love. Just let things happen naturally, and if they don’t, then we sleep instead. No pressure, okay?”

“You know, the first time I saw you, I had to convince myself you were real. I was sure no one as handsome as you could actually exist. And now, you say something like that and I have to convince myself that you’re real all over again. I mean, when a guy’s girlfriend is offering them sex, how many would say it’s okay if it doesn’t happen?”

“Probably more than you think. I would hope there are more gentlemen than rogues out there.”

Emma thought about that for a few moments, before saying, “I should wash my face and brush my teeth. Why don’t you, um, get comfortable in here and I’ll go take care of that.”

He watched her leave the room, then ran his hands through his hair. He longed to show Emma how much he loved her, but the last thing he wanted was for her to feel uncomfortable or pressured in any way. After stripping down to his navy blue boxers and white T-shirt, he sat on the bed to wait for her to return.

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, she was quietly berating herself in the mirror. “You have this sweet, sexy, perfect boyfriend in your bedroom and you come running in here like a scared rabbit. What is wrong with you?” she asked her reflection. When she didn’t receive an answer, she sighed, tossed a washcloth into the sink and turned on the hot water.

After she finished in the bathroom and padded back to her room, she tapped lightly on the door before entering. Killian looked up at her from his seat on the bed, concern etched on his face. “Alright there, Swan?”

She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. I, um, I laid an extra toothbrush out for you if you wanted to, um, brush your teeth,” she stammered.

“Thank you, Love.” He stood up and slipped out the door.

Emma used the time to change out of her clothes and into a turquoise nightshirt that barely covered her underwear. She was standing in front of her dresser brushing her hair when she heard a soft knock on the door. “Come in,” she said, when it didn’t open right away.

As Killian entered, she saw his reflection in the mirror. She hadn’t gotten a good look at him before he left the room; but now, she saw that he was utterly tantalizing in very little clothing. It made her mouth go dry, but at the same time, made all of her nervousness vanish.

Turning toward him, she saw the anticipation on his face and quickly crossed the space between them. Standing in front of him, she reached up and cupped his face, then pulled him down to connect their lips, trying to pour every ounce of her love into the kiss.

His arms wrapped around her, pulling her snugly against himself. She’d been in his arms many times, but there were always more layers of clothing between them. Feeling his well-defined chest pressed against hers and his strong back under her roaming hands, she could feel her own body reacting.

Finally breaking the kiss, she said breathlessly, “I’m sorry for being so hesitant. I asked you to stay and then I let my nerves and insecurities get to me. It’s just that, in the past, people were always letting me down…”

“Let me assure you, Love,” he said, softly stroking the tips of his fingers over her cheek, “I don’t intend to let you down or hurt you in any way. You mean far too much to me to ever let that happen, trust me.”

Her eyes searched his, knowing she would see nothing but sincerity and love in them. “I do trust you,” she whispered. Taking his hands, she backed up until the backs of her knees hit the bed, then sat down and pulled him down beside her.

*********

*********

“I’m yours,” she said. “Make love to me, Killian.”

Twisting his body, he embraced her, then rolled them until he was on top of her in the middle of the mattress. “As you wish,” he grinned.

They took their time undressing each other between impassioned kisses, their lips finding the skin that was revealed with every discarded article of clothing. Killian paid special attention to Emma’s bare breasts when he removed her shirt, his mouth and calloused fingers on the sensitive flesh making her body sizzle with desire.

When she pushed his boxers down his legs, her eyes widened as she took in the size of his manhood. Her hand wrapped around it, the smooth skin feeling like satin on her palm.

As she slowly stroked him, his fingers moved between her thighs, feeling the damp heat. She widened her legs as one finger made its way inside her. “Killiannn,” she whined.

“Does that feel good?” he murmured into her ear.

“Yesss…so good.”

“What you’re doing feels good to me, too,” he assured her. He pushed himself up to lean on one elbow, sweeping his eyes up and down her form. “Gods, Emma. You’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen,” he praised. “You’re absolutely perfect.”

Her hands moved to his chest, fingers swirling through the generous dusting of hair. “So are you.” The fingers of one hand followed the dark trail of hair down his belly and between his legs to fondle his testicles, satisfied when she heard his sharp intake of breath.

They continued to explore, working one another up until both were panting and pleading. Killian took his time ensuring that Emma was prepared, using his fingers around and inside her opening to make her slick with arousal. At the same time, her attention to his cock and the way she scratched her fingernails over the skin of his chest and back made him the hardest he’d ever been.

As he sucked love marks into the soft skin of her breast and rubbed his thumb over her clit, she gasped, “Killian, I…I’m ready.”

He looked up at her through his long, dark lashes. Her skin was flushed, her tongue licking at her kiss-swollen lips. As his eyes connected with her lust-filled green ones, a rush of love and longing crashed over him. “I love you, Emma,” he said, moving up to seal the declaration with another kiss.

“I love you, too. So much,” she replied, running her fingers through his damp strands of hair. Then she shifted on the bed so he could settle between her thighs.

Holding himself above her on one elbow, he reached down to grasp his cock, rubbing it through her slick, wet folds, then slowly began pushing forward. His eyes scanned up her body to study her face, hoping to catch any sign of discomfort in her features. He halted his progress when he detected a slight grimace. “Does that hurt?” he asked.

“No, no,” she assured him. “It burns a little, but mostly it feels…amazing. Please don’t stop.”

He was happy to hear those words, because being only partially inside her felt incredible, and he yearned to keep going. Dropping his elbow down to the other side of her body, he pulled back a little, then pressed forward again, going deeper inch by inch, until he was fully engulfed in her warm, tight sheath.

Resting his head on her chest, he ground out, “Bloody hell, Emma. You feel fucking fantastic.”

She skimmed her hands through his hair. “It feels like you were made for me,” she whispered. Bending her knees, she pulled her feet up beside his hips and gave a slight thrust of her pelvis.

He got the hint and began rocking slowly, savoring every moan and gasp from her. Sensing that she had adjusted to his size, he pulled out until only his tip was still inside, then slid all the way back in with one stroke, gradually picking up the pace.

“Faster…deeper,” she begged.

He obliged, thrusting into her several times in quick succession. Her hips raised off the bed to meet him every time, while her fingers gripped his hair almost painfully.

“Killian, I can’t…I’m going to…”

“Let go, Love,” he encouraged, knowing she was right on the edge.

Throbbing heat and a sudden flood of wetness around his cock told him that she followed his command. She crossed her ankles behind his back, trying to pull him closer, while her head thrashed back and forth on the pillow.

He stilled within her, trying to delay his own climax. As good as it felt to have her pulsing around him, he didn’t want it to end so soon.

“T-top,” she mumbled.

“You want to be on top?”

“Mmhmm.”

After wrapping his arms around her, he carefully rolled them over. Emma planted her hands on his chest and pushed herself up, her knees tight against his hips. His hands gripped her forearms as she began lifting and lowering her pelvis, his cock sliding in, then almost out of her over and over again.

Killian was muttering a steady string of praises, telling her how perfect she was and how good she felt. Raising his head, his mouth found one of her nipples, alternately rolling his tongue over it and sucking hard. The effect caused her rhythm to stutter and she threw her head back, letting out a long, guttural moan of his name.

Feeling his release growing imminently closer, he started thrusting up into her. His hand moved down to find her clit, rubbing it roughly as he groaned, “Come again, Emma. Please come, Love. I…I can’t…”

  With one final slide down on him, she did, shuddering and shaking as she cried out, “Yes! Yes, Killian!”

Watching her ecstasy, hearing her shouts and feeling her pulse around him brought him to his peak, too. He jerked and spasmed, spurting hot streams of cum inside her.

When she collapsed on top of him several moments later, he held her close, murmuring words of adoration into her hair. Gradually, their breathing and heart rates returned to normal, and Killian groped around the bed, finding the blanket and pulling it over the top of them.

*********

*********

Emma sighed happily, pressing kisses to his throat and collarbone. “That was amazing! I know it’s been a while, but I don’t remember sex ever being that good.”

“Well, that’s because you’ve never done it with me before,” he chuckled. Hearing her hum of agreement, he added, “It’s never been like that for me, either. Then again, I’ve never loved anyone like I love you. I think that’s what made it so much more intense and meaningful.”

She lifted her head and rested her chin on his sternum, looking into his face. “I’m sure you’re right about that. I’m very glad we decided to take this next step. I feel like we’re more closely connected now.” She wiggled her hips, causing his softening length to shift inside her. “In more ways than one.”

He grinned and reached up to tuck her hair behind her ears. “Meeting you and Henry is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Leaning forward, she kissed him; a slow, tender kiss that communicated her feelings more than words ever could. They cuddled a while longer before Emma slipped her shirt back on and went to the bathroom to clean up, bringing a warm washcloth back so Killian could do the same. After he put his boxers on and visited the bathroom himself, they burrowed under the covers, intertwining themselves and sharing more kisses until they finally drifted off to sleep - content, sated and thoroughly in love.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Emma awoke slowly the next morning, the smell of coffee tickling her nose. When her foggy brain remembered what happened the night before, she reached over to find the other side of the bed empty. Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes and stretched.

She felt pleasantly sore in all the right places and smiled when she remembered how she had awakened in the middle of the night to find Killian watching her sleep. The sliver of moonlight seeping in through the slight opening between the curtains illuminated his mischievous blue eyes. It was then she realized he had worked her shirt up above her breasts and was gently massaging them. Soon they were engaged in round two, finding more ways to bring pleasure to one another.

Flinging back the blanket, she grabbed a robe out of her closet and put it on as she walked down the hall. She could hear Henry chattering before she reached the kitchen.

“...and after we play in the snow, we can play more games and watch movies and…”

“Slow down, lad,” she heard Killian say, his gruff morning voice sending shivers down her spine. “I think your mother has some plans for us today.”

“That’s right,” she said, joining them. “I think you’ll like what I have planned.” Peeking over Henry’s shoulder, she asked, “What are you eating, kid?”

“Killian made egg in a basket!” he said excitedly. “It’s really good and he told me he would teach you how to make it too, if you want.”

“Is that so?” she asked, passing behind the ‘chef’ and discreetly pinching his side.

“Bad form, Swan,” he chided playfully. “And to think I made coffee and breakfast for you.”

“Sorry,” she said, stretching to her tiptoes to kiss the underside of his scruffy jaw. He turned so her next kiss was to his lips.

“You guys are being gross,” Henry complained, making the couple laugh. “So what are we doing today, Mom?”

She poured herself a mug of coffee, splashed some creamer into it, then leaned against the counter to take a sip before answering, “I thought we would put up the Christmas tree and decorate it. How does that sound?”

“YAY!” Henry shouted. Winston started barking from where he lay under the table.

“Winston, enough!” Killian commanded and the dog quieted immediately.

“Good morning, sweet boy,” Emma said, bending down to ruffle his ears. “I didn’t see you under there.” Straightening up, she asked her son, “Did you already feed him?”

Henry’s ears reddened. “Uh, no. I forgot.”

Emma gave him a stern look. “You know you’re supposed to feed your dog before you sit down to eat, young man.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” he said, hopping out of his seat and going to the pantry where the dog’s food was stored.

“Apologize to Winston, not me.”

Henry scooped out the food and dumped it into Winston’s bowl. “I’m sorry, boy,” he said, as he set it down beside the refrigerator where the dog sat waiting.

Killian laughed as he watched Winston inhaling his food like he was afraid it was going to disappear. “I think he forgives you, lad.” Looking at Emma, he added, “I already put him outside to do his business. The snow is up to his belly, but he found a spot by the side of the house that wasn’t quite as deep.”

“How long have you been up?” she questioned.

Killian glanced at the clock on the microwave. “Almost an hour.”

“Wow, you’re a morning person. It usually takes me half-an-hour just to pry my eyes open and get out of bed, especially on a Saturday.”

“Well, you know what they say - opposites attract,” he said, setting a plate of food in front of her and sitting down beside her with his own.

As they began to eat, Henry returned to the table and asked, “When are we gonna put up the tree, Mom?”

“You can help decide. Do you want to do it before or after we play in the snow?”

He thought for a second. “Let’s go outside first. Can we bake gingerbread cookies like we did last year, when we decorated the tree?”

“I’m afraid not. We don’t have the necessary ingredients for that kind of cookie.”

Seeing Henry’s disappointed look, Killian said, “I know a good recipe for sugar cookies. Do you like that kind? I know your mother has all the ingredients for them.”

Henry perked up again. “Yeah! Can we decorate them? We have sprinkles left from when you tried to make cupcakes for Avery’s birthday, remember?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me of that fiasco,” Emma groaned, making Henry giggle.

Killian looked between the two of them. “Why was it a fiasco?”

She covered her face with her hands as she answered, “I forgot the baking powder.”

“Do you mean to say,” he began, trying to contain his laughter, “that you baked cupcakes and didn’t put any baking powder in them?”

Dropping her hands, she replied indignantly, “Hey, it happens to the best of us. I’ve seen episodes of the Great British Baking Show where the bakers forget to put in key ingredients.”

“Point taken. Did you take the cupcakes to the party?”

“Are you kidding? They looked like hockey pucks! Of course I didn’t take them to the party.”

Killian laughed heartily, while Emma tried and failed to give him a reproving look. Instead, she dissolved into laughter, too.

“Mom picked up cupcakes at the grocery on the way to the party,” Henry said, then shoved another bite of food into his mouth.

“Well, I promised to bring them, so I had to do something.”

“Very resourceful, Swan.”

By the end of breakfast, they had the day’s schedule worked out. They played in the snow as soon as they were all dressed, then drank hot chocolate and baked cookies. While waiting for the cookies to be cool enough to ice and decorate, Henry and Killian brought the small artificial tree in from the garage.

As they were setting it up, Emma explained, “Henry wants to have a live tree, but I told him he needs to be a little older, because I don’t think I could get one unloaded and set up by myself.”

“Ah, well, if it weren’t for the fact we’re snowed in today, I could have helped you with that,” Killian said. “Perhaps next year.”

“Yeah, that would be nice,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. “I hope we’ll still be together by then.”

He pulled her against him, wrapping her in his warm embrace. “I have every confidence we will, Love.”

The day was the most fun any of them could remember. They decorated cookies and the tree while listening to Christmas music, played some board games, then watched two Christmas movies with only the lights from the tree and television illuminating the living room. Killian sat on the couch between Emma and Henry, both of whom were snuggled close to his side.

Emma and Killian shared many affectionate caresses and kisses throughout the day, unable to keep from touching each other. That evening, after Henry and Winston were in bed, they spooned on the sofa, quietly discussing plans for the next day, Christmas and New Years Eve.

Both of them were hopeful and excited about their future together.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Eight Months Later

“Great pass, Nicholas!” Killian shouted, running along the sidelines to coach his players. “Keep it under control, Grace! Get open, Henry! There he is! Pass it, Grace!”

As Henry’s kick sent the soccer ball flying into the goal, Emma leaped from her seat with a cheer, causing Winston to jump up and start barking. Everyone around them laughed, used to the excitable black dog who was always at the games to watch his young master.

When the game ended, Killian’s team was victorious for the third week in a row. Henry shook hands with the other team, then sprinted over to his mom and Winston.

“Good game, kid!” Emma exclaimed, returning his hug. “Your team is doing great this year.”

“That’s because we have the best coach in the whole world!” he beamed, taking Winston’s leash from her as the dog jumped around him enthusiastically.

Emma watched Killian gather his clipboard and Henry’s water bottle. Several parents approached him to offer their words of appreciation, and she smiled as he humbly accepted them.

He really was too good to be true, except that he absolutely was…and he was hers.

She turned to fold up her lawn chair and collect Winston’s favorite ducky toy, and soon felt two strong arms wrap around her from behind.

“Congratulations, coach,” she said, twisting in his arms to kiss him.

“Thank you, Love. The team is really starting to gel, don’t you think?”

“That’s because, as Henry just said, they have the best coach in the world.”

“He said that?” Killian asked, rubbing self-consciously behind his ear.

“Yeah, and I agree. They love playing for you, Babe.”

“Well, they’re fun to coach. I’m glad you talked me into it.”

“Pfft,” Emma scoffed. “I’m not the one who did it. It was that nine-year-old con artist who lives with us.”

“He can be quite persuasive,” he conceded. “Takes after his mother.”

“Hey!” she said, lightly slapping his chest. “I never talk you into doing things you don’t want to do.”

“That’s very true,” he murmured into her ear. “I’m always up for what you want me to do.”

She giggled and engaged him in another kiss, only to be interrupted by a loud, exasperated, “Mom! Killian! You guys are embarrassing!”

They broke apart with a laugh. “Sorry, kid,” Emma said, not sounding one bit apologetic. “Ready to go home?”

“Actually, Henry and I thought it might be fun to go to the nature preserve this morning,” Killian said. “Is that alright with you, Swan?”

“Sounds good to me. I’m glad I wore sneakers instead of sandals.”

They headed to the car and were soon on their way to the preserve. Emma noticed Killian shifting in his seat and nervously tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“Oh, um, aye. Just working out some energy left over from the game.”

She studied him for several more moments, then shrugged slightly and turned to ask Henry what he wanted for lunch when they got home, later.

There were several cars in the main parking lot at the preserve, so Killian kept driving until they reached a more remote section. Winston always got distracted if there were too many people around, so they tried to stick to the paths that weren’t likely to be as busy.

Once they found a place to park and were out of the car, Henry and Winston started along the path that led into the woods. Emma and Killian trailed behind, falling into easy conversation, as always. Their current topic was Belle and Liam, who were due to return from their honeymoon the following day. Despite being wed at the beginning of June, the couple waited to go on their trip until August, because Liam could get airline tickets for a much better price late in the summer.

“Bloody wanker, always after a discount,” Killian grumbled, not for the first time. “Even for his honeymoon!”

“Belle didn’t seem to mind,” Emma pointed out. “She was excited because the best time to see Beluga Whales in Alaska is during the month of August. I hope they were able to see some.”

“Aye, me too. That’s probably the reason Liam booked it for this month, anyway. He just wants to make everyone think he’s a miser.”

Emma wrapped her arm around his more tightly and leaned into him. “I definitely got the better brother,” she stated playfully.

“That you did, Love,” he grinned, pressing a kiss to her temple.

After hiking for twenty minutes, they came to their favorite spot on the path - a small fishing pond surrounded by tall, reedy grass and cattails. Henry and Winston started exploring the perimeter of the water, in search of frogs. Ever since finding one at this pond earlier in the summer, they were determined to find another.

“Care to sit down for a bit, Love?” Killian asked, indicating a wooden bench.

“Yeah. I’m sure the two of them will want to stay here a while.”

They sat together in comfortable silence, listening to the chirping of birds and buzz of insects. Finally, Killian turned to her and said, “We’ve known each other for almost a year now, haven’t we?”

“We met in September, so it’ll be a year next month.”

“It’s been the best year of my life.”

“Mmhmm. Mine, too. Especially these last three months when you officially moved in with us.”

“Well, I did have to live somewhere, since the lease on my apartment was up,” he teased.

“Oh, so now the truth comes out,” she shot back with a giggle.

“Aye,” he sighed dramatically. “I only love you for your house.”

“You’re so full of it, Jones,” she said, elbowing him in the side.

He leaned back and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his side, both of them watching Henry and Winston chasing what looked like a dragonfly.

“Those two are something else,” she remarked.

“They’re both good boys. I’m very lucky to be part of their lives.”

Emma hummed. “We’re all very lucky to have you in our lives.”

After another lengthy pause, he murmured, “I love you, Emma.”

“I love you, too.”

He slipped from his seat and knelt in front of her. “Enough to marry me?” he asked, looking up into her eyes, widened in surprise.

“Killian…wh-what are you doing?” she stammered.

“Isn’t it obvious, Love? I’m proposing. But I guess I’ve forgotten something, haven’t I?” Unbuttoning the pocket on the side of his cargo shorts, he reached in and withdrew a diamond solitaire ring, holding it up between them. “Emma, we may have met because of a mistake, but I don’t think of it that way. I’m convinced it was God’s plan for us to meet in just the right place at exactly the right time. You, Henry and Winston are the center of my world and that’s where I want you to be for the rest of my life. So, Emma Swan, will you marry me?”

She brushed at the tears trickling down her cheeks as a huge smile crossed her face. “Yes, Killian! Of course I’ll marry you!”

He took her trembling hand in his and slid the ring into place. Then he wrapped her in his arms, kissing her hair, eyes, cheeks, and finally, her lips, salty with her tears.

Their celebration was cut short when Henry asked, “Did she say yes?”

Both of them dissolved into laughter. He was notorious for interrupting them when they were kissing, whether out of disgust or because he was simply oblivious.

“Aye, lad. She did,” Killian answered.

“Wait, you were in on this?” Emma asked her son.

“Yeah. Last night, Killian asked me if it was okay for him to marry you. I said it was, so that’s why we decided to come here after the game today - so he could oppose.”

“Propose,” Killian corrected, as Emma laughed.

Henry shrugged. “Whatever. So you’re getting married? We’re gonna be a real family?” His excitement grew as he realized what it all meant.

“Yeah, kid. We’ll officially become a family. What do you think about that?”

It wasn’t a surprise to either of them that his answer was a loud, “YAY!” while Winston barked his approval, too.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Emma and Killian were married sixteen months later, the day before the second anniversary of when they first declared their love for each other. Fortunately, there was no snowstorm on their wedding day.

Henry proudly walked his mother down the aisle to meet Killian at the altar. The boy shook his soon-to-be stepfather’s hand, then nearly tackled him in a hug, before taking his place beside Liam.

The ceremony was beautiful and perfect, which in Killian’s mind, matched his bride. Everyone had a wonderful time at the reception afterwards, celebrating the couple with food and dancing. Liam’s best man speech caused Killian’s face to turn red with embarrassment, as everyone else’s turned red with laughter.

The traditional father/daughter dance was replaced with a mother/son dance instead. As the two most important people in his life moved in small circles in the middle of the floor to the song “How Long Will I Love You?”, Killian repeatedly swallowed past the lump in his throat and wiped away a stray tear or two.

While the newlyweds enjoyed a honeymoon in a tropical climate, Henry and Winston stayed with Belle and Liam. The boy and his dog slept in the spare bedroom that was in the process of being turned into a nursery for Henry’s future cousin, due to arrive in two months.

Emma and Killian purchased a larger house, two blocks from the Storybrooke harbor, six months after their wedding. While they were signing the final legal papers for the sale, they were beginning another legal process.

One morning in October, Henry came into the kitchen and gave Winston an extra helping of food in celebration of their pet’s ‘gotcha day’. Sitting down at the table, he was excited to find his favorite breakfast of French toast with bacon on his plate, and folded pieces of paper beside it.

After drowning his food in maple syrup and taking a huge bite, he picked up the papers and asked, “What are these?”

“Open them and see,” Emma said, her face glowing with excitement as she met Killian’s eyes across the table.

Henry did as he was told, scanning the page until he realized that the first one was a certificate of adoption. His eyes shot up to land on Killian. “Does this mean you’re officially my dad?”

“Aye, lad, I’m legally your father. I signed the final papers a couple of weeks ago. We’ve just been waiting for that other paper to arrive before we told you.”

Henry slid the second paper out from underneath the first, his eyes widening even more. “It says Henry Andrew Jones. Is that really my name now?”

“Yeah, kid,” Emma answered. “That’s your new birth certificate and it names Killian as your father. What do you think?”

In answer, he jumped out of his chair and ran around the table to fly into Killian’s waiting arms. “I think it’s the best day of my life!” he exclaimed. “I love you, Dad!”

“I love you, too, my boy,” Killian replied, a slight catch in his voice at hearing Henry call him that title for the very first time.

Henry turned to give Emma a hug, also. “It’s pretty cool that Winston and I both have the same ‘gotcha day’,” he said.

His parents laughed. “I didn’t think about that,” Emma admitted.

That Christmas, their friends and family received a card which included a picture of Henry, Emma, Killian and Winston in front of their decorated, live Christmas tree. It was signed:

Happy Holidays! With love from the Jones family.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Thank you so very much for reading!

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[ninadove]

Nina reads Dracula 🦇

October 28th

I suppose that nature works on such a hopeful basis that we believe against ourselves that things will be as they ought to be, not as we should know that they will be. Transcendentalism is a beacon to the angels, even if it be a will-o'-the-wisp to man.

What a poetic way to say we’re all fucked

"When does the next train start for Galatz?" said Van Helsing to us generally.

"At 6:30 to-morrow morning!" We all started, for the answer came from Mrs. Harker.

"How on earth do you know?" said Art.

"You forget—or perhaps you do not know, though Jonathan does and so does Dr. Van Helsing—that I am the train fiend. At home in Exeter I always used to make up the time-tables, so as to be helpful to my husband. I found it so useful sometimes, that I always make a study of the time-tables now. I knew that if anything were to take us to Castle Dracula we should go by Galatz, or at any rate through Bucharest, so I learned the times very carefully. Unhappily there are not many to learn, as the only train to-morrow leaves as I say."

HELL YEAH MY BELOVED YOU CERTAINLY ARE THE TRAIN FIEND 🚂

[Dracula] is sure with his so great knowledge that she will come at his call; but he cut her off—take her, as he can do, out of his own power, that so she come not to him.

Good. You should be very afraid.

A half-thought has been buzzing often in my brain, but I fear to let him loose his wings. Here now, with more knowledge, I go back to where that half-thought come from and I find that he be no half-thought at all; that be a whole thought, though so young that he is not yet strong to use his little wings. Nay, like the "Ugly Duck" of my friend Hans Andersen, he be no duck-thought at all, but a big swan-thought that sail nobly on big wings, when the time come for him to try them.

This man is the funniest person on Earth. No notes

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[memphisnovels]

Evermore

Chapter 14. Saw you in a dream

Previous chapter

Masterlist

Hi friends, apologies for the inconsistent uploads, things will get back on schedule after the next few weeks and it will be business as usual :))

pairing: Pietro Maximoff x OFC

warnings: big sisters Anna and Natasha, PTSD and trauma, Nadia totally isn't in denial, mentions of injuries.

I picked up my pace, pushing my body to move faster across the field. The sun bathed my flesh as I ran. Sweat beaded across my forehead but I ignored it, completing another lap around the compound. I’d decided to workout outside today, a decision which had nothing to do with the silver-haired Sokovian I’d spied venturing to the gym early this morning. I’d been training for the past few hours, cardio workout and then running laps. When my body was moving, I could avoid the things I didn’t want to deal with.

It wasn’t just the moment Pietro and I shared, Obolensky’s words had not left me. I’d laid awake in bed many nights since Moscow racking my brain, trying to understand. He wanted to live in our minds, to destroy us mentally, there was a real possibility that his questions about the ballet were nothing more than tactics to torture me. Yet, even with this in mind, the words would not leave me. There was this feeling deep within, something niggling and unyielding, something that called to me, begged me to look deeper.

“Are we gonna spend the whole day out here?” Natasha asked, shielding her eyes from the sun as she sat dropped down onto the grass.

I sighed exasperatedly, barely sparing her a glance. “It’s a beautiful day, the sun will be good for us.” I began a set of pushups.

“Oh right, so you’re definitely not just avoiding Pietro?”

“I am not avoiding him! I am… Jesus, can we not do this right now?”

She giggled, shaking her head at me. “Fine, we won’t but you owe me after this.”

I sat on the grass beside her, sipping from my water bottle. “What do you want?”

“Let’s go into the city, I need a break from Avengers business for a little while.” Laying out on the warm grass I stretched my limbs, laying my arm over my eyes to block the sun. “And by that, I mean I already booked us a hotel for Saturday night, a whole two-day away from the compound. That means we won’t have to get heat stroke just to avoid your boyfriend.”

The glare I sent her was vicious, it brought a grin to her face. I didn’t move from my position on the ground.

Natasha scoffed at me, moving to her feet and nodding toward the compound. “Are you coming or not?” She extended her hand out to me. The sound of a familiar Sokovian accent filled my ears. I accepted her hand swiftly, lurching to my feet.

“I want to talk to you about something,” I murmured as we reentered the compound. She glanced over at me, eyebrows slightly raised. “It’s about what we spoke about last week, what Obolensky said, the ballet thing.”

She nodded. “You think he was telling the truth?”

I shrugged. “He wanted to torture me but telling me the truth could be the best way to do that.” The look on Nat’s face was one I knew well, she did not need to say anything, there was an unspoken understanding between us. “It could be a lie to mix my head up, but if it’s not...”

“Okay.” She offered me a gentle smile then. “Let’s look into it. We’ll do it together.” She added, taking my hand slowly.

…

It was strange and almost beautiful the way the tree-dappled landscape transformed into skyscrapers, cars, and light pollution. I missed the city, it’s far too easy to breathe upstate, I longed for the smog. We had spoken to Tony before we left for the city. He said he had a plan, he said he’d work on it while Natasha and I were away, and we’d start operation: Swan Lake when we returned. I did not agree to that name.

The first item on the agenda was lunch, we’d stopped at a little, family-run restaurant that we’d frequented before relocating to the compound. The cheerful voice of Maria, one of the owners called our names as soon as we entered through the front doors. She was an elder woman whose face was lined with life experience, and I liked her quite a lot. Even when she insisted on hugging and kissing me each time, she greeted us. “I cannot believe you have finally come back! My, I think I’ll die and never see my favorite girls again.” She had a thick Italian accent that was immensely comforting to me. A basket of hot bread was placed in the center of our table the very moment we sat. “Oh my, Nadia, you are just devastating! You get more beautiful each time I see you.”

I shook my head at the woman who doted on me. “Oh, you are just trying to butter me up, so I order extra bread.” She laughed, kissing Natasha on the cheek before heading back toward the kitchen.

Everything seemed to move slower here, it was hard to explain, as though the moment you step through the doors into the candlelit restaurant you are transported into a sleepy town in Italy. The velvety music that played over the speakers easily covered the hustle and bustle of the city outside, the smell of basil and tomato lulling you into a serene kind of peacefulness that rids you of any negative thoughts.

We were halfway through lunch when Natasha finally asked me the question, I knew she’d been dying to. “So, I know that you know who is out of bounds for conversation but what about your love life in general?”

“What about it?”

“Well, how is it?”

I narrowed my eyes at her then. “How is yours, Natasha?”

“That’s mean.” I thawed slightly at the look in her eyes.

“Sorry.” A beat of silence passed between us. “How are you doing since… Banner went off the grid?”

She looked down at her plate, rubbing at the back of her neck. “Life goes on. Just getting through it I guess.”

I raised an eyebrow at her. “Is it easier for you to deal with it if you pretend it’s not happening?”

“As if you of all people are giving me crap about avoiding my problems.”

A smile tugged at the corners of my lips. “I see your point.”

“No way, Nadia Pimenova acknowledging defeat?” I rolled my eyes playfully at her words. There was silence for a moment as she fiddled with her cutlery. “It’s like he just… disappeared, dropped off the face of the earth. I know that he needs time to deal with his stuff, I completely get that, but it’s really hard to just stay put knowing that he’s out there somewhere all alone.”

She pushed a lettuce leaf around her plate, resting her head on her hand. I reached across the table, placing my hand adjacent to hers. “He’s going to be fine, Nat, he’ll come back.” She offered me a sheepish smile, unconvincing at best. “And if he doesn’t, we will go find him together.” Her expression shifted then, the look in her eyes was one that I understood, even if it wasn’t one, I could define.

She would stick by my side whilst I navigated the terrifying road that was my past and I would stick by hers whilst she navigated the equally terrifying prospect of the future. The truth was she’d never needed to thank me for keeping her secret when she defected from the Red Room, for me, there had been no other conceivable option but to lie for her. I would never have sold her out, even when she was gone, I would stick by her. She was the first person who’d ever made me feel like I was not alone in the world. I did not blame her for what she did because I understood it. Matron Katerina and all of the other officials would never have been able to get New York out of me, because it was the one thing they could not take, the one thing that was ours to keep.

I took in a deep breath when we were on the street once more. “What are you doing?” Natasha asked.

“This city smells like shit… I missed it so much.”

She laughed wholeheartedly at my sentiment, pulling me along to walk beside her. We ate bagels and drank copious amounts of coffee and walked for hours. I loved every second.

“I feel like I’m going to explode if I even breathe too much,” I whined into my phone.

Anna’s breathy laugh carried over the line. “Nonna Maria’s and bagels will do that to you.”

“When are you coming back to New York?”

“When are you going to come visit me?”

I sighed exasperatedly. “You know how I feel about London,” I responded teasingly. A bark sounded in the background. “Georgie…” I said wistfully causing Anna to laugh at me yet again.

“So, what else is happening in your life outside of the wonderful reunion with Obolensky?”

Nat offered me a cheeky look as she walked past my spot on the hotel couch. I narrowed my eyes at her. “Don’t you dare.” I spoke quietly to her.

I realized my mistake the moment Anna asked me what I was talking about.

“Nothing, Natasha is just being inappropriate.”

“What’s happened that you aren’t telling me?” Natasha’s loud laughter filled the room. I threw a cushion at her head, though she dodged it easily. “Nadia I swear if you don’t tell me now I’m going to come down there and force it out of you.”

I maintained that Natasha was losing her mind.

“You are a filthy little liar, Nads. Tell me!”

“Pietro kissed her,” Natasha said, hiding behind a cupboard, narrowly dodging another cushion to the head.

“идиот,” I shouted at her.

Idiot.

Anna gasped before laughter once again filled the line. “I cannot believe you weren’t going to tell me about that!”

“It was nothing! He is stupid and he should not have done it.”

“But you did kiss him back,” Nat added.

The glare I sent her was nothing short of lethal. “Oh, I so called this!” Anna piped up. “Didn’t I tell you that he was completely obsessed with you?”

“Jesus, it was a mistake, okay?! He should not have kissed me, and I had a momentary lapse in sanity and facilitated it. Why can we not just move on and pretend like it never happened?”

There was silence in the room for a moment. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding him? You’re hoping he’ll what? Forget that you two made out on the balcony?”

“There was no making out! It was one kiss and I’m avoiding him so that he’ll get the message that I am no longer facilitating anything of the sort.”

“That’s a very sound plan.” Sarcasm dripped from each syllable Anna spoke.

Nat whirled on me then, eyes wide with delight. “So, you admit you’re avoiding him!”

I shook my head, opening and closing my mouth like a fish out of water. “This conversation is over! I have no interest in Pietro and he has no interest in me it was a heat of the moment decision that should have never happened and will never ever happen again!”

“Are you sure about that?”

I threw the final pillow from the couch at Nat.

“You’ve got a lot of anger in that little body! You know I can think of a really good outlet for that. He’s about 5’11 and brimming with boyish charm, something tells me he’d be more than happy for you to take it out on him.”

A chorus of laughter came from Natasha and Anna then.

“I am getting very sick of the sound of your voices. You are both delusional!” With that I abandoned my phone and the cackling redhead to collect myself in the bathroom. They were wrong, there was nothing between us, I was just overwhelmed it was the heat of the moment. I forced myself to stop thinking about the way his lips had felt, the way his breath had ghosted over my cheek, the look in his eyes. The sound of running water filled the room at I flicked the tap on, splashing the cold liquid onto my face.

Pietro had attempted to speak to me a minimum of 3 times a day since the night on the balcony. I’d done well in avoiding him so far. During training I’d tell him we could talk later and then I would simply find reasons not to be alone with him after. When I wasn’t avoiding him, I did my best to act completely unbothered by his presence, I was not as cold as I had been in the beginning, but I put forth an indifference toward him. I knew I couldn’t keep this up forever and though I told myself that I was just buying time to figure out what to say, I knew it wasn’t true. There was nothing much for me to say to him when I hadn’t the faintest idea what had prompted me to behave that way with him. It was baffling and the only explanation I’d managed to come up with was that I’d briefly been possessed by some demonic spirit who wanted to wreak havoc on my life. I suppose, truthfully, I was just hoping he’d forget about it before I actually had to face my moment of catastrophically poor judgement.

“Nads…”

“What,” I muttered into the darkness of the room.

A slight snort sounded. “Okay, grumpy.” There was silence for a long moment, the air shifted slightly, prompting me to bite back my next retort. “Do you ever feel like… I don’t know like a nonentity?”

“It is 1 a.m., Natasha.”

“I know, sorry. I’ve just been thinking a lot about the Red Room lately, I guess. It’s strange.” Her deep exhale was almost shaky. “When you first got out, I mean, did you feel like it was hard to rejoin normal life?”

Her question had me thinking back to that time, examining it for the first time in a long time. “There was no normal life for me… for a long time it didn’t really feel like there was even a me, not one that existed without the Red Room.”

“Right! I just feel like the second you’re out you're expected to assimilate, to be just like everyone else but I didn’t know how to do that. I’m not sure if I even do now, or if I’ve just become really good at faking it.”

“It’s been almost 10 years since I got out and there are times… so many times, when I look at other people and I’m not sure I’m ever going to be like that.” A heavy swallow allowed me to continue. “I don’t know who I was before it, it’s not easy to function like a normal human when the formative years you recall were spent learning ways to die most people couldn’t dream of.” 

Natasha was silenced momentarily by this. “I’m sorry if I’ve pushed you with the whole Pietro thing. I know it’s hard… believe me, I know.” I glanced toward her, unable to make out her face in the darkness. “What was done to us was monstrous. What was done to you… I only want you to be happy, I hate that you can’t let yourself be because of it.”

“I’m fine, Nat. Really.” I closed my eyes tightly for a moment, taking a deep breath. “I always am.”

“Because you’re a survivor.”

I rolled over, looking toward her bed. “I learned from the best.”

“It’s your choice, obviously, and you know I’ll have your back no matter what you decide, but I really don’t understand why you want to know whether what Obolensky said is true or not. I spend most of my time actively trying to forget the things that went on.”

It was complex. “What they did was monstrous… they took everything from us… maybe it will not be a pleasant memory, maybe there is nothing to remember, but I want to remember, I need to, Nat. This cannot be just another part of me that I do not get to hold on to.”

The room was lit only by the dim glow of streetlights I could hear the faint sound of traffic below us, petering out slightly at this time of night.

In that moment, everything felt just alright. Somehow, it was perfect.

…

My palms were sweating profusely as I sat in the chair, glancing at Natasha over my shoulder. “Still doing okay?” She asked. I nodded at her, closing my eyes for a moment as the headphones were places over my ears. The screen opened, a girl in covered in white tulle slipped onto the stage, moving stiffly to the classical music that echoed through my headphone. She was beautiful, graceful in a way that made it hard to look away, yet as I watched her, I felt nothing. No memories were sparked, there was nothing. It was the same time after time, for hours I sat and I watched, ballerina after ballerina danced across the stage and yet nothing changed for me. Hours passed me by while I sat there staring blankly at the screen as nothing occurred within my mind. Natasha stayed with me the whole time. At some point she placed a glass of water before me, yet I just continued to watch, never taking my eyes from the screen.

I was furious, how could I let him get to me like this, after all these years. Obolensky was just trying to torment me, and I’d let him. Rage simmered through my veins. I closed my eyes tightly, willing it to settle. Natasha had gone to find dinner some time ago now. I attempted to practice the techniques they used to tell us about in group, focus on one thing, breath into your belly. It didn’t work, I launched the now empty water glass at the wall, pacing back and forth. It was only when I felt the sharp slice of glass across my foot that I stopped. Glancing down, I saw blood smeared across the shards, crimson dripping coating my flesh. I took my seat once more, beginning to pick the smaller fragments from the ball of my foot. Bloody footprints followed me across the shiny floors as I wandered toward the med bay in search of a bandage. When I spotted a roll, I grabbed it and took it back to the room I’d been in, beginning to wrap my foot as one of the ballets came to an end.

I rested my head in my hands, closing my eyes again. That’s how I was positioned when the music began, it was beautiful, but it wasn’t the first time I’d heard it. I felt the sound travel across my shoulders, up my neck, and then back down again, along my spine inducing a shiver.

 ‘Corps de ballet of the State Academic Bolshoi Theatre presents Giselle.’

Those were the words I saw written across the screen when my eyes opened.

There were flashes of red and blue, white and tulle, over and over.

My back was pressed flush to cold metal. I could not move my head or my arms, my legs might have been numb, or maybe they were no longer there. I wasn’t sure. The music had filled my ears for so long that it seemed to have become a part of me, I could not remember where it ended and I began, had it played all my life; perhaps.

There was a ringing sound in my ears.

Giselle was on the stage then. The man she loved was engaged to another, he had lied to her and now she was dead. Then she wasn’t, she came back an apparition, cursed to dance with wanderers until the exhaustion took them to the grave. I thought the girl looked young and she was so sad.

When I blinked, I was back in the compound, my hands were in fists, fingernails digging into the flesh of my palms. My heart was thrumming against my sternum and every muscle in my body was strung tightly. I swallowed heavily, blinking and once again I was transported. Gasping breaths, and cries, that was what filled my ears then, but it was only for a second before it was gone. With a blink there was a man before me tightening binds over my body, placing something over my eyes, another blink and it was gone.

“Nadia?”

I yanked against my binds. The room was white, I think but really, I couldn’t remember. The straps were chaffing against my wrists from how much I’d pulled at them.

“Nadia.”

Again, and again my name was called but I couldn’t tell from where it originated. I gritted my teeth, squaring my shoulders and shutting my eyes, attempting to ground myself; to return to my body. The music was still playing, though it was almost as if I were listening to it underwater. A group of dancers entered the darkened stage, each wearing long white dresses. The man was back, he bent down and peered at me through large, black-framed glasses. I did not recognize him, nor did I recognize this place, this was not the Red Room. I’d never been here before, yet here I was now. The man was speaking, I could hear his voice, but I did not know what he was saying. It was all garbled and muddled. I couldn’t move any part of my body, strapped so tightly to the metal beneath me. I thought there might be tears in my eyes then.

My name was called again. I strained, attempting to find the voice, to come back. The bespectacled man leaned in again, reaching out toward me, a shining needle in his hand. I flinched away from it, but he took ahold of my face. The gentle touch confused me, but when I opened my eyes again, I understood. I was back in the compound, chest rising and falling rapidly, my arms were pressed to the chair, but I was not bound. My eyes danced across the man before me, dark hair and matching eyes.

“Just breathe.”

I was gone again then, but not to the table where I had been bound. I was on the street. There were buildings and some trees planted around the sidewalk. Brick apartment complexes and fire escape lined walls. New York? The breeze tousled my hair slightly, but it barely moved, when I looked down, I saw… plaits, hanging from either side of my head. The sun kissed my cheeks, peeking through the leaves of trees, seeking me out. A voice called down the street, but I did not understand what the person had said. When I looked up, I only saw his back. A young boy walked ahead of me, he wore a dark red backpack with a little key ring hanging from the zip, I couldn’t make it out. I began forward, attempting to catch up with the boy, I reached out toward him when I was less than a pace away, my hand almost making contact with his bag when a voice cut echoed through my mind.

“Nadia, are you still with me?” Tony asked, I could feel the warmth of his hands over my wrists, willing me to come back.

I did. My head was spinning, and I felt unwell. I blinked a few times, but I stayed put, my mind seemingly tethering itself back to my body. Looking around the room I found it the same as it had been before, glass still shattered on the floor. I met Tony’s eyes. Just past him stood Natasha in the doorway with an exceptionally concerned expression.

“He wasn’t lying.” When I spoke, my voice did not sound like me, shaky and wrecked.

For the first time in days, I was in a rush to go train. Natasha and Tony followed behind me with concerned expressions, saying that they wanted to debrief first, they wanted to know what I’d seen. I didn’t really know how to tell them when truthfully, I did not really understand what I’d seen. A jumble of moments that seem completely disjointed and entirely unfamiliar to me. I wanted out of the stuffy room, I needed to move my body, to hit something; to feel something other than the trembling, cold that burrowed into my bones when I thought about the man in the glasses.

After an icy shower, I was straight into the gym, gesturing for Pietro to follow. “We’re sparring,” I said before he had a chance to speak, my tone leaving no room for argument.

I dodged the jab he threw at me, slipping beneath his arm to move behind him, giving him a few slight pointers as we sparred but offering nothing beyond that. There were no taunting remarks from me or mildly flirtatious commentaries from him, it was making my skin crawl, this strange dynamic that we’d fallen into. Particularly now when all I wanted was to focus on something other than the jarring images I’d just endured.

I stretched my arms above my head, cracking my neck before we moved to the punching bag. With a gesture, I told him to begin. His jaw was tense as he began, his stance was perfect as were each of his punches. I wandered around the bag, my eyes trailing over his form. Then he changed his pattern, sending a kick to the bag… with his foot. He sent a glance my way then, eyebrows raised slightly. “Shin, remember how I showed you,” I muttered, attempting to keep my voice nonchalant.

“That’s it!” He exclaimed suddenly, throwing his hands in the air. “I can take no more of this.” I watched him with furrowed eyebrows, not entirely surprised by his outburst and, frankly, feeling slightly relieved at the forced shift in my focus. “How can I make it better? Just tell me what to do to fix things, Nadia.”

I asked him what he meant.

“I preferred it when you acted like you hated me because at least I understood what you were feeling.” He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the roots. “What did I do wrong here?”

A heavy, sickly feeling pooled in my stomach. The same one that had filled me on the balcony when the hurt had flashed across his expression. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” A little truth, I supposed I owed him that much. “You did nothing wrong, Pietro.”

“We cannot continue like this. I won’t.”  He said, crossing his arms over his chest, he took a step toward me.

“Let’s just forget it ever happened.”

His eyes met mine then, an unreadable expression on his face. “That’s what you want?”

I nodded, once, firm. “I will be your friend, and we will forget about all the other stuff.”

“Friends?”

I nodded again. He mirrored my action, wringing his hands together slightly. “Oh, and don’t ever kick with your fucking foot again.”

[woso-dreamzzz]

Firsts II

Pernille Harder x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Your first words

"Aren't you all giggly and happy today?" Pernille coos as she comes to wake you up that morning.

You're sitting upright, blabbing at your swan and moose from where they're both lying on the floor. You can see them through the bars of your crib but you get distracted once Pernille walks in.

"Oh, come here."

She lifts you up and into her arms, where you go limp and start pulling at her shirt.

You aimlessly feel the fabric before you're deposited on the ground to play while Pernille makes breakfast. You're most calm in the mornings when you're still slightly sleepy.

You just sit amongst the pillows in the corner and poke and prod at the little toys scattered around you.

"Mmm," You hum as you roll up onto your knees and start crawling.

You've gotten very good at it, fast too, so you make your grand escape from solitary to set yourself underfoot of Pernille.

She looks down at you as you use her leg to stabilise yourself to stand. You seem content to just stand there, staring up at her as she makes breakfast while shovelling spoonful after spoonful of yoghurt into your mouth.

You smack your lips together a few times and hum," Mmm."

"Mmm," Pernille says back, nodding as she cleans off your face and gets you ready for the day.

It's with practiced ease that she brushes your hair and gets you dressed in your usual Harder jersey and some trousers. It's a bit harder to get your socks and shoes on because you have a habit of pulling them off when she's not watching.

But Pernille's used to the routine and so are you because you're in the car and at the training grounds before you could even blink.

"Morning," Alex says as she automatically takes you from Pernille.

"She's my baby, you know," Pernille says," You can't keep stealing her."

"She likes being stolen," Alex replies, swaying back and forth as you look around and suck on your fingers," I'm just making sure you're raising a Wolfsburg fan. I can't have you and Magda corrupting her or anything."

Pernille rolls her eyes. "Well, if you're stealing my child at least give her a ball or something to keep her occupied or she'll disappear before you notice."

"This little angel? No way, she loves staying with me."

"Mmm," You grunt, kicking out your legs until one of your shoes falls off.

Pernille sighs. "And if you put her down, make sure she's wearing her shoes."

Pernille doesn't see you a lot throughout the day. You're passed between player to player as they all train and coexist around each other.

You're returned to her for lunch by Ewa and then picked up by her for afternoon training.

"You not feeling sleepy, princesse?" Pernille asks when she checks the rear-view mirror to see you wide awake. Car rides almost always put you to the sleep, even if it was only a short trip back home from training.

"Mmm," You say, smacking your lips together when you notice you're being addressed.

"Mmm," Pernille repeats back to you, pulling up at the apartment, "That's nice."

"Mmm," You say again and Pernille smiles.

"Really? That's so interesting."

"Mmm...Mmm...Momma."

"Wow. That's pretty cool."

Pernille freeze suddenly when it finally registers what you've said. She whips her head around to look at you in the backseat.

You're still staring at her, unblinking.

"What?" A smile splits her face open. "Say that again, princesse. Momma."

"Mmm."

"That's it." Pernille moves into the backseat with you, taking your little hand in her own. "Come on. Mmm is for?"

"Mmm."

"Mmm for?"

"Mmm...Momma."

"That's right. Mmm for Momma."

Pernille unclips you and brings you in to rest against her chest. She's not entirely sure what else she can say. You've been making little noises like that for weeks now but this is the first time it's intelligible.

You know who she is, outside of her role as your caregiver.

She's Momma and you know that.

You don't seem to understand the momentous milestone you've just hit but Pernille does and she just sits in the car with you, holding you tight against her as she tries to reconcile this version of you with the absolutely tiny baby she brought home.

You couldn't even hold your head up, let alone make words like you're doing now.

"M for Momma," Pernille says as she smiles down at you," That's right. That's me."

[demigodsanswer]

Twice Upon A Pointe: 12/13 Coda

Coda: the concluding section of a ballet, especially the final part of a pas de deux.

Percy heard footsteps behind him, and he tried to wipe his eyes as quickly as he could. 

“Hey,” he said, trying to play it casual. 

“I thought I’d come see if you were okay,” Frank said. He sat next to Percy. “Hazel is holding back the small army of people hoping to be the first one to offer you comfort,” he said. “I’m sorry. About Annabeth.” 

Percy just nodded, swallowing his sadness as best he could. “Yeah, it sucks,” was all he managed to say. 

Frank just held open his arms. “Want a hug?” He offered. 

Percy nodded, and Frank pulled him in tight. Percy's voice broke as he finally confessed, “I think I love her.” 

“I know,” Frank said. “It’s so hard. Last year, when I thought Hazel was going to stay in New York with Alvin Ailey … it almost killed me.” 

Percy pulled back, letting Frank out of the hug. “Would you have ever forgiven her if she had stayed?” 

Frank nodded. “If it’s what she wanted, I’d never have been able to stay mad at her. Annabeth won’t hate you either.” Percy just stared at the ground and shook his head. “And if it hurts this bad to leave her behind, maybe Miami isn’t the right spot.” 

“It is,” Percy said, “everything about here feels good, and I want that contract, it’s just … she’s something else. I’ll always have my family if I’m here, even if they’re far away. I was ready to move away from them at eighteen if I needed to. But Annabeth …” 

“I get it. Girls like her and Hazel are special,” Frank said. 

“Would you do it? Go to another company if it meant losing Hazel?” Percy asked. 

Frank shrugged. “They’d need to offer me everything I’d ever wanted.” 

Percy stared out towards the road, where Annabeth had left. “Lupa just did.” 

“Maybe not everything,” Frank suggested. “C’mon, let Hazel and me take you out for a drink. We’ll hide you from everyone hoping to offer you comfort. You can talk this through with us, or we can take your mind off it, whatever you need.” 

Percy accepted Frank's offer. 

~

When Frank went to the bar to get their third round, Percy turned to Hazel. 

“Do you ever regret staying in Miami?” He asked. 

She took a deep breath. “I wonder a lot what my life would be like if I stayed in New York. It will always be a huge what if. But I trained her. I worked my ass off to get here. I earned my promotion and Swan Lake.” 

“And Frank?” Percy asked. 

“He told me to stay with Alvin Ailey, if it made me happy,” she said. Hazel reached a hand across the sticky bar table, and Percy took it. “Annabeth thinks she’s doing something kind. And she is. I know how much that conversation hurts to have, trust me. But you cannot let her be part of this decision. It’s your career. If you make a choice just for her, you’ll only resent her if it turns out to not be what you wanted.” 

“But Jason and Reyna --” 

“Are best friends. They still talk. She’s not mad at him. She’s pissed as hell that Lupa isn’t hiring a taller dancer, but she’s not mad at Jason,” Hazel promised. “Just … make your decision, and then work it out with Annabeth, okay? She won’t stay mad at you forever.” 

~ 

The strong drinks at Calypso’s with Frank and Hazel hadn’t helped him make up his mind at all. Or, rather, his mind hadn’t changed from it has to be Miami. He just hadn’t figured out how to cope with losing Annabeth. 

He’d called his mom the next morning, trying to sound as excited as possible. She tried to match the tone, but it seemed like the idea of him moving to Miami did nothing but hurt two of the three most important women in his life. 

“Estelle will be happy for you,” his mom assured him, “she’ll get the bigger bedroom now.” They both forced a laugh. 

There were no more performances or classes to take at Miami, just one last free day to see the city. 

Rachel took him out to brunch, and Percy sipped on black coffee, nursing a headache and remembering why he didn’t like to drink too much. 

“She really just ended it?” Rachel asked. 

Percy nodded. “I get that long distance is hard, and we were barely together before I came here but …” 

“You would have been willing to try it?” Rachel finished for him. 

Percy picked at his eggs. “Yeah. For her? Absolutely.” 

Rachel flagged down the waiter and ordered them two mimosas. Percy only managed a few sips, before he slid it to Rachel for her to finish. 

“And you wouldn’t stay in New York?” Rachel asked. 

Percy shrugged. “That’s what I told her. I don’t know … maybe it would be different if New York’s offer was real, but it isn’t. It’s just something Annabeth thought would happen.”

“It’s your career, Percy. She shouldn’t be mad at you for making the necessary choices for it,” Rachel said. 

“I don’t think she’s mad at me. I think she wants me to be happy. It’s just that if I’m happy here then I can’t be happy with her,” Percy said. 

I’m deciding for you, she’d said, removing herself from Percy’s choice so that he could pick his career without her messing things up. She wouldn’t let him choose her over his career, even if it meant both of them leaving heartbroken. Annabeth was a self-fulfilling prophecy. I’ll ruin it, she’d warned him. And before they could ruin everything together, she’d run off and done it herself. He wanted to be angry at her, or find some cold, uncaring words to say about her, but all he could think about were her gray eyes, resolute and sure, even as she started to cry. 

“Maybe you give her too much credit,” Rachel suggested. “Maybe it is better this way.” 

Percy couldn’t agree. He just slouched back in his chair, one hand over his eyes to block out the light. 

By sunset he was ready to be alone. His friends in Miami had taken him out to dinner -- one last round of shots at Calypso’s. Reyna noticed the sick look on his face when the waitress set down the tray of silver tequila. She took his shot from him and dumped it into her margarita, before filling his shot glass back up with water. 

“Thanks,” Percy muttered. 

The group was going to stick around after dinner for more drinks and maybe a trip to a karaoke bar, but Percy decided to just go home. He had an early flight. He left them all with a big hug, and they toasted to their newest company member. 

He went back to his AirBNB, packed everything he’d brought with him, and did his best to get some sleep. 

He was leaving Miami with everything he’d ever wanted. And he’d never felt worse. 

~ 

His plane left early in the morning, and by noon he was in his apartment again. Stella was at school, his parents at work. He’d be alone until nearly four at least. He dropped his suitcase in his room, not bothering to unpack it, before flopping down on the couch, not even moving to turn on the TV. 

NYCB Spring season rehearsals started the next day. Two weeks of A Midsummer Night's Dream opened the season. Another full length ballet. He’d looked over his schedule on the plane. He had been slotted to learn Lysander, Demetrius, Puck, and Theseus. Percy knew he would likely only be cast in one, maybe two, of the roles. He’d only had corps and minor soloist roles in Midsummer before. He almost felt something like hope to see he’d been slotted to learn more principal roles. He’d have to remember to ask Paul about the plot and the four men he’d been slotted to learn. No way was he reading a Shakespeare play by tomorrow. 

And then he remembered it didn’t matter what roles he got. He was only with New York for one more season anyway. 

 He closed his eyes, trying to let his mind settle. He had a dull headache from the plane, two days of “goodbye for now” drinks, and the stress of not crying over a girl who’d never even officially been his girlfriend. 

The universe didn’t want him to have a moment of peace though. His phone buzzed. 

Chiron Brunner. 

Chiron hardly ever called from his personal number, or called at all. Here we go, Percy though. 

“Hello?” He said. 

“Percy, are you back in New York?” 

“Yeah, I just got home,” he said. 

“Great, do you think you could pop down to my office?” 

“When?” 

“As soon as you can.” 

~ 

Percy took two Advil and headed back down, catching the downtown 1 train to Lincoln Center right as the doors closed. 

The hallways were mostly empty, with most dancers enjoying their final day off. When Percy found Chiron’s office, the door was open. 

“There you are,” he said. “Come in, Percy.” 

Percy shut the door behind him. He suddenly felt seventeen again, just a student waiting to find out his future from the man who held it in his hands. But, Percy reminded himself, you know your future. 

He nervously glanced around the room. Chiron had fewer photos of himself up on the walls than Lupa did of herself; mostly he had pictures from the last fifteen years of dancers he’d directed in the company. Percy spotted one of Annabeth and Beckendorf, only nineteen and twenty-one, dancing the Romeo and Juliet Chiron had choreographed himself. Next to it was a new photo. It was him and Annabeth in that same Sleeping Beauty fish dive. 

“I never thought I’d make it onto the wall,” Percy said. 

Chiron smiled. “I’m not surprised. It’s a tribute to my greatest achievements,” he said. “Your Sleeping Beauty was certainly one of them.” 

Percy spotted a third photo of Annabeth. She looked so young; she was in the green Sugar Plum tutu, and Lee Fletcher was her cavalier. He wondered if it was from that very first performance she’d told him about. 

“Annabeth is in a lot of them,” Percy said. 

“Yes, of course,” Chiron said. Percy felt Chiron’s suspicious gaze on him. “Should she not be?” He asked. But to Percy it sounded like Has Lupa already gotten the better of you? 

“Of course she should be up there,” Percy clarified. He pointed to the picture of him and Annabeth in Sleeping Beauty. “You know, Lupa has a picture of the two of you in the same pose in her office?” 

Chiron smiled. “Believe it or not, we used to work very well together,” he said. “Mr. B paired us together himself.” It was always surreal to Percy to hear how casually Chiron talked about Balanchine. In Percy’s mind, the man was a legend, a god. But to Chiron it was just Mr. B, as familiar to him as Percy was with Chiron. 

Percy thought about asking what happened between him and Lupa, but Chiron gestured for him to sit down. Percy did. 

“When I decided to offer Jason Grace a contract, I called Lupa ahead of time, as a courtesy,” he started. Percy’s heart beat faster. “She did the same for me. I wasn’t surprised that she saw you were ready to be a principal. I’ve seen the same thing in you since Sleeping Beauty rehearsals started.” 

Percy’s mouth hung open slightly, but he couldn’t find any words, or even move his body. 

“Her offer made it easier for me to put pressure on the board to finalize your new contract. The pay should be competitive with anything Lupa is willing to offer you, but if it’s an issue, we may be able to negotiate something higher.” 

Chiron slid a manila folder across his desk to Percy. He opened it. The pages inside were fastened to the top, holding the contract in place. Percy’s dyslexia made some of the words swirl, but he managed to focus his eyes on the most important ones. Chiron had taken the liberty of highlighting them in yellow for him. New York City Ballet. Percy Jackson. Rank: Principal. 

“I hope you’ll consider both offers carefully,” Chiron said. And then, he spoke more warmly, less all-business. “You should know, this has been long in the works, since well before you went to Miami. I always believed you were capable of making it this far, Percy, it was just a matter of …” 

“Of what?” Percy asked. “This happened the last time, too. When I got into Miami as a teenager, my apprenticeship materialized. Why now? Why again?” 

Chiron nodded. “I understand this might be confusing. I apologize for the strange parallel circumstances. When you were seventeen, you had so much promise. But it was untested. You didn’t have as much training as everyone else, but that didn’t hold you back on a technical level. But it always held you back mentally. I wasn’t sure how reliable you could be, or if you’d have the mental strength to sustain yourself in a company. That extra year at SAB, and the experience you gained in auditions, it changed something in you. You had always been so willing to hide in the background, so unsure of your own talent. But once you were really tested, I started to see the dancer you would be. That apprenticeship contract was all but guaranteed halfway through your final year in the school. In less than a year, you had truly come into your own as a young dancer. 

“And then in the company, you were reliable. Stable. Strong. But you started to see yourself as an understudy, and nothing more. You started to slip into the corps, into the shadows. You were always talented, but I never knew if you were really ready to step up. You proved yourself reliable and adaptable in Opus. You had a star power to you that first night. You were no one’s understudy. You could take a role and make it your own, you could be adaptable, moving into roles on short notice, and dance them as if you’d rehearsed for weeks. You were the ideal soloist. 

“But a soloist isn’t a principal. You were adaptable and strong, but you didn't have that confidence. The Sleeping Beauty turned out to be the perfect test. When Beckendorf went out, it became clear early on that you were the perfect fit to replace him. But I was worried you’d only think of yourself as his replacement. If you did think that way, it didn’t show in your dancing. From that first rehearsal to the final bow, you were clean, confident, and everyone could tell Annabeth trusted you one hundred percent. After that first show, I started working on your principal contract. But, these things take time. And Lupa was there for those first few shows. To see Jason, I thought. But she and I have always had the same eye for dancers. She must have seen you and known you were ready. And she tried to steal you out from under us.” 

“The same eye for dancers,” Percy repeated. He doubted Lupa felt that way. “That’s what you said when you gave me my apprenticeship.” 

“Hmm,” Chiron hummed, “it remains true.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk. “I wouldn’t give you this contract if I didn’t think you were ready, or if I didn’t think you’d earned it. If I thought Miami was giving you the better offer, or if I thought that was the right place for you to dance, I would encourage you to go. But I’m not. You’re a talented dancer Percy, and you should stay in New York.” 

“You said that the last time too,” Percy said. 

“That’s still true too,” Chiron said. “If you do choose Miami, you will always be welcomed back here with open arms. There won’t be bad blood. But think on it carefully.” 

“Would you be offering me this if Luke Castellan hadn’t been fired?” Percy asked. 

Chiron raised a curious eyebrow at him; the public narrative had been that Luke retired. Percy’s verb choice told Chiron I know what he did to Annabeth. But Chiron didn’t dwell on it. 

“You are not Luke Castellan's replacement. Jason Grace was Luke’s replacement. They have a similar look, they’re the same height. Firing Luke freed up the money to offer Jason a contract. You are not the replacement for him.” He paused. “You are no one’s replacement. You, Percy Jackson, are completely singular. And if you’re going to be a successful principal, I need you to start thinking of yourself as such.” 

Percy looked down at the contract, and thought about what Chiron had said. He had spent almost a year working for Luke’s position. So many men in the company were fighting for it. But it had already been filled. So his contract … he ran his fingers over the brass fastener at the top of the pages, leaving smudged fingerprints behind. 

Miami had made space for him. They wanted him in the company. It had been so easy to imagine taking that offer when he thought New York never would. 

I don’t think it would make a difference, he remembered himself saying to Annabeth. Percy closed his eyes. Maybe it wouldn’t have made a difference if the contract had materialized only out of Chiron’s desire to spite Lupa. But it hadn’t. Annabeth had been right. They were going to make him a principal for his dancing in Sleeping Beauty. And Percy had been wrong. This contract did make a difference. It at least mattered in his decision making. He felt the world shift as his decision became much less easy to make.   

Percy summoned his confidence and said: “If I stay, I want to do Tarantella.” 

Chiron almost laughed. “That sounds like a fair request. I can make it happen. Lupa will probably demand some kind of compensation for stealing her program lineup, though. Ms. McLean has already demanded Slaughter be part of her contract.” 

Percy smiled when he realized what Chiron was implying. He and Piper were being promoted. 

“Annabeth is never wrong,” Percy said under his breath, but Chiron heard him.

“In all my years of knowing her, I’ve only ever known Annabeth to be wrong about one big thing. And even then … It wasn't her fault.” Chiron almost sounded guilty, like he knew he could have done more to protect her. The room got quiet, then, and Chiron’s gaze turned towards the photos on the wall. Chiron smiled. 

Percy followed Chiron’s gaze, and looked at the photo of him and Annabeth on his wall. They were two of Chiron’s greatest achievements. Percy couldn’t help but smile too.   

“When do I need to make a decision?” Percy asked. 

“Well, it depends on Miami’s timeline, but your contract with us expires at the end of Spring. So, by then, I suppose,” Chiron said. “Now, go get some rest. You’ve had a long month, and I don’t want you getting injured.” 

Percy nodded, took the folder, and headed out of the office. 

~

Percy stared at the folder in his hand, worried it might just disappear if he took his eyes off of it for one moment. Miami wanted him. They’d always seen something in him that Chiron has hesitated on. They wanted to make him a principal on only a few minutes of dancing alone. But New York … 

He thought of his future again -- him in Miami, running things down there, far away from Annabeth, their affection for each other long-since soured. 

But he didn’t want to run Miami City Ballet, he reminded himself. He didn’t want to run New York City Ballet for that matter. Maybe he would even enjoy dancing in Miami for the rest of his career. Jason seemed to be enjoying his change. Maybe Percy could enjoy his. 

But maybe it didn’t matter where he danced. What mattered to him more was where he lived his life. 

What he held in his hand was the thing he’d really worked so hard for. This contract, with this company, in his city. He wanted to make a change for everyone else here too. He couldn’t do that from Miami. Sure, he could teach Miami kids, but he didn’t know Miami. He couldn’t teach a new generation of New York kids who never would have danced otherwise, the way Miss Hestia had. He couldn’t take his sister to dance class and introduce dozens of girls to ballet superstars like Annabeth. He couldn’t have dinner with his family. He’d have to leave his friends behind. 

He thought about Hazel, and how thoroughly she’d asked about New York last year. And then he thought about how happy she looked at Calypso’s. Everyone, even Hazel herself, seemed to attribute her staying to Lupa bribing her with a principal contract and Swan Lake. But maybe there was more to it than that. Maybe she didn’t make the choice because of Frank alone, but he wasn’t the only person in Miami she loved.

Percy looked at the subway tracks in front of him. A rat the size of a small cat was dragging a hot dog in its mouth down into the dark tunnel. He hadn’t seen that in Miami. He looked at that enormous rat and realized Lupa could never actually offer him everything. 

The folder was still in his hand. He flipped it open and read those key words again. New York City Ballet. Percy Jackson. Rank: Principal. 

“Yeah, okay,” he said to the rat, before turning away and running up the stairs to the other side of the subway stop as the downtown 1 train pulled in. 

~ 

Percy slipped into Annabeth’s building as someone was leaving. He had her apartment number, but it took some running up and down the halls to actually find the door. Finally, though, he found 415, and then double checked he hadn’t read the number wrong. She’d texted him the new address when she signed the lease three weeks ago, when they still expected him to come back from Miami as if nothing had changed. 

Everything had changed since then, but maybe it had finally changed for the better. 

He knocked. 

When Annabeth opened the door, she looked annoyed to see him, like him arriving at her apartment was interrupting her being mad at him. Still, her hand went to her hair, tucking back and smoothing out some front pieces, and tucking loose strands into the clip that held most of it at the back of her head. She was still in her pajamas -- just sweats and hoodie with the name of her dance school in Virginia -- and her glasses. 

Yeah, he thought admiring her, a smile already blooming on his face, she’s completely singular.  

“You don’t get to decide for me,” he said. 

She stepped aside and let him in. Her apartment still had a few boxes left to unpack, and only seemed half decorated. Her coffee table was covered in pointe shoes that she was in the middle of sewing; her TV was on, the volume low. When he turned to her, her arms were crossed, and she stood a good distance away from him, her face stern and solemn. 

“What’s left to decide, Percy? You’ve made your choice clear, and I’ve made mine,” she said. 

“Annabeth …” Percy said, taking a step closer. She stepped back. Percy held out the folder. If I go here, he tried to ask, will you follow? 

She reached forward, grabbing it out of his hand. “What is this?” 

“Look at it.” 

She flipped it open. Percy’s heart pounded as her eyes scanned over the words, before she finally lifted her head. She looked completely unsurprised.  

“Chiron finally offered it to you,” she said. Her face was unreadable, only the rapid rise and fall of her chest under her shirt gave Percy any kind of hope that it wasn’t too late.   

“Apparently it was in the works before I left,” he said. He was trying and failing to match her neutrality. He couldn’t help but smile. Everything he ever wanted was in New York, right in front of him. 

“I thought it didn’t matter,” she reminded him.  

Percy shrugged. “I was wrong. Of course it matters,” he said. He stepped closer to her, and she didn’t back away. 

“But what about Miami actually wanting you, appreciating you?” She asked. 

“I was wrong about that too. They do want me, and dancing there was great. But you were right. Chiron wouldn’t keep me out of spite. City Ballet does want me in their company. They do appreciate me. Chiron made space for me. And everything I have ever wanted is in New York,” Percy said, taking another step towards her. “Why would I ever give that up?” 

“Even if it’s just the stuff Luke left behind?” Annabeth asked. 

“Luke Castellan is an abusive asshole who got dumped and fired in the same week. It’s not stuff he left, it’s what he lost.” He rested a hand on her face. “I’m so sorry I said that to you. You were never what I meant. I promise, I won’t lose you.” 

Annabeth’s facade finally broke. She let herself smile, the faintest little whisper of hope, as her eyes filled with tears. 

“You’re staying in New York?” She asked, her voice quiet, a few tears escaping to trace lines down her cheeks. 

His hand was still resting on her face, and he used his thumb to brush away a tear. 

“Yes,” he said. 

“You promise?” She asked. He held up his pinky, and she almost laughed as she twisted hers around his.

“Yes,” he said again, “so, Annabeth Chase, can I please, please finally take you out to dinner?” 

She dropped the contract on her coffee table, her tears halting, before she tangled both of her hands in his hair. “Oh you can do so much more than that,” she said, before pulling him down into a kiss. 

Whatever invisible boundaries had been set up between them crumbled. There were no worries about Luke or Miami; everything that had held them back had gotten so, so small it was inconsequential. Percy pressed his hands into her back, the way he did in a pas de deux right before a lift. She took the familiar cue and jumped. He caught her, holding onto her thighs as she wrapped her legs around his hips. 

They moved together in perfect time, matching each other as though they were a single person. They didn’t need choreography or rehearsals for this dance; they already knew it. 

~ 

They’d dozed off. Percy had curled himself around Annabeth, not caring that he was mostly breathing through her hair. It smelled faintly of lemons and hairspray. The last time he’d been in her bed, he’d tried to stay far away from her, not rolling over or invading her space in the middle of the night. Now, he didn’t want to leave any space between them. One hand was pinned between his chest and her back, while the other reached over her, resting on the soft skin over her rib cage. Her breathing was soft, and her face peaceful and relaxed. He might never get off of her, he thought. She looked so beautiful. Something told him that if he’d seen this particular vision of her before he’d left for Miami, he wouldn’t have considered their offer for a single moment. 

His phone started to buzz somewhere, pulling him from his half-asleep cuddle. He carefully untangled himself from Annabeth, hoping he didn’t disrupt her sleep, as he slipped out of the bed. He found his phone in his pants pocket over by the bedroom door. He grabbed it, trying to pull on his underwear as he read the caller ID. 

Percy stepped out of Annabeth’s room, shutting the door quietly as he answered. “Hey Mom,” he said, trying to keep his voice casual. 

“Did you make it home?” She asked. “Did your flight get delayed?” 

He looked at the clock on Annabeth’s microwave. 5:00 pm. They’d been expecting him home. 

“Yeah, I’m back in the city. Sorry, I should have texted. I went to see Annabeth,” he explained. 

“Oh …” her voice got very sympathetic, “Percy I’m so sorry. I know how much you care for her.” 

Percy just smiled as he looked at his City Ballet contract on Annabeth’s coffee table. “It’s okay, Mom. We’re okay,” he promised. Much better than okay, but Sally didn’t need to know. “I’ll be home for dinner. Seven, you said?” 

“Yeah, your sister got you the most ridiculous cake I’ve ever seen.” Percy laughed. “If Annabeth is up for it, she’s always welcome,” Sally added. 

“I’ll offer,” he said. 

“Love you sweetie, I’ll see you soon,” Sally said. 

“Love you too, Mom,” Percy said, hanging up the phone. 

He walked back into Annabeth’s bedroom. She was still laying down, her bare body snuggled under the blankets, but her eyes were open. 

“Have you told her yet?” Annabeth asked. 

Percy shook his head. “No, I came straight here once I got it,” Annabeth smiled and sat up, letting the blankets fall away. Percy kept his eyes on her face to keep himself from saying something dumb like awooga. “You’re invited to dinner, though, if you’d like to help me surprise them.” 

“I’d love to,” she said, slid out of bed and slipped on her glasses. “I’ll start getting ready.” 

Before she could go into the bathroom, Percy grabbed her hand, and pulled her into another long, tender kiss. When they parted, Annabeth just smiled a wicked smile, and pulled him into the shower with her. 

~ 

Annabeth had slipped the contract into a tote bag for him with a bottle of fancy wine to make it look less suspicious. 

When they got to Percy’s front door, Annabeth let go of his hand. He turned to look at her as he pulled out his key, and saw she was near tears. 

“Are you okay?” He asked. 

She smiled, the sad look on her face disappearing. “Oh yeah,” she said. “You’re surprising them with the news, so I figured I should act like you’re still moving to Miami.” 

Percy leaned in and kissed her. “Alright, just let me know the plan next time so you don’t scare me.” 

 Annabeth gave him a thumbs up as she slipped back into her melancholy mask. 

Percy opened the door and announced to the apartment that they were there. Stella ran at him first. She gave him a big, tight hug, but didn’t say anything except: “Mom invited Miss Hestia.” 

Percy squeezed her back, happy that for once his little sister was more excited about seeing him than seeing Annabeth. 

They walked together into the living room, where his parents and Miss Hestia were sitting, looking over some old pictures of him. 

“Hello,” Percy said. “Are we embarrassing me already?” He asked. 

The three of them jumped up, each taking their turn to give him a big congratulatory hug. It took everything to not whip out the New York contract, but he’d decided to do it during dinner while they were all sitting down. 

“I’m so proud of you,” Sally said, holding onto him tight. “I’m gonna miss you so much,” she said. Percy choked up a little, and he wouldn’t have been able to say don’t worry, I’m staying even if he planned to. 

“You must be Annabeth,” he heard Miss Hestia say. Percy pulled loose from his mom, and turned to the two women. 

“Yes, Percy’s told me so much about you,” Annabeth said, holding out her hand. “Are you still teaching?” She asked as they shook. 

“Oh yes,” Miss Hestia said. 

“Percy and I would love to come help one of these days,” Annabeth said, volunteering him, not that he minded. 

“Maybe this summer?” Percy suggested. 

“Before the big move?” Miss Hestia asked. 

Percy and Annabeth nodded, still keeping up their act. 

“Let me show you your cake!” Stella said, pulling Percy towards the kitchen. As he headed into the kitchen, he watched his mom pull Annabeth into a sad hug, offering her comfort about Percy’s move. 

“It’s all right, Sally, we’re figuring it out,” he heard her say. 

Maybe dinner was too long from now, he thought. 

Estelle lifted the white cardboard lid of the bakery box, and inside was a round cake with a printed image of Pit Bull and the text “I’m in Miami Ballet.” Percy laughed. 

“Now, how on earth did you come up with that?” He asked. 

“Well, I’m funnier and smarter than you,” she reminded him. 

“And a better dancer,” he added. 

Stella smiled, before pulling him to another hug. “I’m gonna miss you. You promise you’ll come back and visit, right?” 

Percy couldn’t take it anymore. “Of course,” he promised. He broke the hug and took the folder out of his tote bag. “But …” he handed it to her, “look at this.” 

Stella’s eyes scanned over the highlighted parts. She looked up at Percy then, her brown eyes wide and welling with tears. 

“You’re not moving to Miami?” She asked. 

Percy panicked a little. “I’m sorry, you can still have the bigger room --” 

She started to cry. “I’m not sad, I’m happy,” she said. Percy almost cried then, when she started crying in that loud, heartbreaking way little kids do, and he couldn’t do anything but pull her back into the tight hug. If there were any last doubts about his choice, this killed them completely. 

Sally ran over to them. “Stella, sweetie, what’s wrong?” She asked. 

“Percy doesn't need to move to Florida,” she said through her tears, still holding onto Percy. She managed to hold out the contract. “Look!” 

Sally opened it, and Miss Hestia looked over her shoulder. Percy saw Annabeth drop her facade and nudge Paul to go look too. 

“Does that say New York?” Sally asked Miss Hestia. 

“It does,” Miss Hestia said, her smile almost audible. 

Sally turned to Annabeth. Annabeth just smiled wide. “He’s staying in New York,” Annabeth confirmed. 

Everyone piled on top of him. Stella didn’t let go as their mom hugged him. Miss Hestia wrapped her arms around all three of them. He heard Annabeth say, “Should we get in there?” And Paul said, “I think so.” Soon there were two more bodies crushing him. 

~ 

“So, if you two are official now, can I finally embarrass you by showing her your baby pictures?” Sally asked as she cleared away cake plates (Pit Bull’s face had tasted delicious). Percy wasn’t sure they’d communicated with her that they were official, but there was no point in challenging her if she was right. 

“I’m pretty sure moms only do that in movies,” Percy said. 

“But I would love to see them,” Annabeth said. 

Sally was already on her feet, and Stella jumped up to help her. Sally plucked a few frames from the mantle as Estelle went to the living room to get the big photo album off the coffee table. 

“This one isn’t too embarrassing,” Sally said. “It’s Percy at one of his first competitions. He came in twelfth.” 

Sally held out the frame holding the photo of the top fifteen junior boys and top fifteen junior girls to Annabeth. 

Annabeth grabbed it quickly. “Oh my god!” She yelled. She pointed to Percy. “Is that you?” She asked. 

“Well, this seems like a bit of an overreaction,” Percy said, already embarrassed. 

“No it’s …” she looked up at him, and pointed at the photo. He hadn’t really looked at the photo in years, and if he did, he selfishly only glanced at his younger self. He followed her finger to Giselle in the middle, the little girl who’d won not just his competition, but the national-level one too. The little blonde girl with the hops on pointe that no one else could do at their age. And he realized just how familiar she looked. She’s going to be famous, Lester had predicted correctly. 

“Percy, that’s me,” Annabeth said. Of course it was. 

“Oh my god,” Sally said, leaning over Annabeth to take a closer look. “It really is!” 

But Annabeth was already leaning in to kiss him. See, Percy tried to say through the chaste, family-friendly kiss, we were always meant to be. 

~

They indulged in extra desserts and wine as they sat on the couch and let Stella scroll through different YouTube videos on the TV. Naturally, she kept picking ones with Annabeth in them. Most of New York's rep was under lock and key, but there were a few good recordings. Stella found several favorites, like Marzipan, Romeo and Juliet’s balcony scene, and the Black Swan coda. While they all admired her, Annabeth offered a steady commentary of “oh that was terrible”, “point that foot, Annabeth Chase”, and “turn out from the hips, dear.” Percy just pulled her in closer and kissed her red cheeks, no longer feeling quite so embarrassed about the half hour they’d spent looking at his childhood photos. 

“You look beautiful,” he promised her. 

When Miss Hestia finally stood up to leave, Sally told Stella they’d had enough ballet for the day, and it was time for her to get ready for bed too. 

Estelle gave Percy another big hug, before turning to Annabeth. As she hugged Annabeth good night, she added: “Woman to woman? You could do better.” 

Annabeth laughed, and Percy just scooped his sister up and carried her to her room. 

When he came back, Annabeth leaned in close to him, her mouth near his ear. “Do you want to come back with me?” She asked. “We can go to rehearsal together tomorrow.” 

Percy nodded. “Yeah, of course.” 

Percy stood up and tried to play things casually. “We’re going to head out soon too,” he told his mom. 

She smiled knowingly at the conspicuous we but decided Percy and Annabeth had both been embarrassed enough for one night. 

“Alright sweetheart. Let me pack you some leftovers.” As she did that, Percy packed his dance bag, adding some things for overnight. He didn’t want to presume too much, but he did pack two days worth of clothes, just in case one night turned into more than that. 

Annabeth was chatting with his parents when he walked back out, helping them stack plates and arrange tupperwares. 

“Ready to go?” She asked. Percy nodded. 

Percy hugged his mom tight as they got ready to leave. 

“I’m so proud of you, Percy,” she said. “Really. I have always been proud of you, and I will always be, but, this …” she touched the tote bag on his arm where the contract was stored away again. “You’ve worked so hard, and you deserve it so much.” 

For the second time in three days, he felt himself cry, just a little. His mom wiped away the tear, before pulling him in for another hug. 

“I love you, Mom. Thanks for … ” he didn’t quite know how to put into words everything she had done for him and sacrificed for him, from ballet classes to Gabe, so he just settled on a simple but insufficient, “.. everything.” 

“Of course, Percy. It’s what moms are for.” She gave him an extra squeeze before letting go. “Alright, I’ll let you go enjoy the rest of your night now,” she said, pulling away from him. 

When they parted, Percy turned to Paul. “I never really thanked you,” he said to his stepdad, “for everything. I wouldn’t have been able to go to SAB without you. You’re just a high school teacher, and you had a baby on the way. I mean, really, none of this would have been possible without you supporting me. And you didn’t need to do that. I’m not your son.” 

Paul rested a hand on Percy’s shoulder, and just said, “Of course you are,” before pulling him in for a hug.  

Behind him, he heard Annabeth sniffling. 

“Sweetheart, you can’t start crying too,” Sally said, pulling Annabeth in for a hug. 

It seemed like Sally could tell Annabeth had not had a sufficient number of mom hugs in her life, because she refused to pull away first. 

“Come out to Montauk with us this summer,” Paul said when Annabeth and Sally let go of each other. “I’ll teach you how to drive. I taught Percy, and you can’t possibly be worse than him.” 

Annabeth laughed. “That’d be great,” she said, opening her arms for a hug as well. Theirs was a shorter goodbye hug, but it made Annabeth smile all the same. 

“Alright, I think it’s time we let them get on with their night,” Sally said to her husband. 

Annabeth took Percy’s hand as he led her out of the apartment and back downtown. 

~ 

It was past eleven at night, and he knew he needed to get ready for bed. But all Percy could do was stare at the contract in his hands. He wasn’t thinking about anything except that it was real. He didn’t process the sink turning off or the bathroom door opening, until Annabeth was kneeling behind him on the bed in her bathrobe. She draped her arms over his shoulders, her chest to his back, and her face near his ear. 

“What are you thinking about?” She asked. 

“That I haven’t actually signed it yet,” he said. 

Annabeth leaned back a little. “It’s not going to disappear,” she said. “Or are you having second thoughts?” 

Percy turned his head towards her. “I’m not going to disappear either,” he promised with a quick kiss. “I was just thinking that I should do it now. I can give it to Chiron tomorrow.” 

Annabeth was smiling. “Have you read it all the way through?” She asked. 

“Well, no … but I was going to,” he said. He wasn’t stupid enough to sign something without reading most of it. 

“Don’t sign it yet,” she said. Percy raised an eyebrow. “Let me read it tomorrow. I’ll compare it to mine. You might be able to look at Beck’s too. Just to make sure you’re getting everything you should. Have you gotten Miami’s offer yet?” 

“Not the official contract,” he said. 

“Maybe even wait to see their offer. If they offer more money, Chiron might boost your pay,” Annabeth said. 

“Sneaky,” Percy teased. 

“Strategic,” Annabeth corrected. 

“I thought you’d want me to sign it as soon as possible,” Percy said, “and commit to New York.” He looked at her carefully when he said New York, and she understood what he was saying. 

“When you were going to pick Miami, what did you hope would happen with us?” She asked. 

Percy shrugged. “That we’d make it work somehow. I wasn’t thinking it was a choice between you and other women.” He was smart enough to know that mentioning Rachel’s name might send her into another spiral. 

She nodded. “I’m sorry I made it about that,” she said. “And that I wasn’t willing to try. I just didn’t want you to choose me over your career and what you deserve.” 

Percy brushed her hair back. “I accept your apology, and I forgive you. I’m a dancer. It’s something I do. I can dance anywhere. Everything else, my life, my family, my goals, they’re all in New York. And, Annabeth?” He kissed her gently. “There was never anyone else I wanted to be with. The whole time, you were all I could think about.” She smiled and leaned in. When they pulled away, Percy added. “You do owe Rachel Dare an apology though.” 

Annabeth carded her fingers through his hair. “I sent her an Instagram DM during the party. I’m sorry I was so mean to your friend.”

“You did warn me that you get jealous,” he said. 

“I’ll work on it,” she promised. 

“You’re really okay with me not signing it yet?” Percy asked. 

“I trust you,” she promised. “And I do think you can probably get a little more money out of Chiron.”

“More money might not be a bad idea. I’ve been thinking it’s time to move out of my mom’s place,” Percy said. “Kind of lame to bring a girl back to my mom’s apartment.” 

Annabeth shrugged. “I love your family, and … we can always come back here anyway.” She brushed some hair out of his face. “No need to rush out of there. Save your money for more important future things.” 

“What kinds of future things?” Percy asked. 

“Oh, you know,” she kissed him, “vacations, fancy dates, and other future stuff.” Her cheeks were pink, as she kissed him again. 

“Come on,” Percy said softly between kisses, “don’t be embarrassed. Tell me what you were thinking about.” 

“You’ll think I’m crazy,” she said. 

“Try me.” 

Instead of saying anything, she just opened her robe to reveal she hadn’t put her pajamas on yet. She pulled Percy further into the bed. His contract flopped to the ground, forgotten for the time being. 

“Annabeth,” Percy said. “Tell me.” 

Annabeth pouted a little when she realized her distraction hadn’t worked. 

“Future stuff,” she said, “you know, like moving in with someone, marriage, kids …” 

“Just someone?” he asked. She hummed. He kissed her again. “Do you want those things, Annabeth? Do you still want them?” She’d had or nearly had them before and walked away. Percy knew it was the future he wanted with someone, but she might not. 

“I do,” she said. “Not yet, but … Luke didn’t ruin everything, you know? But do you want them?” She asked. 

Percy leaned down to her, kissing her lips first, before moving to her neck, then her chest. 

“Yes,” he promised. He’d gotten everything he’d wanted so far -- his promotion at his company, in his city, and now he had her too. And there was still so much of his future he could dream about. 

No, not dream, he remembered. Goals. Goals he could work for. Goals he could -- would -- make happen. 

[bbtoni]

Florian wirtz x reader

Fluff / wedding theme

The soft lace of my dress hugs me in all the right places, its delicate patterns tracing a story of love and commitment that brought me here today. The sunlight streams through the window, casting a golden glow over the room, illuminating the white roses that fill the air with their gentle fragrance.

My eyes catch a glimpse of the veil, resting like a whisper on my shoulders, and I can’t help but smile. It’s the veil my mother wore, the one she kept so carefully all these years, waiting for this moment. I feel her love in every thread, in every bead that glistens with quiet elegance.

I am the keeper of promises, the bearer of dreams we’ve dared to dream together.

The door opens softly, and the familiar faces of my bridesmaids fill the room. They surround me, their smiles as wide as mine, their eyes misty with joy. They fuss over the final touches, adjusting my train, smoothing my hair, but all I can think about is him—standing at the altar, waiting for me.

As the music begins, I take a deep breath, feeling every note resonate within me. My father takes my arm, his grip steady and reassuring, and together, we step into the aisle. The doors open to reveal a sea of faces, all turned towards me, but my eyes find his instantly. The world fades away, and in that moment, it’s just us, suspended in time, on the brink of forever.

Each step brings me closer to him, to the life we’ve been building piece by piece, day by day. His smile is everything—warm, inviting, filled with the kind of love that makes you believe in all the beautiful things this world has to offer. When I reach him, the last traces of nervousness dissolve, replaced by a deep sense of belonging. This is where I’m meant to be, where we’re meant to be.

We exchange vows, the words that feel like they’ve been waiting in our hearts for this very moment.

'your smile so bright that wakes me ever morning, you're the light of my life that will wake me ever morning even in the winter. Your the one in my life, I see myself as swans, we found eachother here and in ever other univers two.'

His voice is soft as he only looks at me, the vow from mine just as his full of love and care.

There’s a promise in every syllable, a vow in every breath, and as we say, “I do,” it’s as if the universe itself leans in to witness the union of two souls who have found their perfect match.

As we walk back down the aisle, hand in hand, the world seems to bloom around us, full of possibility and endless love. This is our beginning, our forever, and I can’t wait to see where this journey will take us, side by side, always and forever.

[angelicsjn]

Can I get more facts about Roman? Like general ones and relationship ones?

ROMAN CORNELIUS JAMES BEAUREGARD.

— general.

Roman is known as three words: driven, determined and balanced.

He masks emotions well, doesn't let them get the best of him and he seems to be in full control of himself. Most of the time, he's seen as unemotional. As cool as a cucumber.

People are amazed by his self-control, especially on track. He owns it ferociously, yet he's still in full control and calm.

He's very steady handed, has fast reflexes, and a crazy amount of strength that isn't fully represented with his lean build. Due to his training, he maintains a specific build for the car, but his strength is insane.

He is a watcher, an observer. He observes people and acts based on that. If you're mad, he gives space. If you're happy, he feeds off that happiness. He takes instant dislikes to someone and usually knows they're not good before most others do.

He likes cars, wine, poetry, classical music, pasta, you, animals, and his secret love is the Twilight movies and books.. He has the soundtrack saved, and his favourite character is Charlie Swan.

He owns three cars, and only he can drive them. He's very protective of them. He also owns art pieces that are placed around his house, he loves art. He also plays the violin and piano, he's amazing at it.

Roman has made music for you, plays it for you whenever you want, and dedicates every piece to you. He even named one of his trophies after you.

He prefers savoury over sweet, if you like sweet foods, he gives it to you. It makes him feel sickly.

He's a good dancer. Steady and sweet.

Roman is a secret romantic, doesn't like to admit it. But he does love his people, and when he's in love, he's very romantic.

He's a family man. He adores his family and would literally do anything to make sure they are happy and safe. He has brothers who are also racers in F2 and F3.

He doesn't post much on social media unless it's about his job, family, you, or the odd brand deal.

— relationship.

As is said, he's actually very romantic.

But he's silent about it. He doesn't make a big scene.

Nice private meals, morning hikes where you hold hands and speak of future plans, late night promises that he won't forget and will keep.

He's a man of his word. He won't ever let you down.

Even though he's a busy man, you will always have his attention. He'd love it if you travelled with him to every country and supported him as he raced.

His favourite thing ever is winning a race and seeing you in the crowd, to then give you a big kiss, he even has a photograph taken of you both framed in the house.

He has a relaxing voice and will read you to sleep sometimes, especially after a bad day he will play with your hair or gently run his fingertips over your back as he reads and it's literally heavenly.

Even though he grew up rich, he's still great at fixing things. He will help you fix broken items, build furniture, and if you have a problem with your car, he will fix it for you.

If your car isn't the best, he will buy you a new one. A really expensive car that suits you and your taste. He's not selfish and wouldn't buy with his own eyes. He'd think of you and what you like.