#that session was just. me giving him the answers even for that piece of hardware

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

I sure have learned to say “I’m happy for him” in a tone that makes it clear I wish him the worst

[redrobin-detective]

Delayed Mourning

Going Angst Day 5: Death

_________________________________________

It was 3pm when there was a knock on Maddie Fenton’s door. She huffed and set down the meal she’d been working on. Of course the one day she had time to pre-plan a nice meal from her family was the day she’d get interrupted. 

“Yes? May I help you?” Maddie asked, opening the door. She had expected a salesman. Possibly even a neighbor coming to complain, again, about the noise or the smells that came from Fentonworks. Instead she found a small woman who couldn’t have been much taller than 5 ft with dark brown hair tied up in a tight bun. She was wearing a sharp white shirt and suit jacket with a matching white skirt.

“Mrs. Fenton, hello,” the woman gave a polite little head nod. “I’m from the the Government Institute of Interdimensional Warfare though I hear the locals like to call us the Guys in White.” She said with a knowing smiling, “of course, as you know, it’s not only the guys who are interested in ghosts. May I come in?”

“Oh yes, hello,” Maddie blinked, opening the door to let the agent in. The petite woman stepped inside, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor. Her small frame, her oversized glasses and soft nature seemed so at odds with the meatheads Maddie usually found in the GIW. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Perhaps,” the agent demurred. “It’s more there was something I wanted to inform you of. If you’re not too busy, may we sit down and talk? Your husband and children are not home.” Maddie thought that last statement was a bit odd, framed as a statement of fact rather than an inquiry but moved on. 

“Yes, Jack’s out of town visiting a relative and my kids won’t be back for a little while,” Maddie said. “Let me just finish putting this roast together, I’m almost done. Can I get you anything? Water? Tea?”

“No, thank you,” The woman said quietly. “And please, continue while you’re doing. Let me give you a little bit of background.” The agent adjusted her large glasses with her tiny hands. “Let me introduce myself, you may call me Agent S. I work primarily out of Washington for the Institute but sometimes I am deployed on site for... special cases. And, as I’m sure you’re aware, your town is very special.”

“Now, as you may have noticed, I am not particularly built like the normal Institute agents you have probably come across. That is because I do not work in the field but behind the scene in Investigations. My job is study the history and happenings of hauntings and spectral entities.”

“Oh that sounds fascinating,” Maddie beamed as she finished with her final preps and put the roast in the over. She looked over her shoulder at Agent S while she washed her hands. “Jack and I dabble a bit in history and folklore but we’re more versed in the hard sciences of ghosts.”

“Yes, I’ve read some of your papers, you and your husband truly are the frontrunners in the field,” Agent S nodded. Maddie preened at the praise and sat down, delighted to have a sophisticated conversation with someone in her field who she wasn’t married to. If more of those GIW agents were like Agent S then Maddie would get along a lot better with them. “So, Maddie, may I call you Maddie? What date and time did your portal start working?”

“It was August 28th,” Maddie said proudly. “It didn’t work at first when we first plugged it in. I’m afraid I don’t have an exact time it started up as we weren’t here. Jack was convinced one of the electrical conduction pieces wasn’t fully connected and was preventing ectoplasmic distribution. We ended up driving 4 hours to Springfield and back for some specialty parts only to find the portal working when we returned.”

“I can help you there,” Agent S said with a soft smile reaching into her white briefcase and pulling out several thick folders. She laid them out gently on the table and Maddie was unnerved by some of the information: schematics of Fentonworks, past and present financial records, transcripts of public statements. Her shoulders tensed when she saw Jazz and Danny’s names on some of the files. “Toll camera captured your vehicle on the Jane Addams Memorial Tollway at exactly 1:26pm on August 28th. We can confirm you and your husband’s vehicle traveled to Springfield and back via video feeds and credit card statements at 10:45pm that same day and were therefore out of the city all day.”

Maddie suddenly felt very trapped by the woman’s sharp grey eyes as she plucked a piece of paper and pressed it towards Maddie. 

“At 3:18pm, the majority of the residential power in town went out for a period of 2 and a half hours. The cause was determined to be from a massive power surge that blew out the transformer. You may recall being blamed for this outage given your history with previous outages but the news that you were out of town settled that argument. However, I was not convinced.” She pulled out another piece of paper and Maddie bristled to see it was a Casper High attendance sheet.

“Your daughter, Jasmine was at her final summer cram session which ran from 2pm until 5pm. I spoke to her tutors and she never left the whole time and, in fact, stayed late to help a fellow student work through her study materials. But what about your son?” Agent S asked with with a curious smile but her eyes belied the fact that she had her own answers. 

“How dare you spy on my family, on my children,” Maddie hissed, crumpling one of the papers in her fist. “Get out of my house, I will sue the pants off of your organization for this invasion of privacy! Get out!”

“Now Maddie, don’t you want to know how your son started up your Portal?” Agent S asked coyly, that drew Maddie up short. Danny? No, he couldn’t have possibly. He had no interest in their work, in fact, now that she thought about it, Danny had been sick that day. Agent S pulled out a set of blueprints for the Fenton Portal. Some small component inside the Portal was circled.

“You left at approximately 1pm and your daughter presumably left not long after. Phone records indicate Daniel called both Tucker Foley and Samantha Manson. Your neighbor, Mrs. Benson, saw them coming into your house not long after but before the 3pm power outage which I was able to triangulate did in fact originate from your home.” Agent S tapped the circled part of the inner portal mechanisms. “Now did you happen to push the on button in the Portal before plugging it in?”

“On button?” Maddie asked with a dry mouth, overwhelmed by the amount of information being thrown her way. All she could think about was how Danny hadn’t seemed sick when they’d left that afternoon but had looked awful when they returned. Would he have really gone downstairs and messed with the Portal? Had he gotten hurt? Been contaminated down there? Images of Vlad’s sickly visage after his accident flowed through her head. She should have paid more attention but she’d been so excited about the Portal working...

“It’s right here in the blueprints you submitted to the patent office, buried under dozens of other hardware bits. Its small, such a little thing compared to all the moving parts required to open up a dimensional portal. Daniel was a bright boy, his middle school records prove it. A bright mind, friends to impress, no parents around to chastise him... I think you can see where I’m going with this.”

“No, no,” Maddie said, burying her hands in her hair. “No, I’m not. You’re saying -what? - that my teenage son turned on the Portal when we were gone? No, my Danny wouldn’t lie to me about that... Why wouldn’t he say anything?”

“I don’t blame him for not mentioned in because, if my hunch is correct, he was inside the Portal when it turned on, killing him instantly,” Agent S said with a carefully neutral face. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news but I’m afraid this haunting has gone on long enough.”

“My child is alive!” Maddie screeched, standing up in her chair. “Danny is alive and healthy and he is not a ghost!”

“I will admit the evidence of how he died is circumstantial but the fact that Danny Fenton is deceased is not.” Maddie fell back into her chair as he legs gave out underneath her. 

She watched the agent put paper after paper in front of her and detailed all sorts of data about her son that Maddie, who lived in the same house as him, had missed. Unusually high ectosignatures picked up by GIW (and their own) detectors, Danny being spotted in some form before most ghost attacks, faked signatures of hers getting him out of nurses’ visits. Maddie barely felt alive herself as she stared at a red light camera photo of her baby sitting atop a light post late, late at night. His eyes were a toxic green color.

“I know this must be distressing as a mother but your child never left that basement, never attended high school and will never achieve his dream of working for NASA.” Agent S said with carefully measured sympathy as she gathered up her papers and put them back in her case. “But you are a brilliant scientist, unlike your husband, you should be able to look past your emotions and see that your child is gone and the ghost he left behind is dangerous.”

“My husband?” Maddie asked blankly, running a finger down Danny’s unnatural photograph.

“I approached Jack two days ago, mistakenly believing he would be the most understanding of you both. He refused to believe the evidence and was, in fact, going to warn your son’s ghost that we planned on taking him. He is safe but he presently being held at one of our facilities until the capture is complete.” Maddie should feel outraged at her husband’s kidnapping but all she could think about was the fact that her son was dead, dead, dead, killed by her own invention over a year ago and she never noticed. How could she not have noticed?

“Daniel’s ghost is extraordinary, not only able to pass as human so accurately for so long but immensely powerful. We need to make sure he doesn’t harm anyone else. Think of his friends who are probably being forced to aid him and keep his death quiet. Think of your husband, your daughter, living in the same house as a dangerous ghost.” Agent S dropped some of her professionalism and plucked the photo of Danny out of Maddie’s hands and replaced it with her own tiny hand. 

“I know this is impossible thing to ask but I must do it anyway, will you help me capture what remains of Danny? There is a chance with his charade exposed, he will be able to move on and so will you. You have been wronged, Maddie. You have been denied the right to process and grieve your child by his own ghost. But a delayed mourning is better than none. Danny’s death is a tragedy but please don’t let it become someone else’s.”

“Maybe he’s not-” Maddie’s breath hitched, “he’s never shown any signs of aggression. Jasmine spoke of benevolent spirits... maybe-” Agent S sighed roughly and retracted her hand to grab another photo from her case. Maddie was surprised when she held up a picture of Phantom. 

“Ignore the glow,” Agent S instructed. “Change his white hair to black, his green eyes to blue. Think of how often Phantom is spotted in your neighborhood, around Casper High. Remember how he always has his hands on your technology,” the agent frowned. “Think of how he grins when he sees you, like he knows something you don’t. Like it all just a big joke you’re not a part of.” Maddie felt like she’d been slapped.

“Your son is dead,” Agent S said more forcefully, throwing the picture of Phantom next to the spooky one of Danny. “And his ghost has taken his place, taunting you, stealing energy from your family, from the portal that killed him. Phantom’s power is increasing too rapidly and soon we won’t be able to contain him. It’s why I was brought in to identify his haunt so that he could be stopped before anyone else died.”

“I will state this plainly, I am giving you the chance to participate in putting your child to rest but you are not required for this operation. If you refuse, you will be confined with your husband until Phantom is taken down. Do not let this monster with your son’s face trick you any more. So I ask again, Maddie Fenton, will you help us stop Phantom from making a mockery of your son’s memory?”

XxX

“Mom! Jazz! I’m home!” Danny announced, kicking off his shoes and grabbing a paper out of his backpack as he walked into the kitchen with a grin. “And I have a present! Jazz’s tutoring paid off, look at this A I got on my history test! Well A- but a solid A-!” 

“Oh... that’s great,” Mom muttered quietly. She was sitting at the kitchen table, not cooking or tinkering with some gadget. Just sitting there quietly, twiddling her thumbs and not looking at him.

“Is everyone okay?” Danny asked, dropping his bag on the floor and walking over to his mother. “I saw Jazz at school but is Dad okay?”

“No, everything is not okay,” she said turning and looking at him with tear-filled eyes. “Someone died, someone I love dearly and I’m not ready to let them go,” she sniffed and wiped at her eyes. “But they've been gone for a long time, even if I’m just hearing about it now. I’m upset but it’s better to know and be grieve than to go on in ignorance, living a lie.”

Danny was about to ask who had died when something was jammed into his neck and he was shocked within an inch of his half life. His body spasmed to escape but his mother was gripping his arm to hold him in place. He transformed unconsciously but that only made it worse. He fell to the floor, ectoplasm leaking off his form as he could barely hold himself together.

“Mom,” he croaked, reaching for her despite everything. She stomped on his hand which was practically goo from such a vicious, destabilizing ectoplasmic shock.

“Don’t you ever call me that,” she hissed through angry tears. “I didn’t want to believe it but the proof is right in front of me you horrible, selfish ghost.” She kicked him in the side and half of him ended up on her boot. “How dare you, how dare you impersonate my son! How dare you string me along all this time, make me look like a fool who had to told that her own child was dead! I bet you just laughed and laughed at our stupid, human ignorance of what your were!”

“‘lease,” he begged through the ectoplasm in his mouth. “I’m still your....”

“My son is dead and he has been for a while,” Mom said, throwing the ecto-taser away from her. Danny vaguely heard the door being kicked in and in his rapidly diminishing vision, he saw black boots and white suits. “With you gone, I can finally come to terms with it and not be tormented by an inadequate replacement.” She turned her back to him. “Get that filth out of my house, I never want to see it again.”

“Of course,” a quiet feminine voice said as his goopy arms were restrained with ghost proof cuffs. “I know this is hard, Maddie but you made the right choice for your family and Danny’s memory. Jack will returned to you within the hour. I spoke to my superiors, for your cooperation, the Institute will take care of declaring Danny dead as well as covering costs for your boy to be laid to rest, the first step in moving on.”

“No, the first step will be removing that duplicitous monster from my home. It’s stolen enough of my baby’s life. Now please leave, I have - I have a funeral to plan.”

[xxxrubytuesdayxxx]

If you turn Jimin down...

Word Count: 1,022

Credit: My ex-flatmate also wrote the majority of this section during another of our late-night, cross-continental writing sessions.

Disclaimers: This is part (50) of a Choose Your Own Ending!

Start here:

“Not helping  Jimin,” you tell him softly. He looks a little disappointed, but shrugs his acquiescence and sinks back into his chair. 

“I wouldn’t even worry about it anyway, noona,” he comments. “They don’t seem too keen on us being in those variety shows these days so Hitman Bang is probably just trying to be diplomatic. Everyone knows JK is too young and flighty to make a convincing reality-show husband. That’s probably why he’s offering him as tribute. You know - seem willing, but offer something that he knows won’t work out.” His eyes sparkle with mischief, and you wonder, not for the first time, why people don’t realise there’s a lot more going on in Jimin’s head than he’s given credit for. It’s how he gets away with that innocent demeanor whilst making jokes that would make a whore blush once the cameras stop rolling.

Turns out he’s right and Hitman Bang gets to keep the tv producers on side whilst making sure that his golden goose BTS is kept free to produce their own content and before you know it they’ve got a whole new schedule lined up and Jeongguk is sneaking into your room on a regular basis whilst Joon faithfully turns a blind eye, even if just to keep the peace.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I need shelves,” Namjoon announces.

It’s Sunday night at the Bangtan household, and having spent the entire weekend filming the next few Run BTS episodes, the boys decide to stay in. All the heads in the living room turn to look at the source of the voice, standing in the entryway, holding a KAWS figure in each hand.

“Get one of the runners to handle it,” Yoongi suggests with a shrug, going back to his laptop. “We have too much to do this week.”

“It’s better to build it yourself,” Tae says, “have that sense of accomplishment, you know?”

“Sure,” Yoongi replies without looking up.

“Hyung,” Jeongguk pipes up, “I’ll help you look for a toolbox.”

“We have a toolbox?” Jimin asks curiously.

“Yah, there are seven able-bodied men in this apartment,” Jin answers confidently, getting up to help the search, “I’m sure one of us has a toolbox.”

About 20 minutes later, shoulders slumped and with a heavy sigh, Jin concludes rather defeatedly, “None of us have a toolbox.”

You all decide to go out the next day and make a trip out of it. You, Namjoon and Jeongguk will head to IKEA; Jin, Hobi, Tae and Jimin will be putting together and buying a toolbox at a nearby hardware store. Yoongi opts to stay in and hold the fort in case any unexpected assignments turn up. Both of your groups have two bodyguards assigned to them, dressed as civilians - making you look like just another group of friends running errands on a regular Monday.

Making your way through the familiar IKEA maze, the three of you stop often in the room displays and wait for Namjoon as he looks around. You quietly watch as Jeongguk weaves through the furniture in these rooms, picking the smaller things up and inspecting them before putting them back down, knocking on the wooden tables to get a feel for them. He’s quiet and contemplative, but he’ll smile warmly at you every time your eyes meet.

“Are you looking for something in particular?” you ask him, taking a seat on one of the couches. He moves away from the table lamp he was looking at and flops down next to you.

“Hm, not really,” he says, “just thinking.”

“About your new place?” you ask, referring to the multi-billion-won apartment he bought just a month ago.

“Yeah, I haven’t furnished it,” he laughs awkwardly. “I was thinking maybe it’s about time.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” you say to him, “you live in the dorm anyway.” A part of you assumes it will be easier for you guys to have privacy if he spends more time at his new place, but the other part of you worries that since you live in the dorm, the situation might turn out just the opposite.

“Will you help?” he asks quietly, “look at things with me?” Your heart softens at his request. “Since I don’t know room dimensions yet, maybe we can just look at things I might need,” he says with a shrug.

“Your apartment is empty, you’re going to need literally everything,” you laugh gently.

He laughs as well, “I know, noona! I mean, help me with where to start.”

“Kitchen,” you say determinedly, getting on your feet, “let’s go.” He springs up and gives you that cute smile you love, at the same time towering over you.

The two of you spend the rest of the afternoon hypothetically decorating Jeongguk’s apartment. He walks up to a mock kitchen and tells you he likes it, asks you what you think. You try not to visibly melt when he suggests a custom wardrobe with some extra few drawers - for you. You tell him you like the idea of a series of rugs in the living room; he reminds you that neither of you enjoy vacuuming very much. You suggest a few couches, and the two of you proceed to test each one. You debate on lamps, white vs yellow.

The three of you - with the bodyguards lingering a few feet away - end up at the queue to pay with a trolley of Namjoon’s flat-packed shelves and a few odd bits in hand. Along the way Jeongguk has grabbed photo frames for Yoongi, empty food containers for Jin and a watering can for Taehyung. In his pocket sits a piece of paper with Swedish furniture names scribbled haphazardly onto it, in your handwriting. Standing in line at check-out, you think back to the several moments in the day where he had included and considered you in his future living situation, and watching him talk to Namjoon excitedly about blinds vs curtains, you feel your heart warm. You could get used to this. Maybe it’s finally time to ask Big Hit if there’s any chance you and he can date, if you both keep things discreet.

If you tell Big Hit that you and Jeongguk have feelings for each other If you keep it on the q.t.

[kaylathekittykat225]

The Pain of Friendship // Wally West x Reader

Warning/s: Sadness, death, parental abuse

Word Count: 4,875

Hope you all are having a better week then I am. Having a rough patch but it’s not fiiiiiine.

Here’s my Masterlist.

Enjoy.

—–

"Best friend!" The familiar and loud voice of Wally West screamed in your ear as you felt someone pull you out of the computer chair you were seated in and spun you around. "We did it! We won! Savage and Witch Boy are gone!"

"I know! You guys did it!" You giggled at his antics and excitement as you wrapped your arms wrapped around your best friend's neck; truthfully you were just happy that he was still alive.

Placing you down on the ground, he sent you an obvious glare, crossing his arms over his chest and hit hip out like his mom usually did when he did something he wasn't supposed to. But Wally West wasn't his mother. "Hey, you helped too. You were our computer girl, you locked all of the rogue JL members in the basement thing."

Nodding, you agreed with him. "Well then, I suppose I did help you." You chuckled again as you watched him triumphantly fist pump the air and proceeded to run off into another room, still screaming about how you guys had won the battle against the group Savage led.

Shaking your head, you sat back down in front of the computer in the main room of the Watch Tower, going back to clearing the system of whatever Klarion sent into the computer to jam everything.

Going back and forth between the settings and the internet, you hit a stump on how to clear the main frame of the computer. You may have been the Tech Wiz, as the team so kindly dubbed to be your super name, but really, magic infecting the hardware as well as the software of a computer was way out of your league.

"Happy New Year! Go screw yourself 2011!" Wally's voice once again rang through the compound and you smiled happily to yourself, still so thankful to have him for your best friend. Opening the security cameras, you waited for it to track Wally's position and show you what the often idiot of a genius was doing.

While flipping through the multitude of channels on the security feed, you thought about how much your life has changed because of Wally. Before Wally you never would have found a best friend, or even a friend at all. Heck without him, you might not even be alive.

When you we younger, your mom often spoke with her fist rather than with her mouth, the heavy alcohol in her system wasn't helping either. She's just having a bad day, she didn't mean it, she still loves you. Every day you told yourself this, hoping your words would come true one day.

Things only went south for you before they got better. You instinctively knew to wear your way too big of a long sleeve T-shirt your mom grabbed your arm, put on pants when she kicked your leg, put on that itchy turtleneck when she scratched your neck. You always knew how to make sure no one knew you were in pain.

But then again, no one asked. No one asked why you always had a limp, always wore grungy and dirty clothes, no one would ask why you would have to run to and from school every day. No one asked if you were okay. They all just assumed that you were okay.

No one asked until your mom came charging into your 3rd grade classroom and demanding to know why you weren't buying the groceries. She didn't let you speak as she struck you across the face with a loud slap before she grabbed your arm and wrenched you out of the classroom.

Everyone stood in shock until a red headed boy from the grade above you stopped your mom and asked if you could play at his house after school. Both you and your mother were shocked by the question, you because someone approached your mother and your mother because you had a friend who wanted to take your time away from dealing with her.

The police arrived before she could do anything to you or the red headed boy you had never really talked to before. Teachers questioned how they never saw the signs, counselors offered their best advice, numerous gifts and condolences were sent to you. But still, no one asked if you were okay.

"So how was your week, Y/N?" Mrs. Thornberry asked with a gentle smile on her face, but you never saw the smile; you kept your eyes cast down to the floor while your quiet ten-year-old self kept your hands pressed underneath your knees. Even after a year and a half of talking to the counselor your school assigned you, you were nowhere closer to being comfortable talking to her than you were the first day you arrived.

"Good." Same old answer you give every week. Nothing changed since last week, no new emotions or melt downs, but you would never tell her, why do you have to?

"Okay," her pen scratched against the paper on her clipboard. "Well how about your cousins, how are they treating you?"

"They're too nice," You whimper before you clamped your mouth tightly shot after you spoke, hoping she didn't hear you. You continue to watch your swinging legs swirl in gentle circles in hopes that she wouldn't ask you any further about what you meant.

"And what do you mean they are being too nice?"

Sighing, you felt as though you could at least say this out loud. "Tammy and Martha treat me like a...a...a piece of tissue paper, like I'm going to rip if they tug too hard. Their mommy has to make them play with me, but they always whisper about how they don't want to hurt me. I don't wanna be the girl with the mean mommy, I just wanna be a normal kid." You finished talking and heard her writing again on her clipboard, and you knew, that she wasn't hearing you, Mrs. Thornberry was only listening to the noise of your voice.

"And how does this make you feel, sweetie?" When her eyes looked up at you, you turned away and back to watching your feet make figure eights in the air. This is why you didn't talk during your hour-long sessions, even if it made things awkward for the both of you. You didn't want anyone to know how you feel because they didn't care how you feel, what was on your mind, they just listened to the words, but never heard them.

For the last fifteen minutes of your session you kept your mouth shut, ignoring any of the questions she asked you, whether you made friends, how were your drawing skills, were you eating normally yet and so on. "Well, Y/N, I think it's time-"

"Oh Mrs. T! You are three minutes late! Did you forget about your favorite student?" The heavy door swung open and a grinning red headed boy stood in the doorway. The grin slipped away however when he saw the two of you starring at him. "O-oh, I'm so sorry, I'll, I'll go sit back in the lobby. I'm sorry." And with that, the door was closed again and the two of you were left in silence.

"As I was saying, Y/N, it is time for you to go home. So, let's take you back out to your aunt." You stood up and waited for her to open the door for you and you followed her out the door, seeing your aunt sitting in the waiting room with her purse held tightly to her chest. And across from her, hiding behind the fake plant was the red-haired boy from before.

"How was she today?" Your aunt smiled at you while she began talking with Mrs. Thornberry about what wasn't confidential about your progress.

You looked over and saw the young boy staring at you from behind the branch he hid behind. Mustering up an unknown courage, you crept towards him slowly while he stepped out from his hiding spot behind the tree, looking at his shoes bashfully when you finally stood in front of him. "Sorry about running in the room like that, it was mean."

"It's okay," You whispered back, sucking your lip between your teeth as you questioned whether this was a good idea or not. "I really like your shirt." Pointing at the yellow lightning bolt on his shirt, you watched as his smile grew on his face.

"Thanks! Flash is my all-time favorite Justice Team superhero!" HE jumped up and down giddily. "Who's your favorite superhero? Do you like Flash, too?"

"I actually really like Superman; he can fly places." Your answer was meek and quiet as you traced the tip of your shoe in the carpeted flooring and watching the fibers move with your shoe.

"Yeah, that's cool. But Flash can run on the water!"

"But Superman can look through...through mountains! And he can pick up cities!" Your voice rose with excitement, not even noticing that this conversation really was going on for much longer than anyone was ever willing to talk to you in a long time.

"That's not true! He can't really do that." The kid crossed his arms and glared at you while he thought if it really was possible.

"Uh-huh, Kent Clark in the newspaper my aunt reads says so! And he knows a lot!"

"But how does he-"

"Wally dear, it's time for your session." Mrs. Thornberry's voice got quiet when she saw the two of you talking, both sets of wide eyes staring back at her almost sad like. "Oh...oh my gosh." Your aunt and her exchanged a look the two of you didn't see as you bid each other farewell, Wally promising that you would talk more about the Justice League superheroes next week.

And you two did. As the weeks passed towards the end of the school year, you saw Wally after every session with your therapist, he was talk about superheroes or how the sun would one day eat the Earth or how he thinks there's an alien living in his bathroom.

Now you walked over to the table Wally was sitting at during the lunch period fourth and fifth graders shared with each other. "Hi," Almost at a whisper, you were surprised he looked up at the sound of your quiet chirp. "Can-can I sit with you? Eat lunch I mean?" As with every time you got nervous, you sucked your lower lip between your teeth as you watched his eyes widen in surprise at your question.

"Y/N, yeah! Yeah you can sit with me!" He moved his lunch tray away from the seat across from him, allowing you to sit down and place your own food on the table. "Oh! You have a Superman sweater!"

Looking down, you yourself confirmed that you were wearing the blue Superman sweater you found in a thrift store. "Well he is my favorite superhero," You told him, smiling as he grinned happily at you. "I have a secret." Leaning forward, you lowered your voice and watched him lean closer to you in anticipation. "I'm actually Superman."

He threw his head back in laughter, the sandwich he held in his hand forgotten. "Well if you're Superman, that means I'm the Flash."

"Then we can fight the bad guys together!" You both giggled as you began eating your food, the sandwich Wally had was gone in a mouthful and he turned to the pile of green broccoli, shoving a bunch of the small trees in his mouth, promptly spitting them back out. "Not liking the broccoli?"

"It's really salty today." Wally grabbed his water and chugged it, gargled it and chugged it again. "Actually, all broccoli tastes bad."

"Not if you put a bunch of cheese on it, then you can't taste the greenness. My mom used to put it on my..." You quieted and down felt a pit in your stomach. "Never mind."

"It's okay, I get it, my daddy likes to hit me with his belt when he gets angry. He's angry a lot. And that's why my mom makes me talk to Mrs. Thornberry." You looked at him and instead of looking at him with pity like everyone else would, you saw Wally and that he really didn't want to eat his broccoli but was hungrily eyeing your candy bar you had.

"Hey, Wally." He hummed and looked up at you, his eyes meeting yours and seeing that you didn't want to apologize for him. "Do you wanna be best friends?" You quickly pursed your lips as you waited for an answer.

"Really?!" He jumped up and down in his seat and grinned like a wild man. "You really mean it? I've never had a best friend before!" And with that, he loudly gasped. "Wait! We both have a mean mom and dad; can we be mean moms and dads’ best friends?"

"I like that, we should be best friends forever!"

Honestly best friend’s forever was an understatement; for the past five years you've been there for him. Ever since his dad finally got help and stopped hitting Wally and his mom, you were there for him.

You were there when Wally had his stupid science fair accident, he didn't listen to or believe you when you told him to step back, but everything still happened. He was shot with the lightning and suddenly he was down.

There you were when Wally was being wheeled away from his home in the ambulance, sobbing and crying for him to stay alive after his stupid lightning rendering machine exploded.

And you sure as hell were there when he woke up to slap him with his medical charts when he joked with you to about how smoking hot, he was.

But you stayed. And you happily stayed with him when he finally got the attention of the Flash and became his side kick. And while he did that, you became the girl on the headset, just like in those police shows, telling them what to do and who was doing what.

Wally even had the perfect name, dubbing you the Tech Wizard. And hell were you one, being able to keep up with Robin by taking down his firewalls and decrypting some of his unimportant files just to scare him. You got his attention and respect right away with that move, proving that you didn't need to have a superpower to be super awesome in the field.

The supercomputer in front of you pinged loudly, flashing as it announced the beginning of the new year, pinging an alert to comes up on the screen. Smiling, you heard the cheers of everyone and pulled up the security feed for the main room just over from where you were. Everyone was celebrating in the taboo sort of way, everyone paired off.

There was Robin finally with Zatana, something you knew both sides wanted.

Rocket and Aqualad were both flushing as Rocket stepped away from pressing an innocent kiss to his cheek.

Conner and M'gann were smiling and happily staring at each other from their still new relationship.

But when you found Wally, your throat shut tightly around itself as you watched him remain lip locked with Artemis. Every experience with her ran through your head.

"Ah, human traditions will forever evade me." Red Tornado stepped behind you, but you couldn't even laugh at the poor joke he made.

I mean, they were perfect for each other; they fought like an old married couple and were always worried about each other.

She was your second-best friend. And she had every right to date him if she really likes him.

So why shouldn't your girl best friend date your guy best friend?

Well it kinda hurts when you see her kissing the boy you've liked since you were eight.

<<<7 Years Later>>>

"Hey TW, how's the new visor acoming? Aw they're totally gonna be crash aren't they!" Bart buzzed around you like an excited bumblebee who found the perfect flower.

You sighed at his excitement. "Barty, Bart, you need to be patient, I'm almost done, go bug Blue Beetle or something."

"Oh, oh! Bug the bug! That is totally crash! BB! Where are you?" And he was gone in a flash.

Sighing, you leaned back in your chair, stretching your back and groaning when you heard the multiple pops as you looked around your techie shop.

Ever since Wally's death a year ago you had changed from being just the Computer Wiz to be a full-time techie one. Using an old microwave and a TV you practiced on how to upgrade gear and even build gear for the team.

Turning on the music, you muttered how you knew this would be a long night, knowing you couldn't properly sleep right now and had to have music to distract you. "This was your guys favorite song." Not even a minute in and someone was there to distract you again. Looking over your shoulder, you looked to the doorway. "You both always used to dance to it when he came back from missions."

Artemis stood in the doorway of your shop; her face free of her tigress mask but the tight uniform still clung to her body. "Artemis, what are you doing here so late?"

She smiled at you before shifting her gaze to the floor. "I should ask the same thing, Y/N." She sighed sadly, opening her mouth as to speak, but quickly shut her mouth.

"Artemis, what's wrong, girlie?" Putting the goggles down, you turned around and pressed the small button under your foot, closing the door behind Artemis as well as shutting off recordings and camera operations. "You know I can make things soundproof, so no one will get in here."

Nodding, she rolled a chair out from your other desk and took a seat across from you. "I miss him. So much, Y/N." She began moving her chair back and forth with the toe of her boot. "I thought...I thought after talking with Canary, and giving it time, and finally getting myself back out there would be enough. I can finally sleep again, Y/N. I moved out of our apartment and moved into a house. And...Y/N, I think I finally met someone."

You grinned and chuckled at her, "Artemis that's great! I'm so happy of you."

"But Y/N, I...I feel like I'm betraying the memories I had of him, I feel like I am burying him and trying to forget him." The blonde tiger hastily rubbed her eyes and wiped the tears away; you pulled yourself towards her and gently squeezed her knee.

"Artemis, I swear to you, you aren't forgetting him. We have the grotto for a reason, to remember him and everyone who fell. But think about Wally. He wouldn't want you moping around, like he probably would be mad you found someone apparently hotter than he was, but Wally would want you to be happy.

Artemis moved her hand to grab yours and squeeze your hand back. "I know, I...I just don't miss him anymore. Wait I said that wrong, I don't miss him any more like I don't think about him when I wake up or go to bed. I found Charlie and I'm happy. I'm happy again, Y/N."

"So be happy, Artemis!"

Smiling, your best friend stood up and pulled you with her, hugging you tightly. "Thank you, Y/N, for everything."

Humming you squeezed her shoulder, "Now about this Charlie, I will need his last name and I need to check his background history."

The two of you broke into giggles before she confirmed you were the best thing to happen to her and she pulled you away from your works station. "Come on, Y/N, if I don't physically pull you away from this place, you'll be here all night without even realizing."

"But I have work to do. Bart's goggles, and then the new chip systems and your new-" Artemis was stronger and more resilient than you were and pulled you from your chair.

"Y/N, come on, you need to get out of this cramped workspace for a solid week now! You need to get out!!

I felt my stomach cringe when I remembered why I has been hiding in my little makeshift office, "Yeah, Arti, but I-"

"No buts, Y/N. You are going home, and I will lock you in that house if I have to." Before you could say one more complaint to let her leave you alone, she shoved you through the Zeta Tube and you were transported to the old phone booth across the street from a park.

Grumbling to yourself, you ran your tense hands over your jean covered thighs and stared at the playground across the way. Old memories pulled themselves out of the farthest places of your mind; Wally and you always loved to come to this park, as you got older, you spent a lot of your evenings here because let's be honest, you loved playing at the park, but the parents of little kids thought you were murders looking for their next prey.

June 20th.

Your phone chirped at the new day, happy to share that the beginning of the second year without your best friend had begun. Sighing in defeat, you wandered over to the swing set and sat down on the U-shaped plastic seat, already knowing that your hips would be sore in ten minutes complain and asking for you to move. Pushing your weight back and forth with your toes, you stared at the wood pellet covered ground and let your mind for the first time in days.

Truth was, you were hiding in your workshop, trying as hard as you could to stay away from everyone as this day came closer. You may have been tense with Wally after he and Artemis began their relationship, but he was always your first and bestest of friends. Your best memories were with that silly ginger.

But your saddest memories also revolved around him.

When he and Artemis began dating was like a sword directly to your soul.

When he moved away from you in with Artemis to pursue his college life, almost a thousand miles away from you.

When he had left the team.

When he was lost to the time vortex.

Your tears you were waiting to get too heavy for you to hold finally fell down your face and you let your body shake on the now still swing; your hands went to hide you face and you let your yearly memories of your best friend wash over you.

This is why you didn't want to be alone today. You wanted to be busy in your workshop, so you didn't have to hear the alarm for the beginning of the new day. You knew you would be alone with your tears and your happiest and saddest memories and no one to console you out of your state.

"And I thought everyone had forgotten about me." A quiet voice whispered next to you. Looking up quickly from your hands, you looked over to the next swing and couldn't believe what you wanted to curse whatever supervillain was out to get you this time.

"No, not again." Your voice squeaked out as you stood up and walked away, reminding yourself what your Psychologist had told you to do when you saw him again. "You're not here. This is just another one of my illusions. You'll go away." Looking back, you were surprised to see his green eyes looking so lively yet so sad and so real as they stared at you.

He stood up and took a few tentative steps towards you, his arm slowly listing towards you with every step. "Y/N/N, it's me." His hand gently touched your wet cheek, wiping the last of your tears away, sending a shock through you at how real this one felt.

He looked into your confused and shocked eyes and knew you still didn't believe him. He had been allowed to see parts of your lift after he left. He knew your mind for months played tricks on you and you were in denial when he died the hardest. He also found out... "Remember when we went to that fair a couple years ago? Right before we started YJ? And the Ferris Wheel?"

Your eyes remained the size of dinner plates as you nodded, his hand remained where it was, his thumb caressing your cheek as your tears still spilled out. "You know you really need to tell a person you're afraid of heights before you go up and get stuck on top." He chuckled, his green eyes squinting and showing you what would later become his laugh lines near his eyes.

"Wally." You let go the breath you were holding since he showed up, a sob running past your lips.

"Hey, Y/N. It's me." He smiled before you threw your arms around his neck, your feet leaving the ground as he wrapped his arms around your waist, the ginger hiding his face in the crook of your neck as he finally let the tears he had been hiding fall.

Muffled from his shoulder, you didn't let him go as you breathed in the smell of him from his jacket. "How? You were dead."

"I suppose neither side wanted me, so they kicked me back." You let out a sad laugh and squeezed him tighter, not yet believing that he was home again. "Whatever the Light had set up transported me to some weird time zone. I felt every second that passed as slow as you did, but...I had to watch everyone. I saw everything I never thought I'd see. I watched my own funeral, everyone crying. I watched my mom and dad fall apart and I couldn't do anything about it. I watched the team move on without me. Artemis finally moved on, she found her perfect guy. But...the saddest part was watching you, Y/N, you never moved on. You were the one who always visited my grave. I could barely count how many times you cried over me." His arms went tighter around you as you felt more tears slip past your eyes, you own shoulder getting damper as his own tears fell.

"How could I when my superhero had died and left me alone to fight this world alone?" You looked at him and finally looked at him. He did look older, but in the best ways. But his eyes. They still glittered like they used to, but you knew they had seen too much now as he saw his team and entire family break over his death.

"Why didn't you ever tell me, Y/N?" You turned away when he asked, you just knew he would have to ask that question, if he really did watch you all this time, you knew he now knew.

"Because you were perfect for each other. You fought like a married couple and loved each other like star crossed lovers. Why would you love your broken best friend who used you as emotional support when her mom beat her?"

His eyes stayed fixed on you, "Because I love my mean mom and dad best friend." Hs voice a low and quiet whisper, your head shooting up to stare at him. "You've been the best thing in my life ever since I saw you in the first grade when you were new to my school. I just...I was the funny one who hid his pain away and thought he needed to have a girl who didn't know what happened to me to forget what happened with my dad and who wouldn't look at me like a kicked puppy. But, Y/N, what I needed was you. Someone who understood my pain when someone shouted too loud or who flinched when someone reached for their belt. You were the only one who understood me to that deeper level, and I didn't know why Artemis and I didn't work until it was too late, and you were already not interested in me anymore."

"You idiot," You whispered before reaching up and quickly pressed a short kiss to his lips. Nothing more than a few seconds, but the kiss you had almost dreamed about for years now. Pulling your eyes opened, you looked into his surprised green ones and smiled. "I loved you from the day you saved me from my mom."

Wally pulled you into a tight hug and spun you around, bring laughter out of the both of you. "I love you, so much, Y/N."

"I love you, too, Wally." You whispered back before you felt your feet touch the ground. "Wanna play on the playground?" You smiled up at him and watched his grow as well.

"Well duh."

"Tag your it!" You yelled, slapping him on the arm and took off running for the slides, your laughter filling the night as you shouted at him not to cheat with his speed and him complaining that he needed to stretch his legs.

But the both of you knew that things were better now, because your best friend was home, and wherever Wally was, that was your home.

[hecallsmehischild]

IZ Fanfic - Hey Spacejerk - Bonus

Surprise! So these fragments are not part of the story. However it took me a few tries to get the last chapter the way I wanted, and I wanted to put those efforts somewhere. While they didn’t fit exactly right, I really liked certain aspects of them. So consider them bonus snippets. No, there will not be more about them. They are just failed attempts at the final chapter of Hey Spacejerk.

Attempt #1: Child vampire stakeout

The hall light flickered as Dib kicked at the ratty brown carpet runner. Someone had drunk staple-gunned it in place so it sported several trip-hazard folds sticking up to catch unsuspecting shufflers. Though the competing stereos and crying babies might cover up an approach on floorboards that cracked like gunshots, it wasn’t good to take those kind of chances. A painful encounter with a Jersey devil had taught him that paranormal creatures living in plain sight often knew when they were being hunted and took detailed inventory of their home-base’s typical sensory input. They rarely missed subtle changes like, say, an unfamiliar set of footsteps. With that in mind, Zim had been sent up the side of the crumbly apartment building to watch for the target’s departure and signal an all-clear.

He lifted his hand up to his nose, his finger hovering just over the bridge of his glasses. Pushing his glasses up would send a cricket chirp to Zim, an unobtrusive check-in that wouldn’t compromise his position. A tap to the right glasses arm would open two way communication. A tap to the left glasses arm would send audio without receiving any. The new setup had drastically reduced their blunders in the last few months.

If Zim didn’t chirp the all-clear signal in ninety seconds, Dib decided, he’d chirp to see if things were still okay.

Of course things were fine. He scolded himself, jamming his hands in the pockets of his signature floor-length black trenchcoat. Zim would have alerted him if he’d run into anything he couldn’t handle. There had been that one situation with the fae… but they weren’t inspecting a mushroom ring this time. Zim would be fine.

There. Two quick chirps through the receiver in his glasses frame. All clear. Dib strode down the hall, giving a wide berth to the radiator that smelled like something had died underneath and took the stairs two at a time. Questionable-looking brown smears covered long stretches of the wall and the air was thick with the smell of marijuana. Up. Up. Up to the seventh floor and down the hall, passing doors with numbers crooked, upside down, or just missing.

Apartment 704 had the same tired red paint that every other door had, but none of the peeling paint or mold spots. Strips were missing, but the surface had been sanded smooth, and there wasn’t a sign of mud or stains. The door was already ajar. Cautious, Dib tapped the bridge of his glasses once, double checking with Zim.

Two fast chirps back and Dib entered, shutting the door behind him. Under his feet was a worn but clean little rainbow doormat. The walls, though beige, fairly gleamed. The threadbare carpeting was flush with the floor. Dib ran a gloved hand along the counter and pulled it back dust-free.

“Doubtful I could find any germs, even with microgoggles,” Zim marveled, poking his head into the fridge and freezer. “Nothing here. Empty refrigerator. Cleaning supplies in the cupboard, but no food.”

Dib glanced at a small bookshelf crammed with raggedy paperbacks. He pulled one out at random. “The Selection. Kiera Cass.” He stuck his tongue out. “Cover tells me it’s a princessy love triangle.” He slid it back in its place.

Zim grabbed it back off the shelf, inspecting it. “Love triangle. Terminology to describe a recurring concept in various mediums of storytelling where creature number one cannot decide whether to mate with creature number two or creature number three. Sometimes creature number two and creature three want to mate with each other, and creature number one is furious. But how can you tell just by looking at the picture on front?”

Dib shrugged. “Eh, publishers tend to put very similar visual cues on books that emphasize a particular ‘recurring concept’ in their storytelling.”

Zim inspected the book, thumbing through a few pages. “Note to PAK, begin database of published book covers for cross referencing.”

“I’d count that as less important than figuring out that you shouldn’t go shouting your name at the fae when they ask.”

“It was one time! I was not warned! When are you going to stop mocking me?”

“The day you stop reacting.” Dib pulled a couple more books to check for hidden compartments but his enthusiasm was fading. A couple anime and cartoon posters hung on the wall, their edges carefully repaired with tape. A twin mattress with overlarge mickey mouse bedding was crammed into the corner. No TV, no electronics, and according to Zim, no food.

Dib lifted the mattress. Underneath was a ziplock bag with a few dollars and coins in it, but nothing else. “Zim, you got visual confirmation of her leaving? ‘Cause right now we’re not getting more than circumstantial evidence.”

“She took the fire escape down.” Zim pointed at the window he had likely used for his own entrance. Dib approached, scratching a nail along a pane. A thick layer of jet black paint curled away under his nail. Blackout curtains hung on a bent rail overhead.

“I was expecting a hidden store of blood somewhere,” Dib admitted. “But it doesn’t look like she has the cash to get a hidden cold storage system, and you already checked the freezer.”

“Those are children’s cartoons, are they not?” Zim pointed at the cheerful bedspread. “Perhaps your informants overestimated her age.”

“That’s possible, but who knows how long she’s been whatever age she is, too.” Dib sighed. “This is a mess. No way to determine if she’s a threat or not from this.”

Zim cleared his throat. “Perhaps, Agent Mothman, we should consider waiting here and speaking to her when she returns. Perhaps she has something to say for herself.”

Dib slowly slid the book he was holding back in its place, keeping his eyes on the shelf. Stilted formality was a cue Zim had locked onto from their lessons about saying-what-you-mean-without-actually-saying-it. If she was anywhere, she was probably at the window, and he wasn’t going to spook her by glancing over. “You have a point, Agent Spiderlegs.”

Reason dropped: They’re way too competent, so it’s been a long time and that makes it harder to do exposition right. Also for what purpose are they here? Is it to protect this child vampire? Is it to recruit her? See if she’s a threat or not? Exactly what is their standing in the Eyeball by now? It kicked up more questions than I was willing to answer in a final chapter but MAN did I love playing with setting clues for a bit.

Attempt #2: PAK replacement trials

“Would you stop twitching already?” Dib squinted along the headlamp’s beam into the mess of Zim’s PAK. “Okay, so there’s a blueish glassy cylinder in here that’s filled with tiny bead-like things. Glass is cracked.”

A long string of Irken curses followed this observation.

“Right. I take it that’s not easy to get ahold of. Start figuring out how to explain to me what this does and I’ll see if we can’t find a substitute you can use to patch it up.”

“That is pure Meekrob valgrathstal! You cannot just substitute and patch like you’re repairing a ship’s hull! This is a component of my existence!” Zim screeched.

“Well we don’t have a lot of other options, Zim!” Dib flipped the PAK shut, rubbing his eyes. “That’s enough for now. I don’t think we can probe farther in until we have some materials to repair you.”

Morose, Zim twisted around to face his workspace. Reaching into the top drawer, he pulled out the makeup kit Dib had pieced together for him and began applying a white paste to his face. It was a temporary solution that served a double purpose as water repellent and a base over which Zim would apply a nosepiece, prosthetic ears, and tan foundation.

Dib plopped down on his bed and sighed. It was going to be rocky for a while on their new pay level, but Agent Darkbooty had thrown in a deposit on a mediocre apartment near Zim’s old base, as well as some used furniture. Hopefully in a few months they could scrape together enough funds to start experimenting with earthly substances that had a shot at operating as replacement PAK components.

The damage from the Tallests’ attack on Zim plus his internal battle for control had cost Zim dearly. Attempting to activate any sort of hologram triggered an agonizing shock, and until Dib could reach the deeper circuitry to remove the pain/pleasure conditioning hardware, they would have to rely on low-tech special effects to mask Zim’s appearance. And Zim could no longer initiate repairs on his own PAK, as the amount of time he could separate from it had been cut in half. In addition, he now he required something akin to sleep in order to function properly. For about five hours per day, Zim had to shut down all PAK functions except life support and lie comatose. It was up to Dib to “restart” Zim, and Mars have mercy if he was even thirty seconds late.

He wished Zim would cut him some slack when he slipped up. On the other hand, Zim was swallowing huge amounts of humble pie while learning, so maybe Dib just had to let the browbeating sessions go.

Reason dropped: was too much of a downer. Slipping too much into exposition. I wanted to reward the protagonists more than this.

[lexiseigneur]

Chapter five: Acts of mercy

Ao3

The hardware store sat at the edge of an abandoned mall. Just after the Fall, the entire town had been cleared of its inhabitants. They had been trucked away in an orderly fashion. Shops had been closed by humans who thought they would live another day and come back. Lexi reviewed the list again. If the hardware store did not provide them with the more specialized pieces of equipment, the computer shop might. The beam of her small flashlight stopped on each item lined on the shelves.

This trip was the result of the first conclusions drawn from Goodweather’s texts. They needed materials to build the devices and those were unlikely to change even with the adjustments she thought they might need. Screws and wires would stay the same. Lexi was relieved that they were finally taking their first actions for the plan despite her slowness.

Exhaustion made her inefficient in her work and daily sparring did not help. The woman kept catching herself reading the same paragraphs over and over again. Numbers floated on the screen without meaning. At best, she managed maybe an hour of real intellectual focus per day.

Boredom did not suit the Dhampir who either cared for his weapons, attempted to decipher the Occido Lumen, or read the books Lexi had lent him. Every few days, he interrogated her on her progress which added to her stress. Their mission appeared like an impossibly huge task. In addition, when she obsessed over it instead of sleeping, pieces were still missing. And it bothered her.

“How are we going to find him?” She asked.

The Dhampir walked in darkness without need for a flashlight.

“He made himself vulnerable. He is exposed.”

“That’s not an answer, Quinlan.”

“Strigoi cannot be coerced into giving up their Master’s whereabouts. His oversight was taking human ”

The reason why Quinlan had neglected to bring up this issue earlier smacked her in the face.

“You want to coerce a human into telling us where he is?”

Lexi wanted to turn the light toward him to see his expression but that seemed too rude.

“I do.”

“And by ‘coerce’ you mean torture?”

“If need be.”

Her flashlight illuminated Plexiglas sheets which they would need. She put them into the large trolley. Was it worth it? However evil the actions of those collaborators might be, did they deserve to suffer at the hands of the Dhampir?

“Sometimes one does need to be cruel.”

Unconvinced by those words, she walked on.

“Is there any other way?”

“I cannot think of another way at this moment. If any such other option arises, I will consider it.”

“I have a feeling that the reason isn’t based on an ethical dilemma.”

“No. Humans are treacherous creatures. They would certainly try to deceive me in order to alleviate their suffering. I would prefer more reliable methods.”

Of-fucking-course. Their searching continued in awkward silence. The woman did not want to think about this matter any longer. What could she possibly do to stop him if he ever decided to hurt someone again? Nothing.

Soon they returned to the hall of the mall with a full trolley.  She matched every item to the words on the list and ticked them while Quinlan transferred them to duffel bags.

“OK we’re done here…Let’s go to the supermarket.”

If any unperishable foods remained intact on the premises, they would be fools not to take advantage. For some reason, she had whispered the words but Quinlan replied at a normal volume.

“You can go ahead while I load this in the truck.”

Lexi froze. In the past, she had had to leave the safety of her bunker. This would not be any different. Then why was she suddenly so cold? She could not read his face as he stood against the light of the large windows.

“I will be back…”

He took the heavy bags off the floor without apparent effort.

“I promise.” He added more gently.

Lexi blushed as he disappeared. Her booted feet were loud on the tiled floors. She lifted dust with every movement. Just before reaching the glass door of the large food store, she sneezed loudly. Something shattered in the obscurity of the windowless supermarket. The door had already been pried open. Her stomach fell but she hardened herself, both mind and body. There was a smear of blood on the handle. Lexi drew her gun and swiped the safety off with her thumb. Strigoi did not need or care for old cans or bags of rice. But not all humans could be trusted. The image of the driver appeared in her mind and she pushed the thought of the collaborator away. Quinlan had been very clear that he could not be seen. They had at the very least been heard. Could she do it? Take a life in cold blood to protect their mission? Not even that…to extinguish the remote possibility of being discovered that way. But he had also been clear that memories could be stolen. Was he close? Could he hear her?

“Quinlan…there is someone here.” She whispered.

There was movement just behind a shelf of stale bread. A mop of dirty blonde hair and the shine of fresh red blood on naked skin. The silhouette was small. Lexi’s chest contracted painfully. It was a woman…no. A girl. Not even a teenager or so she seemed. It was likely that her growth had been stunted by at least a year of malnutrition. The child was alone, hurt and afraid. The gun’s safety clicked back on.

Quinlan reinterred the large building after a glance at the gunmetal sky. Clouds churned menacingly. They would need to leave soon to avoid the brunt of the storm. The musical sound of breaking glass reached him. He flexed his ear to concentrate on its source. Lexi was not usually clumsy. He expected a swear but instead, he heard her call his name. Her voice sounded very faint and scared.

“Quinlan…there is someone here.”

His heart accelerated and the world came to a grinding halt as he ran to her. Of course, his newest ally would get herself killed in a matter of weeks. Humans always needed babysitting. There was the smallest pang of guilt as he remembered her face when he had walked away. She knew she was not ready to be left alone but he had ignored it. As he always ignored her discomfort. He needed to push her, did he not? Every day, while she redrew the schematics, while she redid the calculations and especially during the training sessions. He ignored her pain and her growing fatigue. Quinlan also paid little mind to her general dislike of him. The very words she had uttered above that corpse had given him permission. No need for kindness. Lexi stood by the glass doors, raising both hands in his direction. He stopped running and cocked his head in interrogation.

“Put your hood and your glasses. It’s just a kid. Don’t scare her.”

Quinlan took a deep breath and the coppery smell of blood burned the back of his throat.

“She is hurt.” He said.

“I know. Stay back, please.”

She took a medical kit out of one of the pockets of her cargo pants and entered the large room carefully. The Dhampir covered his features as asked.

“Hey, I know you’re in here. I can help you. We have shelter nearby.”

Quinlan winced at how readily she had disclosed this information.

“Are you alone?” Yelled the girl.

Her voice was shaky and high pitched. Lexi was right, she was merely a child.

“No. My friend is waiting outside. He is always grumpy so it’s better if we talk alone.”

He raised a smooth eyebrow at the quip.

“I’m cut.” Whimpered the child.

“I know. I can make it better if you let me.”

There were tentative footsteps. Lexi gasped quietly and her heartbeat exploded into a gallop. Quinlan disobeyed her request and came to stand by her. The child had stepped into the fading light but stopped when the Dhampir had appeared. Her eyes were bloodshot, her skin clammy and greyish. Blood had poured heavily from her neck down onto her shoulder and arm. Worms crawled under her skin, obvious to him but invisible to Lexi. Nevertheless, his associate knew. Lexi’s eyes filled with tears. Quinlan reached for his sword. Small fingers grabbed his hand. She placed her other palm on his chest in a calming gesture. The pointy chin trembled.

“Don’t. Please.” She murmured.

Her eyes begged. A single tear exploded on her jacket and she quickly wiped her face. Quinlan, against his better judgment, dropped his arm. He peered into the supplicating eyes. He thought he would enjoy it, the moment she would ask for something without that constant defiance. This was not enjoyable. Her pain and discomfort were acceptable when her spirits stood proud. This pain, he wished he could have avoided her. The woman took a deep breath and turned to the child.

“Let’s clean you up!” She boomed cheerfully.

With wet wipes, she cleared the blood away from the girl’s skin, careful not to touch it even with her gloved hands. She chatted away about the bed the girl would soon enjoy, the warm shower, the movies, and the music. Why was she doing this? Quinlan’s patience was being tested with her pointless chattering. He would never allow the child to step foot near the compound.

“I even have a cat!” Lexi said and for the first time, the girl smiled.

 Why lie about this?

“What’s his name?”

“Her name is Jules.”

She applied a large bandage on the wound and put her own jacket on the child’s shoulders.

“If you want you can find her a toy or a treat. Then she will like you right away. I think they are down this way. You go ahead while I pack my medical bag.”

The girl’s smile widened. She put her skinny arms inside the sleeves before turning away. The little human felt safe. Her future was suddenly bright with all that she desired. She made it four steps before Lexi took out her gun and removed the safety. She aimed carefully and pulled the trigger. Quinlan flinched at the sound. It was always painful in closed spaces. The little head cracked open from the force of the shot and its contents spread on the white tiles. Lexi turned away from the body and packed her bag. Then she left to another part of the store, out of Quinlan’s sight.

Cans clinked and dried cereals rushed into plastic. The crinkling of bags stopped and she sobbed softly. Throughout her pillaging, she cried and Quinlan attempted to ignore it. Lexi was making great efforts to be as quiet as possible. When she came back, he took most of the bags from her and they exited the store. It felt very much like leaving a tomb. Had she been kind? Was it really better for death to come without notice? He thought about the children he had once loved and decided that yes, she had been very kind.

Lexi wiped her face a last time before stepping into the frigid air. The country had been cold since the nuclear explosions had lifted dirt into the atmosphere. Today it was frozen and dead even more than usual. No. She was frozen and dead, the weather was the same. The crimson blood spattering the white floor was seared into her mind. More nightmare material. Quinlan grabbed her arm and growled lowly. At this very moment, she could not be bothered by his bullshit. Lexi tried to pull herself free from his grip.

“She was followed.” He whispered. “We must hide.”

She had no idea what he meant. The parking lot was clear and their truck just a few meters away. They should just drive off. Then the wind carried the snarls and rapid footsteps coming from just around the corner. Lexi felt sick. She could never run fast enough. His arms closed around her waist and shoulders. They whizzed through the air like an arrow. The Dhampir’s gloved hands dug too deeply into her muscles and she whimpered in pain. Then only one arm held her tightly and metal broke with a clank. Her feet left the ground and she fell against his chest. Eyes wide open, she could see nothing. She lifted herself on her hands and knees then froze. Quinlan lied just under her. She gathered her thoughts. They were in the trunk of a car. He had broken the lock with a single hand. When she reached, cold metal encircled her uncomfortably close. There was not even space for her to lie next to him. She swallowed painfully and opened her mouth. His gloved finger landed across her lips. Even in her state of panic she understood. Remain quiet. He could see. This was somewhat reassuring. Opening or closing her eyes made no difference. All was black. Outside there was the rapid smacking of footstep on hard ground. It quickly disappeared.

She waited for several minutes of silence before allowing herself to shift position. The uneven metal was digging painfully into her knee. A loud metallic creak made her grimace. Suddenly his hand spread on her mouth completely, muffling a “oof” of surprise as he pulled her to his chest. Lexi found herself lying flat on top of him with their legs intertwined. His hand left her mouth but instinctively, she pushed back against him. The arms were unrelenting shackles. She gave up and lied still. The powerful arms fell to his sides. His chest was firm and too warm, as if he was running a fever. He smelled faintly of lemons. The forced contact felt deeply wrong. Nevertheless, she attempted to relax her muscles as she could feel a cramp forming in her back.

Raindrops on the metal above made her flinch. When their sounds intensified and filled the trunk she finally managed to undo the knots that were her back and legs. In her left ear there was the splatter of water and in her right, the thud of Quinlan’s heart. After a while she shivered. It was just above freezing temperature and she did not have a jacket anymore. His body heat did not reach her back. Low ambient temperatures were slowly robbing her of her warmth. The trembling reached her teeth. Quinlan’s coat closed around her. His fists kept a firm grip to prevent the fabric from sliding off her back. She sighed in relief and relaxed again. Heartbeats coming from him were steady. Surely, if that was the case it meant they were safe? The pumping heart and chatter of the rain were pushing her into a trance. For the first time in a year, the obsessive thoughts did not arise after she closed her eyes. The tired woman fell asleep.

“Lexi?”

His voice was very far and the pull of unconsciousness too alluring.

“We should depart now.”

He could go if he wanted to but she would stay right there and sleep some more. The coat fell open. She moaned in protest as cold air smacked her back. Quinlan’s chest vibrated with quiet laughter and she frowned. Why was he so goddamn annoying right now? The gloved hands rubbed her shoulders. Gently at first, then vigorously when she did not react fast enough. With a grunt, she peeled herself off of him and pushed the lid of the truck open. Lexi grimaced at the light and the needles it sent through her eyes. Her feet hit the dry ground and she stared in confusion.

“I thought it was raining?” She asked.

“It was.”

The Dhampir made no sense. They walked to the truck and she breathed the coolness in with delight. Her head was heavy from the staleness of the enclosed space.

“How long was I out?” She asked and stretched.

“About twelve hours.”

She interrupted her stretching and looked around. The light was low and the sky as clear as it could get. It was obviously a new day.

“That’s not possible.”

Quinlan did not answer and retrieved the few grocery bags which had not been too affected by the downpour.

“They were searching for that long?”

Certainly, the girl’s body would have been hard to miss. Her eyes stung at that thought.

“No. But you needed to rest and I prefer not to travel at night.”

Lexi blushed and took a big gulp of water from a bottle she found under her seat. The last time she had slept this well and this long she had been at home. Her real home, and in her real bed with him. Even the pangs of hunger could not spoil how good she felt without the constant pressure of exhaustion.

For two days Quinlan’s associate worked better than usual. Her sparring was also significantly improved. Quick decisions were made quicker but also smarter. The most noticeable change had been her obvious enjoyment at running and slashing. She smiled and even laughed at her newfound strength. Quinlan had been right to let her sleep as the benefits had surpassed his expectations.

After dinner, she closed herself in her bedroom and played the piano. It was the very first time she touched the instrument since Quinlan had met her. The first five minutes were clumsy but she soon found her bearings. The tune turned steady and true. After four songs, Quinlan caught himself enjoying the music. All of the songs were melancholic and hauntingly beautiful. She played for another quarter of an hour then went to bed.

Quinlan decided that he would attempt to do the same despite the last song playing in a loop in his mind. Would he still be able to find the right keys? It had been so very long. The Dhampir removed his boots, belt and vest and laid them carefully on the unique chair in his bedroom. The bed was uncomfortable but sufficient for his needs. He crossed white fingers under his hairless skull and mentally drew a music sheet of the tunes.

Despite his focus, her stirring and sighing sometimes caught his attention. He had found all the notes and compiled them into his memory. Quinlan had taken his time and rather enjoyed this little mental exercise. In the other room, she still moved. Her tossing intensified with her frustration and the Dhampir frowned. In the morning, she would be a shell of herself once again.

That would not do. They were making much better progress now. Maybe some drugs could help? The woman grunted and left her bed. She paced her room for a minute and opened her door. Would she work through the night instead? No, her light footsteps were getting closer. She was standing in front of his bedroom and Quinlan’s brows shot up in surprise. She knocked. Once. Very much like the caress of a knuckle but clear as a bell for him.

“Yes?” He said and the door opened.

Lexi’s blushed face appeared. A blanket hugged her shoulders. Quinlan was reminded of a child seeking reassurance after a nightmare.

“I can’t sleep.” She whispered and took two steps in his direction.

What could she possibly think he would do about this? Knock her unconscious?

“Can I stay here?”

The last word was barely audible. Her heart was beating madly, slightly muffled by the duvet. How would that help? Then he saw the begging eyes and the pride tossed aside. She was not in pain but once again, this was not enjoyable. No…clearly he had been wrong in thinking that this would be satisfying. Defiance suited her best because despair made her appear too fragile. Could he be kind? Just this one time? Without a mocking glare, a sharp remark or a smirk?

“Do as you wish.” He finally said and remained immobile.

She huddled on the small strip of unoccupied mattress. He returned to his mental exercise and wrote the notes of another song. Slowly, as if Quinlan were some kind of wild animal, she crawled closer. His concentration broke when her small fist closed on his shirt. She pressed her face against his heart.

How could this possibly help her? The healthy smell of her skin filled his nose and he made his inhalations shallower. Her heartbeat slowed and soon, she fell asleep. Just like two days prior in the trunk where they had hidden. On that day he had thought that the crushing fatigue had tamed her anxieties. Now he had to revise this assessment. His role in that event was undeniable.

The small woman felt safe against his chest. Her cheek so close to the stinger she had called fascinating. Quinlan did not know what to make of this. During trainings, he had wanted her scared of him. Now it struck him that instead, he had demonstrated the extent of his self-control and how very little danger she was facing in his presence. More than this, every time she had been in perceived peril, he had stood between her and the threat. And now, at her most vulnerable, she trusted him implicitly. It was rather strange.

[thomaspatterson1989]

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