#that loft does not suit him anymore and it’s not baby safe

[mattbegins]

Manifesting a scene where Buck is in a position of having to cancel or renew his lease in a matter of days but doesn’t like the loft anymore because it’s too expensive and bachelor pad-like for him so he mentions this to the 118 and while Ravi offers to help set him up with one of his units, Eddie says “why don’t you crash with me until you find somewhere to land?” and then cue couch theory buddie pipeline they both discover that the family and love they want is right in front of them etc etc, do you see the vision

[sariahsue]

A Cat of Their Own - Ch 2

Ch 1

The room was dark and quiet and empty when they went up, just as Tom had told her it was. Marinette had turned her lights off and had left the skylight propped open. Cool autumn air floated down through it. The other window was still latched shut.

"Our daughter is a superhero," Tom said. "I'm not sure if I want to swell with pride or cover her in bubble wrap."

There seemed to be nothing they could do at the moment. "What happens if it starts to rain?" Sabine asked. Whenever something went horribly wrong, and she started feeling out of control, she had a habit of fixing her attention on the least pressing problem she could. It was all she could do not to panic. Her baby was letting herself get attacked by monsters every other day. "Her bed will get soaked."

"We'll just have to make sure we close it for her," Tom said, taking her hand loosely. How was he so calm about this? "She should be back any moment. That fight wasn't far away."

Sabine led him over to Marinette's desk, which was still scattered with the fabric she'd been cutting that morning, and then positioned them underneath the loft bed. Tom raised an eyebrow at her, but Sabine shook her head and put a finger to her lips.

Less than thirty seconds later, there was a loud thud on the roof, and they both looked up reflexively. Footsteps followed, and then the creak of the bedsprings and the scrape of her skylight shutting and latching.

"Spots off!" said Marinette's voice. A flash of pink light illuminated the room briefly, making the dress form and chaise cast wide shadows. Sabine's grip on Tom's hand tightened.

"Wow!" said a new voice, high pitched and cheery. "That akuma sure was something else."

Who was that?

"Just be glad you couldn't smell it," Marinette said. "It was bad enough for me. I don't know how Cat could stand it with that nose of his. Phew!"

Marinette's feet appeared at the ladder, toes pointed toward them. Her knees came into view, then the hem of her shirt, and finally her face. Her hands froze on the ladder rungs, staring at her parents. Marinette went from a flushed smile to a mask of horrified realization, and Sabine saw her own feelings reflected back at her. There was no denying it anymore.

"Marinette?" came the unfamiliar voice. "What's wrong?"

Marinette snapped her head up toward the sound. "No, don't!"

A red blob whizzed through the air and stopped next to Marinette. "What?" it asked. It didn't have any wings, but it floated through the air just the same. Its large head facing Marinette.

"Uh, sweetie," Tom said. "What is that?"

The thing turned, abnormally large eyes rounding slightly and its antennae twitching in surprise at the sight of them.

It's like a ladybug, Sabine thought numbly, staring at the one black dot on its head. A talking ladybug.

"Oh. I was wondering if this was going to happen soon," it said.

"You could have warned me," Marinette mumbled.

"We need to talk," Sabine said mechanically, while Marinette dropped her head down onto the closest rung. "You aren't in trouble."

"Listen, I'm sorry," Marinette said. "I wanted to tell you, but I wasn't supposed to, and I didn't want you to worry, and-"

"First," Sabine said, putting her hands on her hips, "Who said you weren't supposed to? You shouldn't be keeping secrets like this from your parents."

"Uh." Marinette's eyes flicked quickly to the little creature, but she kept her head from turning toward it too.

Sabine's eyes narrowed.

"I'm Tikki," the thing said. "And I'm afraid that that's part of the burden of being Ladybug. No one is supposed to know."

"Pleased to meet you," Tom said, holding out a hand like he wanted to shake. Tikki floated over and sat on his thumb, all smiles.

"She's a minor," Sabine said. "Legally, she doesn't have the ability to make decisions and take on burdens like this without parental consent."

"I think everyone would agree that this is a special case," Tikki said.

"And I've handled the responsibility well so far, Mama," Marinette said, "Don't you think?" She finally let go of the ladder and came to stand by them. She looked so small, so young.

"You've done such a good job," Tom said. "We're very proud of you. Aren't we?"

"Of course," Sabine said, her voice still tight. "Very."

Marinette stood up a little straighter. "Thanks. Sorry I couldn't tell you."

"This is all so amazing," Tom said. "So Tikki helps you become Ladybug? Are those earrings your miraculous? Why does Hawk Moth want them?"

Marinette's hand hovered over her ear protectively. "Yeah, these are them. And we're not really sure what his whole plan is…"

"But you do know some?" he asked.

"Yeah…" Marinette glanced over at Tikki, who said nothing.

"So where did you and Cat Noir get them? How did you two-" Sabine waved to Tikki, "-meet?"

"Uh." Again, Marinette glanced at Tikki, like she was asking permission to tell her own parents the truth.

"I'm sorry," Tikki said, hovering between Marinette and Sabine. "I don't think she should say. Secrets about the miraculous need-"

"Excuse me," Sabine snapped. "I was talking to my daughter."

The mood in the room turned icy. The creature's eyes tightened around the edges, like it was sizing up the situation. And then it floated off to sit on Marinette's desk without another word.

Marinette watched the thing go, frowning, like she'd been abandoned. Sabine felt an intense dislike for the creature. Tricking a child into risking her life every single day and lying to her parents about everything? Who would do that?

Tom put a hand on Sabine's shoulder. "I'm sure there are security risks involved that we don't know about," he said.

Marinette smiled gratefully at him while Sabine shrugged his hand off.

"That doesn't take away the fact that this is extremely dangerous," Sabine said. "Do you have to fight Hawk Moth?"

"Mama!" Marinette said, taking a step back. "Of course, we do! We can't just let him terrorize Paris like this."

"That's not what she meant, sweetheart," Tom said, reached out for her and pulled her back to stand closer to them. "Couldn't you give the miraculous to someone else?" he asked, trying to make it sound more like a suggestion instead of the pleading that it was.

"No, I can't." It was Marinette's turn to glare at him, and he sighed.

"We could find someone else," Tikki said. (Marinette's glare was quick to find a new target.) "But it wouldn't put her out of danger completely. She has been chosen for this. If Hawk Moth sought her out in retaliation, she wouldn't have any way to defend herself."

"I want to do this," Marinette said. "Cat Noir needs me. We're very experienced. We've never lost yet."

"It only takes one defeat," Sabine said.

"I'm not going to lose." Marinette wrapped an arm around each of them, pulling them in closer. "I know you're worried about me, but please don't. I'm a superhero. I protect civilians, and that includes you. It's my job to worry about you now." They leaned both into her as she spoke. "And I have Tikki and Cat Noir, and his kwami too. You've always had so much faith in us. Please don't suddenly doubt me just because she's, well, me. You don't need to worry."

"The suit will protect her from almost everything," Tikki added.

"This isn't a child's job." Sabine hugged her daughter tightly. "We're your parents. We're supposed to be worrying about you. You aren't supposed to be worrying about anything except for school and making friends and having fun. This shouldn't be your job. You're not allowed to worry like this."

"I chose this job, Mama. Please understand. I want this."

They stayed like that for a while, Sabine holding her daughter close, Tom's arms around both of them. There didn't seem anything she could say to change Marinette's mind, and she wasn't sure what Marinette would do if Sabine ordered her to give the earrings up.

She didn't know her own daughter well enough to know what she would do.

Tom finally sighed. "As long as you don't get hurt."

"And you always finish your homework," Sabine added.

Marinette smiled up at them. "Usually my late homework doesn't have anything to do with superheroing. I just don't want to do it. I'll try harder, though."

Sabine took a deep breath in, glad that something was going her way in this conversation. Finally.

Marinette led them out from under her loft bed, and the kwami thing decided it was safe to rejoin the group. It kept trying to catch Sabine's eye with placating smiles, but Sabine didn't engage with it.

"We watched your fight today. Looked pretty intense," Tom said, as Marinette sat down at her desk and started pulling scraps of fabric toward herself. She didn't do anything with them except pick at the frayed edges. With each strand she pulled out, her shoulders became more relaxed, and the strain on her face that had appeared when she realized she was caught started to slip away.

"It wasn't that bad," Marinette said. "Sticky and gross, mostly."

"I want to talk to Cat Noir," Sabine said abruptly.

"What? No." Marinette dropped the blue-patterned fabric square she'd been playing with.

"Why not? You spend a lot of time with him. We'd like to meet him. He's obviously important to you."

"Because then I'd have to tell him who I am. No one is supposed to know who I am. No one."

"And I'm to assume you don't know who he is either?"

Marinette shook her head.

"I'm not sure I'm comfortable with you spending time with a boy you don't know that well. It's like meeting someone from the internet."

"Mama, it's not like that at all." Marinette stood. "He was chosen too. And I do know him."

"I have a right to know who my daughter spends time with."

"No, you don't. Not when it puts my partner's identity at risk."

Out of the corner of her eye, Sabine watched Tom's gaze volley back and forth, willing her husband to take her side.

"How about this," Tom said. "We can write him a letter, and you can deliver it the next time you see him."

"Deal," Marinette said quickly.

They both looked at Sabine. Even Tikki looked up from the cookie she was nibbling on.

"You don't have a problem with that?" Sabine said, daring the thing to disagree.

It shook its head. "A letter sounds like a nice idea."

"Fine then," Sabine said, "but you can't read it, Marinette."

"Why not?"

Sabine said nothing. There really wasn't a reason for it.

"Fine," Marinette said, folding her arms like she always did when she knew she'd lost an argument. "I'll take it to him. We have patrol tomorrow night."

"And you won't peek?" Sabine asked.

"No, I won't peek." Marinette pushed past her parents and went back up to her balcony, a sign that she wanted to be alone. Just before the skylight snapped shut behind her, Sabine heard her mutter something about "parents" and "losing all faith in her."

"We wouldn't have," Sabine said, "if you'd been honest with us." She looked directly at Tikki, so it would know who should be feeling the guilt for the situation.

Tikki didn't look upset at all. Could it even feel emotions like that? It sat there and held her gaze, looking at her with old eyes, until Sabine finally looked away.

Tom stayed silent, rubbing his fingers across the fabric Marinette had abandoned, face solemn.

Sabine had never felt so helpless in her life. Her only child, her baby, shouldn't feel like she had to protect her parents. No child should have to do that. And Marinette couldn't even see how wrong this all was.

Read Chapter Three

***

Author’s note: I said two updates this week, forgetting that I had a Spanish final. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

@tbehartoo​ @redhoodsdoll @salsyy301 @lunadensmidnightprowl @kayla0binow @fleurie3am15inspo 

[instasiswetrust]

“Mindflayer ... from Dungeons and Dragons, right?” Harrington’s voice sounds uniquely fragile. Like thin ice and crystal glass, one wayward push and he’d shatter.

He hates his stage name. He hates it so fucking much. It aches and hurts like an old scar.

“Yep.” He says, popping the p and flashing his favorite client a smile that he doesn’t mean at all. “Used to love to play, but when I moved here ... never found a party. It’s a fun stage name, even if it doesn’t really fit me.”

He’s too loose-lipped. Half of that was a secret he was supposed to take to the grave. It’s too nerdy an admittance. It makes his elbow and ribs ache, like phantom breaks.

“No.” Harrington whispers, settling into the softness of the stylized bed. “No, it suits you.”

Billy pauses. Raises an eyebrow.

“You have that kind of ... enchanting presence. And - and I’ve never played dungeons and dragons, but my brother does. I know enough.” And there’s an awkward laugh. Nervous. Honest.

Harrington lays upon the altar-bed with his limbs spread, ready for the restraints. Ready for the 80’s gothic fantasy wet dreams that the room embodies so well. There’s a smile on his face and a shine to his eyes. “So flay my mind. Give me that dying fantasy that the corebooks preach about.”

“And what would that be, dollface?” Billy finds his voice steady and stable, even if his soul’s lost its way.

Steve Harrington swallows. His Adam’s apple bobs in a way that speaks of sorrow and loneliness.

“Love.” He whispers, and Billy knows this is the horizon before him. “I want you to make me believe that I’m loved. Just this once.”

---

Alcohol and heartache are things that should never be mixed. Steve knows this, and yet he refuses to follow the one rule he insisted on Dustin learning.

It's the only reason he's able to request something like that. To lower his mask enough to show the fragility underneath the marble exterior.

A ring. That's what the picture Will sent Dustin had shown. A ring on Jonathan’s finger, and Nancy down on one knee. Engagement. Steve hadn't been able to stay long enough to know the details.

So when Mindflayer calls him Princess, when he presses soft kisses to his lips and thrusts with agonizing slowness. Well, he’s not surprised when the first sob punches out of his chest in a rush.

Fragile. Broken. Ugly. Heart-wrenching.

He wants to cover his mouth but his hands are still bound and there's only so much biting down on his lip can do.

Because he's ruining this. Fuck. He's ruining this and now Mind’s pretty face is twisting up in worry, and this is not at all what Steve wanted.

Not enough. Never enough.

---

He didn’t bank on making Harrington cry.

Half-way stuck - should he pull out? Press in? He knows the safe word. He’s fully able to use it — it’s not like he broke out the gags and restraints. This is mock love, not pain.

“Hey,” he whispers and pulls the man closer. Leaning in to kiss at the spaces he can reach, through the tears and twisting. “Don’t cry, princess. I’ve got you.”

The words he wishes he was given, he gives to his client. The tenderness in every motion, soft intimacy lain carefully like a veil over that pretty face. This is what love looks and feels like, right? He’s not sure, but this is what he hopes it’s like.

“It’s okay, baby.” If it was like this, he thinks, then —

“I got you.”

---

The thing is, Steve doesn't want to stop.

Sure, he wants to cover his face, wants to press at his eyes until the tears stop falling, wants to quiet the sobs falling unbidden from pink kissed lips.

But stopping is not something he wants.

Not even if that means he has to let this man, this person he barely knows but who has learned his body more intimately than any lover before, watch the shattered edges that hide under all the marble.

“S...S-Sorry, ” There’s a wryness to the curl of his lips, and everything looks blurry behind the sheen of tears that covers his eyes. “Just. P-Please.”

He's not sure what he is asking for anymore, though.

Please make me forget. Please don't stop. Please take away the pain.

Please, love me.

---

“Of course, Princess.” Billy pulls a smile onto his face and smooths the worry over. One hand slips from Harrington’s famous waist to cup his jaw. Thumb away some of those tears. Kiss away the rest.

All the love he never got, he gives away. From the empty garden of his chest, he digs for a fire he’s never known. Things he’s only seen in moves, heard in cafes, felt between the distances of picket fences and broken glass — this is what he comes back with. False diamonds to offer to an angel who hasn’t a clue either.

“Anything you want,” Billy whispers as he presses closer, pace steady still, but changed. Holding Steve in full now. The thrusts are shallow, but his arms are full and their hearts are only an inch apart.

Does it count? Is it right? What would an unearthly monster know of human love? What would an angel? He’s thinking too hard on this.

“Forever and always.”

---

But all things must come to an end.

Curled up on his side, trying to glue all the shattered pieces of himself back together while quiet tears slide down his cheeks, Steve wonders why did he ever think this was a good idea.

Because asking for fake love — So real. Too real. — doesn't change the fact that Jonathan and Nancy are engaged. It doesn't erase the fact that the next time he sees them he's gonna have to pretend like he's just happy for them, like the glass shards embedded in his heart do not exist and his chest doesn't ache with each soft smile they give each other.

At which point did they stop being able to see past his facades, he wonders.

Pathetic, Not enough. Never enough, are you Stevie?

With a shaky sigh, he wipes the remaining tears off his face and sits up. This is not Mind's fault in the slightest, not his fault that Steve is a pathetic mess who needs to buy fake love to try and get over his exes. So he pulls himself back together as best as he can and offers a weak smile.

"You know, you could make a really good acting career if you ever decided to leave this place."

---

That punches a laugh out of him before he can think better of it. Almost everyone who dances at the Auris fit that bill, even if half of them would do better in certain genres.

“Maybe.” Billy says, already knowing that his rap sheet has a stain and he’ll never be free of that. This is as close to stardom as he’ll get. “This has way more security than a bunch of Hollywood maybes, though.”

Harrington still hasn’t recovered. The walls don’t carry sound but they shake in the way that means someone violent is entertaining. Idly, he wonders who, and are they as wild as his night just was?

“Hope I see you around, dollface.” He itches to light up a cigarette. There’s no smoking allowed in the building though. He’d have to wander upwards to the roof for that and that’s too far right now.

“Tonight was fun.”

---

"Fun." He mutters, sliding off the bed onto shaky legs to search for his clothes. A wet chuckle leaves his lips, sounding a little wry. "Yeah, I guess we could call it that."

There's no need to say anything else after all. Not like he can say anything else. Hell, he can't even look Mind in the face right now, not if he wants his tentative defenses to hold up until he gets back home.

Home. Hah, if you could even call that sky loft a home.

So he gets dressed and offers a weak smile and a goodbye. Makes sure to tip higher than he usually would before leaving the building.

Resolves to try out dating again and visit the Auris less.

Too bad it's not that easy to get Mindflayer out of his mind.

[little-fandom]

To Feel Your Heartbeat Next To Mine

And suddenly, they’re dancing. Magnus decides that he could stay like this forever. He has all he needs. His lover, his Alexander is close to him, holding him and he's not scared. He knows Alec will never let go.

Alec smiles softly the next time he dips him, his eyes crinkling at the corners. It’s one of Magnus’ favourite smiles, the one that truly means happiness and comfort. He doesn’t get to see it a lot these days. 

read on ao3

And suddenly, they’re dancing.

Alec just sweeps him up in his arms, like it was some common thing, their routine, something they do every day.

One moment Magnus was standing in the middle of the living room and now Alec is spinning him around and dipping lightly.

He may not know where this whole thing came from, but he resorts he likes it.

No, he loves it.

Being close to Alec, being able to feel his heartbeat as they press their chests flush together. He can feel his glamour slipping, but he doesn’t care. He knows Alec finds him beautiful, no matter what eyes.

They keep swaying to the soft music playing around the loft. There is a certain fineness in Alec's moves. Something Magnus wouldn't expect from him. They're spinning and taking a bit tentative steps. But they're doing good. More than good. It feels amazing.

Magnus decides that he could stay like this forever. He has all he needs. His lover, his Alexander is close to him, holding him and he's not scared. He knows Alec will never let go.

He doesn’t know how much times passes, doesn’t really care. The whole world might have been on fire and still, Magnus would only care for his Shadowhunter. As long as he’s safe, that’s what matters the most.

Alec smiles softly the next time he dips him, his eyes crinkling at the corners. It’s one of Magnus’ favourite smiles, the one that truly means happiness and comfort. He doesn’t get to see it a lot these days.

Magnus closes his eyes and lets that image burn into his memory. Alec straightens their position and Magnus can feel him leaning in close, can feel his breath ghosting on his face and he smiles at the realization of what’s to come.

But instead of feeling Alec’s lips on his, his lover begins to speak.

“You need to wake up, baby.”

Magnus opens his eyes, confused at what he means. Alec still smiles, and he reaches with his palms to cup his face, creasing his cheeks gently.

And Magnus wants to ask, wants to know what he means, because he’s very much awake. He’s here, with Alec, in their home, and it’s lovely. It feels like none of their worries can reach them here. And Magnus doesn’t plan to let go of this feeling.

It feels perfect.

Way too perfect.

Abruptly, Magnus recognizes that he doesn’t really know how he got here. The last thing he remembers is being in Alec’s office…

He knows his glamour is down, but it isn’t right. He doesn’t have his magic, his cat eyes are gone.

He remembers the feeling of choking on blood, the inability to breathe. He vaguely recalls the picture of Alec’s concerned face as he began to step towards him. And then, there was darkness.

But it isn’t true. Alec is right here, he’s smiling and his beautiful, hazel eyes are shining in the sunlight. There’s no hint of this concern Magnus saw what feels just like a second ago.

“You need to come back to the real world.” Alec whispers as his eyes settle on Magnus’.

Magnus reaches with his hands and wraps them around Alexander’s neck. What does he mean? This is real. They are real. Magnus can sense it, can feel Alec’s steady pulse underneath his palm.

“You have to go back. They need you.” Alec speaks again.

Who? He has everything he needs right here.

“I need you.” His boyfriend adds.

“I’m right here.” Magnus is surprised at how weak and feeble his voice sounds. He barely gets these words out.

Alec shakes his head lightly, his expression a bit amused, the smile still playing at the corner of his lips.

“No,” He starts. “no, you’re not. Not really.”

Magnus looks at him confused, but a part of him has already figured this whole thing out. But he doesn’t want to listen to that part. Not now, not ever.

Alec huffs out a small laugh and leans in to kiss him. Magnus gets lost in the feeling of their lips brushing together, but way too soon for his liking, Alec pulls back.

“I love you. And I need you back with me. The real me.” He says, staring deep into Magnus’ eyes, so hard that he has a feeling his Shadowhunter can see his soul.

“I love you too.” Magnus whispers and his arms tighten around his lover. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“That’s why you need to wake up, love.” Alec smiles again and hugs him as tightly as he. Magnus buries his head into his shoulder and feels the tears building up in his eyes.

“I can’t.” He speaks, his voice muffled by the material of Alec’s suit jacket, but it’s enough for his lover to hear him. “I’m scared.” He admits.

“I am too.” Alec replies and Magnus feels his hands running up and down his back lightly in a soothing gesture. “Because you’re not there with me.” He continues as he pulls back to meet Magnus’ eyes again. “And we can only figure this out, when we’re together.”

“I want to stay here. With you.” Magnus desperately clings onto him. “This is all I need. I want nothing more.”

Here he has Alec, he has his magic. That’s enough. Always was and always will be. That’s selfish of him, but he doesn’t care. He’s terrified of what he will find when he wakes up. The fear, the slowly escalating effects of losing his magic. He’ll die, he knows it. His age will catch up to him. And here, he doesn’t feel any of this panic. It’s peaceful and calm. Why would he ever want to go back.

“This isn’t real, baby.” Alec reminds him, ever the pragmatic and responsible one. Even this imaginative version of him is like this. “And you have a family that needs you back there.”

“Here I have you.” Magnus tries.

“Yes, but I’m back there too. And so are the others.”

Magnus thinks of Catarina, Madzie, Raphael, Isabelle, Clary, Simon, Luke, Jace… of everyone. His family. He never thought he’d find people who would accept him just the way he is.

“They love you.” Alec prompts. “You can’t leave them too.”

He knows he can’t. It would be devastating and he never wants to cause them pain.

And then he thinks of Alexander. Of how he last saw him. Worry clear on his face, the fear he must be feeling now, when Magnus is lying unconscious on his office’s floor.

This one here is not his Alec. He might look like him and sound like him, but he’ll never be his Alexander.

“I know.” Magnus agrees with Alec’s earlier words. “But I can’t-, I don’t know how-“

“Just close your eyes and breathe.” Alec advices him. “We’ll always find our way back to each other.”

Magnus does as he’s told and slips his eyes shut. Breathing in deeply. He swears he can here Alec’s voice, but not the soft one which spoke to him a second before, not this Alec’s voice, not the one’s who’s holding him in his arms now, but his Alexander’s, back at home.

 Magnus, please.. no, wake up. Please don’t leave me. Please, I love you.

He takes on last deep breath and opens his eyes.

 He doesn’t feel like he’s choking anymore, but his chest still hurts and it’s hard to breath. His eyes are open, but it’s like his brain hasn’t caught up to them yet, and he can’t see anything. When he finally does, it’s blurry and unfocused, but he’s met with his lover’s eyes.

Alec is looking down on him, tears streaming down his cheeks, his expression a mix of fear, grief and pain. He lets out a long exhale as Magnus blinks a few time to regain his focus. He vaguely registers another person in the room. Catarina is kneeling next to Alec, blue magic only now dying at the ends of her fingers.

“Magnus, I thought-“ Alec starts, but then a sob escapes his throat. Magnus reaches with his hand to crease his boyfriend’s arm, let him know he’s really here, that he’s okay.

Alec moves to hug him, clinging tightly onto his body and sobbing into his shoulder. Magnus lets him. It’s enough for him to feel his lover’s heartbeat now. It’s uneven, way too fast, but it lets Magnus know that he’s here too.

“I can’t lose you. I can’t.” Alec cries into his shoulder. “I’m so sorry Magnus, I’m sorry.”

Magnus hugs him back, way weaker than he does, but he tries. He feels exhausted, too tired to tell Alec than none of this is his fault. He already said it before, a lot of Times. But his Shadowhunter continues to blame himself for all this mess. Magnus doesn't feel like he could speak now, but he tries to give the reassurance with his comforting touch. He’ll do anything to reassure Alexander now. It’s going to be fine, they’ll figure this out together.

“I thought you were gone, I-“ Alec still rumbles, his voice wet for crying. “I can’t-, no I-“

“We’ll always find our way back to each other.” Magnus whispers faintly and another sob overcomes Alec’s body.

He doesn’t know how long that stay like this. How long Alec cries in his arms, on the floor in his office. He doesn’t care. As long as he has Alexander, as long as they’re both here, together, nothing else matters.

[ficdirectory]

Somewhere Inside (Disuphere series #4) Chapter 20

(To listen, click here) - 13:48

Jesus can’t quite shake the feeling he gets every single time someone recognizes him.  Every time someone asks that question.  “Are you Jesus Foster?” Because it’s coming up on ten years since he got away.  And no matter how much time passes, he finds he still feels a rage inside hearing those words.

Because it’s self-serving.  They’re not talking to him for him.  They’re talking to him for them.  He wished he got to talk to Dominique about it, but she’s upstairs in  the loft, waiting for Levi.

Rationally, Jesus knows it’s good for her to be there.  Levi needs somebody.  He’s had a beyond rough day.  Jesus knows what it looks like when you just escaped a predator, and that’s basically how Levi looked.  Still.  He wishes there were somebody he could talk to about this.  

It can’t be Pearl.  That would be awkward, complaining about how he wished he could punch her mom in the face.  Can’t be Francesca, because he can’t put this stuff on her.  She’s too little.

“Why do you look like that?” Mariana asks, startling him.

“Look like what?” he asks, irritated.

He’s sitting in front of a sub sandwich.  Not realizing his jaw is super tense until Mariana sits down next to him.  He tries to breathe.  Knows he needs to eat.  He can’t let Pearl’s mom’s assery factor into his wellbeing.  But it does factor in.

It makes him feel like a thing to use.  Like he exists to be gawked at.  To owe people the info they ask for, at the exact time they ask.  

It’s not so different from being kidnapped.

“What happened outside?” Mari pushes gently.

“Nothing,” he drops his voice.  “Somebody recognized me…”

Mari’s eyes grow concerned.  “Just a rando?  Or?”

He nods at Pearl.

Mariana follows his gaze but doesn’t follow his train of thought.  Their twinbrain isn’t activated.  It isn’t usually for stuff from Then for him, or the car accident for her.

“Her mom,” he says lowly, clearing his throat.  “Said Pearl said we were here.  It was creepy.  Like she was just hanging around to approach me…”

Mariana wrinkles her nose.  She offers Jesus the pickle off her own plate.  Pickles are the best, obviously.  They both save them for last.  

He waves it off.  “No.  It’s yours.”

“Jesus,” she says simply.

“I know.  I will, okay?  I’ll eat.  I’m just…”

“You’re safe,” Mariana insists.  “Dominique and Levi? Francesca and Pearl?  Me and you?  We’re here.  We’re all here for each other.  We’re not gonna hurt you.  Please eat my pickle,” she practically begs, setting it on his plate.

Jesus regards it for a long time.  Finally, he picks it up.  Takes a bite.  The sharp tang of vinegar is like a jolt through him.  Wakes him up from low-level dissociation that had been threatening to get worse if he couldn’t eat.  Luckily, Mariana knows that.

She sits with him while he eats.  It’s agonizingly slow.  But he’s in a rare headspace where if someone tried to help him, he’d shut down.  So, having Mariana near him helps.  It’s what he needs.

When he’s done, they climb the stairs to join Dominique, Jesus giving Mariana a hand.

“I was just telling Mariana about…” Jesus nods at the door.

Dominique’s eyes darken.  She nods.  It’s stiff.

“Is Levi okay?” Mariana asks.  “You guys know he got sick when there was a knock on our door…”

“No, I didn’t…” Dominique says.  Her face is unreadable.

“No way.  That sucks,” Jesus breathes, sympathetic.  “Dominique, are you okay?  From before?”

“Are you?” she volleys the question back, a slight challenge in her eyes.  A warning.  “Let’s just not talk about it.  I mean, you guys can.  But not here.  I don’t want this to turn into social hour.”

“Okay,” Jesus says, taking the hint.  “Mari, you wanna stay here?” he asks, standing up.

“Yeah, I’ll stay,” she says, bumping shoulders with Dominique.  Dominique bumps her back.

“I think I’m gonna see if I can find a life jacket for Frankie.  See if she wants to go out on the dock.”

“You gonna be okay out there?” Dominique asks.  

“Yeah.  Should be.  Dudley will be with me,” Jesus nods.

Jesus goes down to the living room where Francesca’s got her headphones on in front of her IPad.  Pearl’s asleep on their couch.  Cleo’s curled under her arm.

“Hey, buddy.  If you wanna go out on the dock with me, I can look for a life jacket for you…” he offers, tapping her on the shoulder.

“Pearl fell asleep before Moana even left…” Francesca reports, disappointed.

“She had a tough day,” Jesus says.

“Because her mom yelled at her,” Francesca fills in.  “I know.  It’s still rude to fall asleep when you say you’re gonna do something with someone.”

Jesus walks with Francesca outside.  He looks through Grandpa’s shed and finds an ancient orange life jacket with Snoopy on the front.

“No.  That’s so babyish, Jesus, please.” Francesca whines.

“We don’t have to go on the dock.  I just remember you wanted to.”

“Do I have to wear that?  What if I promise to be super careful?” she bargains.

“Francesca,” Jesus squats in front of her.  Dudley licks his face for a good measure.  “No one’s gonna tease you here, remember?” he says gently.  “If you wanna go on the dock, you’ve gotta wear the life jacket.  That’s the deal.”

“It makes me feel stupid,” Francesca blurts, looking hurt.

“Staying alive isn’t stupid,” Jesus says, dangerously close to his worst Isaac memories.  “Staying alive is really smart.”

“You wouldn’t let me drown,” Francesca pushes back.  “I know you.  You’d save me.”

“I can’t save everybody, Francesca,” he explains sadly.  “I don’t wanna take that chance with you.  It’s too big a risk, when there’s an easy fix.”

“You just don’t wanna save me if I fall in…” Francesca pouts.

“Buddy, what’s really going on?  Talk to me.” Jesus tries.  “Take a deep breath.”

She does, blinking back tears.  Jesus sees it when she absently (or maybe not) pinches the skin on her arm hard.

“Can I hold your hands?” he asks.

Francesca crosses her arms.  Doesn’t look at him.  Loses her balance.  Catches herself on a tree.

Jesus sits down where he is.  Hopes Francesca might follow suit.  He hasn’t spent this much uninterrupted time with her in a while.  Hasn’t realized her self harming has reached the point where she does it in front of people.  Or maybe, she does it in front of them because she knows they won’t judge her.

Dudley rests half his giant body in Jesus’s lap.  It helps.  This day has been super trigger heavy, between Levi, and Pearl’s mom, and now thinking of Isaac, and watching his baby sis do this…  He needs Dudley right now.

Francesca stands until she can’t anymore.  Until her legs literally give out.  She starts tearing up the grass around her. “Why do you keep hurting my feelings?” she asks brokenly.  

“Buddy, I’m sorry.  I’m really sorry I hurt your feelings.  I never wanna do that.  I’m just trying to understand.  And I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“Well, you don’t understand.  And you obviously don’t want me to be safe.  So you might as well stop trying.”  She’s still focused on destroying the grass around her.

“I do want to understand, and I definitely want you to be safe.” Jesus insists gently.

“Then stop saying you’re gonna not gonna save me if I drown!” she screams suddenly, staring at him, face flushed and tears threatening.  “That’s mean and it hurts my feelings!”

He’s quiet a while.  Giving Francesca’s anger space.  In case she needs to say more.  Turns out, she does.

“It doesn’t make sense to say you love me if you don’t care about me drowning!  That makes zero sense!  And it doesn’t make sense because I know you could save me.  So why do I have to wear a dumb life jacket?!  People already stare at me, Jesus!  I don’t wanna give them another reason!  I don’t wanna look even more stupid than I already do!  Why won’t you just be there, and save me if I fall?!”

Jesus waits again.  Makes sure Francesca’s done screaming before he tries to talk to her.  When he does, he knows he’s taking a risk, but he also knows he has to try to explain his word choice to her.  

“When I was twelve...just a little bit older than you...I tried to save my best friend.”

“Mariana?”  Francesca asks, confusion overtaking her anger.  

“No, another best friend,” Jesus confesses.  “Our family didn’t know him.  Only I did.”

“Was it Dominique?  Pearl?” Francesca quizzes.

“Buddy, please listen.  This is hard for me to say.  But I want to share it with you, so you understand where I’m coming from about this life jacket thing.  That I’m not trying to be mean to you.”

“I just have one more question,” she whispers.

“What?”

“Was I born yet?” Francesca asks.

Jesus thinks back.  June of 2010.  “Yeah, you were.  You were 2 months old.  Still in the hospital back in San Diego, I think.  But I didn’t know about you yet.”

Realization dawns.  “Oh.  This was when the bad guy took you…” she asks slowly.

“Right.  And after a while, he took another boy, too.  We got to be friends.  And one day, I tried to save him.  As hard as I could.  Only I couldn’t do it.”

Jesus is seriously editing the horror he went through trying to save Isaac following an escape attempt Jesus had started.  Jesus can’t think about the details much or he starts to disappear - to dissociate.  And he needs to stay here, to explain this to Francesca.

“Where is he?” Francesca asks, wide eyed.

“You know the cemetery, like where Grandpa Frank is?” he asks.  “He’s in one of those.”

“Oh,” Francesca says, stunned.  “He died.”

Jesus nods.  

“Oh.  So...wait…no.  I don’t get it.” Francesca admits.  “Sorry.”

“I’m not saying I won’t save you, Fran.  If you fell in the water?  I’d try as hard as I could to save you.  And maybe I’d get to you in time.  But maybe my best wouldn’t be good enough.  Like when I was twelve.  Maybe I’d try as hard as I could and it wouldn’t work.”  He pauses.  “I don’t wanna risk your life when I don’t have to.  If the life jacket will help you stay alive until I can get to you - if it will help me see where you are...I want you to have it on.”

Francesca’s staring at him.  Trying hard to soak all of this in.

“I get not wanting to be noticed extra.  I do.  People notice who I am all the time and it makes me angry.  It makes me feel different.”

“Me, too,” Francesca comments softly.

“That’s not why I want you to wear this…” Jesus ventures.

“It’s so...in case I do fall...you’d be able to save me better?” Francesca asks.

Jesus nods.  “Yeah.  That’s why.”  He lets out a breath he didn’t know he’s been holding.

She takes the life jacket without a word and puts it on.  Struggles to zip it.  “It squishes me,” she says.  “And it kinda smells.  Are you sure there’s no people staring?”

“I’m sure,” Jesus says, taking the opportunity to scope for Pearl’s mom.  He doesn’t see her.  Thank goodness.

“Can I ask a trauma question?” she asks, as they walk hand in hand onto the dock.  

Jesus doesn’t answer until they’re both seated on the ancient white painted dock chair.

“I think so,” he says, after considering it.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” Francesca reassures.  “But...I was just wondering…  If your best friend had a life jacket...would that have made a difference?”

“No, buddy,” Jesus says, defeated.  “But thanks for remembering to ask me first about the trauma question.  That’s cool that you remembered.”

“I’m sorry I yelled at you…” Francesca apologizes.  “And I’m sorry about your friend.”

Jesus sniffs, blinking back tears.  “Thanks.”

“Feelings suck sometimes, huh?” Francesca mutters darkly.

“Yeah, they do,” Jesus sighs.  

--

Levi wakes up unsure of where he is.  What time it is.  What day.  Then it all comes seeping back into his awareness.

Carla coming over.  Carla, when he was a kid.  

The other knock at the door.

Levi pulls the blankets up.  He feels like he could sleep for a year.  He wants to, but he has to get up and pee.  He comes out, squinting hard and shielding his eyes from the bright light outside the dark bedroom.

He sees Dominique on the top step.  Her back to him.  It makes  him feel good that she’s there.  She glances at him, but he doesn’t look back.  He goes in the bathroom and locks the door behind himself.  

Being in here?  Doing this?  Brings back sensations he can actually feel.  He cringes.  Tries to hurry and get this over with so he can put everything back the way it’s meant to be.

He washes his hands at the sink, avoiding his reflection in the mirror.

Finally, he cracks the door open.  Dominique’s still out here.

Levi doesn’t know where to go.  What to say.  Anything.  He still feels those sensations.  Even with his sweats and everything.  He’s standing just outside the bathroom, shifting.

“Hey,” Dominique calls.

Levi sits down.  “Think I might be...I don’t know...something…” he ventures, hoarse.

“Something?” Dominique turns.  “Can I come sit across from you?”

He nods.

“What’s something?  Can you tell me about it?” Dominique tries, quiet.

Levi ducks his head.  “Like...something wrong…” he clarifies.  “Like, with me…  I keep feeling...like it’s happening again…  Like, actually.”

“That’s normal,” Dominique reassures.  “It sucks.  But it’s normal.  It happens.  Just...know you are safe here.  That includes your body.  That includes privately on your body...” she says, remembering the words he chose to use.  “Nobody’s gonna hurt you there.”

Levi doesn’t look at her.  But he does listen.  He clears his throat.

Dominique hands him a bottle of water.  “Stay as long as you like.  Be safe with us.”

Tears roll off his face.  

Levi’s never heard kinder words.

[agentmarymargaretskitz]

Where We Started Chapter 11

After hearing out Miranda Coburn, the eight individuals make up their minds of what to do.

AO3, Fanfiction

Helena

“You disappeared off the comms because a woman from the future kidnapped you along with a bunch of other people to help her in stopping some guy named Vandal Savage?”

               Helena nodded along with Rene’s words. She looked over her shoulder again to make sure that none of the other Merlyn Global employees were in earshot. Lucky for her, those present seemed to be in an early morning pre-coffee daze. If not for the espressos she’d gotten earlier, she’d be in a similar state given she had flown back in her suit from Central City.

“I’ve already attempted to look up Miranda Coburn, but I got no results,” Helena told Rene. “So the being from the future thing might not be far off.”

“Are you going to join her on this mission?” her friend asked, taking a sip of his own coffee. “Do you want to go time traveling?”

               She sighed. People here in Fawcett City took the Atom as a part of their daily lives, but didn’t regard her highly like they did with the heroes in Star and Central City. It wasn’t that she cared for the recognition, not completely. Still, it’d be nice to not turn on the radio without hearing people constantly bashing her because ‘the crime wouldn’t continue if the Atom was a man’.

“I’m curious about it,” she admitted. “And then there’s other metahumans on that team, so I won’t be the shrinking freak.”

“Then go,” Rene urged her.

Helena grinned before faltering. “But my job…”

“You’ve got vacation days,” he suggested. “Besides, maybe this is the push we’ve needed to start out own company once you get back. I don’t want to deal with Jerry for the rest of my days.”

“Me neither,” Helena shook her head. “You know what? I’m going to do it.”

“Yes!” Rene cheered before lowering his voice. “I’m gonna miss our crime fighting gig though.”

“About that,” she smiled. “With me gone, there’s going to need to be a new protector of Fawcett City. Once I’ve left, go to the loft. Everything you’ll need will be there.”

Caitlin

               When Charlie entered the headquarters of Star City’s heroes, Caitlin started smiling. She rose from the seat by the computers and walked over. The siblings wrapped each other in a hug. The last time they had seen each other, Caitlin had told him she was leaving Star City to find herself again post-resurrection and to discover a way to control the bloodlust inside her. That had been months ago, and now Caitlin had arrived to tell him what had happened to her recently.

“You used to hate leaving home unless it was for school,” Charlie chuckled, twirling one of his Firebird batons. “Now you’re a world traveler, and you’re gonna be a time traveler.”

Caitlin smiled and sat back on the railing. “I’ve changed a lot since the Wand, Charlie. That, the League, the pit…it’s all changed me. Now, every time I fight someone, I fight myself too. Everywhere I’ve searched hasn’t turned up a thing that can help me. Maybe what I need to control the bloodlust is in the past or even the future?”

He grinned.

“Besides, I’ll be helping save the future,” she added. “Who’d have thought the Phoenix would wind up here?”

“Speaking of the Phoenix,” Charlie glanced behind him. “There’s something that you need to see.”

               Caitlin wrinkles her brow as Charlie led her over to the cases where he and the other members of Team Arrow kept their vigilante suits. Her brother opened one of them up and step back beside her with a proud smile. Inside, a mannequin wore dark blue leathers. A small smile spread over Caitlin’s face as she stared at it.

“How did you-”

“STAR Labs,” Charlie answered. “Part of Team Flash collaborated to make this for you.”

She stepped closer, studying it. “There’s not a mask.”

“Because you don’t need one,” her brother told her. “You don’t have to hide in the shadows anymore, Cait. Live in the light. Be the Blue Phoenix.”

Caitlin raised an eyebrow. “Blue Phoenix?”

“Eddie’s idea,” Charlie shrugged. “Besides, blue always has been your favorite color.”

The assassin who had risen from the dead hugged her brother. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” he replied. “Just do one thing. Make sure you save the future.”

Lily

               She told her parents she would be going somewhere distant with Linda. It wasn’t a total lie, but Lily didn’t want her parents to worry about her. As for her brother and sister, she felt more comfortable telling them the truth of the mission. Both were metahumans, and Leonard had once time traveled anyways. Lily had a feeling her time travel adventures were going to be vastly different than what he had gone through though.

“Does Linda know you’re going?” Lisa asked after Lily arrived at her lab and told her and Leonard about what she was planning to do. “You need her to be Firestorm.”

Lily nodded. “After Miranda left us, we talked about it. She wanted in and so did I. Plus, it’s time travel.”

“Geek,” Leonard teased.

“Jerk,” Lisa rolled her eyes at him before turning back to Lily. “So you’re really going to do this? Time travel?”

“I am,” Lily nodded. “You two faced Savage before. This time, we’re going to put a permanent end to him.”

“Which I thought we had done the first time,” Leonard grumbled. “But make sure it gets done this time.”

“Relax, we’ve got this,” Lily shrugged. “Even if Cold and Gold are with us. Honestly, the thought of a ruined Central City probably will get them on board to help us.”

“I’m questioning this woman’s leadership if she’d recruited two Rogues,” he muttered with a shake of his head. “But seriously, Lily. Stay safe.”

“I’m going to be fine,” she laughed. “Although I have to take care of some stuff before I leave.”

Lisa rose from her chair and hugged her. “I’ll miss you, sis. Don’t get into too much trouble out there.”

“Why would you think I would?”

Her sister smirked and Lily sighed. “Actually, don’t answer that.”

“We’d be here all day if she did,” Leonard grinned as Lily turned toward him. “A word of advice. Be careful when you’re messing around in the timeline.”

“Noted, big brother,” she nodded.

“But I’ll miss you too, Lil.”

“I’ll miss you too, Len. Both of you,” Lily said. “Don’t you and Sara start having babies until I get back from this.”

Her brother groaned. “Really, Lily?”

Lisa shook her head at them. Lily looked between her siblings. The three of them were not all blood, but they had always been there for each other. Now, she was going to have to lend a hand in saving the future for them and all their friends.

“As soon as I get back, I’ll come and find you two,” she promised before leaving Lisa’s lab.

Linda

               She had scared the hell out of Eddie when she had arrived back at their apartment. He hadn’t been expecting her to be back from Keystone City for another two days, and thought she was an intruder. Linda had promised to explain it all to him in the morning before going to bed with him. They’d spend most of that morning together in bed before getting up to start the day.

               As they made breakfast, Linda decided that now was the time to tell Eddie about the events of the previous night. Her husband listened as she explained how she and Lily had been taken and woke up on a rooftop in Central City. She told him about Miranda Coburn and how Vandal Savage was still out there to become dictator of the world. That a group called the Time Masters had shot down Miranda’s plea and how Linda herself was destined to be some kind of legend in the future.

“Lily’s in,” she told him as they both sat down at the table. “And I am too. Not just because of Firestorm though. The future is in danger because of Savage. Miranda showed us projections of Midway, Fawcett, Star, and Central.”

Eddie set down his mug. “What’d they look like?”

“Destroyed,” Linda uttered, the image of crumbling buildings and red skies imprinted in her mind. “It looked like the aftermath of a war. I don’t want to let that happen if I can help prevent it.”

“Then don’t,” Eddie reached over to take her hand. “Don’t let Savage take over the world. Help stop him from becoming a dictator.”

Linda looked back at him. “Eddie…are you sure about me going?”

“You’re a superhero, babe,” he reminded her. “I knew who I was marrying. No matter how long it takes, I will wait for you.”

“I have no idea how long that’s going to be.”

“I don’t care,” Eddie told her. “Although preferably come back before I’m an old geezer.”

“Deal,” she giggled and shook her head. “What did I do to get you, Eddie Thawne?”

“I drank your latte. It was a complete accident, and I took you out to get a new one.”

               Linda grinned at the memory as she dug into her breakfast. She really was lucky to have met Eddie. Their relationship had gotten metahumans and time travel and everything in between thrown at it, but it still stood strong. Love kept them together.

As they cleaned up afterwards, Linda turned and kissed him. “You know, I’ve still got a bit of time left before I have to go time traveling. And I don’t know when I’m going to see you again…”

The smirk steadily creeping across Eddie’s face told her he knew exactly what she was thinking.

John and Lyla

               Instead of going back to Midway City, John and Lyla remained in Central City. It had come as a shock to learn their enemy had not been defeated, but set back momentarily. Their lives were still at risk whenever he was resurrected again. For a few months, they thought they had finally won after four thousand years of living and dying over and over. Miranda Coburn had shattered that victory with only a few words.

“So he’s still out there,” Lyla said as they entered a dinner in the morning. “We didn’t actually get rid of Savage.”

“And he’s apparently going to take over the world,” John shuddered as they sat down in one of the booths. “That’s the future for Earth.”

“She showed us a few cities in the future. Who knows how bad the rest of the world will be?”

John nodded as he picked up a menu. “Or how much of it will still be standing.”

               Lyla grimaced. A waitress came over to take their orders for drinks. Both asked for coffees and more time to look over the menus. John watched her go to another table where a family was seated before looking back to Lyla. Only a few hours and he was already suspicious of anyone who wasn’t Lyla.

“What do you think about Coburn’s offer to join her in stopping Savage for good?” he asked. “Do you want to join up with her?”

His soulmate glanced up from her menu. “Do you?”

John nodded. “I’m not even going to hesitate. Whether you decide to go or not, I definitely will be.”

“Johnny-”

“Lyla,” he looked around again to make certain no one was listening to them. “Chay-Ara. Hath-Set has been after us for two hundred and seven lifetimes. Two hundred and six were cut short by him. I love you. I want to live a full life with you. So yes, I’m in to make sure Savage is done for once and for all. Even if you don’t want to come, I will go after him still. I don’t care if I die as long as I take him with me so he never kills you again.”

Lyla raised her eyebrows. “You practice that?”

He shook his head as the waitress brought them their coffees and they placed their orders.

Lyla leaned forward. “I’ve been in since Miranda Coburn told us Savage was still alive. He needs to be stopped. And if you think I’d let you go after Savage alone, you’re crazy. You know you don’t have to protect me. I can handle myself. We take Savage together with Miranda and whoever else joins us.”

John smiled. “Guess we’re time-travelling then.”

Barry and Iris

“You’re insane.”

               Iris was baffled. First, they’d lost their loot getting kidnapped by a crazy British lady who wanted her and Barry to join her quest of do-gooders in stopping an evil dictator. As soon as she had left, the two of them had done the same after Barry told the others there that hero wasn’t and never would be on his resume. Now that they were back at their safe house, he was singing a different tune about how they should consider going.

“I’ve been thinking it over,” Barry shrugged. “I’m interested in it now. Think of what we could get out of it.”

“Heroism of saving the future?” Iris snarked. “Who cares? It’s not like either of us will still be alive by then to see it happen.”

“True,” he nodded. “But time travel, Iris. Think of the possibilities for us.”

               Her thoughts went straight to her family. Maybe if she went back, her dad wouldn’t have to die. Her mother and her brother would both have lived instead of dying in the hospital. Hell, Iris could even take out the robbers who’d killed Barry’s parents. But she had a feeling he wasn’t thinking of family though.

“Go on,” she said, flopping back into the old couch.

Barry grinned. “Think of all the lost treasures we could get our hands on. All the things we could steal, past or future.”

“And that’s why you want to go on this quest? To steal?”

“Exactly,” Barry agreed, a glint of excitement in his eyes.

Iris smiled. “You’ll need a partner for those heists, Bar.”

“And I think I’ve got one,” he replied as he sat down beside her. “Iris, if I’m going to steal throughout history, you’re the only person I’d want to do it with.”

She met his eyes, pushing down the warring emotions inside her. They weren’t like that. The two of them could ever be like that.

“Then I’m in,” Iris smirked. “You need someone to watch your back so you don’t get yourself killed.”

Barry clapped his hands and rose from the couch. “Excellent. Think we should let Cisco know of all of this?”

“As far as I know, he’s still in Europe,” Iris reminded him. “Leave him a message about this. We can bring him back a souvenir.”

               Barry grinned. For a moment, Iris saw the kid he’d been before his parents had been killed. The one who rambled on and on about history and science. What would life had been like for him if his parents survived, or if her dad had survived? Would they still be where they were now? Would they still know each other?

               The moment passed and Iris shook her head. She’d seen that life on that other Earth with perfect Iris who had everything. That life would never be an option for her. The life she had here, she was happy with. As soon as the mission ended, she and Barry could ditch the others with their spoils and continue life as if they’d never left.

Miranda

“I see you all came,” Miranda said from where she stood in front of the cloaked Waverider as her recruits arrived.

“That we did,” Helena Bertinelli told her, stepping forward. “Although some of us would have appreciated being returned to where we had been when you took us last night.”

Miranda dipped her head in apology.

“Okay, so how are we time traveling?” Barry Allen asked, earning everyone’s eyes on him. “What? No one else was wondering.”

“I’d like to know that too,” Caitlin Snow shrugged.

Miranda smiled “Imagine how difficult it would be for a twenty-second century timeship to blend in with 2017 Central City. Or ancient Troy. Or eighteenth century France? Naturally, a method of disguise is needed.”

She pressed the button on the remote she’d fabricated on the Waverider to uncover it. The faces of the people in front of her were too perfect as they got a look at the Waverider.

“Holographic cloaking,” Linda Park murmured in awe. “Oh, tell me this gets invented while I’m alive.”

Lyla Michaels was shaking her head slowly. “Four thousand years and I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“It’s called the Waverider,” Miranda told them proudly. “I’ve been in charge of it for over a decade. Wherever and whenever we need to go to stop Savage, this will take use there.”

“So where do we need to go first then?” Iris West inquired, tilting her head to the side.

She could easily tell them about Professor Connor Hawke now and how he was the only known researcher on Vandal Savage, but said information might be better to be revealed onboard the ship.

“Inside first,” Miranda suggested. “It’ll be easier to access what I need to tell you when we’re all on board.”

               Looks were exchanged around the group. Helena was the first to shrug her shoulders and follow after her, the others soon taking after her lead. Once all were inside, the door to the cargo bay closed. A few minutes later, the Waverider came to life and ascended into the sky with most of its occupants preparing for their first time jump.

               Just as the Waverider vanished into the clouds, an individual in futuristic armor and a large gun walked onto the scene. Their masked face tipped up to the sky to see the ship disappear. The person beneath the mask felt all the anger and bitterness hit them all over again. Soon, it would be sated.

Miranda Coburn would not succeed, and Chronos was determined to make sure of it.

[intrepidmare]

For anyone needing to prepare themselves for the angst of the flashbacks tonight, you could read this fic and getting used to the pain

I’m doing this as a service to the olicity fandom. I wrote this fic last year for @laurabelle2930 as her b-day gift, but today it gets a whole a new meaning, don’t you think?

You can read it in Ao3 or Wattpad too

BLAME THE VODKA

It had never been her intention when she left the loft in the middle of the night, but she was back to the bunker. It was where she felt safe, where she could function almost at normal capacity. Team Arrow secret headquarters kept her guilt and nightmares at bay. There, she could atone for what she had done. She could honored all those people who died because of the decision she made. It was the only thing that helped her to go through the day. Every day.

Felicity stepped in the bunker as the elevator door opened. It was almost completely dark except for the light coming from the elevator and the blinking little bulbs on her babies. The computers. Those inanimate objects that were her life. She always loved computers and coding, but now they were a safe line. They didn't judge her. They didn't look at her with pity or recrimination. They were the instrument with which she help to save the city.

There has been just enough light for her to make a beeline for her station. She sagged on to her chair. She was exhausted, and yet she couldn't sleep. Closing her eyes meant to let the memories of two months back into her mind. She dreamt over and over again the moment when she decided to alter the course of the nuke to Havenrock. She couldn't stop thinking about all those people who died. How their lives were cut short, because she failed to stop Damien Dahrk in launching all the nuclear bombs.

"What are you doing here? I thought you went home?"

Felicity shrieked and bolted up the chair, whirling around to find Oliver standing in the shadows. Her thumping heart jumped up to her throat, in part because of the fright, and in part because it was how always her heart reacted every time she saw Oliver. She could make many things happen, she could maintain herself firm in a decision she made to break up with him, but what she couldn't do was avoid how her body reacted to his nearness.

He was down by the conference table, and even so, his mere presence in the room was enough to make her want to run to him. She knew every inch of his body. Every imperfection and scar; she would never forget how his ripped muscles flexed beneath her exploring hands every time they made love. How those same strong muscles could hold her with a tenderness that she never knew before. How he devoted to her and made her feel cherished.

Until he lied to her.

They've been apart for months, but she still craved his touch. But that longing wasn't enough to make her forget his mistakes.

Sighing in defeat for something she wouldn't ever experience again, she said, "Oliver, I-- I'm sorry. Didn't know you were up here. I-- I thought you'd be asleep."

He went up to the computers station, where she could see his face with a little more clarity. Deep worried lines wrinkled his forehead. "Are you okay? Did something happen?"

As if it was nothing, she grabbed the back of her chair and put it as a barrier between them. She knew that look he was giving her, and the longing that came with it. He wanted to wrap her in his arms. He wanted to steal her pain away. He wanted to love her.

As much as she did for him to do that too, she couldn't allow it. She still loved him, but nothing had changed. She didn't trust him to protect her heart anymore. And honestly, she didn't trust herself with him, either. Beyond the fact that they weren't together anymore, she knew that the moment in which she let herself take comfort in his arms, she would fall apart in a million of pieces. If that happened, nothing and nobody would ever be able to put her back together again.

Fake it till you make it. That was her new motto.

If he noticed her tactic, Oliver didn't bring it up.

"No, nothing happened. Just wanted to check something. And you? Why are you here sitting in the dark?"

Respecting much less personal space than she would like --something that he seemed unable to help--, he walked closer to her and sit leaning on the table with his hands at each side of him. He looked as tired as she felt. "I can't sleep and I thought of having a drink."

As he spoke, a faint, but distinctive, scent of Vodka in his breath drifted to her nose. "By yourself?"

He shrugged, "It's not that we're many in the bunker lately."

"Right," it was just the two of them. Thea had hung up her suit, and John was deployed in Chechnya. Felicity was not hopeful for their return. She understood and respected the reasons why they had left the team. "You know, we could find others..."

"Felicity, we're not looking for anyone. Thea and John will come back. We need to give them time, that's all."

Felicity sighed. She knew Oliver wouldn't give up easy on that matter. He was still waiting for them to return. "Well, since I'm here, I could've a use for a shot of Vodka right now," she said before she knew her lips were moving.

"You would?"

What the hell not? It might help her to relax the enough to get some sleep. "Yeah, sure. I'll do it with you."

Saying those words and feeling heat, creeping up her neck and face, was one and the same. Why her brain insisted in making her to say those things? For once she would've loved to have a normal conversation without blurting innuendos at every turn. It was awkward enough to keep her relationship with Oliver in the platonic zone for her to say those kind of things. Worse was that he caught her. He didn't verbally acknowledge it and got his best poker face, but she could distinguish the amused glint in his blue eyes.

"The vodka. Drink the vodka, I mean, and not you and me... you know. Having sex. There won't be me having sex. Ever! Well, not never. Just not with you."

And she went from amusing to hurting him. That wasn't what she wanted.

Her instinct was to reach out to touch his arm, but she refrained herself from doing it. They didn't touch anymore. Not ever. There were no more light squeezes on the shoulders, no more comforting back rubs, no more light brushes that promised a bolder caress once they were alone. And she missed it. Before either of them contemplated the idea of being together, those touches were her favorite part of her day. Those were in many occasions what help her to get a rough day.

"Sorry, Oliver. I-- it was insensitive for me to say that. You know what? I better go. I--"

"Hey," he cut her off. "It's okay, Felicity. You don't have to go. Come, I think you really need that drink."

"I don't know..."

"Just one."

"Fine. Just one."

**************

One drink turned into many. Oliver watched Felicity scrunching her face and shaking her head as she gulped another shot... the fourth or the fifth? Seventh? He had lost count. Then, she fanned herself with her hand. Vodka was a little stronger than what she was used to, but Felicity didn't seem to want to stop.

"Another," she slid her glass on the table, toward the bottle.

"Are you sure?" he asked her. "You look a little..."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine," she coughed up. "Just feeling a little hot. Like something burning down inside of me. I mean... down my throat. Not that you are not hot, not that I'm feeling hot down there."

Oliver knew the exact moment when her brain caught up with her words, because she got even redder than what alcohol had gotten her. "Oh, frak, Oliver! Why my brain does this to me? Forget what I said, and serve me another."

He shouldn't. He really shouldn't let her drink anymore. She had glossy eyes and her moves were a little uncoordinated. And her speech slurred, too. She was a little drunk, and she should go home. And yet, he poured more Vodka in both of their glasses. He knew it was reckless and selfish, but he didn't want her to leave. Her company that night was the balm for his soul maladies. It was the first time in months that both were sharing a moment of true friendship. It wasn't all he was longing for, but it was a start.

Maybe it was the first step back toward each other.

He hoped so, because to see her every day and not touching her was one of the most difficult things he had to endure in his entire life. Taking in consideration the hell he lived in for five years, that was saying something. He was giving her the space she had asked of him. He tried to be mature and accept that things never would be the same, yet he knew he would be in love with her forever. Trying not to love her was tearing his heart, his soul, and his entire being apart.

Oblivious to his reverie, Felicity drank her vodka shot in one gulp, which caused her a bad coughing fit. Oliver didn't doubt it, and broke the self-imposed no-touching policy. He slapped her back a few times to help her breathe.

"Hey, you okay?" he cupped her face, once she caught some air.

The contact quickly turned from of out concern to something more primal, more carnal. The simple brush of his thumbs over her cheeks was enough to ignite the rooted electric sexual current that they always had between each other. Even in the beginning, when Oliver didn't even dare to dream that he could be with Felicity in that way.

Now, he could feel it every minute of every hour of every day. But he hadn't felt it that strong in quite a while. The starvation for touching her made the experience stronger and more bittersweet. He should let her go, but his fingers were glued to her soft skin. He thought she was going to pull away, but to his surprise, she didn't. Instead, Felicity closed her eyes and put one hand over his, and tilted her face to a side, seeking for more contact.

She gasped out his name, and that undid him. He heard in her voice the longing for him that was as strong as his for her, but he also heard the pain and disappointment in it. He wished he could find a way to erase the later. He had apologized a million of times; he had promised her, five times that, that he'd never lie to her again, but she hadn't forgiven him yet. He feared that she never would.

She opened her eyes and looked at him directly in the eyes. Oliver knew the exact second when she got to a decision, she gave him that determined gaze he knew so well. A moment later, it dawned on him what were her intentions with him. His lower lip tingled when she brushed it with her fingertips of her free hand.

"Make love to me, Oliver."

"Wha--" for much that he wanted to, he knew it wasn't the right moment. Neither of them was in their right mind. "Felicity, you don't know what you're asking. You're drunk. You're gonna regret this in the morning."

He knew she hadn't changed her mind about him. That wasn't make-up sex or anything like it, just a reckless booty call.

"I'm not!"

"Fe-li-ci-ty."

"Fine! Maybe I'm a little tipsy, but I know what I'm doing... I know what I want. And I want you, Oliver. I need you. Need you to help to forget. Please, just once. I just need to forget everything. At least for a night."

Oliver might be a little more clear-headed than her, but not for much. Her pleas, her sweet scent intoxicated him much more than an entire bottle of vodka did. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to find the will to refuse her, but he didn't find it. When it came to her, he was willing to do anything. There was nothing that he wouldn't do for her. He needed her, too. He opened his eyes again when he felt her hands fumbling with his belt. She undid the button of his pants and lowered the zip. That's the moment when he lost all reservations, he couldn't take it anymore.

Desire shot through him as she put her hand inside his boxers. He moaned and went hard instantly. It had passed too many months without feeling her erotic caresses. Her bold hand played with him, stroking him up and down. He couldn't rein back the passion within him and it took over him. He kissed her, taking her mouth for assault and surrendering himself to the need of loving her. His hands took life on their own, roaming all over her luscious body.

She left her seat and pushed him back against the back his chair. Wasting no time, she pulled his pants and boxers lower enough to free his hard on. Then, she kissed him again. Felicity climbed up the chair he was sitting on, without breaking the kiss. Bracing herself on his shoulders, she put her knees to each side of him and straddled him. She pulled away from his lips to trailed over his strong jaw, leaving a trail of scorching kisses and licks.

Her hot whisper tickled his ear, "Need you inside me, Oliver."

He slid the hem of her skirt up her thighs, and his hand found the way between her legs. The lace of her panties was hot and wet.

"Felicity..."

He tried to convey the depth of the feelings for her in those four syllables. Her name was a prayer, an apology, and a plea, all at once. It was a declaration of lust and love, that he didn't dare to say in more words. He didn't have those rights anymore.

"Not talking," she said, nipping his lips. Felicity swayed her hips, grinding herself against his fingers. "Oh..."

He tried to pull her underwear down, but the position in which they were made impossible. "Hips. Could you..."

Grabbing her hips, he urged her to raise herself up the enough to remove the annoying lace. Felicity didn't need much encouragement to kneel up and wiggle her hips a little, helping him to lower it down as much as possible. With no more barriers between them, Felicity gently took his thick, hard cock and aligned it with her core, before impaled herself onto it. She was hot and slick, her body accepting his length with ease. She rode him slow and deep. Oliver's entire body trembled from the pleasure of being inside her. With every thrust of her hips against his, he wanted to cry out from the agony of aching lust that possessed him.

Felicity always had taken charge in bed and this time wasn't different. She set the pace she wanted. Slow, but intense. He let her take what she needed from him. Desperate and hot, he trailed his mouth from her lips down to her throat, then to her shoulders. He pulled away the strap of her flimsy top off her shoulder and taste her delicate skin.

"Yes, oh yes," she murmured as he quickened his strokes. He heard her gasps of passion, which fed his own. He pushed his hips up, meeting halfway each of her strokes down, heightening the pleasure for both.

The fact that they hadn't taken their clothes off, made the experience more erotic and torrid. Somehow, it was dirty and forbidden.

Oliver thrust his hips up faster, knowing that Felicity was close to the edge. He could tell by her shortness of breath and in the way she was holding onto him. Those soft mewls she was making were the clearest sign that she was on the brink. For a moment, Oliver felt like she was resisting. She dug her nails on his back and she let out a soft wail. Perhaps, she was having second thoughts already. But, it was cruel to leave her like that. The least he could do was to give her a moment of bliss. A moment when pleasure was all that it mattered.

He trailed back from her shoulder to her neck, kissing and licking every inch and going for one of her most sensitive spots. "Let go, Felicity," he told her by her ear. "Let me hear you come undone."

When she cried out loud as pleasure rushed through her, Oliver didn't stop pushing his hips up, driving her orgasm on, and nearing himself to his own. His breathing ragged, as waves of pleasure spread out through all of him. He couldn't think anything except that he was with her. He leaned his head up and took her lips in a tender kiss as he delivered fierce, fast strokes to her. Hard, long, and deep. He wanted to last forever like that, her cradling his body. He wanted nothing but stay buried in her forever.

When his climax came, he grunted in bliss and agony. It had been perfect, and at the same time, it had been a nightmare. Now he had to let her go again.

Inevitably, he had to.

She leaned her forehead on his shoulder, and thanked him. Then, she pulled away from him, and lifted herself off him. He missed her at that same heartbeat. She was visibly uncomfortable as she put her clothes in order. With regret, he did the same.

"Felicity, we should talk about--"

"Oliver, no," she cut him off. "Let's not give to this more importance than necessary, okay? We're adults, and after all we've been through, I don't think explanations or excuses are needed. Blame the vodka, if you want to. I need to go."

He knew that it would happen, but it hurt to hear those words all the same. She walked away, with stumbling steps.

"Wait, Felicity. You're not in conditions to drive home."

She opened her mouth to rebuke, but closed it a second later. After a few seconds, she opened again to say, "I'll call a cab," and walked into the elevator.

Oliver wanted to run to her, wanted to stop her, but there was nothing he could do. As the elevator went up, his world fell into the shadows again, just like the rest of the bunker was.